And Then Came A Lion (Lions and Lambs Book 1) (8 page)

“Susannah.” Dr. Sekelsky began. “Do you know you can manipulate your dreams?”

She shook her head.

“When you have your next dream about the bear, don’t run. Face him.”

“I’ve tried, with terrible consequences.”

“No, I am not talking about fighting with it and trying to destroy it. I mean facing it, forcing it to back down away from you.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Try.”

Susannah walked out of the office with knots in her stomach. Face the bear and not fight for her survival? Wouldn’t the animal tear her apart? So far, all of her encounters were horribly violent. She prayed the dreams would just end ― just go away. Her heart was tired.

***

Rachel was waiting in the break room with coffee.

“You must be physic.”

“I just know my best friend, coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon.”

“You’re right, Rachel. Thank you.”

Susannah accepted the mug, and gestured toward Aaron’s office. “And how is he this morning?”

Rachel’s eyes flickered to the office and back to Susannah. “Good. The quarterly report showed increased sales, lower overhead and increased profits. Not a lot, but some, and he’s in a much better mood this morning.”

Susannah sipped her coffee. “Well, can’t blame him if he’s anxious when sales are down. After all, he’s held accountable. They couldn’t pay me enough to take his job.”

“Me either. I’m happy as a clam just doing my daily tasks, shutting everything down, and going home.”

Susannah nodded and glanced at the clock. “Well, guess it’s that time, already.”

She followed Rachel down the hall to their desks, turned on her computer, and groaned. “Ugh. I forgot, end of the quarter reports. Wanna trade jobs today?”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding? I have to close out the pay period, the monthly and quarterly financial statements, and reconcile the bank statement. I’ll take your reports in a heartbeat as long as you do my stuff.”

“On second thought, I’ll take the boring data entry.”

“Such a friend you are.”

At lunch, they took Susannah’s car to the park.

Susannah stared out the windshield. “I hate it when the snow blows sideways.”

“Yeah, I do too. Hey, instead of staying here and eating cold lunches, let’s go over to the café and get soup. A bowl of hot soup in a warm building sounds a whole lot more appealing than sitting in a cold car eating cottage cheese and fruit cocktail.” Rachel looked over at Susannah. “Or did you bring something really yummy?”

“No. We were out of lunch stuff after I made Mark’s lunch and I only had peanut butter and a little bit of jelly to use. Soup sounds good.”

The small café catered to the local offices and offered daily lunch specials, a quiet atmosphere, and a professional staff. Susannah felt the once or twice a month treat wasn’t too hard on the budget and it did go a long way toward staving off the winter doldrums.

She chose her favorite, cream of broccoli and cheese soup with a thick slice of sourdough bread and a small side salad. Rachel opted for a large bowl of chili accompanied with an equally large slice of cornbread, and coffee.

Susannah watched the food quickly disappear. “Did you even eat breakfast this morning?”

Rachel shrugged. “Reminder to self: do not hit the snooze button too many times.” Rachel looked down at her empty bowl and held her stomach. “Now I’ve eaten too much.”

Susannah didn’t say a word.”

“So, how are the counseling sessions? Going any better? Helping?”

It was Susannah’s turn to shrug. “I guess. I like Dr. Sekelsky. He is compassionate and caring. He made me a promise and gave me a book and some exercises.”

“Exercises?”

“Yes.” Susannah explained about the book, his theory about the dreams and his promise of no longer feeling the emotions from the assault.

“Wow. Sounds like progress to me.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

Rachel looked at her watch. “We’d better get back. Can’t use and abuse Aaron’s good mood too much.”

The remaining few hours flew by and Susannah scurried to finish up and clock out on time. She stopped at the market on the way home and re-supplied the pantry.

After dinner, she sat with Mark and watched an endless sea of nonsense until fatigue sent her to bed.

***

That night the dream changed. Instead of a horde of snarling beasts, the one massive bear stood on a timbered rise, glaring down at her. Susannah stared back from inside a cabin door. The colossal animal tossed his head back and forth, pawed the ground, and charged.

His beautiful, tawny coat shimmered in the sunlight and rippled along hard, lean muscle. He closed the distance, red pig-eyes filled with hate. Susannah stood her ground. A huge paw swung.

