Wednesday, December 23, 2015

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 15 (Waking)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 15
(WAKING)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." There are clues everywhere. (LR)



Even before I opened my eyes I was conscious of a presence. When I did eventually open them I was looking into a face of deep compassion from which two of the bluest eyes were shining. I wondered how long he had been there watching over me, even while I was unaware of it. His name came to my muddled brain and since to speak his name was to make him smile, I did just that.

"Bert."

And then he was gone.

I remember when I was a small child I had a big old 'Tom' cat. He followed me everywhere. He always had to be near me, but he never displayed any emotions for me one way or another. One day I fell off my tricycle, hit my head and lost consciousness. When I woke up I discovered my cat was nudging me over and over with his nose, licking my face all over and mewing at the top of his lungs. He had been too small to move me or help me in any way, but he had never left my side as I lay there and when he saw me start to move he was so over joyed that he just couldn't contain his emotions.

In Marc's case ... same reaction; just different species.

But as pleasant as it was to have Marc making such a fuss over me, I was in a lot of pain and when I let out a gasp, he started yelling for a nurse. I'd never seen him so undone before, nor so expressive in public. When a nurse didn't immediately respond he ran out of the room to grab one.

My breathing was shallow and I longed to take a deep breath, but when I tried to do just that, pain like I'd never known before snatched away the little breath I had and I actually saw stars swim before my eyes. By the time Marc returned with two nurses and a doctor, from wherever he had abducted them from, my mind was clearing "thanks" to all that pain and the first thing I said was, "Sarah?!" and  instinctively started to rise from my bed.

It was a nurse who put a restraining arm on me as the doctor started doing things to me with his hands and a little light. Marc's face came back into focus and he said gently and reassuringly, "She's fine. Sarah's fine. Don't worry."

The doctor asked me about my scale of pain and ordered the nurses to "up" my dosage of this and that. When they scampered out of the room to do the doctor's bidding, with Bert on their heels, and the doctor finally took his leave as well, Marc was sitting in a chair right next to my bed and holding my hand. That's when I noticed how awful he looked and knew that the vigil he had held next to me had been both intense and lengthy. But he waited for me to speak first.

"Did the cabin blow up?" I asked with a raspy voice.

"Yes."

"Mr. Harker?"

Marc just shook his head.

"But Sarah's okay?" I rushed to ask.

"Yes. She wasn't in the cabin anymore and was actually quite a distance away when it exploded. Yet she still did receive some injuries."

My eyes widened. He continued quickly, "The explosion splintered the old wood logs the cabin was made of and some pieces of it have been found as far away as three miles from the campground. But you're the only one who received life threatening injuries."

"Did you get hurt anywhere?" I asked anxiously.

"Me? No. I'm indestructible." He teased.

"Actually," Marc continued, "because I was luring the sentries as far away from the cabin as possible, it saved all three of our lives. Coach Fabre is now one of us. Or should I say, 'one with us'."

I knew what he meant. This Coach Fabre had given his life over to Jesus ... completely. Now he was no longer an 'enemy' to us or to Jesus. And it brought back to my mind some of the final conversation I had had with Mr. Harker, but only in a partial and jumbled way.

I had quoted partly from the book of Romans, chapter 5. "But God demonstrated his love for us that while we were sinners and God's enemies, Christ died for us."  I knew it wasn't exactly that, but something like it.
            { Romans 5:8-11 }

By having his life spared, the coach had been confronted by the ultimate evidence of Jesus' love for us, that he died not just for his "friends" but his "enemies" as well, so that one day we might all be members of His "family".

LINK to Next Part # 16 "Epilogue: Case Facts"




"FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (Companion Post)

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction




Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 17 (Epilogue Facts & Life)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 17
(EPILOGUE: FACTS & LIFE)





REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." There are clues everywhere. (LR)



After learning about Ginnette, Sarah was brought to me within the hour. We held each other for a very long time. There didn't seem to be anything else to do. Marc stayed with us for a while but then ultimately left the two of us alone. She crawled into my hospital bed and fell asleep in my arms.

The details of the case made newspaper headlines all across the country. In fact, as you've been reading these events they may have seemed vaguely familiar to you.

Bert had gotten to the police station in record time, but convincing them to drive out to the old Mount Zion Christian Camp in the middle of the night took a bit of doing because the local police were quite familiar with Bert and his conspiracy theories. So Bert decided to approach it differently and tell them that it was my "investigation" that had led us to the camp. But since my theories involved "stuffed bunnies" that didn't help him much. Finally I think the police started driving towards the camp simply because they didn't like the idea of us poking around there in the middle of the night. But when they saw the explosion and a "piece of the camp" actually landed in the road directly in front of one of their vehicles, they decided to make some haste. However their delay in believing Bert may have actually saved their lives, because in the very last tally, parts of the camp were actually found on the outskirts of the town itself.

It didn't take long for the FBI to show up and take over. Then, second only to God's ultimate Judgement Day, the real investigators arrived. The "Internal Revenue Service" descended from "on high" and "books were opened". And everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE) who had more than two nickels to rub together were investigated and audited. But it wasn't actually that many people. Do you remember how I stated that it seemed the town was lacking a "middle class"? There were actually very few rich people in this town at all. And those who did have money were actually involved in the "Bunny Shop", as the press dubbed it.

When the explosion hit, the two 'sentries'  that were chasing Marc around had just gone for a dunking into a river that ran through a small but deep valley, which kept them from all harm. Although, it did cause High School coach Fabre to re-examine his life and come to the conclusion that God had shown him much more mercy than he had coming to him. 
The other man, the one Marc wasn't familiar with, ended up being a relative new comer to this small town. As an interesting side note, do you remember me mentioning that during my first service at the "Cathedral" church I noticed "two men who were both fidgeting fiercely" in their seats? It was the exact same two men. I suppose what I had witnessed was their consciences bothering them while they sat in church. 

