Ch. 10
Sun. July 8, 2008
Hope
I gritted my teeth and tried not to cry as I pulled down the driveway. I soon gave up and let all the pent up emotions drain from me. My sobs filled the car for a long time. When I was able to take a deep breath and wipe the tears from my cheeks, I began to pray. At first I'm sure the Lord had a hard time figuring out my ramblings but I prayed my heart to him anyway.
Heading south down 281 was an easy drive, one I had made many times to visit Aunt Ruth both by myself, and with Philip and Grace. I wished I had had time to talk to Aunt Ruth. She was such a strong woman and so full of faith. I would have to try to call her tomorrow night but I couldn't possibly let her know anything was wrong or it could put her in danger. The miles passed quickly and I enjoyed the cool air from the air conditioner. I knew that once
I was buried in the sand I was going to be hot. Philip was right. I couldn't afford to become dehydrated. I stopped at a convenience store when I got to San Antonio and filled a bag with sandwiches for lunch and dinner and a six pack of Gatorade. Except for a fast pit stop, I wouldn't stop again.
When I arrived in Port Aransas I took the ferry across the bay, feeling sorry for the men and
women working traffic on the ferry landing. That was such a hot job. After I pulled up and set the emergency brake I got out to stretch. I envied a family I saw. The parents and children talked and laughed together. I saw three little girls with ponytails and sundresses. All I could do was pray for my child.
She had been gone for over 24 hours and who knew how Daniel was treating her? I couldn't let myself think of that. I had to keep my head. I took a deep breath of sea air and walked to the front of the ferry. As usual, the seagulls and dolphins were escorting us across. I remembered being a little girl and throwing bread to them. The sea air was so comforting and reminiscent of my childhood. I knew it would comfort me through the dark night ahead. I dreaded the quiet of the island when dark fell and all the happy young families had gone home.
When I got to the Port Aransas side I went straight to Buck's. Buck's was the water boat taxi that went to Carolina Key. I parked in the lot and went in. Willie, a slobbering basset hound, greeted me at the door. Willie had been at Buck's forever. I looked briefly around at the T shirts, flip flops, and seashells. I would need something to dig with and I selected a stout looking shovel. There were candy bars and sodas by the counter.
I paid for my ticket and shovel, then loaded my heavy sand bucket on the jetty boat. I covered the gold with a towel. I took a seat in the back and tried not to be conspicuous. Too few people would mean that I would stand out. I counted 12 others as we crowded together.
This was a safe number. I tried to ignore everyone and not encourage conversation. I turned my face into the wind and pulled down the baseball cap I wore with sunglasses. Surely my modest Bermuda shorts and T shirt would not cause anyone to notice me. We departed as soon as we pulled up at the dock. It was the only manmade thing on the island except for the huge granite boulders that came from Marble Falls, TX.
I purposely lagged behind and let everyone pass me. I knew I had to find a place up in the vines to dig my hole. I walked a little ways inward and found a natural depression. As I crawled down into it I looked around to see how visible I would be. All around me the wind was blowing and the sun was shining. I counted six fishermen and about 20 beach combers. I looked at my watch. It was 2:30. I would have two hours to dig my hole. I had to get to work.
I spent a few minutes trying to pray as I sucked down a bottle of Gatorade. The hot sand did
feel wonderful on my feet and I thought of all the times I had been here and the fun I had. I picked up my shovel and began digging. The hardest part was trying to keep the sides from caving in. It would take almost two hours and some achy muscles before
I would have it stable enough.
Finally, the hole looked big enough and I tested it, laying down and moving my legs back and forth. The key to success was to cover my body but still be able to breathe. I picked a few vines to put over my face. The last thing I did before I got into my hole was go into the water and soak myself. The water felt wonderful and I struggled not to cry. I felt so alone. How could this be happening to my daughter? Why her? I knew that I could not afford to break down now. I prayed earnestly for strength, then squared my shoulders and clambered down inside the hole. I placed the sand bucket under a towel as a makeshift pillow. Then I lay down and fought a moment of claustrophobia. I pulled the sand in on top of me, first my feet, legs, and body. I gathered the sand up to my neck and covered my hair. I placed the vines over my face and then wiggled my arms until they were covered. Now for a long wait. I tried to sleep and eventually dozed off only to wake with a jerk when I heard the loud shout of a toddler. I could hear the sounds of people packing up and calling to one another. At any other time it would have been
quite humorous.
"Lindy, I told you that fried chicken was going to be too rich for me. You know I get heartburn so easily these days," a man's voice said. I remembered this elderly man carrying his bag chair and
newspaper.