I can’t!

She jumped back and slammed the door shut.

Susannah rolled to her side, pulled her legs up, and hugged her pillow. The bear did indeed represent her hate, her anger. She hated in spite of the anger management exercises and the therapy. She hated Brian Falun, and all the men like him, and she’d do anything to stop them, anything.

***

Susannah leaned back from the computer and stretched her back. The office clock read almost noon.

Rachel glanced over. “Is it that time? My stomach has been growling for over an hour.”

Susannah started to reply and then stopped. The old Indian appeared in the doorway. With a wave of his arm, the office disappeared. Grant Playground took its place.

The old Indian gestured toward a car parked at the curb. Susannah watched a woman exit a blue compact. She carried a small sack toward a nearby garbage can, leaving her small daughter buckled in the back seat, the engine running.

Two men approached. One opened the driver’s door of the blue car and climbed in. The other jumped in the passenger side. The woman spun around as the car shot out of the parking lot and sped up the street. She dropped her sack and raced after the car, screaming.

Susannah and the old Indian followed the car through the neighborhood, out onto the main streets, and then west to High Bridge Park. The vehicle pulled into a parking slot nearest the trailhead and the two men climbed out. The driver unbuckled the girl and pulled her from the car. A white van pulled next to the car and two men got out. One was Brian Falun.

“Susannah?”

The scene faded. The office reappeared.

Rachel was standing near desk, a concerned look on her face. “Are you all right?”

Susannah nodded. “Yes. I just had a premonition.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ve got to go.”

She sprinted to her car, peeled out of the parking lot, and headed northwest toward High Bridge Park. Grant Playground was too far away. She’d never arrive in time to stop the carjacking, but she could intercede at the other end. She glanced at the dashboard clock and urged the slower drivers out of her way.

Visions of small bodies lying in the brush pushed her anxiety into aggression. She cut corners, sped through yellow, almost red lights, and swerved around slower moving vehicles. Horns blared and other drivers yelled silent expletives through closed windows. Susannah ignored them.

She pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at High Bridge, no sign of the car or the van ― yet. She checked her cell phone reception. All the bars showed good strength.
Excellent.
She felt for her upgraded, police grade pepper spray. If the child wasn’t too close…

The Amber Alert flashed on the phone’s small screen and she counted off the minutes. They were close now. She slipped on her earpiece. This time, all she had to do was play the Good Citizen, and pray that was enough. Surely, Falun wouldn’t touch her with so many potential witnesses.

Seconds later, the blue car eased into the parking area and parked. The two men got out. Susannah exited her car and walked toward them, speaking loudly into her microphone.

“911? Yes. I see the car and the two men. The child is still in the back seat. They are here at High Bridge Park.”

The two men exchanged looks.

Susannah continued walking toward the car. “Yes, I have descriptions and the license number of the car. ETA for an officer is one minute? Yes, I will stay on the line.”

The driver bolted for the trail head, followed closely by the other man. Susannah watched as they disappeared into the brush. Satisfied they weren’t coming back, she opened the back passenger door and knelt beside the frightened child.

“It’s okay. Your momma is on her way.”

The van pulled into the entrance and stopped. With sirens announcing the imminent arrival of the police, the van backed up and drove off.

***

Rachel looked up as Susannah hurried through the front office to her desk.

“You’re clear. He didn’t notice.”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Everything okay?”

Susannah nodded. “The child’s safe.”

“Care to talk about it?”

“Sure. Coffee after work?”

“Deal.” Rachel turned back to her computer.

Susannah logged back into hers and stared at the screen. What would do if that happened during regular work hours? How would she explain to Aaron her sudden need to leave? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, counting to ten as Dr. Sekelsky had instructed her. The breathing exercise helped calm the rising panic.

Well, she’d just have to deal with that if it ever happened. She turned her attention back to her spreadsheet. 

At five, they said goodnight to Aaron, locked up the front office, and drove over to the small café. They sat in one of the corner booths and ordered coffee.

Susannah described the carjacking and her intercession at the park. “The police found the two men about a mile down the creek trail, hiding in some dense brush. Both have long arrest records, mostly for car theft. It appears the kidnapping was unintentional ― except, I don’t understand the presence of the white van, or Brian Falun.” Susannah took another sip of coffee, and made a face.