They were both given jail sentences worthy of kidnapping a little girl. But while my new found Christian brother, Douglas Fabre, was in the middle of his trial he decided to "come clean" completely and admitted to abusing several of the young boys that had been on the basketball team through the years. (Bert and his "High school prostitution ring" was right again). It increased the Coach's jail time considerably, but it began to set free several of the young men who had been entrusted to him to coach and instead had suffered greatly by his actions. He's now the unofficial but very busy Chaplain at the prison which will remain his home throughout his earthly lifetime. And, although I've never heard him preach, I'm told nobody can talk about God's forgiveness and the power it has to change a life as earnestly as he can.

As to the "good" Reverend Wright, one minute his name was everywhere and then it was nowhere. After he and his church were investigated by the FBI and audited by the IRS he looked destined for jail. Then he was suddenly nowhere to be found. The rumors were that the CIA became involved and the Reverend had some interesting information about national and international weapons smuggling he was willing to trade. But with a rumor who can know?

As to Mrs. Wright, the only thing she seemed to be guilty of was a "love of money", which is actually no little thing. The ultimate irony being that while she was taking offense that someone would suggest that her precious diamonds were cubic zirconia, they ended up being worth even less. Except for a couple pieces of jewelry received from Reverend Wright when they were courting, the rest of her jewels contained more paste than you will find in the toy box of a thousand kindergartners.

Without her husband and with no job and no money, Mrs. Wright fell back on her training as a nurse (which nobody even knew she had). I heard she became a missionary, sold the few jewels that were actually real and used them to purchase clean water wells for poor people in a village in Africa, before returning to Marc's small town to eventually get remarried and settle down with 7 children she adopted from that same village. But as I said, who can believe a rumor? People can invent the silliest things. 
For example, it's also rumored she is so paranoid about her past with Reverend Wright that she has a "high tech artificial intelligence" that guards her home and her children. Her neighbors assure me they've see lights going on and off at all sorts of strange hours of the day and night and her front door opens "automatically" with only a coded knock. But I've actually been to her house and I've seen no artificial intelligence there.

They postponed Ginnette's "Celebration of Life" until after I got out of the hospital and I was the one who gave her eulogy. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. But I recounted the last brief words we exchanged that night at the campground:

"I don't know how I'll ever thank all of you."

"Thank us when we are all home safe and celebrating because your precious daughter is back in your arms again."


 "Oh, and what a celebration that's 'gonna' be!"

Yes. What a celebration when we are all safely Home and Parent and precious child are reunited!

Then people started spontaneously singing the "Mount Zion" song that Ginnette had played over and over in church as a secret code and I knew it was Jesus redeeming that wonderful hymn directly out of the hands of evil men and using it for His glory once again.

LINK to Next Part # 18 "Epilogue: Love"



FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I. from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (Companion Post)

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction






Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 16 (Epilogue Case Facts)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 16
(EPILOGUE: CASE FACTS)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." There are clues everywhere. (LR)



I was very weak that first moment I awoke so I didn't learn all the facts of what happened that night at the Mount Zion Christian Camp or about the facts of the entire case until later. Soon after that first conversation with Marc a nurse came back in, gave me a shot and I was promptly falling back asleep and very grateful to do it. But not before I got Marc to promise he'd go and get some rest for himself as well.

Apparently, I had been very badly wounded although everyone kept saying with amazement that considering my proximity to the blast I should be dead.  My main and most grievous injury had been a large piece of wood that had ripped through my left shoulder and had punctured my left lung as well. It had missed my heart by a "fraction of a fraction of an inch" or else I would have been "fish food", as Bert told me. Repeatedly. They had reconstructed my left shoulder as best they could, but that arm would never work properly again.

Sarah wasn't mortally wounded in any way, but she would have to live the remainder of her life with a prosthetic right hand. I longed to see Sarah and reassure myself that she was okay, but when a week had passed and still nobody had brought her to see me I deduced that something was being kept from me. So as my meal tray was cleared away and Bert (who had taken it upon himself to keep watch over me, especially whenever Marc wasn't present) followed the 'tray lady' out of the room, I turned to where Marc was seated.

The two of us were just looking at each other. We had grown so close that it seemed that even in silent moments we could communicate. Perhaps that's when we communicated best.
His smile darkened and he looked at his hands.

"Now." I began,
 "Tell me what it is you've all been sparing me from."

He looked up at me and gave a firm nod and without any preamble he said, "Ginnette didn't make it. She died."

As an investigator, "the facts" of something had always been a priority, with  emotions always having to wait. But at that moment, even though I didn't know what had happened to her, "the facts" seemed secondary. And, for the second time, I just started to cry bitterly and let the sobs shake me. Marc rose from his chair, came over, wrapped his arms around me and there we remained. Sharing our first truly deep sorrow together.

I suppose in physical weakness my mind had pushed most of the events of that night at "Mount Zion" camp out of my mind, but now my final conversation with Mr. Harker and all that surrounded it came rushing back to me.

Somehow I had come to the conclusion that Harker had been actually wearing the bomb that caused the explosion. Just like a suicide bomber. But in truth, the four of us had bumbled into a camp filled with evil. The bomb was rigged to the bed that Sarah was laying on. It was armed and needed a constant pressure of the weight about the equivalent of a small child to keep it from going off. If Sarah left the bed, or moved around too much it would go off.

When Mr. Harker left the room and was busy with me at the front door, Ginnette crawled into the back bedroom of the cabin through the window. Sarah was not asleep, as Marc had supposed, and quickly told her mother what was happening. Ginnette got into bed with Sarah to add her weight to the bed and sent Sarah out the window, telling her that she would soon follow after she found something that "weighed enough" to put onto the bed.

As for my conversation with Harker, the Bible says Christians are "Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us."
           { 2 Corinthians 5:20 }

Even though at the time it was going on I didn't understand exactly what  was happening, I fully believe that Mr. Harker did. He knew it wasn't me standing there and saying those things to him, but Jesus speaking through me. Pleading for Harker's life, even after Harker had given up on himself.

