Summer Storms (Seasons of Faith Book 1) Read online

  “He’s going to stay locked up for awhile, right?” Lizzie asked, twisting a lock of hair around her finger.

  “I wish I could promise you that, but for a misdemeanor offense he’ll be free as soon as he makes bail and I don’t think that will be a problem for him.”

  “You mean he could get out tonight?” Terror flooded over her. She felt as if her throat was closing and couldn’t move air through her lungs. Ian whispered in her ear, but she couldn’t comprehend his words.

  “I’m afraid so, but with the trespass he won’t be able to come back to the house without fear of arrest. Once you get the injunction, he won’t be able to call you or approach you off the property either. His case will be sent to the State Attorney’s office to see if you want to press charges.” Prentiss collected the signed forms and paper clipped them together.

  “Of course I want to press charges,” Lizzie cried.

  Prentiss nodded. “With any luck he will go back to Massachusetts and leave you alone now.”

  She was outraged at the unfairness of the process, at the idea of Ralph Anderson walking free while she felt a prisoner in her own home. Officer Prentiss escorted them outside and shook Lizzie’s hand, wishing her good night, his kind eyes assuring her everything was going to be okay.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  It was only nine o’clock when Lizzie and her friends returned to the house, but she felt as if it was much later. Her neck and shoulders ached, and all her muscles were screaming from the tense carriage of her body. Her head pounded and her stomach felt like a gallon of acid was swirling in it.

  Emma and Ron sat on the couch waiting. She dropped down next to them too tired to speak. Stephen, Jeffrey, and Ian had followed her inside and she knew they wanted to say something; instead, they shuffled awkwardly.

  “Thanks for saving me,” she said. They waved her off assuring her it hadn’t been any trouble. She looked at Ian’s bruised face and struggled to her feet. She feathered her fingers across the bruise but he still flinched.

  “You need to put some ice on that.” She pushed aside her own exhaustion, crossed the room, and started filling a plastic bag with ice. Ian moved behind her catching her hand as she reached into the freezer once more. He turned her to face him and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes.

  “Let us take care of you tonight,” he said tenderly. He pushed the freezer door closed without taking his eyes off her. “Go get a shower. We’ll make sure everything is locked up.”

  Emma appeared at her side and led her down the hall to her bedroom. Lizzie followed without argument, walking through a haze. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her body was now leaching every ounce of her strength.

  “You’ve made some good friends.” Emma turned on the water and started to draw a hot bath. She pulled a pair of pajamas from a drawer and laid them on the edge of the sink, then pulled Lizzie into a motherly embrace, rubbing her back.

  “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Lizzie whimpered.

  “You don’t have to be. Ron and I will stay with you. Now you go sit in the bath for a while. I’ll send the boys home.” Emma gave her a kiss on the forehead and slipped from the room.

  Lizzie sank into the tub and scrubbed her face, neck, and shoulders, but still she could feel Ralph Anderson’s fingers on her. She scrubbed again and again until her skin was raw. A floodgate of tears burst forth; the salt burned as they ran down her chapped face.

  She sank down under the water, all sound muffled, cocooned from the world. Slowly the heat unwound her tight muscles. She stayed submerged until her lungs burned for air.

  Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a thick white bathrobe. She padded down the hall into the living room, where she found Emma flipping through channels on the television.

  “Where’s Ron?” Lizzie asked.

  “I sent him home to get us a change of clothes. How are you doing?”

  “I’m tired,” Lizzie sighed. “Relieved, but still nervous.”

  “You don’t need to worry, he can’t hurt you now.” Emma turned the television off. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “I can’t bear to relive it again, not tonight.”

  “Would you like to pray?”

  Lizzie nodded and Emma reached over to clasp her hands.

  “Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for Lizzie. Thank you for protecting her tonight. Thank you for bringing such wonderful friends into her life. Lord, give her the strength and courage to move past this incident so she can go on to accomplish all that you have planned for her. Lord, we know you have not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. I ask that you bring peace to Lizzie’s spirit tonight so she can sleep well and awake tomorrow refreshed. We pray these things in your precious name.”

  “Amen,” Lizzie whispered. Emma squeezed her hands.

  “Why don’t you go to bed? I can make up the guest room when Ron gets here.”

  Lizzie was too drained to protest. With a look of thanks, she rose and set off for the bedroom.

  Jeffrey and Ian watched Stephen’s SUV round the corner. The night was warm and sticky, the song of cicadas rolling in waves all around them.

  “So, you and Lizzie?” Jeffrey smiled at Ian’s confused look. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re in love with her.”

  “Where’d you get an idea like that?” Ian shifted on his feet.

  “Come on, you were attacking that guy like a wild animal. That was the act of a man in love.” Jeffrey watched his old friend closely, realizing how much he’d missed their friendship the past few years.

  Many guys would have been jealous of the relationship Ian and Camylle had shared, but it had never bothered Jeffrey, he’d always known they were just friends. Now, though, he was uneasy, feeling somehow inadequate.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” Ian admitted. “At first I thought she was there with him, sharing a private moment, but then she looked right at me. It was like she was pleading me to help and I just went crazy.”

