From Pharaoh's Hand (14 page)

             
“If anyone out there has information leading to the whereabouts of our daughter, Elizabeth Merriweather, please, please come forward. You can remain anonymous and still collect the reward if our daughter is found, dead or alive. We just want the information. Please, please help us find her. If you are holding her hostage, contact us to arrange for the ransom money to be delivered in exchange for our daughter. Elizabeth, if you are watching, we love you. We want you to come home. We want you and our grandchild. We don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done. Just come home to us. We love you.”

             
They were not prepared for the chaos that followed in June. Leads came pouring in from all over the country, and a few from outside the country, further raising the Merriweather’s hopes that their daughter was, indeed, still alive. There were so many new leads that the police were having a hard time following up on them all. The hotline they had set up rang constantly. Each time it was someone claiming to have seen Elizabeth in their neighborhood, at a convenience store, hitch hiking through the mountains, or shopping for groceries. Volunteers were brought in to man the phones and take down crucial contact information so that the police could follow up each lead.

             
The investigator was brutally honest when he spoke to John about the case. He was not jubilant, as John expected, but rather somber.

     “
You realize that the money has brought out every crazy in the woodwork, don’t you John. You may have slowed the investigation to a crawl.”

             
“I don’t see it that way. At least we’re getting leads. Just because you guys have to do a bit of work to keep up, that’s not my fault.”

     “
John, we don’t have the manpower to keep up the pace. As harsh as it sounds, your case is not our only case.”

          “
What are you saying?  That you won’t follow up on these leads?”

     “
No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that we will do our best, but we have other cases to work. Don’t expect too much is all.”

             
“I fully expect you to follow up on each and every lead as if it were the one to bring my girl home. Do you understand?”

     “
I understand. As long as you understand, John, that raising the reward money does not guarantee we’ll find her.”

             
“I’m fully aware of that. Now get back to work finding my daughter.”

     “
There are at least three very promising leads I need you to be informed of, John. Two we can follow up on. The third is out of our jurisdiction. Out of the country even. There’s a mountain of red tape involved. There’s a chance your daughter might have been sold into a prostitution ring in the Caribbean. A tourist claims to have seen a young blonde fitting her description in the straw market in Montego Bay, Jamaica. She was obviously pregnant, and she fit the description. Her hair was braided, and she was soliciting tourists for sex and was in the company of a tall Rastafarian native wearing dreadlocks and a rainbow-colored toboggan.  We have no jurisdiction in the British Isles, but we are considering sending a private investigative team down there under the auspices of tourism.”

          “
I’m going. I have to go. Carolyn and I will get a flight out tomorrow.”

     “
Don’t go flying off on a whim, John. Let the professionals handle this.”

             
“I can’t just sit by and let my daughter be held captive on some West Indies island. If it’s her, I’m bringing her home.”

     “
You will just attract more media attention John. It could scare her captors. You could be endangering her.”

             
“Then I will just have to go undercover, won’t I?”

             
“I can’t say as I blame you John. You do what you have to do. But be careful. It’s a different world. Take some protection with you. Take the professional team with you, John. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

     “
Ok, you’re right. Give me their contact info. I’ll arrange for us all to go down together.”

             
“The team is AriesOne. They have experience with investigating crimes like this. But they specialize in finding bodies. Either way, you’re in good hands. I trust them. Give me a couple of days, John. We’ll set it all up for you. If you must go, this will give you time to get your things together and get your business taken care of here.”

     “
Fine. Let me know as soon as you have the arrangements. And while we’re gone, I expect you to follow up on those other two leads, in case this doesn’t pan out. We’re going to find her. I can feel it. My daughter’s not dead.”

             
“I sincerely hope you do find her John. We all could use a happy ending to this one.”

             
It was a balmy 85 degrees when AirJamaica touched down on the short Montego Bay runway on Memorial Day. The aquamarine Caribbean water rushed up to meet them, the Blue Mountains blurring past the windows as the plane screeched to a halt. Airport workers rolled temporary steps up to the doorway, and the passengers descended onto the airport pavement. John and Carolyn stepped off first, followed by three middle-aged men in short sleeves. They were greeted in the lobby by lovely ladies passing out Jamaican rum and dancing to the strains of Reggae.

             
“Welcome to Jamaica, mon,” they nodded.

             
              The airport was hot and sweaty, and they spent an hour waiting for their luggage. Finally they retrieved their baggage and made their way to an airport van that was to take them to their hotel. They passed vibrant flowering plants and palm trees that swayed in the breeze. Carolyn studied every face of every person she passed. It was a small island. She would scour every square inch of it if she had to. She would find the Rastafarian with the rainbow toboggan and dreadlocks down his back. She would find him. And then she would find her daughter.

             
The van took rattled along the street. It wound its way along the bay, offering breathtaking views of the sunset that was upon them. They were behind a slow moving vehicle, but not for long. The driver honked his horn two short honks, and then proceeded to pass on the hill. Carolyn held her breath and prayed. The driver noticed her in his mirror.