What did Jesus say to Mr. Harker that night?

 "That he longed to gather him ..."

"That he could give him abundant life ..."

"That he was not just the 'way out' but the Way completely ..."

And ultimately, Romans chapter 5 and verse 8,
"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

And for those of you who have trouble accepting this explanation, remember this, I called Mr. Harker "Joseph", even though I didn't know what his first name was. In fact, I couldn't find anyone who knew what his first name was until several weeks later. But, in spite of Christ's pleas, Joseph Harker still shut the door ... and locked it shut ... from the inside. Could I have witnessed any greater tragedy than that?

Yet, there is still the hope that our God who "so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life"  {  John 3:16 }  was able to convince Mr. Harker to yield his life in the fraction of a second it took for the explosion to rip from the back bedroom to the front room. When Jesus is involved, a person can go from death to life that quickly.

If you seriously consider it, how long does it actually take for a human heart to surrender and be reunited to it's Creator?

LINK to Next Part # 17 "Epilogue: Facts & Life"




FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I. from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (Companion Post)

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction






Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 19 (Epilogue Epilogue)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 19
(EPILOGUE EPILOGUE)





Click PLAY on Bar Below for Song 





What a journey this has been!

What started out literally years ago with a rather frumpy, middle-aged "church lady" coming across a crying child, became the goal of  "wanting to demonstrate what happens when an ordinary person surrenders to an extraordinary God".

It is the desire of everyone involved that this would be demonstrated in your life as well.

You may be wondering what parts of this story are real.  But know and understand that there are some things in life that hold forever true:

"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." 
                        { Romans 5:7-8 }


"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me. To him who overcomes, I will give the right to sit with me on my throne, just as I overcame and sat down with my Father on his throne." 
                { Revelation 3:20-21 }


"And everyone who calls on the name of the LORD will be saved." 
                       { Joel 2:32 }



To Jesus be ALL the glory!




Love Always, Laura-Lee Rahn

December, 2015 Edmonton, Alberta, Canada

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 18 (Epilogue Love)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 18
(EPILOGUE: LOVE)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." There are clues everywhere. (LR)


One week after that "Celebration of Life", there was a "Celebration of Love" and I became Marc's wife. 
He told me he always knew I would marry him eventually. Then I remembered how Bert had been upset with Marc for revealing to me their "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT" knocking code and Marc had defended himself by saying, "She's going to be my wife, Bert. Plus, she's an investigator. How long do you think I could have kept it from her?"

I asked him what had made him so sure I would eventually marry him.

"Well," he started slowly and pensively,
 "your decision to not marry me was coming from your fears surrounding me being younger than you. I suppose I had enough faith in you and in God that ultimately you wouldn't let fear be the deciding factor. Remember, 'There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear. '  
               { 1 John 4:18 }
And even though my love isn't perfect. Jesus' love is."

"I certainly did make you wait though." I responded, feeling a twinge of guilt.

"Yes. But when love is real, it's also patient." Marc concluded.

  Then he ran his hand down my left cheek, and let it rest on my left shoulder, which was still bandaged. A gesture that garnered some attention from the other people in the bakery where we stood,
 "And some people are really worth the wait."

I don't suppose I have to tell you that it was not the perfect wedding though. Apparently, the person who put the icing on our wedding cake was new at their job and didn't realize they were using the wrong kind of icing. They were using a type that had to be kept refrigerated. So on the morning of the wedding, when we arrived at the bakery to pick up our 4 tier wedding cake, the icing was a large white puddle on the floor.

Also, the Groom was so nervous he had to make numerous and unrehearsed trips to the washroom during the ceremony. Not to mention the Minister's allergic reaction to the Bride's bouquet of carnations, which caused him to have a violent attack of sneezing. When I realized what was going on I didn't just "toss the bouquet", I heaved it as far away as I could. It landed in the lap of Marc's 84 year old great-Uncle Max who was seated in the second to last row of the church. Three days before the wedding Uncle Max had walked into Susan's house, sat down to supper with the rest of us and asked someone to "pass the peas" like he'd just stepped outside, instead of having been missing for almost 25 years. Nobody had the courage to ask him where he had been all these years. Susan responded by passing her Uncle the peas, shrugging her shoulders and saying, "It's okay, we have a good investigator in the family now."

Of course, what other people would consider "imperfection" were actually "perfect" moments. Like when my flower girl/ring bearer/new daughter came in carrying our rings on a small pink, satin pillow grasped partly in her brand new prosthetic hand.

 Then, right after the Minister pronounced us as "Husband and Wife", the Best Man made a pronouncement of his own:

         "FINALLY!"

("Thank you, Bert.")

We held the Reception at the Old Town Hall (since there is no "new" town hall I never did get an explanation why it is called that) and it didn't take long for the "wedding crashers" to start arriving. Almost all of them were bearing casseroles and various sweets, until our reception turned into a huge "potluck" supper with the entire town in attendance.  I think after what everyone had been through people wanted, even needed, to share in our joy.

And even as poor as most of the people in the town are, we got heaps of truly wonderful wedding presents. But my favorite (and Marc agrees) came in the odd packaging of two small boxes wrapped beautifully, even daintily in matching paper and ribbons and then taped together with silver duct tape. They contained matching wrist watches.

But my favorite part of the ceremony was when, for the very first time, I was introduced by my new married name and at last I was rid of the ridiculous "Mai Breeze" forever.

The minister declared, " I now present to you 'Mr. & Mrs. Marc and Mai ... La Fleur' "!