  Jeffrey slapped Ian on the back. “I can’t say I would have been able to restrain myself much more.”

  Ian’s head shot up, his eyes meeting Jeffrey’s. “Does that mean you’re in love with her?”

  Jeffrey shrugged. “She’s an amazing woman. Hard not to love her, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But, I’m not the one she loves.” Jeffrey twirled his keys on his finger. “You want to go grab a drink?”

  Ian shook his head and rubbed his chest. “Nah, I’m going to take some aspirin and crash.”

  “Alright, I’ll catch you later then.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY ONE

  Lizzie’s sleep was plagued by images of Ralph Anderson swimming through her unconscious mind. She awoke coughing, grasping at her neck, feeling like she was being strangled. The room was still dark and she struggled to orient herself. The clock read five forty-five. Instead of lying back down, she pushed the covers back and swung her feet over the side of the bed.

  She went to the sink and turned on the hot water. When steam rose from the sink, she soaked a washcloth and scrubbed her face. With the cobwebs of sleep washed away, she reached for her bathrobe, pulled it tight around her, and set off for the kitchen.

  The coffee pot gurgled as the last cup of water filled the carafe. Her mug, with cream and sugar, waited for the dark liquid, turning a milky brown as it mixed with the cream. She padded through the living room, pausing to pick up her Bible and settled on the front porch. The neighborhood was quiet, a rare occasion she’d learned, with no dog walkers, no children playing, no joggers. All the houses were dark except one, where a lone light burned in a small front window. Lizzie wondered who was up and why.

  The sky was starting to change from black to midnight blue. She knew soon it would pale to gray, then almost white, before turning gold with the rising sun. Despite not being a morning person, she did enjoy
watching the sunrise and the promise of a new start that it offered. Today, however, it held dread and fear, knowing Ralph Anderson could be out of jail.

  She turned her attention to the Bible and let it flop open on her lap. It opened to Second Corinthians, chapter one, and she noticed an underlined passage.

  “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of our mercies and God of all comfort; who comforts us in all our affliction so we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

  Lizzie read this passage several times, stumbling through it, trying to make sense of the words. Comfort, the word appeared five times in the two verses. Her mind and heart battled over the word. How could she feel comfort after being stalked and threatened, yet how could she not feel comfort in the knowledge that she had so many people willing to protect her?

  She’d known Ron and Emma would always protect her, but through this nightmare, she’d learned of the others who were watching over her - Mae, Ian, Jeffrey, and Stephen. Her world that had become so small with the death of her parents had grown without her realizing it.

  Was it possible God could use this incident to provide her with wisdom and empathy for someone else’s benefit in the future? Of course, that’s possible, she thought, annoyed with her questioning. Look at how my grief has been used to witness to Jeffrey.

  Sure, lot of good that has done. You don’t think your little story has really affected him do you? Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to silence the warring voices in her head, but they continued to bicker. Almost without realizing it, she began to hum “Jesus Loves Me,” then “How Great Thou Art” and “I’ll Fly Away.” By the time she finished the third song, the negative thoughts receded.

  She heard a door open and turned to see a woman with a stroller leaving the house where the light had been on earlier. The woman looked frazzled as she pushed the carriage toward Lizzie; the cries of the baby within could be heard several houses away. Lizzie waved as the mother and child passed. The cries diminished as the pair disappeared in the direction of the park at Lake Eola.

  Ian sat on the balcony of his condo, watching the sun climb above the horizon, illuminating the city below him. He’d spent most of the night in this spot unable to sleep. His body ached and bruises had blossomed on his face and ribs. Jeffrey’s admission of love for Lizzie, while it hadn’t come as a surprise, had shaken Ian. He’d recognized the signs of Jeffrey’s feelings early on. She came up in the few conversations the two men had shared recently, and Jeffrey’s voice changed when he spoke of her. Ian recognized the bond they shared and wondered why Jeffrey hadn’t done anything to further his relationship with her.

  The depth of Ian’s own feelings, on the other hand, had only been revealed to him last night. The look of terror in Lizzie’s eyes had infuriated him, made him blind to all reason. When she had run into his arms, his body had flushed with pleasure. Even knowing her friends were spending the night, leaving her had taken tremendous will power. Now he battled with the thought of competing with Jeffrey for her affection. Didn’t Jeffrey deserve it more than he did? Hadn’t he suffered enough already? But Ian had never had this feeling before. He’d never known the joy he felt in her presence. Shouldn’t he have the same chance of love that Jeffrey had already experienced?

  A gentle breeze rustled the slender palm trees lining the street. Early morning dew rose off the asphalt in a fine steam. Ian watched as the neighborhood came to life, irritated that there seemed to be more couples than usual. An elderly couple shuffled along the sidewalk hand in hand; a young couple kissed goodbye before the man closed his car door and pulled away from the curb; even a pair of dogs played tug-of-war with a rawhide bone.