             
“No worries, Mum. It’s the way of life here. I get you there safe and sound Mum.” But by the looks of the van, the obvious rusted dents in the front and back bumpers, Carolyn had to doubt his optimism. She was grateful when the van finally pulled up in front of their hotel. She had breathed diesel the entire way, and was feeling a bit nauseous from the reckless drive. John steadied her as they exited the van.

     “
Let’s get checked in, hon. We’ll start the search tomorrow.”

             
“We have to find her John. We’ve come all this way. I can’t face another disappointment.”

     “
We’ll find her, honey, we will.” Then John turned to the three men that had arrived with them.

             
“We’d like to freshen up a bit, get cleaned up for supper. How about we meet in the lobby at 6:00 to discuss our plan of action?”

     “
That will be fine, John. We want you to know we’re going to do everything in our power to help you find Beth. If she is on the island, we will find her.”

             
“I so appreciate your agreeing to help out with the search. Her mother and I are encouraged by this new lead.”

             
“Never give up hope, John. We have seen some happy endings. You might just get your miracle.”

     “
We do believe in miracles. We have hope in God. See you at 6:00.”

             
They made their way to their ocean view room and unpacked. Carolyn had brought a week’s worth of clothing with her, unsure of how long it might take to find her daughter. She sat down on the bed and faced the patio doors. She looked out toward the ocean. This was paradise. This was a place for honeymooners and vacationers. It was inconceivable to her that someone could have kidnapped her only child and brought her here to exploit her body. If that was truly the case, then what would they do to her when they realized she was pregnant? None of it fit. Still, there was the lead that had come in. Was it a red herring? Had someone deliberately lured them to Jamaica to turn their attention away from the local search? Maybe it was someone else’s little girl in trouble.

             
Ever since Elizabeth disappeared, Carolyn had grieved in her heart for any mother who had lost a child. This was truly the worst thing that could ever happen to a mother. Yet, it happened to one somewhere every day. She would never throw out a milk carton again without studying the faces of the missing children on the side. She would never pass a poster on a bulletin board again without poring over the pictures and saying a prayer for that family, that mother, that child. The plight of these mothers was now real to her. It was her battle now. She must find strength to face whatever lay ahead.

             
“John, did you ever think when Elizabeth was a tiny baby that we would ever face such an agonizing day as this?”

             
              “No, honey. I never dreamed. No parent wants to think of this ever happening.”

             
“I know that no one wants to believe their child is dead. But John, I just don’t feel in my spirit that she is. I can feel her. At night when I close my eyes, I hear her calling out to me. She is alive somewhere. Someone is keeping her from us. But she is alive. We cannot stop looking.”

             
              John sat down on the bed beside his wife. He placed an arm around her and pulled her close to him. He ran his hand through her blonde hair. He closed his eyes and pictured Elizabeth’s blonde hair.

     “
She is a strong young woman like her mother. She will survive. Our grandchild will survive. We have to trust God to keep her safe. Be strong Carolyn. She’s in God’s hands. He is in control of our lives...and our daughter’s life. We must cling to our faith in Him. Together we will make it.”

             
Carolyn looked up at John with tears shining in her eyes.

             
“I don’t know what people do who don’t have God in their hearts to turn to, to lean on.”

     “
Neither do I, honey. Neither do I.”

Chapter 15

When I Became a Man

              Over the last six months since Beth went missing, Christopher Daily had done a lot of soul searching about his role in his girlfriend’s disappearance.  No, he hadn’t kidnapped her or caused her bodily harm, but he had gotten her in trouble on that night in November.  He had tempted her to give in to him; he had introduced her to alcohol and sex.  Technically he was at fault.  And the guilt that he carried with him on a daily basis began to eat away at his sanity.  He had convinced her that he could be trusted.  It was a lie he had told many times to many girls.   If a girl was going to be that naive, then he was certainly not going to turn down a sure thing.  But he hadn’t counted on this turn of events.  He felt ashamed and dirty.  Why should he be allowed to go on about his daily life when Beth was dead, or out there suffering? 
Where are you Beth?  Why didn’t you tell me?  Where did you go? 
And then other thoughts began to flood his mind, thoughts he could barely stand to entertain.

             
We made a baby together.  I’m going to be a daddy, well I was going to be a daddy.  What’s happened to Beth and my baby? 
He wondered if it would have been a boy or a girl, and if it would have looked like him. 
I’m too young to be a father.  I have plans for my future.  But what about Beth’s future?  What about our child’s future? 
They could have worked something out.  He could have gotten a job.  His parents and Beth’s parents would have helped out.  It wasn’t the end of the world.  It must have seemed like the end of the world to her.  She must have been scared out of her mind.  She must have been so ashamed.  And she couldn’t tell me.  She couldn’t tell anyone. 

