Tides of Truth [03] Greater Love by Robert Whitlow Read Free Book Online Page A

there’s no use fighting it,” she said. “If I don’t get to bed in a few minutes, I won’t trust myself to climb the stairs.”
    “I’ll let Flip outside for you. Where should I sleep?”
    “Gracie cleaned your room for you.”
    Flip obediently followed me to the veranda then pattered down a winding wrought-iron staircase to the formal garden. After sniffing around for a few minutes, he climbed the steps in short hops then ran upstairs to Mrs. Fairmont’s room. I carried my suitcase downstairs.
    Mrs. Fairmont’s home was three stories in the rear. My bedroom was in a garden apartment that looked out into the garden where Flip had been minutes before. A dog bed surrounded by chew toys lay in the middle of the living area, evidence that Flip had been temporarily banished to the basement room during social events. I crossed the small living area into a bedroom with French double doors that opened onto a brick patio. Gracie had turned back the freshly laundered sheets and placed a small chocolate on my pillow. Moonlight shone in through the double doors.
    Beside the bed was an intercom connected to Mrs. Fairmont’s room. It had been installed by Mrs. Bartlett to make sure I could keep tabs on her mother. I pressed the button.
    “Good night, Mrs. Fairmont. Everything downstairs is perfect. Thanks again for letting me stay with you.”
    I waited. In a few seconds there was a scratchy reply.
    “Good night, Tami. I love you.”
    I smiled and pressed the Send button. “I love you, too.”

4
    J ESSIE OPENED HER EYES TO THE SOUND OF STRANGE VOICES. S HE jerked her head up. The wooden pallet was surrounded by six brownskinned men with straight black hair. One of them was holding a pine branch he’d used to poke her in the stomach. The men began to speak rapidly in a language Jessie took to be Spanish. Jessie started to jump up and run, but the man with the stick put a rough hand on her shoulder, pushed her back, and shook his head. The other men crowded closer around her, creating a thick-legged wall.
    Past the men was a pickup covered with red dust from the dirt road. Jessie could barely make out a faded sign on the side of the truck that read Polk Brothers Lumber Co. Two chain saws were on the ground beside the truck bed. The men continued gesturing and talking. The one with the stick spoke directly to Jessie, who shook her head. A smaller man to her right stepped forward. He bowed his head slightly then smiled, revealing two rows of white teeth. The smile didn’t look menacing.
    “You from Hinesville?”
    Jessie had heard of the town but shook her head.
    “Bainbridge?”
    Jessie shook her head. That was too close to where she’d been.
    “Savannah?”
    Jessie had been to Savannah once with her stepmother. They’d found a place to stay for a few days in a battered women’s shelter. It had been one of the nicer refuges during a difficult time.
    “Yes.” Jessie nodded her head.
    “Sí, sí.” The man smiled and explained to the others in lengthy terms what he’d discovered.
    The man with the stick pointed at Jessie and spoke rapidly. She started to get up, but the man held out his hand in clear indication she was not going to be allowed to walk away. The smaller man spoke.
    “You go to Savannah.”
    Another man held out his hand and gave her the most beautiful bottle of clear, clean water Jessie had ever seen. She rapidly unscrewed the cap and took a long drink of the delicious liquid. Wiping her mouth, she took another drink while the six men watched in silence. Then the man with the stick spoke again. The others nodded in agreement. Apparently, they’d learned more about her by watching her drink.
    “Hungry?” the smaller man asked, pointing to his stomach.
    Jessie nodded.
    The smaller man spoke to the others. The man who’d given her the water jogged over to the truck and returned with a can of beans and wieners and a plastic spoon. The smaller man pulled a knife from his pocket and used a can opener