Beverly Barton - Guarding Jeannie

"Yes. They've allowed me to come in here alone. But Jeannie… Oh, dear God, they have guns! They're holding the children hostage."

Jeannie heard Marta sobbing. "What do you mean, they're holding the children hostage?"

"During our before-school free time in the cafeteria, Danette Suddath and these two other women pulled their guns, each one gabbed a child, and they're holding the whole school hostage."

"What do they want?" Jeannie asked, but she knew. She glanced at the partially open door, wondering if Sam had gone back into the kitchen.

"They want you, Jeannie," Marta said. "They're all members of the Righteous Light Church. Danette told me that—that they won't hurt any of the children, if you'll come down to the school."

"Call the police, Marta. Tell them what's happened. Sam and I will be there as soon as possible."

"No! I can't call the police, and Sam Dundee must not come here. They said if I called the police or if Mr. Dundee comes with you, they'll start sacrificing the children. That's the exact word Danette used. Sacrificing."

"They want me to come alone?" Jeannie's mind splintered into a dozen different thoughts, the prime one being the question of how she would ever escape from Sam.

"I don't know what to do, Jeannie. If you come down here, they'll turn you over to Maynard Reeves." Marta's voice quavered more with each word she spoke. "I think they're expecting him to come here and get you."

"I understand. I'll find a way to get there. Alone. We can't allow any harm to come to those precious children in our charge."

"There must be some other way," Marta said. "If only—"

"Everything will be all right," Jeannie said. "I'll do what I have to do."

Jeannie punched the Off button and laid the telephone down on the bath mat beside the tub. Closing her eyes, she said a quiet prayer, allowing her mind to relax and her nerves to calm. She would have to lie to Sam, and she would have to trick him. She hated doing it, but she had no choice. The lives of forty-five children were at stake. Innocent, helpless children with physical and mental limitations that made them even more special to Jeannie. She knew so well the pain these children endured, especially their emotional suffering.

"Sam! Sam, I'm ready to get out of the tub now."

Within a minute, Sam was at her side, lifting her out of the tub and drying her with a large, fluffy towel. She wrapped her arm around his neck.

"Why don't you go ahead and enjoy my bubble bath? It's still warm," she said.

"I haven't finished up in the kitchen." He carried her into the bedroom and placed her on the edge of the bed.

"After I get dressed, I'll take care of that." She pulled him down toward her, rubbing her cheek against his. "Go on. You need a bath. You smell like … well, you smell."

Sam laughed. "I smell like you and me. I smell like sex."

"Yes, you do. You smell like sex."

"Need any help getting dressed?" he asked.

"You're better at helping me undress." She shoved him away from her. "Now go get your bath. I can dress myself and finish cleaning up the kitchen without your help."

"Your wish is my command." He stripped out of his slacks, which he'd put on again when he returned to the kitchen.

Jeannie watched while he walked to the bathroom. He stopped in the doorway, turned and smiled at her. When he closed the door, she lifted her cane from its resting place against the nightstand and hurried to the closet. She dressed as quickly as she could, dug the keys to her Lexus from her purse and walked out of the bedroom.

Easing the front door closed, she breathed a sigh of relief when it made only a faint clicking sound. She slid behind the wheel, started the engine and backed out of the driveway, holding her breath all the while.

"Please, forgive me, Sam. I have no other choice." She whispered the words aloud, knowing that Sam had already sensed that something wasn't quite right.

When she pulled out into the street, she glanced in her rear-view mirror. Sam Dundee ran into the yard, a towel draped around his hips. He screamed her name.

Tears blurred Jeannie's vision as she pressed the accelerator. The Lexus flew down the street and out of Sam's sight.

* * *

Children's whimpers and muted cries drifted down the hallway. Jeannie gripped her cane as she walked along the empty corridor. She hesitated at the closed cafeteria doors, uncertain what she would find once she entered, but knowing she was willing to make whatever sacrifice was necessary to save the children.

She flung open the double doors and stepped inside, halting immediately. The children had been divided into three groups. The groups huddled on the floor in three corners of the cafeteria, each group guarded by a woman with a gun. Danette Suddath held her own daughter in front of her as a shield as she brandished a semiautomatic weapon.

"Hi, Jeannie." Missy Suddath smiled, her round face wrinkling in pleasure lines when she saw Jeannie. "My mama's playing a game with us. It's like cops and robbers. Did you come to play with us?"

"Yes, Missy, I came to play with you." Jeannie clenched her teeth, willing herself to stay calm and unemotional for the sake of the children.

"Come on in, Jeannie Alverson!" Danette shouted. "Your days of evil are about to end."

"Suffer not a witch to live!" A plump middle-aged woman with long, straight salt-and-pepper hair tightened her hold on little seven-year-old Amelia Carson, who'd been born marginally retarded. Clasping a small-caliber gun in her hand, she laid it across Amelia's chest.

"I've followed your instructions," Jeannie said. "I've come alone, without the police or Sam Dundee. You have what you want. Please release the children."

"Such concern for these little ones." The baritone voice came from a tall, slender woman who held the third group of children in the far right corner. She lifted six-year-old Justin Walker, blind since birth, up on her hip. Justin screamed. The woman placed her hand, which held a gun, over the little boy's mouth.

Jeannie sucked in a deep breath. "Please, put him down. You're frightening him."

"Hush now, child," the tall woman, who was wearing a frumpy floral-print dress, said. "If Jeannie loves you, really loves you, none of you will need to be sacrificed."

Jeannie couldn't bear the thought of a child being harmed because of her. How could these women threaten the children, when they claimed to be believers in a religion of love and compassion?

"I'll leave with you," Jeannie said. "I'll go with you to Maynard Reeves without protest."

All the teachers had been lined up against the wall on the far side of the cafeteria. Jeannie looked at them, one at a time, hoping to convey hope and love. Marta McCorkle was conspicuously absent.

"Where's Marta?" Jeannie asked.

"Ms. McCorkle is in her office," Danette Suddath said. "She's there to answer the phone and make sure the outside world thinks everything is normal here at the Howell School."

Jeannie sighed with relief. For one split second, she had feared for Marta's life. "My car is outside. The keys are in the ignition. We can walk out of here, and you can take me to Reverend Reeves. Right now."

"We won't need your car," Danette said, forcing her daughter to walk around her classmates sitting on the floor. "Our plans are already made."

"All right." Jeannie walked into the room, slowly moving toward Danette. "I'm prepared to go with you, on your terms."

Missy Suddath took a step toward Jeannie. "Are you a bad guy?" the child asked. "They're calling you ugly names. I don't like you playing bad, Jeannie."

"I'm not really bad. Remember, this is just a game." Jeannie reached out her hand to Missy.

"No! Don't touch her!" Danette jerked her daughter close to her side, the gun she held resting over the child's body. "I won't have you contaminate her with your evil."