Rachel waved the server over for a refill. “That is really strange. Did you mention that to the police?”

“I did. They took note. One officer asked me if I had seen the van and Falun on any other occasions. Wonder what he meant by that?”

“That is strange.”

“Anyway, I wish I could hear the statements of the two car thieves. I’d sure like to know if they are linked to Falun in anyway.”

“Will the police tell you?”

Susannah shrugged. “I doubt it, unless they do find a connection to me.”

Rachel nodded. “You are probably right. Just another coincidence.” She leaned back against the seat.

“I hope that’s all it is.”

Neither spoke for a few minutes.

Rachel leaned forward. “So, how are the nightmares and the panic attacks?”

“Better. I see Dr. Sekelsky again tomorrow.”

***

Susannah leaned back into the cushions of the couch and watched as Dr. Sekelsky closed her file.

“Well, Susannah, I believe you have the tools to take and keep control of your life. Unless something else comes up, and you need further assistance, I think we can suspend your sessions. But, before you leave, I need to add there is still one other step to total healing. You know you still need to find a way to forgive. As you read in the book, there aren’t any short cuts or other methods to relieve
all
your symptoms.”

“I know. And I’ve tried.”

“Keep trying, Susannah.”

She had tried, repeatedly. She said the words, but they were meaningless and empty. Her heart still harbored strong emotions that ignited easily, keeping her in an almost constant state of agitation.

Susannah watched the sun illuminate the horizon, changing it from cobalt to rose, from rose to amber, and finally to cerulean blue. The seasons were changing, fall, then spring, then summer. There would be vacations, celebrations, and holidays. Would her life hold a new rhythm, one devoid of crises, tears, and sorrow? Perhaps the image of the inferno didn’t mean that earth shattering-life-altering events were coming. Perhaps there would be just the occasional, temporary illness, or a few financial bumps.

Looking at the bright blue sky, she thought about the lyrics to her favorite song. Too bad, there wasn’t a rainbow and that the area didn’t hold blue birds. She hummed a few strains as she put away her devotions and collected the breakfast dishes.

After placing the cups and plates in the dishwasher and feeding Buddy, she went upstairs, showered, dressed, and headed into town to work.

Rachel was waiting in the breakroom, as usual. She handed her a cup of fresh coffee.

Susannah sniffed. “Sometimes I think it smells even better than it tastes.”

Rachel arched an eyebrow.

Susannah laughed, took a sip of coffee, and said, “You’re right. It tastes just as good as it smells.” She took another sip and smiled. “So, how was your weekend?”

Rachel sighed. “Busy, as usual. Yours?”

“Unusually quiet, thank goodness.”

“Well, that’s good. Nice to have some quite time. That’s a rare commodity at our house.”

“I suppose.” Susannah set her mug on the counter. “I was wondering if you still have the phone number for that Christian counselor?”

“Yeah, somewhere in my purse. Why?”

“Dr. Sekelsky told me the only way I would get rid of all my symptoms is to find a way to forgive Falun. I’ve tried everything I can think of and nothing’s working. I thought a Christian counselor my help.”

Rachel led the way back to their desks, retrieved her purse from the side drawer, and pulled out her battered address book. She flipped through several pages. “Ah, here it is.”

She wrote the number down on a sticky note and passed it to Susannah.

“Thanks.” Susannah tucked the number in her purse, took a deep breath, and turned back to her computer.

She prayed Dr. Sekelsky and the victims quoted in the book were right. How could something that seemed so simple be so difficult?

That evening after diner, Mark and Susannah sat in the den. A fire crackled in the fireplace, dispelling the mournful song of a wind whipping the snow outside the window. Her overactive imagination conjured up wolves or other wild creatures howling amid the thick timber, creatures that only existed in her imagination.

Shaking her head at her own silliness, she picked up her book and read until the words no longer made sense. She stood, stretched, and looked over at Mark. He still looked engrossed in a magazine. She guessed a sport, golf, or a trade publication.

“I’m heading to bed. Are you staying up?”

“Yes, for a bit. I want to finish this article.”