I'm told the music you pick for your wedding is extremely important and it must be so, because in just the few days we had to plan our wedding I received many, many suggestions for songs. Especially for that all important "first dance" as husband and wife. Since Marc had so many firm beliefs and opinions about how demonstrative a man and woman should be in public, I left the entire thing in his hands. I even told him that if he wished to dispense with dancing altogether it would be fine with me.
Many Christians don't believe in dancing at all and there had even been some serious debating about the issue within Marc's family. He said he thought it was alright if we had "some dancing",  but beyond that I had no idea what to expect.  But since during the entire first two years of our courtship Marc never even held my hand in public, I felt confident whatever he chose would be appropriate, conservative and above all moral. Especially that first dance which is supposed to be the musical reflection of the couple itself.

Going down the aisle it was the traditional "Wedding March".

But what did Marc chose for that all important "first dance" as husband and wife?

Was it a Wedding Standard?

"At Last"
"The Way You Look Tonight"
"This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)"
"Forever and Ever, (Amen)"
"Through the Years"

Perhaps a Classical Song?

"Cannon in D"
"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring"
"The Blue Danube"

Or maybe a Christian song?

" I Will Be There"
"Perfect Union"
"Wedding Song (There is Love)"
"The Prayer"


So what did Marc ultimately chose?

"Finally"

Yup. By CeCe Peniston.

The  "Marc Remix"

My Marc. Full of surprises.

And oh, did we DANCE!
 Because, when all is said and done, nobody understands the joy of a long-awaited wedding like a Christian does.


"Finally! It's happened to me. Right in front of my face. My poor lips can't describe it."

"YEAH, YEAH. OW!


Click PLAY  on Bar Below for song, "Finally"




LINK to Next Part # 19 "Epilogue: Epilogue"



"FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (Companion Post)


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction




Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 12 (Up the Mountain)



CHURCH LADY P.I. Part  # 12
(UP THE MOUNTAIN)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I.". There are clues everywhere. (LR)


It did actually take several minutes of concentrated effort from Bert to get us out of that muddy field which had taken a good drenching from the rain. When we had gotten back onto the small but paved road that had originally brought us out to the old factory site neither Marc nor Bert had offered an explanation of where we were heading, so I finally spoke up,
"I'm assuming 'Mount Zion' means something to the rest of you, because if we are going to the real Mount Zion, in the Holy Land, I'm pretty sure we can't get there with just Bert's truck.

Bert just smiled, but Marc actually shook his head as if he was just emerging from a trance and said, "I'm sorry Mai. I was lost in my thoughts and thinking about all that you just said. Mount Zion is the name of an old Baptist camp ground about 6 miles out of town. It was used for weekend revival meetings, summer camp for kids  and that sort of thing."

"You're using the past tense. Is it not used any more?"

"No. Not for years. It needs a bunch of repairs and nobody ever seems to have the need of it or wishes to spend the money needed to get it fixed. It would be the perfect hide out. I'm not certain Sarah is there, but with the Scripture reference and the hymns recently used, I would say we are certainly going to find something there."

"Is it actually on a mountain?"

Again, it was Marc who responded, "Well, it would be more accurate to call it a 'large hill' ."

"Hmm. That would be perfect if you needed to set up some type of communication equipment." I mused out loud.

"What about the bunnies?" Bert asked without any preamble.

"Yes. That's just what I was wondering. What are the bunnies being used for?" inquired Ginnette, echoing Bert's question.

"Well. I'm not 100 % certain, but I am sure it has to do with the Fireworks Factory that used to be there." I concluded, but then continued again.

 "Marc, you said it made guns and weapons during World War II and then it was decided it would be used to make fireworks, instead of being reclaimed into a canning factory? You factor in the 'secret' storage room in the basement, the people from the explosion all dying of cancer not too long afterwards..."

I left the remainder of the thought unspoken.

"I think it's safe to assume Sarah's bunnies are being used for some kind of smuggling purposes. Perhaps weapons."

"Guns!" Bert answered with an 'Aha!'-sentiment.

We all looked at him.

"Well," I began slowly, "I don't think it's actual guns, Bert.
 It would be rather difficult to fit an Uzi inside one of Sarah's little Velveteen bunnies. Especially without her noticing. But with computers and the like, you could definitely smuggle and sell weapons' designs or a computer program."

"Microfilm!" Bert exclaimed with another 'Aha!' - sentiment.

"And of course, the church would be a perfect front." I continued  drawing conclusions.

"It has been for the baby selling." Bert stated, as if this fact had been established and proven.

I didn't respond to him about that, but continued with my own theories.
"Reverend Wright gives a coded message with the 'inaccurate'  Bible verses and 'repeating' hymns and who knows what else. He can do it right in front of his congregation and send it out to worker and buyer alike, confident that they are the only people who will understand his message or even notice it."

"Also, I can't help thinking about that 'secret' storage room where four people had been sheltered from the Factory explosion. Yet soon afterward they all died of cancer. Could there have been some type of radiation present at the factory? Perhaps there is still a 'secret' storage room buried under ground where the factory used to sit. Perhaps there are also secret tunnels that connect the church and the factory.

Marc suddenly interrupted, "At what point do we call the police, Mai?"

I was glad when Ginnette answered for me. When the police had questioned me about Sarah's disappearance and I started spewing out "Stuffed Bunny" conspiracy theories they were not overly impressed with me.  It was decided that we would poke around the old "Mount Zion Camp" on our own and if we discovered any trace of Sarah or one of her bunnies we would contact the police immediately.

Then Bert piped up excitedly, "What if the police are in on it too?!"

I have to admit that the thought had also crossed my mind. Exactly who was in on it? If ministers, store keepers and ordinary "church folk" were part of a smuggling ring that would go so far as to abduct an 8 year girl because she might be a threat, exactly who could be trusted?

Bert and Marc exchanged knowing glances and Marc asked him with calm intensity, "Is it still there?"

Bert put his eyes back onto the road but said evenly, "It's always there."

Marc leaned forward from the passenger side of the truck cab and opened the glove compartment door. After gingerly feeling around inside of it for a moment, his face registered when his hand gripped the item he obviously was expecting to find there. I wouldn't have been more surprised if he had pulled out a kangaroo than seeing the thing he did pull out. There in Marc's palm lay Bert's hand gun.