"Well, Fred, no one told you to go eat five pieces of the durn stuff!" was his wife's sharp retort.
Slowly, their voices faded and I listened, not daring to move. More and more people passed by. I heard the boat coming across the harbor. Then silence. It was now 4:30 and I would have to sit tight until the security guard came by at 5:30. I tried to sleep but it would not come. I tried not to think of Grace and Philip. I tried to think of where the gold could have come from and how Daniel discovered it. What would he do when he found out we had hidden the gold from him? Would he just hand her over without a fight? Had he really killed Shirley? Was it
possible it was someone else? If so, who? These questions swirled in my mind as I waited and waited.
Ch. 11
Sun. July 8, 2008
Philip
I looked at the screen of my phone and was dismayed to find Ken's number. "Hello, Ken?" I said.
"Hi, Philip. I was wondering how things are going?" he said.
"Just fine. I am out at the camp. I came to gather up Grace’s belongings. How are things with you?" I asked.
"Well, I'm a little confused at the moment. I called out to the airport this morning and was told that there were not any flights to Memphis today nor were there any connecting flights to Memphis," he said and let the silence span between us. I sighed. I waited for a moment trying desperately to think of what to do.
"I'll be right over and I expect some straight answers," Ken said. The line went dead.
I picked up the can of Mountain Dew. I looked at it and shook it. I heard a rattle. I dumped the can out in my hand and was surprised to find a gum wrapper. I opened it up. "Candace" was written in Grace's handwriting. Ok? I thought. Who is Candace and what does this mean? It was obviously a clue from Grace. I had to smile. She loved to read mystery novels and watch Cold Case files on tv. She was actually thinking of working for the police department as a dispatcher. She had talked to Ken a couple of months ago and had volunteered at our local 911 center and a rape crisis center.
I was frustrated but there was nothing more I could do here. Not with Ken on his way. I walked back up the stairs to the dining room. Susan and another girl were sitting at a table eating ice cream. She looked surprised to see me.
"Mr. Stephens are you still here?" she asked.
"I am meeting Officer Ken here just to tie up a few loose ends. I was wondering, though, can you tell me who Candace is?"
"Oh sure. She works in the infirmary. Why?" she asked.
"Are she and Grace very close?" I asked.
"I don't think so," she answered, sharing a strange look wit
h the other counselor.
"I just wondered. Well, I will see you girls later," I said and strode out of the building before having to answer any questions from overly curious young people. Well, that explained who Candace was. So, now someone else is involved, but why? Had Daniel taken Candace, too?
Ken was waiting for me by my truck in the parking lot. He took one look at my face and said
simply, "Well?"
I stared at him for a long time, knowing I needed help but resisting from fear. A scripture, long ago memorized at my mother's knee popped into my mind. “For God gave us not a spirit of fearfulness; but of power and love and discipline.” II Timothy 1:7.
"Daniel has Grace. Hope and I dug up the gold and she took it with her. She is hiding it in a
safe place. I plan to meet her when I find Grace."
Ken looked at me for a long time. "And you couldn't tell me this? Come on, man. I am your
brother in Christ. You kept this from me? Now Hope is out there all alone? Why didn't you want my help?" he sounded hurt.
"I was trying to be smart. He wants the gold. I felt like that was the only thing that I had that could keep Grace alive. I'm sorry." I sighed heavily, feeling the stress that had been building for hours now. Ken held out his hand. "Will you let me help you now?" he asked. I took his hand and shook it and nodded my head. "I'm just so confused. Why is all of this happening?" I asked.
"Let's go to your house. We need to talk and make some plans. I need to tell you what my investigators turned up on Daniel," he said.
The house was extremely quiet and I realized as I sank down at the dining table that I had never had lunch. We called for a delivered pizza and Ken called his wife to tell her he would meet her at the prayer service. She said that one of their twin boys had come down with a cold and she would not be able to make it.
"When one comes down with it they all will take it within the week," Ken joked. He and his wife Linda had four and eight year old boys and the twins were one. He waited until I had eaten and then he began to explain what his team had discovered about
Daniel. He laid a thick envelope on the table between us. "It's not good. Apparently he has been leading a double life. He was born in Waco to Stacy Johnson in 1990, father unknown. She was only 16 at the time. She married Ray Joseph when Daniel was four and he was placed in a foster home for the first time later that year. He lived in foster homes off and on until he was eight. Parental rights were revoked and he was adopted by the Fergusons. Ray Joseph is
now in jail for a burglary gone wrong that bought him 10 years in federal prison. No one knows what happened to Stacy Johnson. She became homeless after Daniel was adopted and no one has heard from her since. It's possible that they have had some contact but very unlikely." He looked up at me then and took off his glasses. "He's been in a gang. He has some ties to the Vietnamese Mafia. There was a gang in his old neighborhood. He's never served any time, except for one or two juvenile offences. The camp was aware of these but took him on anyway on the condition that his gang activity ceased. For all intents and purposes, since high school he has kept his nose clean."