Susannah gave him a kiss and walked to the door. She looked back at Buddy. “Are you coming?”

He snuggled back down next to Mark. With a shrug, she went upstairs.

***

She had a different kind of dream that night. She and Mark strolled along one of several paths paralleling a creek. They stepped onto one of the many small, arched bridges and paused. Susannah leaned over the railing and looked up at the lodge.

The main building shimmered in the waning light, windows ablaze. The numerous satellite cabins were alternately dark and brightly lit. She gazed skyward. Stars covered the expanse from horizon to horizon, more stars than she could remember seeing. They were brighter on cold nights, and that February night was cold. Snow still lay in patches on the north side of the buildings and along the northern slopes. The tangy scents of pine, fir, and sage left a bitter taste on the back of her tongue.

Mark squeezed her hand. “Susannah, I have to go, and you can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t go with you?”

Without another word, he walked off the bridge and disappeared into the night. Susannah stared after him. Loneliness and grief unpacked their bags and made themselves at home in her heart.

With heavy steps, she walked to the top of a low rise and sat on a wooden bench. The pain was too much. God was wrong. She couldn’t bear it.

She grabbed her stomach and leaned over in a vain attempt to squelch the pain.

Sensing movement in her periphery, she looked up into the face of Jesus. He sat next to her, put His arm around her, and drew her close.

“Susannah, you will never look at the stars alone.”

She opened her eyes and stared up at the bedroom ceiling. Light from the window played across the surface.
Oh God, please don’t take Mark! Haven’t I suffered enough?

Rolling over, she sat up, and slipped out of bed. She grabbed her robe and went downstairs. While the coffee brewed, she went out to the street, retrieved the paper, and hurried back inside.

The headline blazed the news. Police had discovered a large ring of human traffickers operating in the Pacific Northwest. The joint investigation asked for anyone with any knowledge to call local agencies. The investigators were especially interested in the four men pictured below. Brian Falun was one of the men pictured.

Susannah sank onto the bench seat. She had not thought of him as part of a ring of criminals. Instead, she had the distinct impression he worked alone.

Mark sauntered into the kitchen and poured coffee. “Honey, you look exhausted. Didn’t you sleep well?”

Susannah shook her head.

He held up the pot. She nodded. He poured her a fresh cup and settled into the breakfast nook beside her.

He looked at the headlines. “More children?”

“It doesn’t mention that, but I would assume so, along with a host of other missing teens and a few young women.”

“That’s a lot of people.”

“It is and not just girls, boys and young men as well.”

He shook his head. “There are some evil people out there.”

“Yes, there are.”

He tapped Falun’s picture. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

Susannah nodded.

“I’m sorry, Honey. Come here.”

Susannah leaned heavily against his shoulder. She didn’t dare tell him what was really bothering her. How much time did they have?

Never again would she feel anger or impatience with him. She would memorize every nuance of their relationship and hold them in her heart, bracing for what was to happen. The only thing she didn’t know was when ― or how.

***

Susannah finished fixing dinner and settled in the breakfast nook with the evening paper. Chances were good she would end up eating alone, again, and warming Mark’s plate when he came home. He was coming in later and later.

As if he had read her mind, her phone rang. 

“Susannah, I’ll be a little later tonight. I’m going to meet with a new associate. With the extra help, I should be able to cut back on some of my hours and spend a little more time with you.”

Thank you, Lord. Thank you
. “Should I make a plate for you?”

“No, we’re doing a dinner meeting. Love you. See you later.”

Susannah closed her phone and set it on the table. It would be good to have her husband back. The clock was ticking.

After dinner, she snuggled into her oversized chair with a fresh cup of coffee and a book. After only a few pages, the old Indian appeared in the doorway. With a gesture, the room disappeared, replaced by a subdivision. A girl, approximately ten years of age, walked along the sidewalk. The street sign at the nearest intersection was clearly visible. Wellesley and Morton, about a half hour drive north.

As the girl approached the intersection, a white van pulled to the curb and the middle-aged male driver got out. He said something. The girl shook her head and ran. The man grabbed her from behind, simultaneously putting his hand over her mouth and pressing a cloth to her face. He then carried the unconscious girl back to the vehicle, shoved her inside, and sped off.