LINK to Next Part # 13 "Snooping"



"FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (COMPANION POST)


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction





Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 11 (In The Truck)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 11
(IN THE TRUCK)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I.". There are clues everywhere. (LR)


Marc, who sat directly to my right, gave me a worried look. He had felt me tremble and was taking off his jacket to give it to me. I didn't bother to argue with him.

He asked me calmly, as one might speak when they come across a wounded animal and are not quite sure what reaction you'll get, "Are you alright, Mai?"

"Yes!" I almost shouted.
"Except for being close to winning the prize for densest person on the planet. I'm just fine." I uttered with deep sarcasm.

I quickly got control over my emotions as I realized what I knew and that I would have to reveal some difficult truths to Ginnette who was sitting on my left. Surely she must have felt me tremble as well.

I turned slightly so I could look directly into her eyes. I was trying to decide how much to tell her, which she must have guessed because  she said to me with forced but obvious control, "If you know where Sarah is, then let's hear it. I can handle it. I need to know what you know."

I took a deep breath and began to list and weave my way through the things I did know, thinking it was a good idea to share it out loud to make sure I was thinking right and drawing the correct conclusions. Although my  years of experience, not just as an investigator but as a follower of Jesus, told me I had encountered the Truth once again.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, took a deep, cleansing breath and began:
"Follow me. Here's what we know. Here's the facts we have in front of us."

 I could actually feel the three other people in the truck with me compose and brace themselves to give me their complete attention.
I continued.
"Let's begin with what Bert knows."

He actually wiggled in his seat, apparently pleased that he had not only contributed to my conclusion but was being listed first.
"His conspiracy theories may seem a bit wild and crazy on the surface, sorry Bert," his face fell for just a moment but he recovered quickly.

" but let's look less at what they are and more about who is involved: the 'Cathedral' church with it's baby selling, the High School with it's prostitution ring, and Harker's store with his 'lobotomy tea'."
"That comes down to the Reverend and Mrs. Wright and Mr. Harker. Are you with me so far?" I glanced around at the other people in the truck cab and everyone nodded.

"Then we have the fact of a church that apparently believes the Bible from cover to cover, but nobody brings a Bible to the service. It's very easy to lull people into laziness when it comes to Bible reading. It starts by them putting the Scripture verses on the screen for everyone and before you know it people are saying, 'Oh. I don't need to bring my Bible today. They'll put the verses up on the screen anyway.' "
"Except it's gotten to the point where the Bible is being misquoted often and nobody even notices because nobody has brought their Bible to follow along and check up on whether or not they are accurate."

"Then we have the fact that Ginnette is being asked to play a hymn over and over, whether or not it's appropriate. She doesn't bother to argue about it after a while because she's being given a ridiculously high salary to play a few songs each week. Sorry Ginnette."

She waved her hand in her dismissive way, but her eyes were starting to tear up and betraying the depth of her emotions as she was following along with my reasoning and perhaps realizing that her own foolishness might bring about some horrible consequences for Sarah.

Marc put his hand on my arm, "What do the inaccurate Bible verses and hymns mean?" he asked somewhat excitedly.

"I just chalked it up to human error until I heard you knock on Bert's door. That little code between the two of you that announces that it's you at his door. When you first knocked I didn't know what you were doing. But once you told me what song it represented, I could hear it immediately."

"You told her our knock code?" Bert interjected with a rather hurt look.

"She's going to be my wife, Bert. Plus, she's an investigator. How long do you think I could have kept it from her?" Marc quickly responded.

Bert shrugged it off. Obviously deciding not to be hurt by this supposed "betrayal" of high school buddy secrets.

Ginnette said emotionally but with restraint, "Please. Please. Keep going!"

So I kept going. 
"The Scriptures and hymns are a code. They are messages from Reverend Wright to people in the congregation. If you know what you're listening for it's very obvious, but if you are clueless that there even is a code, you won't hear it. As clueless as Mr. Harker's tea is making the town. Another one of Bert's conclusions."

He gave a small smile that showed he was pleased with himself for getting it right again.

"Then of course we come at last to Sarah's bunnies."

I paused and glanced at Ginnette again. She had closed her eyes and I saw pain etch itself on her face, but then just as suddenly it disappeared as her eyes popped open and she nodded for me to continue.

I did continue, but I put my hand on her shoulder as I did and went forward with gentleness. 
"What you might not know, Little Mommy, is that your daughter is a very smart child. When her bunnies started disappearing and reappearing and sometimes not coming back at all and you'd buy another one ... ? " I paused

"And very cheaply from that B*****d Harker!" she inserted.

"Yes." I squeezed her arm to show my support and agreement.
"Well. That's when she started naming them and 'Booby Trapping' them."

Ginnette frowned at me, "What do you mean 'Booby trapping' them?"

Marc and Bert echoed together, "Yeah. What do you mean, 'Booby trapping them?' " 

They glanced at each other because they had shot out the same words simultaneously, but then immediately focused on me again for the answer.

"She was making marks on them in a way that is so small and subtle that only she would notice. Something that a grown-up or someone without an intimate knowledge of the Bunnies wouldn't notice at all. That way she could keep an accurate record of which Bunnies were coming and going."

"That little Dickens." Ginnette said with obvious admiration.

"Yes. Quite ingenious. I doubt that even most adults would have thought of that."

Then I hugged Ginnette even tighter with my left arm I had placed around her and spoke with as much gentleness as I could when I looked deep into her red eyes and said, 
"But I think they figured that out and I believe that's why she's been taken. She simply knows too much. She can trace and track the comings and goings of those blasted bunnies and it's put her life at risk."

I paused just a moment to let that sink in. 
"That's why we've got to find her as quickly as possible."