             
When Chris closed his eyes at night he saw Beth’s face.  He heard her calling out to him from some dark and shadowy void, which he prayed was not death.  “Help me, Chris.  Please help me.  I’m so scared.”  He could see her tearful blue eyes.  He could see her reaching out to him with one hand, the other hand cradling her bulging stomach.  She had to be alive.  She was so pretty. So young. She was out there somewhere.  He missed her--her laugh, her smile, that sparkling, bubbly personality.  Did he love her?  He wasn’t sure.  He had not given their relationship a chance to bloom.  He had crossed the boundaries of intimacy without so much as a second thought.  He was too young to think about having a serious relationship.  And sadly, he realized now, he was really too young for the intricacies of an intimate relationship with anyone.  He knew that now.  The fire that he had been playing with had caused irreparable damage to all their lives.  And even though he was off the hook as far as the law was concerned, he was still guilty.  Guilty as charged.  The weight of his guilt felt like a thousand pounds of iron lying over his heart.   And for the first time in his life, Chris Daily lay upon his bed and wept true tears of sorrow. 

             
“Dear God,  It’s me, Chris.  God, I know that You’re not happy with how I’ve been living my life.  I know that I have been wild and loose and testing my limits.  I’ve gone against everything my parents have tried to teach me about being a good person, about doing the right thing, about being a Christian.  I know I’ve been raised in a Christian home.  But God, I’ve never asked Jesus into my heart.  I’ve never asked for forgiveness for the wrong things I’ve done.  Oh God.  I am so sorry for what has happened.  I’m sorry for all the wrong I’ve done, the drinking, the partying, the sex.  I’m sorry for lying to all those girls I went with, and for taking away their innocence.  I’m especially sorry for hurting Beth.  God help us find her.  Protect her and the baby.  I know she’s out there.  She’s scared God.  Help her to find her way home. Jesus I believe in You and Your death on the cross.  I believe in the power of your blood to save me.  I ask Your forgiveness. I ask You to save me from my sin.  I ask you to come into my heart tonight, and live there.  I want to be a better man.  I want to know what it is to have peace.  God help me.  Help us all. In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.”
              As soon as the words had escaped his lips, Chris felt a calm in his spirit.  His breathing slowed, and his tears stopped flowing.  A strange warmth began to fill his being as the peace of God flooded over him.  This was a feeling like no other he had ever experienced--a feeling that no alcohol could ever elicit.  It was a feeling that no physical connection could duplicate.  Nothing that Chris had ever encountered in his eighteen years felt as free and as wonderful as this fountain of grace that was flowing in and through him at this moment.  His manhood was not defined by his casual intimate encounters, but by his willingness to accept responsibility for his guilt.  And accept the grace afforded to him by Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.  It was on this hot summer night, in his own little bedroom in his parent’s home in Jackson, Tennessee that Christopher Scott Daily put away the idols of his youth and the sins that had so easily beset him.  Not only had Chris, this night, become a Christian, but he had, indeed, become a man.  And from this night on, Chris knew that his life would never be the same. 

Chapter 16

Thy will be done, Lord

             
It had been a miserable month in Jamaica for the Merriweathers. Every morning after breakfast, John and Carolyn gathered stacks of fliers, donned their walking shoes, and set out to comb the island for signs of their daughter. Every morning and evening the search team briefed them on the day’s findings--or lack of them. Every day Carolyn grew more and more despondent, and John more stoic. From the very first day on the island it was apparent that this was going to be no easy challenge, despite the smallness of the island. Their search had stretched from Montego Bay all the way to the far end of the island in Kingston, with Kingston being a primary focus due to its size and population. No one had even the slightest information that could lead to Beth.

             
Most of the islanders approached would just shrug their shoulders and look away. Unemployment was at an all-time high for Jamaica, and they relied heavily on their income from tourists to support the island. No one was willing to jeopardize their international traffic to help the pitiful couple from Tennessee, no matter how much they sympathized with their plight. Carolyn also learned-- much to her dismay-- the rainbow colored toboggans were sold at every market on the island. Everyone wore them. And a large percentage of the native islanders wore their hair in dreadlocks. What Carolyn thought was a fantastic description turned out to be a nightmare. Her heart leapt every time she saw one of the brightly colored hats. She immediately scanned the surrounding tourists for petite, young blondes. Her interest was greatly piqued by the ones that were pregnant. Now that she was looking for a pregnant girl, every young woman on the beach seemed to have that familiar pouch in her stomach.

             
The search team had combed the island for any new land disturbances. They had probed the beaches and caves and most likely spots for burial of a body. They had combed construction sites and landfills. They had walked the streets of Kingston with pictures, and at times even offered money for information. They had knocked on so many doors that news had spread to neighboring communities of them before they even arrived, and the residents would not even come to the door. The grueling days turned into weeks with little reward. Unless John and Carolyn could raise more funds to finance the search, the team would have to return to the U.S. empty handed. But John was not ready to give up on the search.