His Saving Grace Page 17
Jack rang the doorbell.
Two minutes passed by his watch.
He rang the bell again.
A muffled, irritated-sounding shout came from inside.
The door swung open and Dunn in pajamas glared at Jack. “What the heck are you two doing ringing my doorbell at this hour—”
Jack shoved past Dunn and looked around the dimly lit house. “Where’s your computer?”
“What?” Dunn gawked at him.
“Your computer,” Jack demanded. “Where is it?”
“Upstairs in my office.” Dunn rubbed his forehead. “Do you have any idea what time—”
Jack ignored Dunn and darted up the staircase.
“Hey! My wife’s up there!” Dunn chased after Jack. “We’re all in bed for the night. Hold up.”
Jack topped the stairs.
“Stop!” Dunn roared.
Jack glimpsed the light under the first door at the top of the landing go out.
Mrs. Dunn, fastening a pale shiny robe around her slim form, met Jack in the upper hall. “What are you doing here?”
“What’s in that room?” Jack pointed to the closed room, which had suddenly gone dark.
“That’s my son’s room—” Dunn came up behind Jack. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Dunn, it’s about the hacker.” Cliff appeared at the top of the staircase, too.
Jack stepped forward. He twisted the doorknob and thrust open the door.
Sitting at a computer desk, Dunn’s preteen son glared at Jack by the light cast by the glowing monitor. “Hey, this is my room!”
Jack strode in and flipped on the wall light switch. There, beside the computer, was Dunn’s “token key,” a small rectangle with a liquid-crystal display that cycled an endless variety of combinations of four numbers every fifteen seconds. Numbers that had to be entered along with the password to gain access to Hope files.
Jack grabbed up the token key and swung around to Dunn. “Why did you give this to your son?” He shook the key in front of Dunn’s face. “You knew it was to be used by you alone.”
Dunn gaped at Jack.
Mrs. Dunn and Cliff clustered behind Dunn in the doorway.
“Well?” Jack prompted.
“I didn’t give it—” Dunn began.
“I took it!” The son’s jaw jutted belligerently. “I’m the hacker.” The boy barked a dry, cheerless laugh. “Took you long enough to find me, big shot.”
Jack heard Mrs. Dunn gasp.
“Damon, no!” she exclaimed. “You’re making that up.”
“No, I’m not! I did it.” The thin kid with spiked hair wearing summer pajamas folded his arms over his thin chest. “Dad says I can’t do anything—”
“Stop lying, Damon,” his mother pleaded. “They might believe you.”
“Listen to your mother, boy.” Dunn shouldered past Jack. “You, the hacker? Make me laugh. You couldn’t do it. You don’t have the brains. You—”
“Just because I don’t get good grades, doesn’t mean I’m dumb,” Damon retorted. “I outsmarted Mr. Computer Nerd here!”
“Yeah, right,” Dunn sneered. “You outsmarted our very experienced, very expensive computer expert—”
“I started by adding zeros—’cause you said I was just a zero.” The son’s tone matched the father’s, dripping sarcasm and disrespect. “Then, ’cause you’re so cheap, I decided to give everyone raises—”
“Dunn,” Jack cut in, “now that I know where the attack came from, I can trace your computer and prove it was the one used in compromising the Hope system. But I don’t have to. He’s got your token key in hand. That’s proof enough.”
Everyone fell silent—the four of them standing around the boy at the computer desk. In the leaden silence, Jack heard the air conditioner whine as it cycled on.
Then Mrs. Dunn began to sob. “I told you to spend more time with Damon. I told you something was going on with him. Why don’t you listen to me?”
Dunn rounded on her. “I have work to do. He’s past the age where I should have to be around holding his hand. You want me to bring home the big bucks? Well, I have to work long hours to do that.”
“Who wants you around more anyway?” Damon sneered.
Jack eased backward. Solving the mystery had excited him. But he hadn’t considered the effect of his unmasking the Dunns’ son as the hacker.
“I don’t need you here—” Damon’s voice rose as he verbally attacked his father “—watching me, telling me what to do. I don’t need you.”
This last sentence—so bitter, so acidic—echoed through Jack. His memory summoned up a scene. He was standing outside his mother’s back door, shouting at his dad, “Go on and leave. I don’t need you!”
His heart raced, making him a little nauseated. He glanced over his shoulder at his dad. I don’t want to see myself in this situation. This has nothing to do with me and my dad.
Cliff’s face looked frozen in a deep frown. He motioned for Jack to fall back.
Jack obeyed, leaving the mother, father and son alone in the room.