I felt Ginnette's entire body tense and brace itself as she looked back into my eyes, "Tell me the truth Mai. I have to know. Do you think we're too late? Is my baby ... dead?"

"No!" I blurted out, with more firmness then I was actually feeling at the time.

"How do you know?" Ginnette asked slowly, searching my face for the answer.

I thought for a moment. How did I know? Then the words came into my mind. Words not based on the clues I picked up here and there but from a lifetime of evidence of being "sure" and "certain".   { Hebrews 11:1 }

"Because Jesus is involved." I responded bluntly.

She shook her head and looked down at her hands in her lap that were gripping and twisting a pretty little hankie with the word 'Mommy' badly embroidered on it. Something I hadn't noticed before. She said in not much more than a whisper, "I wish I could have your amount of faith? But right now all I feel is fear."

"I think you have more faith than you actually realize. Remember. Jesus told us we only need the tiniest amount of faith to move an entire mountain. But add this evidence to your 'tiny' faith.
What are the odds that I would come to this town now? That I'm an investigator? That I attended that church? That I ran into your daughter and became involved in this entire thing? That the people and information needed to solve all of this is found in the memories and perceptions (I glanced up at Bert) of the four people in this truck cab right here and now? And on and on it goes. One or two coincidences can be explained away. But when you look at the odds of all these factors coming together right here and right now ...?"  I left those questions hanging for a moment.

"This is no accident. Even the fact that there are currently more than 50 people united in prayer in the living room of Marc's Aunt and Uncle's house. 
"No. Sarah is still alive and I think we are about to find her too."

Ginnette's head shot up from where it was continuing to look at the hankie she was rotating in her hands.
I could tell she was daring to hope for life. The life of her daughter. When her eyes met mine she asked, "How. What makes you think we're about to find her?"

"Because we are sitting in a muddy, rain drenched field that most vehicles wouldn't have any chance to get out of. Yet we just happen to be sitting in the only vehicle for probably miles that is capable of maneuvering it's way through even the muddiest of fields and back-roads. Bert's truck. No way is that just another coincidence!"

Ginnette actually dared to allow herself to smile.

I turned to Bert and asked, "What do you say, Bert? Are you ready to 'save the day'?"

"Absolutely!"

"Then start her up and let's get out of here."

Bert did just that. And as he revved up his engine a few times by  pumping his gas pedal, he suddenly looked at me and said, 
"Uh. Where are we are going?"

I actually hadn't thought that far ahead. I had been swept up into the emotions of what I was saying , but the 'minor' detail of knowing exactly where Sarah was being held had eluded me.

 Then Marc spoke the first words he had said in quite some time.
"It's okay. I know where we're going."

We all looked at him. He answered matter-of-factly, like it should be completely obvious to all of us. "We're going to 'Mount Zion' !"

Bert nodded. Put his truck in gear and off we went.

LINK to Next Part # 12 "Up the Mountain"



FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I. from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (COMPANION POST)


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction





Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR



CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 14 (Plans and Pleas)


CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 14
(PLANS AND PLEAS)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I.". There are clues everywhere. (LR)


We gave Ginnette about 5 minutes to get into her position next to the crate by the bedroom window. While we were waiting, Bert insisted that we "synchronize our watches". Since neither Marc nor I were actually wearing a watch, Bert ended up just being disappointed. I heard him say under his breath, "What kind of people don't wear watches?" 

I was wondering if Bert had even heard of a thing called a "cell phone". But for all the good mine was doing me since I had come to this tiny town, it probably would have been better if I did have just a regular watch.

Marc slapped him on the back with an "Off you go, Buddy. See you on the flip-side."

Bert simply nodded and ran off at full speed down the hill towards the woods by "Lower Zion" where he had left his truck. I turned to look at Marc when he suddenly scooped me into his arms and gave me the most intense kiss I had ever encountered in my life.

When we finally pulled apart he actually had to steady me on my feet before letting go of me. I looked up at him with mock anger and whispered, "That's not very nice."

He looked at me puzzled, "It wasn't? I thought it was pretty darn nice."

"No." I corrected him, "I mean it's not nice to steal my breath away when I'm going to need it in a couple minutes!" I said, barely audibly.

He had already started jogging backwards away from me saying, "Tit for tat, My Lady. Tit for tat." Then he turned and raced off into the night at his full speed, but in the opposite direction from Bert, heading up towards the heights of the "Mount Zion" hill.

I started walking with slow, purposeful steps towards the Director's cabin thinking about how I was going to tease Marc later for saying the word, "Tit". Twice! I was pretty sure I could get a full on blush from him when I reminded him of it.

Then I suddenly heard Marc's voice yell out, "S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y, NIGHT!!" just once and was amazed that it seemed to be coming from almost half way up the hill already. I heard the voice of each sentry respond (with words I cannot repeat) and I knew Marc would be 'treating' them to a night they would not soon forget.

I was still steadily approaching the dilapidated front porch of the former Camp Director's Cottage when the silly urge to knock and announce, "Avon calling" took me over and I almost giggled out loud.
I decided I had better get serious fast, but as I was picturing Bert in his truck, Marc running around in the night with those two evil men deserving whatever he had planned for them and Ginnette being reunited with her daughter and stealing her out the back window, while I had a "chat" with Mr. Harkins at this end, it all seemed remarkably ridiculous to me.

That is, until I saw the cabin door open a crack and heard the voice of Mr. Harker whisper loudly "Who's out there?" 
Suddenly, all merry-making was thrown off in a split second and a spirit of heaviness fell, as if someone had just thrown a robe of chains across my shoulders.

If Fear had a tangible voice, it would have been Mr. Harker's at that time and that place.

I simply froze in my tracks before the bottom step of the porch. Harker saw me there and I heard him growl in a low, intense voice,
"You! What are you doing here?!"

The door, which he had opened only a crack, he now opened wider to get a better look around. He seemed surprised to see that I was all by myself. Just standing there.

