Forgiven by Gina Detwiler

Author:Gina Detwiler [Detwiler, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: inspirational fantasy
Publisher: vinspirepublishing
Published: 2019-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

26: Figure it Out

Grace

Ripley forwards Jared’s email to me. I read it over and over, unbelieving. That’s it? That’s all we get? It makes me spitting mad. How dare he? He disappears without telling us where he’s going and doesn’t even have the decency to call and then…this?

“Maybe he can’t say anymore,” says Penny. “Maybe they have him under surveillance and they are controlling what he says. Otherwise, he would have called, right? Not emailed.”

Ripley does manage to trace the location of the email server. “He’s in Iceland all right,” he says. “Makes sense. Speer has a house there, although no one knows exactly where it is. They say you can only get there by helicopter.”

But why didn’t he say more? I concoct an elaborate scenario in my head—Jared acting as a spy, learning Speer’s secrets and his intentions. He would come home soon and reveal all.

Another day passes with no further word. And then I get a call out of the blue. From Shannon.

“Grace…” Her voice is tentative, as if she’s afraid I will hang up. “How are you?”

“Uh…okay. What’s the matter? Is everything all right?” I wonder if Lilith is back but I hear no trace of the demon in her voice.

“Yes, fine. I’m in New York. I wondered if I could come and see you. I—I need to talk to you.”

“You want to come here?” My mind scrambles for an excuse. I’m traveling to Paris. I’m under quarantine. I’m going into witness protection.

“Only for an hour. I can’t stay.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Great. I’ll be in Buffalo in two hours. Can we meet somewhere?”

I give her the name of a restaurant called the Flying Tigers, near the airport.

“See you soon.” Then she’s gone, the dead silence of an empty line filling my ear.

Silas is painting a mural on the tile backsplash in the kitchen, a surrealistic windswept tree that reminds me of the graffiti he used to paint at the silo.

“That was Shannon on the phone,” I say.

He stops painting and looks at me, waiting.

“She’s coming to Buffalo in a couple of hours. She wants me to meet her.”

“Oh?” Hopeful rather than anxious. “What for?”

“She didn’t say. But she sounded…different.”

“Different?”

“From the usual Shannon. Nervous.”

“Well, it’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other.”

“But for her to suddenly fly to Buffalo—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I shake my head. “I can handle it.”

He gives me a half-smile. “Okay then.” He returns to his painting. I can tell he’s disappointed.

I drive the Mini to the restaurant and tell the hostess I’m meeting someone. She takes me to a table at the large windows looking out on the runway. A dad with two sons is at another table. The boys are plastered to the window, watching a taxiing plane while the dad explains how planes fly.

I flip through the menu and read the history of the Flying Tigers Fighter Squadron on the back cover. They were a volunteer squadron of American fighter pilots from WWII. A photo shows them with one of their planes, the nose painted to look like an angry shark.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.