What would happen now? The kid was a minor, but he’d broken laws, caused all kinds of expense—stuff the kid hadn’t even considered. He’d just tried to get his dad’s attention. In the worst possible way.
With a hand on Jack’s sleeve, Cliff led him farther down the hall. “I think we should leave.”
Jack didn’t know what was best to do and really, the present dilemma wasn’t occupying him.
In the dark hall, recollection after recollection poured through his mind—scenes of Cliff slowly, painfully moving away from him when he was in high school, basketball games Cliff never showed up for, the evenings Jack had shot baskets alone in the drive while his dad worked late.
And then scenes where Jack rejected his dad. The anguish and anger roiled back as potent as they had been years before, now rubbing Jack raw inside. “Okay,” he managed to mumble.
They shuffled down the stairs side by side and quietly let themselves out. Without exchanging a word, they got back into the car and Jack drove off.
The silence lasted until Jack pulled up in front of the Hope financial offices building.
Jack kept his eyes forward, looking at the pattern of lights on the building. No words came to him except the ones he didn’t want to say.
Silence.
“I know we had to find out who was doing this,” Cliff finally said. “It was too serious to ignore, but I feel awful for the Dunns.”
Jack nodded, his tortured stomach doing a free fall.
“Well, I guess I’ll get home.” Cliff reached for the door handle.
“Dad—” Gripping the steering wheel, Jack turned to him. “I’m sorry…”
In the glow of the nearby streetlight, Cliff froze, looking back at Jack. Finally, he asked, “You mean about how you treated Gloria?”
“Yes.” And for a lot more. “It won’t happen again.” Jack felt a little sick, as though he’d been running and was dehydrated. “I’d like to make it up to her…and you.”
A pause.
“Good.” Cliff cleared his throat. “Good. I’d like that, so would Gloria.”
Able to loosen his hold on the wheel, Jack offered Dad his hand. “Thanks.”
Cliff accepted his hand and shook it. “Good.”
Healing flowed through Jack, warm and freeing. He took a deep breath.
Then Cliff closed the door. Through the open window, he said, “Call me and we’ll make another date.”
“I will.” Jack’s pulse still pounded in the aftermath of this exchange.
“Good night, Son.”
“Good night, Dad.”
Jack drove straight to Gracie’s house and parked in the alley by Mike’s garage.
Her neighborhood was quiet and dark, but Jack had to speak to Gracie. Make things right.
Getting out, he recalled their parting conversation last night. “You don’t get it, Jack,” Gracie had said. Lord, I
get it now. Help me prove that to Gracie.
I love her.
He ran to her back door and knocked—hard. He waited. Mosquitoes buzzed his ear and he swatted them away. Finally, the back light was switched on and Gracie drew aside the little curtain to peer at him through the high back door window.
She unlocked the door and opened it a wedge. “It’s after midnight,” she whispered in a what-are-you-nuts? tone. “What do you—”
“I caught the hacker.”
She opened the door and let him in. She was dressed in rumpled shorts and T-shirt.
Her hair was tousled and Jack had the undeniable urge to kiss her. He pulled her to him, pressing his face next to hers. “Forgive me, Gracie.” He kissed her.
For a moment, she relaxed against him, joining in the kiss. Then abruptly, she pushed him away. “Why are you kissing me?”
He let her go. “I was wrong.” He raked his hands through his hair. “But I finally got it tonight.”
“Got it? Got what?”
“Remember? Last night you said I didn’t get it but you did. Tonight, I got it.”
She motioned him toward the worn wicker furniture on the screened-in back porch. She sat down on a porch swing. “Start at the beginning. Where did you go tonight when you left me? You said—”
“My dad had been called about something happening to the files at the Hope financial center.” Jack sank down beside her. The swing swayed under him. He fought the urge to forgo explanations and just kiss her again. Sitting on the unstable swing reminded him just how he felt about persuading Gracie to love him.
“What did Cliff want?”
“Cliff called me and then stood guard so no one would tamper with them.”
She nodded. “Go on.”
Gracie, can’t we stop talking? I want to kiss you again. “Anyway, while we were looking at the files,” Jack explained, trying to get it over with, “I saw the hacker enter the system and I immediately saw the password he used.”
She drew in breath. “Who was it?”
Gracie, just let me hold you. “It was Dunn’s password. Remember him? We went to his pool party.”
“Yes, but Dr. Dunn? I don’t get it.”
“My dad and I took off for his place—”
“Why would Dr. Dunn tamper with files?” she interrupted.
He rushed to clarify. “It wasn’t Dunn. I found his son using his token key.”