Again, he demanded in a gruff voice, "What are you doing here?"

I simply didn't know what to say. So I just stood there and said nothing. But not only did I say nothing, I didn't seem able to think anything either. And until that moment, I thought it was an impossibility for a person to "think" nothing. But it felt as if someone had just hit my "off" button.

Then one verse from the Bible shot through my mind and I grabbed  hold of it. At least it was a thought. It was something. Although it didn't exactly spur me on to great action:

"As a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth." { Isaiah 53:7 }

And so I just stood there. Saying nothing as that one verse replayed over and over in my head.

Mr. Harker stared at me for what seemed a long while. He listened to the night. Heard nothing. Then he eventually came furtively out of the cabin, constantly scanning around. With a big frown on his face he walked tentatively towards me, looking as if he would "duck and cover" at any moment.

He asked me other questions too like, "Who sent you?", "Where are the others?", "Why are you just standing here all alone?", "How did you get here?"

As he was shooting these questions at me, he made his way out of the cabin and searched me. (For weapons I assume) Then he slowly backed away from me again towards the door of the cabin, but now I realized he had a rifle pointed at me. Still I said nothing.

Then, without any warning at all, I began to cry. Bitterly.

Oh, the depth of sorrow I felt at that precise moment! Even now it's hard to describe. But it felt like every misery in the world had been given to me and I had been overwhelmed by them. As if every heart in the world that knew grief and pain and suffering was beating in my chest. Or maybe I wasn't feeling every heart in the world but rather the suffering of just one heart, but a whole lifetime's worth. What else could I do but stand there and sob?

Mr. Harker's frown had left his face and it had been replaced by what I took to be no emotion at all. He stood there and merely watched as the tears coursed down my cheeks.

When the tears were still flowing, but I had stopped sobbing, I noticed Mr. Harker had gone back into the cabin and was standing just inside the doorway, holding onto the door knob as if for support. His rifle was no longer pointing at me, but resting in the crook of his arm and facing towards the ground. Through the door way, which was wide open, he was still watching me.

He asked, not without some kindness, "What do you want?"


I responded with these words,


"Oh, how I have longed to gather you as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you would not have me." {Matt 23:38} and I felt the longing and tragedy of those words.

Mr. Harker's eyes widened in surprise, but he eventually shook his head and said, "It's too late for that. It's over for me now."

I responded,

 "I have come that you would have abundant grace and life."
        { John 10:10; Romans 5:17 }

Again, he was shaking his head as he said,
"I wish it could be that way, but for me, there's no way out. Maybe there was at one time, but not any more."

I saw his shoulders physically slump.

I responded with,

" You were redeemed from your empty way of life and not with silver and gold, but with my own blood. 
     I am the Way and the Truth and the Life."          
         { 1 Peter 1:18; John 14:6 }

 I paused briefly before adding one more thing, with emotion deeper than I thought myself capable of,

"I love you, Joseph. And while you are still in your sins I have died for you."
                         { Romans 5:8 }

I watched him shake his head over and over and then gently,
 without another word, 
            he pushed the door shut. 
                 I heard a bolt slide into place as he locked it, 
                              from the inside. 

I stood there mere seconds before I turned and started walking away.

Before I had walked another 20 paces I saw a blinding light that filled and overtook everything. It lit up that dark, dark night around me, as if I was suddenly standing on the surface of the sun. I felt my feet leave the ground just before I lost consciousness.

LINK to Next Part # 15 "Waking"






FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I. from "Laura-Lee Was Here" Blog (COMPANION POST)


CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction





Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Part # 13 (Snooping)



CHURCH LADY P.I. Part # 13
(SNOOPING)




REMEMBER: This is a mystery and it must be read in order, including the  Introduction, then Part 1, Part 2, etc. Also read the Companion Blog Post from my Personal Blog, "Laura-Lee Was Here" called, "FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I.". There are clues everywhere. (LR)


"Four Christians with a gun and a kangaroo are crammed into an old pick-up truck and on their way to rescue a little girl from a Baptist Campground ..."

Even without the "kangaroo" we still sounded like the beginning to a bad joke. Oh, if the Lord had revealed to me what was coming I probably would have jumped out of that truck, even if it was travelling at it's top speed.

Bert  suddenly  turned off his headlights and slowed his truck to almost a crawl and I knew we had arrived at our destination: the old and supposedly deserted former, "Mount Zion Christian Campground".

We drove slowly and quietly past what Bert and Marc referred to as "Lower Zion". This apparently is where all the the main outdoor gatherings had happened when this camp was booming with the voices of the young and old alike throughout it's many years of usage. Even in the dark I could see several huge logs still remained where they had been used as make shift "pews" around a massive fire pit.

I couldn't help but think of how it had once rung with the songs of worshippers, prayers of the faithful and penitent, and the laughter of young and old alike. Now it just looked forgotten and forlorn with a 'pinch' of creepy thrown in.

Bert said he knew a good place to "stash my truck while we snoop around" and the moment we passed the gathering place he turned and drove directly into a grove of trees.

All four of us got out of the truck as quietly as possible and didn't actually close the cab doors but just shut them. Marc had taken the responsibility of keeping Bert's hand gun. He set the safety, stuffed it into the back of his jeans, made sure it was hidden by his jacket (which I had given back to him) and all four of us turned our eyes up towards the large hill from which this "Mount Zion" had gotten it's name.

My previous trembling had completely stopped and another Bible verse jumped forward from my memory. I looked at Marc and saw his eyes had turned towards the hill. Suddenly we looked at each other and I just knew we were thinking the same verse. The Lord was communicating to both of us the same truth from his Word. This "unity of Spirit" was occurring between us more and more as Marc and I had continued to pray and seek Jesus together as a team and not just as two individual Christians.

He gave me a faint smile and said simply, "Twenty-four, right?"