"Ken, I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you. Last night, we were scared, we weren't thinking clearly, we didn't have much time to plan. We were going on gut instinct and that was to ensure Grace's safety the only way we knew how. It's 5:45. I promised Lance I would be at the prayer service. He needs all the support he can get. Can we go now and try to formulate a plan when we return?" I asked.
"Yes, of course. I just want you to know that I am here for you as long as it takes to bring your family back together," Ken said.
We left then and went to what was a very heartfelt service with many tears, lots of hugs and a
tremendous outpouring of affection for Lance and his family. We returned about 7:30 and began to plan a strategy. I had filled Ken in on all of the phone calls we had received. The cell number was always different each time he called.
"That tells me he is around other people, in a public location. It also means that Grace's chances of escaping are good. Since you have spoken to her it suggests that he is not leaving her on her own. What we need to do now is find out more about these coins. Where is Hope? How are you contacting her?" Ken asked.
"She went down to Port Aransas. She is burying the gold on Carolina Key. We have not had any contact since she left. The island doesn't have any satellite connection. She was spending the night there. I'm sure she will call me in the morning from Corpus Christi. I told her to stop there and get cash and supplies. Our plan was to hide out in Hot Springs, Arkansas. We have been there several times on vacation and she is familiar with the area. I didn't want her driving by herself somewhere she didn't know, so that's why we picked Hot Springs," I said.
"That's actually a very good plan. However, I don't want her to contact you directly after she gets settled in Hot Springs. It's too dangerous," Ken warned.
"You must find some alternative to a cell phone or land line. It's too easily traced," he said.
We spoke for an hour or so after that making plans and wondering how this had all happened and
wondering where to go from here. Ken left about 10:00 to get home to his family. He left me with a handshake and a prayer, confirming his commitment to stand by Hope and I until we got Grace back. He was a great comfort to me that night.
Ch. 12
5:00 p.m. Carolina Key
Sun. July 8, 2008
Hope
The heat made me feel drowsy and I slept off and on for the next hour or so. I longed to look
at my watch but I knew that it would be safer to remain hidden. I awoke with a start when I
heard the low rumble of the security guard’s 4 wheeler. I was suddenly filled with fear. What if
I were caught? How would I ever get Grace back? How different my emotions were now as opposed to when I was here as a carefree, young teenager. We had fought to keep our nervous giggles quiet.
I caught sight of the security guard out of the corner of my eye as he passed by, sand flying
out behind his wheels. He wore a florescent safety vest and a tan beach hat. He drove about half
way down the beach and made a big u turn and headed back to the dock. Not too concerned
about stowaways, I guess. I felt much better when I heard him slam the gate to the dock and lock it. I wiggled my legs a little bit to ease their cramping and longed to get up. I didn’t dare. There was still a good three to four hours of daylight left, but I could at least wiggle.
My arms were stiff and my feet had pins and needles. I fought another wave of claustrophobia so I removed the vines from my face.
Ah, I could breathe in some much needed fresh air. That helped. I tried to gather my thoughts. Surely I could think of some way to be productive in all this mess. I prayed for Philip. I wondered how he had spent his day. I prayed for Lance. He was going to be so lost without Shirley.
The hours until sunset passed slowly. I finally felt safe enough to uncover myself and creep in the darkness into the water to relieve myself. That Gatorade was good for keeping me hydrated but not good for my tiny bladder. I listened for boats. They would be the danger until morning. I uncovered my sandwich which had been mashed flat by me laying on it. For the first time in two days I was actually hungry. I wondered if Daniel was feeding Grace properly. I wondered if he had mistreated her. I prayed for her safety.
I knew I needed to rest but about midnight I could bear my restless heart no more and I ventured out for a walk. The waves crashing on the shore were soothing as was the quiet. Somehow I could make it until morning. There was little to do but wait. I slept fitfully, and when I did awake in the early morning hours, my eyes felt glued together. The sand and wind had made them sti
cky, red, and irritated. I couldn’t wait to wash my face in fresh, cold water.
The wind was up and had a damp chill to it.