“His son? How awful.” Gracie’s voice sank.
Her instant sympathy moved him and he sat closer to her. The swing shifted under him again. “It was bad. The kid…name’s Damon…said he did it to show his dad he was smart, even if he didn’t get good grades. It was an ugly scene. Everyone was mad, but I saw it all…finally.”
“What did you see, Jack?” Gracie leaned toward him, her head cocked.
“I saw myself in that kid. He was willing to cause all kinds of chaos—just because he was angry with his dad.”
“Well, after meeting Dr. Dunn,” she said, “I can imagine the kind of father he is.”
“Yeah, the kid was so resentful, so angry.”
Silence.
“Gracie, when we talked last night, you wanted me to make up with my dad. When I went there tonight…” He looked to her. Help me put it into words, Gracie.
“I understand.” She slid forward till her knee touched his, the swing rocking gently under them. “You’ve been angry with your dad a long time. Finally, now, you saw that you were still acting like this kid. Your dad did wrong, but that doesn’t mean it should wreck your relationship with him forever.”
“Or with you.” He took the plunge and wrapped his arms around her softness. He clung to her as the swing swayed back and forth. “You’re right. I’ve buried my head in my work and pushed away practically everyone else—even you.” His mother’s words came back to him, “Gracie’s in love with you.”
“Do you love me, Gracie?”
She withdrew from him.
“I said that wrong, I know. Wait.” He rolled words around in his mind. He paused, trying to sort out what he was feeling, thinking—groping for words. “I’m no good at saying things, you know that. You always help me—”
“You have to say this, Jack. I can’t say it for you.” She pushed against the floor with her bare foot and the swing moved forward and back.
“Will you give us a chance?” Jack stopped the swing by putting his foot down. “I’ve pushed everyone away because of my resentment toward my dad. But I can’t lose you, Gracie. I think I’m in love with you.”
She opened her arms.
He moved into them and rested his cheek against hers. “Oh, Gracie.” He drew her closer against him in rhythm with the swing.
“I never thought you’d love me,” she whispered. “I’m not special like Annie—”
“Don’t ever say that again.” He pulled her head back to look her directly in the eyes. “You are the most wonderful woman in the world. And anyone who argues with that, even you, will get an argument from me.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Then, I know you truly love me, Jack.” She kissed him.
He responded in kind, a long sweet exchange.
When their lips parted at last, more words, important words came to him. “You are special, Gracie.” He made the swing sway gently. “It’s not just because I love you. It’s true. Just ask anyone who knows you. Gracie, you’re one in a million. If you love me, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
Gracie leaned against him, her joy flowing with sweet tears. “I love you, Jack. Forever.”
“Forever,” he agreed. Lord, help me make her happy.
Epilogue
Mike, in a black suit, and Sandy, in a silvery party dress, held hands at the front of the small chapel. The glass-covered candles at each window along the sides of the room were decorated with sprigs of holly and purple advent ribbon to reflect Christmas, only ten days away.
Only family and close friends had been invited to the intimate wedding. These included Annie and Troy, who were back together, and Gloria and Cliff, who were planning a spring wedding. Mr. Pulaski had walked the bride up the aisle. Jack stood beside Mike as his best man. Gracie, as maid of honor, held Sandy’s red rose bridal bouquet.
As the minister directed the exchanging of rings, Gracie gazed across at Jack, so handsome in his black suit. Their wedding would be a winter one also. But they had put it off until Valentine’s Day.
As she heard her dad say “With this ring, I thee wed,” her heart swelled with love for him, for Sandy, for her mother who must be smiling down on them from heaven, and for Jack. My beloved.
Tears misted Gracie’s eyes.
Then footsteps pattered up behind her. She glanced down to see Austin and Andy, in their first suits, pushing in front.
“We wanna see the rings,” Austin said in a quiet, awed voice.
“Yeah,” Andy agreed, “everybody’s in our way.”
Muted chuckles rippled through the wedding guests. Gracie heard Annie moan with embarrassment. But Mike and Sandy showed the boys the rings. Then Jack reached for the boys and pulled them to stand by him.
He would never make the mistakes that Cliff and Dr. Dunn had with their sons. Jack stroked Andy’s blond hair and laid a hand on Austin’s shoulder.
Gracie’s heart turned over. Thank you, Father. All good gifts do come from above.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0716-5
HIS SAVING GRACE
Copyright © 2004 by Lyn Cote
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no
relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.
® and TM are trademarks of Steeple Hill Books, used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Visit us at www.steeplehill.com
*Sisters of the Heart