Yes. Psalm 24. We were thinking the same thing and that helped to calm my nerves and reassure me. Not just that I could have faith in Marc to hear and obey his Lord, but proof (again) that the Lord was, in fact, with us.

It didn't take us long to find what we were looking for. It had become a dark night and the light from a window showed up brightly to direct us to the only signs of life in this camp.
All four of us, Bert, Marc, myself and Sarah's mother Ginnette decided to stay together until the situation called for a different strategy. We were just about to "move out" (as Bert referred to it) when Ginnette whispered, "Shouldn't we pray or something?"

I stopped and looked at her. "Do you want to pray?"

" Yes. I do." she answered simply.

We all came together in a four person huddle, with our arms linked around each others' shoulders. Following Ginnette's lead, we bowed our heads when she did. I thought I would hear her lead us into prayer, but after a minute with my eyes closed and hearing no words I opened my eyes to peek and see what she was doing. Her eyes were squeezed tight shut and her lips were moving, but she wasn't saying anything out loud. I witnessed so many different emotions cross her face as she mouthed that silent but fervent prayer that it made me wonder at all she must be going through with her precious daughter missing and most probably in the hands of some very nasty people.

After another minute or two she suddenly lifted her head, opened her eyes, looked up at the three of us and said, "Amen. Right?", with just the hint of a smile.

The rest of us responded together, "Amen. Right!"

Even though we had prayed "quickly and quietly" I felt sure that in Heaven it had been heard as "loudly and bold".

We unlinked arms and started creeping towards the distant light that I estimated to be about one third of the way up the "Mount Zion" hill.
Before we got to our destination Marc and Bert (who had previously attended this camp several times when they were youths and it was in it's prime) confirmed that our destination, from where the light was emanating, was probably the building which had once been home to the camp's director.
We were almost there when Bert spotted a couple other vehicles that had also been "stashed" among some trees.  We all stayed put as Marc went on alone to see if he could look into the windows of the Director's Cottage.

He gave my hand a tight squeeze before letting go and jogging off in a crouching position to complete his task. The thought, "Hidden Dragon, Crouching Christian" came out of my mouth unbidden as he disappeared into the night and brought a chuckle from my two compadres. But as I saw the gun in the back of his pants reflect the moonlight, a wave of dread and nausea hit me when I thought what could happen if he was discovered.

This made me quickly turn to Ginnette and wonder what she was thinking with her daughter missing and all her worst fears and imaginings to torment her. I saw that she was actually chewing on her bottom lip and staring deep into the night with wide eyes.
But before I had the time to think anything more, Marc was back. He was sweating profusely but he had hope written all over his face.
He immediately turned to Ginnette and announced in an excited whisper, "I've spotted Sarah!"

Ginnette gave off a little noise which was a cross between a squeal of delight and the noise I once heard a 'Mama' cat make as she was giving birth to a kitten.
Marc wasted no time in filling us in. There were four people in the camp: The former high school basketball coach and another man Marc didn't know who seemed to be on some kind of sentry duty. Inside the cabin, Sarah was laying quietly on a bed in the back room, while Mr. Harker was pacing back and forth between the front and back rooms of the cabin.

 "I saw Sarah first when I looked into the bedroom window,"  Marc stated,  "and was going to just go in and get her, but then Harker suddenly came in. I didn't know if he was armed or how dangerous he would be so I just held my peace."

Then Marc turned slightly and addressed Ginnette directly. "She looks fine. Not hurt or anything. She has her eyes closed and is just laying on the bed and she has one of the bunnies with her. She seems to be sleeping. Harker came in and checked on her and then walked out again, but there's no door between the two rooms. I was afraid that if I woke Sarah to take her out it might alert Harker that I was there if she got scared and screamed or something. After all, she doesn't know who I am."

He stopped talking and took a deep breath as he looked around. But  turned to Ginnette again and added, "But, Praise the Lord, the window has no lock and there was even a small crate nearby that I was able to easily place beneath the outside of the bedroom window."

Again, I knew exactly what Marc was thinking. As he was catching his breath, more from excitement than any physical exertion, I continued for him. 
"Are you thinking that Ginnette go in and get Sarah, while we keep Harker distracted at the front of the building?"

"Exactly," he answered.
"What about the other two men?" I asked directly.

He said, "Well that depends on what we intend to do to distract Mr. Harker. But I was thinking I might just make the other two 'earn' their ill gotten money by taking them on a little tour of the woods hereabouts." His face split with a sly grin and with that hair of his, which I already mentioned is always tussled, I could suddenly imagine him doing something very similar years previously when he was a young boy scampering around this camp causing all sorts of mischief. Probably with Bert next to him back then too.

He caught me smiling at him and he winked back at me. I looked at Ginnette and even she was smiling at this. Suddenly Bert piped up excitedly, "What do I do? What do I do?"

Marc hit him on the shoulder and said, "You have to 'save the day' by going for the cavalry. You'll have to get into your truck and 'ride' for help. Do you think you can do that?"

Bert just saluted.

There didn't seem to be anything left to do or say. The plan was good. We each had a role to play and a path to follow. There was a certain amount of risk, but in order to get Sarah away from these men, the risk seemed small.

And so we all stood up from where we had been squatting and conferring. We did a spontaneous group hug and Ginnette said,
 "I don't know how I'll ever thank all of you."

There were tears on her cheeks, but she was actually remarkably calm and in control. More than most people would be if they were in her shoes.

"Thank us when we are all home safe and celebrating because your precious daughter is back in your arms again." I asserted.

Ginnette looked directly at me and whispered, but with much ardor,
 "Oh, and what a celebration that's 'gonna' be!"

LINK to Next Part # 14 "Plans and Pleas"



"FINALLY FINISHED: Church Lady P.I." from Laura-Lee Was Here Blog (COMPANION POST)

CHURCH LADY P.I.: Introduction





Copyright 2015 "The characters and events in this story are not meant to represent any persons living or dead and are entirely a product of the imagination of the writer." LR