Sam waited in the hallway for a moment, allowing Reeves to listen to the silence. "What's it going to be?" Sam asked. "Do you and two innocent children die, or do I exchange your life for theirs?"
"Let me go, and I'll send the children in when I reach my car."
"No deal." Sam rubbed the Ruger's barrel up and down the side of Reeves's sweaty face.
"State your terms."
"We'll walk outside. You'll tell your disciples to release the children. As soon as they're within touching distance of me, I'll release you."
"How do I know you'll keep your word?" Reeves asked.
"You don't. You'll just have to trust me, won't you?"
Sam walked Reeves out into the parking lot behind the school. Danette Suddath and an older woman sat inside a dark blue sedan, two children sandwiched between them in the front seat.
"Tell them to let the children out of the car," Sam said.
"Danette. Nora. Release the children."
Once Danette and Nora saw that their beloved reverend's life was in Sam's hands, they opened the car door and ushered the children out, telling them to go to the man with the gun. Missy clasped Amelia's hand, and the two girls walked toward Sam. The moment the girls came within his grasp, Sam shoved Reeves forward as hard as he could, then grabbed both girls up in his arms. Missy and Amelia clung to him.
Reeves ran toward his Lincoln Continental, parked beside Danette's sedan. He started the engine, shifted the gears and roared out of the parking lot. Danette followed him quickly.
Police sirens screamed in the distance. Sam turned around and walked back toward the Howell School. Jeannie stood in the doorway, her eyes swimming with tears. Sam set the two little girls on their feet and pulled Jeannie into his arms. Within minutes the corridor had filled with children and teachers, all of them crying.
Marta rushed out of her office, dropped to her knees and embraced the children closest to her. "Thank God you didn't believe me, Mr. Dundee. I hope you understand why I couldn't risk telling you the truth when you called."
"You saved us all, Sam." Jeannie wrapped her arms around his neck. "I was so afraid, but I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to Missy or Amelia."
"Don't you ever do something like this again." He covered her mouth with his, claiming her, the kiss one of rejoicing and affirmation.
Chapter 16
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Sam had been unsuccessful in persuading Jeannie to allow Marta and the teachers to care for the children. Her compassionate heart would not allow her a moment's concern for herself; her every thought was of the frightened, confused boys and girls who crowded around her, seeking comfort. And she gave them comfort, and so much more, in a way only Jeannie could. One by one, she hugged the children, absorbing their anxieties, freeing them from the trauma they had experienced.
With each child's unburdening, Jeannie grew weaker and weaker. Sam sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her, wanting desperately to give her some of his strength. The moment Marta lifted the last child out of Jeannie's arms, Jeannie turned to Sam, her eyelids drooping and her lips parting on a sigh. She tried to lift her hand to caress his worry-lined face, but she didn't possess enough strength. When she dropped her hand to her side, Sam lifted it, brought it to his lips and kiss her open palm.
"Take care of me, now, Sam." She closed her eyes and fell immediately into a deep sleep.
With Jeannie in his arms, Sam stood and carried her out of the Howell School. Lieutenant Painter met them in the parking lot, halting Sam before he reached the Lexus.
"Is Ms. Alverson all right?"
"She will be after she gets some rest," Sam said.
"I'll need to speak with her as soon as she's able to answer a few questions."
"Give me a call this evening and I'll let you know."
"Tell her that we apprehended Danette Suddath and Nora Dill. And we've put out an all-points bulletin on Maynard Reeves. He finally made a big mistake. We can throw the book at the reverend. He must have lost his mind, taking a school full of disabled children hostage."
"Reeves is obsessed with destroying Jeannie. He's convinced himself and his followers that she really is a witch."
"Tell Ms. Alverson that we'll get Reeves. We've set up roadblocks and are doing an all-out search." Lieutenant Painter glanced down at Jeannie, lying in Sam's arms. "She's for real, isn't she? I mean she actually can take away other people's pain."
"Yeah," Sam said. "She's for real."
He walked away, carrying Jeannie to her car. He opened the door, reclined the seat and laid her down, then closed the door. He got inside, started the engine and drove out into the street. The noonday sun heated the road, creating a shimmering glare. Reaching inside his coat pocket, Sam pulled out his sunglasses and put them on.
She's for real, isn't she? He heard Lieutenant Painter's question echoing in his mind on the drive to Julian's rented cottage. Oh, yeah, Jeannie Alverson was most definitely for real. A real angel of mercy. A real empath who considered it her sacred duty to relieve the suffering of others. A real healer of the human heart.
When they reached the cottage, Sam carried her straight inside to bed. After undressing her, he sat down on the bed and scooted up to rest his back on the headboard, then closed his eyes.
Reeves was out there somewhere, a hunted animal. He would be even more dangerous than before. Now he had nothing to lose. Sam knew what he had to do if the law didn't apprehend Reeves soon.
Reeves had finally crossed the line from mental instability to insanity. Sam had seen it in his eyes. He'd seen that look before, in the eyes of other men, men who had completely lost their hold on reality.
Jeannie moaned in her sleep and turned over, her hands searching. Sam slumped down in the bed, took her in his arms and held her close. Cuddling against him, she returned to a restful sleep. Sam trembled as he held her, the reality of how close he'd come to losing her finally hitting him. He clung to her, stroking her back, dotting tiny kisses over her forehead and cheeks. An ache formed in the pit of his stomach and spread upward, lodging in his throat. Emotions so vast, so forceful that they threatened his sanity consumed him.
Guarding Jeannie was his first priority. Nothing was more important than keeping her safe. Take care of me, now, Sam. Take care of me, now, Sam. Her words replayed over and over in his mind. She had taken care of each one of the forty-five students at the Howell School, depleting her energy, putting her own physical and mental health in jeopardy. And then she had turned to him, trusting him completely, never doubting that she was safe in his hands.
He would take care of her, protect her at all costs, but the one thing from which he could not protect her was her own compassionate heart.
Laying her hand on his chest, she wrapped herself around his big body. Sam drew in a deep breath. How had this happened? How the hell had he allowed himself to become captured by a sweet innocent, by an angel whose tender mercy ruled her life? How could such purity be so sensual, such spirituality be so human, such etherealness be so totally erotic?
Six years ago, when he washed ashore on Le Bijou Bleu, Jeannie had done far more than save his life—she had taken possession of his soul. He had never been able to forget her. The sound of her voice. The feel of her comforting hands. The look in her gentle brown eyes.
He had tried to stop thinking about her, willed himself not to remember the powerful connection that existed between them, but deep inside he'd always known that he could not escape the inevitable. Even his niece Elizabeth, when he stayed with her to recuperate from the nearly fatal gunshot wounds, had sensed he was running away from more than his guilt and remorse over Brock's and Connie's deaths. And Elizabeth, who possessed strong psychic powers, had predicted that Sam would return to Biloxi, and to the woman who had saved his life.
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