Susannah watched the man travel through the city, turn onto Rural Route 5 and continue toward an area of large warehouses. He carried the still unconscious girl into the building.

The scene evaporated, leaving only the old Indian the doorway. “They are collectors, Susannah, and they must be stopped.”

Susannah bolted from her chair to the kitchen, scribbled a hurried note about an urgent errand, and rushed out to the car.

She drove north under the I-90 overpass and continued across the river into a commercial area. Gradually the businesses thinned, replaced by subdivisions. She drove by a large park at North Empire and North Division ― another good hunting ground for pedophiles. There were so many. If she was not the Lone Crusader, she could help more kids.

That side of town was unfamiliar, and looked different from the scene played out in the premonition. Perhaps time had compressed in the vision, altering reality slightly. The appearance of some of the streets and buildings were different. Wellesley was a huge thoroughfare with four lanes of traffic rather than the smaller side street the premonition had indicated. Yet, the vision couldn’t be wrong. None of them had been – yet.

By the next block, the setting changed to a perfect replica of the neighborhood from the vision. There, on the corner of a side street, sat the house, surrounded by trees and thick shrubs. Susannah pulled up and parked.

A few minutes later, the girl appeared. Susannah moved up to the intersection. The van pulled in behind her, riding her bumper.
So, it begins.

She rolled down her window and called to the girl. “Do you know where 1345 East Princeton is?”

The girl stepped further back from the curb, but nodded and pointed south. “I don’t know the address, but Princeton is down that way.”

Susannah glanced in the rearview mirror. The van sat, waiting, the driver’s attention on the girl.

“Thank you.”

Susannah pulled through the intersection, watching the other vehicle through her rearview mirror. The moment the man stopped and talked to the girl, Susannah made a U-turn and headed back. By the time she reached the intersection, the man had the girl in the van and it was heading toward the main thoroughfare.

She dialed 911.

“What is your emergency?”

“I want to report an abduction at the corner of Wellesley and Morton.”

Susannah gave a description of the vehicle, the kidnapper, and the license number. Knowing his destination, she didn’t need to keep him in view, only pretend for the dispatcher.

Two blocks down, a patrol car pulled out directly behind the kidnapper and flashed his lights. The van accelerated, screaming through the next intersection with the patrol car close behind. Susannah couldn’t keep up. She pulled to the side of the road, closed her eyes, and prayed.

***

Buddy greeted her at the back door.

“Hey, Buddy. No Dad? Well, I guess it’s too early for him to be home yet.” She wadded up the note and threw it in the trash. “Hungry? I bet you are.”

After feeding him, she settled her chair in the den with a new novel and a small bowl of popcorn.

An hour later, she carried her bowl out to the kitchen sink, rinsed it out, and put it in the dishwasher. She glanced at the clock. Nearly seven and Mark still wasn’t home, nor had he called. A gnawing uneasiness buzzed around her heart.

She went into the living room, turned on the TV, and flipped through a few channels, settling on a wildlife program. After watching a few minutes, she turned it off, went back to the kitchen, and picked up her phone from the counter. She tried calling Mark. He didn’t answer his office phone or his cell. She dialed again and left a message on both. A half hour passed and still no return call.

Susannah paced in front of the large living room windows, the knot of worry growing larger, more volatile. Mark hadn’t said where they were meeting. She didn’t know the name of the man he was meeting with. But, if something were wrong, someone would call.

She went back to the kitchen, filled the teakettle, and set it on the stove. While it heated, she rummaged around in the cupboard and pulled out her box of Earl Grey tea. She picked out a lighthearted book from the bookcase and laid it next to her chair.

Her phone rang. Susannah snatched it up and answered. It wasn’t Mark.

“Mrs. Carlson?”

“Yes.”

“This is Providence Trauma Center. Your husband has been in an accident.”

She slid off the chair to the floor, clutching her phone. Buddy crawled over to her and climbed in her lap and licked her cheek. She absentmindedly brushed him off.

“How bad is he hurt?”

“He is in a coma and unresponsive. I can’t give you much in the way of hope.”

She closed her eyes. The dream of the lodge flashed through her mind. Mark said he had to leave and she couldn’t come with him.