The tricky part of my reemergence in society would be when the early beach combers came
on the 8:00 boat. I knew they would head immediately down the beach as fast as possible. They
would grab every sand dollar and star fish that had washed up overnight. I couldn’t afford to have any footprints seen on the shore. The overnight waves had washed away my footprints from my midnight walk.
I would have to time it just right. I couldn’t let anyone realize I wasn’t on the first boat. I
wondered about my car and if anyone had noticed it in the parking lot. There were usually plenty of cars parked overnight in that lot. I decided to stay put until the 8:30 boat arrived and I could try to blend in with them.
I needed some way of marking the hiding place for the gold, something that would not be washed away with the tide. The 8:00 a.m. boat was packed with 2 families of 5 and 7 senior citizens. This made me feel better. I would have no trouble blending in. The 8:30 boat was full as well and as soon as the first wave of beach combers passed me I began to wiggle out of my
confining hole. I tried to sit up casually and uncover my legs and feet. I had to sit for several minutes because my calves were asleep. Gradually the feeling came back and I was able to get up.
I arranged the sand bucket upside down over the gold and prayed for a moment thinking of Shirley. She had died because of Daniel’s greed for wealth. I thought of the scripture in Matthew 6:19, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust doth corrupt, and thieves break through and steal.” What a waste her death was! She was my friend and I would miss her greatly.
Sadly, I pushed the sand back over the hole and packed it down. I walked down the hill to the beach. Two women were walking towards me carrying bright colored bags over their shoulders. I bent over and searched for sand dollars.
“Good morning.” they greeted me. “Having any luck?” one asked. I nodded and smiled, but
kept quiet and turned away as soon as possible and walked into the water. It was freezing cold
but I was desperate to relieve my bladder. I took a deep breath and plunged under the surf.
When I came up my first thought was of Grace. Oh, if only I could swim to her right now.
I walked over to the dock and counted my paces to the hole. Straight from the dock it was 80 paces and left inland 50 paces. I would have to write this down as soon as I got to the car or I would never remember it. A sobering thought came to me. I should call Philip and let him know the coordinates in case something happened to me.
I got on the 9:00 boat back to Buck’s and eavesdropped on two women who were from
Austin. No one seemed to notice that I hadn’t been on an earlier boat. I ducked my head when I passed the captain of our little boat but he merely raised his coffee cup to his mouth and waved me aboard. I was relieved to have pulled it off. I was also very sleepy and hungry and ready for a cup of coffee.
It had only taken me a few minutes to bury the sand bucket filled with gold coins. I wondered what someone would think if their children dug it up? They would be shocked, of course. If it stayed undiscovered then we could always come back and get it once we had Grace back. For now, like Philip said, hiding the gold was the only way to ensure her safety. Right now I had only one goal and that was to get myself together and get some breakfast and
coffee. Then I would drive to Corpus Christi and stock up on supplies and get cash. I couldn’t
wait to get to my phone to call Philip.
Back safely at Buck’s with no one the wiser that I had stowed away all night, I was greeted by Willie. I gave him a pat and then made a bee line for the McDonald’s next door. I availed myself of their wonderful air conditioned bathroom and then slurped down a large latte. My hands still shook in fear every time I thought about Grace but I knew I needed to get through this. I was hungry and I forced down some breakfast noticing even at a time like this how
comforting a McDonald’s can smell.
The first thing I did when I reached my car was to charge my phone and check my voice mail
for messages. The drive to Corpus Christi was uneventful and the traffic was light. I was halfway there when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number and my heart began to pound as I quickly pulled to the shoulder. I didn’t trust myself to continue driving. I wanted to focus completely on this call. It was indeed, Daniel. He was very unhappy.
“Mrs. Stephens, this is Daniel. I thought you understood the plan. Do you not value your
daughter’s life? I thought you did. Was I wrong?” he asked.
“No, no Daniel. I want to cooperate and I don’t want Grace harmed but I know that if I give you the gold Grace may not have a chance. Please, please give her back to us. Please!” I struggled not to cry.
“I’m warning you, I’ve waited years to get to that gold. I need it! You’d better talk to your husband and get him to bring me the coins. Once he does, then I will decide what to do with Grace.” abruptly, the line went dead. I held the phone for several moments before I realized that this time he had not let me talk to Grace. I pulled into a roadside park to call Philip. He answered on the first ring. “Hi, honey,” I said.
“Hope, are you ok?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Everything worked out ok. No one saw me, at least as far as I could tell and I am halfway to Corpus. I just spoke with Daniel. He called on my cell. I didn’t even know he had this number,” I said.