  Ian hefted himself from the chair and went into the one bedroom condo. The living room walls were white, hung with several abstract canvases in muted earth tones; the furniture consisted of a simple sofa and chair from Ikea and a wooden entertainment center he’d built himself. He crossed to the kitchen, the countertops devoid of clutter, with only a coffee pot and a toaster marring the shiny marble surface.

  He pulled a loaf of bread from the refrigerator and popped two slices into the toaster. While he waited, he turned on the stereo. Michael W. Smith’s song “Love of My Life” was playing. For the first time he felt he could relate to the words of the song. He remembered her smile and saw all of the dreams he had for his life; he felt as though he would loose his way if he lost Lizzie.

  Ian fell to his knees and prayed with more fervor than he’d ever prayed before.

  CHAPTER FIFTY TWO

  The alarm went off but Lizzie continued to stare at the clock. Another sleepless night had passed her by and she dreaded the thought of going to work. The minutes ticked by and still she didn’t move. The alarm sounded a second time and she pushed the tangled sheet back.

  At ten minutes to nine, Lizzie pulled the front door closed behind her. She stood on the porch, her nervous glance sweeping up and down the street, knowing Ralph Anderson had been released on bail, but unsure if he was still in the area. She studied every shadow and shrub in her field of vision, waiting to see if there was movement. Three minutes elapsed before she took her first tentative steps toward the driveway.

  Once inside the car, she let out her pent up breath. Her heart raced and her palms were clammy. She backed out of the driveway, still expecting Ralph to appear at any moment.

  The lobby of Hotel Lago was a flurry of activity when she arrived. Heaps of luggage dotted the sidewalk creating an obstacle course for the bellmen scurrying outside with baggage-laden carts.

  “What’s going on?” Lizzie asked as she turned on her computer.

  “Large group checking out this morning, did you forget?” Jonathan eyed her critically.

  She caught sight of her calendar. The day was circled in red with a note about the departure of an information technology group.

  “Sorry, it must have slipped my mind.”

  “You okay?” Jonathan asked. “It’s not like you to forget this type of thing.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied half-heartedly.

  Jonathan hovered a moment longer before returning to his office. Lizzie called her voicemail and found four messages. She took notes as she listened to each, her anxiety receding as she became more engaged in her work.

  “Any news?" Stephen asked leaning against the desk, startling her.

  “What?” She’d been reading an email from a VIP guest scheduled to arrive that afternoon and struggled to change gears.

  “About that creep from the party? Have you heard anything?”

  Lizzie shook her head. “Officer Prentiss called yesterday to check in, but couldn’t tell me if Ralph was still in the state or not.”

  “It’s not right that he was let out for $500.” Stephen jumped up as if ready to fight.

  She sighed. “Tell me about it.”

  Stephen sobered. “Hey, if you need anything you’ll let me know won’t you?”

  “Thanks, Stephen.” She glanced back at her email. “Would you mind handling a check-in for me?”

  “Of course.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. She reviewed the file with him and printed a copy of this latest email.

  “Any questions?”

  “I don’t think so.” He gave her a long look. “Have you gotten any sleep since Saturday?”

  “Not much.” She shrugged. “I’m fine, though.”

  Stephen didn’t look convinced. “I’m supposed to be off tomorrow, but if you want me to cover your shift, I would be happy to come in.”

  Lizzie shook her head. “The only time I can forget about what happened is when I’m here. It keeps my mind busy, you know?”

  “Sure, but if you change your mind…” He stood and returned his borrowed chair.

  Lizzie spent the rest of the day meeting arriving guests and assisting with last minute requests. When the VIP arrived she lurked in the lobby while Steph
en checked him in, delighted to see the two men clicked right away.

  At five, she lingered at her desk. There were still two concierge arrivals expected and she toyed with the idea of staying to check them in herself. She watched Jonathan gather his briefcase and turn off the light in his office. As he turned to leave, he noticed her still sitting at her desk.

  “You want to walk out with me?” he asked. She was still taken off guard by Jonathan’s change in attitude toward her since Hurricane Frances. He’d always given her a long leash when it came to concierge matters, but he now seemed to defer to her judgment more often on everything pertaining to the front desk operation.

  She hesitated. It would be nice to have someone with her in the parking lot. However, the thought of returning to her empty house frightened her, pushing her to stay at work, surrounded by people she knew.

  “I think I’m going to stay a little later, meet the last couple of guests when they arrive.”

  “I can’t afford to pay any overtime,” Jonathan cautioned.

  She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll take a short day later in the week.”

  “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have a good night.”

  She sent an instant message to the front desk and bell services, letting them know she was still in the office and to notify her when the remaining concierge guests arrived. With nothing left to do but wait, she laid her head on the desk and promptly fell asleep.

  CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

  Stephen blew into the office, almost banging the door against the wall. When he saw Lizzie asleep at her desk, he gently pulled the door closed with only the faintest click of the lock. He tiptoed across the office and tried to pull a file folder out from under her elbow.

  “What? What is it?” She lifted her head and looked around.

  Stephen gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. The Pearsons are here.”

  “Oh good.” She rubbed her face and pushed her chair back.