CHAPTER 2
Daniel hurled the branch toward the two witnesses; it landed 20 feet away from them. They stood regally, gazing at him with impassive expressions. “You’re dead men!” he hollered. “You’re going to die, both of you! How dare you, telling us that this--this--Jesus--this impostor--is our Messiah?! I won’t have it; I won’t!” He shook his fist at them.
A hand on his arm startled him; he turned around to see a young woman with long, luxuriant reddish-brown hair and a slim figure standing next to him. Caring and compassion radiated in her eyes; pearl earrings dangled from her earlobes; a couple of beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. “Who--who--?” Daniel sputtered.
“Daniel Rosen?” the woman asked, speaking with an Irish accent. Biting back a sharp retort, he nodded. “My name is Monica. I noticed you dropped your wallet back there.” She held it out to him.
Emitting a deep sigh, Daniel grasped the wallet. “Thank you,” he said, shoving it in his back pocket. “It must have slipped out of my back pocket when I wasn’t looking.” He realigned the folded prayer shawl, which had slipped into an askew position on his upper arm, and re-draped it over his shoulder. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pants pocket, he wiped his forehead, then offered the handkerchief to Monica, who wiped hers.
The Dalys and the Whittakers pushed through the crowd toward them; with a delighted squeal, Christina rushed toward Monica. “Monica! So good to see you.”
“It sure is.” Stepping forward, Richard gaped at her, disbelief in his eyes. “I thought it’d surely be a long time before any of us saw you again. Any of you.” Ryan and Kristen chuckled delightedly; Richard rubbed his hair, front to back.
Standing behind Monica, Daniel saw Ryan and Richard exchange knowing looks and nods. Monica looked back at him and smiled. “I thought I’d visit the Temple Mount while I was here. I’m visiting Israel, too, along with my friends.”
Stepping alongside of her, Daniel smiled wryly. “And I suppose you want someone to explain the sites to you.” Monica nodded. “Well, I’m not a resident here, but I have studied something about my own people, so I’ll share what I can.”
As the group left the crowd, their shoes thudding in the grass, a heavy-set African-American woman stopped before them, a tour guide book in her right hand and a diamond brooch sparkling on her chest in the sunlight. “Excuse me, but you look like tourists.” She gave Richard and Ryan, then Rachel, warning looks; the three nodded. “Perhaps I could show you around.” She lifted her head back slightly as she spoke.
Christina and Richard exchanged smiles and glances. “We’d like that very much. There’s so much about this city we still don’t know,” Christina said. Ryan and Kristen nodded agreement; Rachel smiled. Christina straightened her blouse, then wiped her forehead again.
The woman nodded. “My name is Tess, and I’m working as a tour guide here. Come with me, and I’ll show you around.” She led the group toward the parking lot, where a red Cadillac convertible stood next to a 4-door sedan Richard had rented.
For the next several hours, Tess showed the tourists and Monica several of the sites of Jerusalem. They visited the Mount of Olives and several other popular sites, while Tess explained the history of each. With effort, Daniel listened to Tess’s descriptions, and attempted to explain what he knew of the religious meaning of the tourist sites and their significance to Jews. All the while, he yearned to get back to his hotel room, to plan the murder of Moishe and Eli. Repeatedly, he gazed admiringly at Rachel. He couldn’t believe how much like his late daughter she was!
I also can’t believe how quickly it gets hot, he thought, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. I’ll be glad to get back to my air-conditioned hotel room! He glanced at his watch. If he was going to carry out his plans, he needed to get away soon!
When Daniel finally returned to the hotel with the others, he slammed the door behind him as he entered his room. For a long moment, he rested his forehead against the cool windowpane, gazing at the street below. Cars sped up and down its lanes, and pedestrians thronged the sidewalks on both sides.
All he could think about, at that moment, was his daughter, Heather. She and Rachel were so much alike! During the tour, Rachel had talked about the books she liked to read, and the rhinestone jewelry her adoptive mother had bought for her at Wal-Mart. Heather had enjoyed the same interests.
Daniel bit his lower lip. With both his wife and his daughter dead, and his best friends among the missing, his life was so empty! Another child would certainly help, and who better than a girl like Rachel? If he could have had his way, Rachel would be his adoptive daughter, not the Dalys’. She would make such a good substitute for Heather.
With a sigh, he trudged toward his bed, opened his suitcase and drew out a photograph. A smiling Heather gazed back at him, teeth gleaming, blue eyes shining. He sank onto the bed’s soft bedspread; its mattress sagged and creaked as her perched on its edge. For a long moment, he gazed down at his daughter’s portrait, then pressed his index finger against his lips and touched its tip against Heather’s forehead.
“I miss you so much, honey,” he said softly. “I wish I had a chance to tell you that now. I was so disappointed at your conversion to Christianity--and I still am--but I never stopped loving you.” He sighed.
Old memories surged into his brain…Heather lying on her bed, legs up in the air, munching on an apple while she read a book…the evenings she spent with Joey Machulis, cooking or playing games, while Daniel and Joey's older brother, Wayne, played their own game of checkers…and the night--the dreadful night--when Heather had confessed to her father that she had received Jesus into her heart. “Jesus is our Messiah, Daddy,” she had told him. “He really is; I know it!”
Daniel bit his lower lip. He had shouted at his daughter, telling her that she had brought him shame and that he would not have the Christian faith in his house. After minutes of trying to reason with him, Heather had fled to her room, crying. Daniel sighed at the memory.
“I wish, to this day, that you had never done that, Heather,” he told the photograph. “But I never stopped loving you, and I still miss you so. No one can ever really take your place, honey.” He raised his head to look at the door. “But maybe Rachel will help. I can surely persuade her to live with me. I’ve just got to take her to live with me in Ascension.” He paused. “You would have liked her, Heather. She is so much like you. She has the same sweet nature you had, and she has your love of books. Your love of jewelry, too. Only difference is, she’s not a Jew, but I can live with that.”
He glanced at his watch. He needed to visit the empty warehouse he’d rented the morning before. It would be perfect for both of his purposes.
“I’ll see about taking Rachel first,” he muttered. “Then I’ll see what I can do about killing Moishe and Eli! They’ve offended us Jews too long with their preaching.”
A knock on the door startled him. I hope I didn’t talk too loudly! he thought. If anyone heard me, I’m in trouble!
He opened the door; a man with sandy-brown hair framed the entrance. “Mr. Rosen?” he asked. Daniel nodded. “My name is Andrew. Forgive me for disturbing you, but some tourists asked me to extend you an invitation to have dinner with them, and with some friends of theirs, tonight.”
Daniel thrust his hands into his jeans pockets. "Who are they?"
"Richard Daly and Ryan Whittaker." Andrew shifted position. "And their families. You met them, this morning."
Daniel relaxed. “Please tell them I’ll be pleased to accept.” Andrew smiled, then left.
After the door clicked shut behind him, Daniel leaned against it. He had some shopping to do, before he went downstairs to the dining room.
END OF CHAPTER 2