CHAPTER 8

NORA MEDORA DRIVING HOME

The corners of Nora’s mouth curled into a sly smile as she recalled Destiny’s surprised expression after she asked her to be her maid of honor. Then she full on grinned remembering Destiny’s shocked expression after she not only kissed her cheek, but gave it a quick lick.

Nora loved to play head games. But sometimes they messed with her own head as well. Destiny and Brock were a case in point. She disliked Destiny for the simple reason that Brock was fond of Destiny. She also knew way more than she let on about the pair’s association with each other.

She had already known that Brock had saved her life. She had also known that he followed her via the internet for years. Brock wasn’t really into porn before becoming a Christian, but he sure kept up with Destiny’s work. Not that you could call porn work or art. It was adult entertainment, period.

She felt a wave of anxiety at the thought of marrying Brock. Did she love him? She didn’t see herself capable of loving anyone or anything apart from her calling to rid the world of evil. Yes, she believed in a higher power, just not the God of the Bible that Brock adhered to. This two thousand year old book that was now interfering with the nice arrangement she had.

Years of intimate stimulation with him made her confused regarding the only man she had ever had a personal relationship with. Why did he have to change? What was wrong with their friends with benefits arrangement? Most guys would love to have a hot lady whose primary interest was sexual. No flowers, no cards, no gifts of jewelry.

She had no romantic expectations. Just two things she wanted. There was little hunting games and sex. She did like their occasional shop talk, yet she realized it was usually her expounding about work, and rarely, if ever, Brock. She hated the fact that she wanted him so badly. She also hated that she was losing control over him.

She grimaced as she realized that she had likely coerced Brock into bed for the last time without the bonds of matrimony. She knew if he was baptized, she wouldn’t be in the sack with him again until they were… She swallowed a lump in her throat… Married!

But this Jezebel Black thing might, at least, postpone their nuptials. She felt a twinge of guilt. For it was her doings that sent Jezebel on the war path. Months previously, she had discovered Jezebel was living in Des Moines. She had relocated there a few years earlier because the satanic cult she belonged to was based there.

Nora had discovered the cult was suspected to be involved in numerous illegal activities. Mainly drugs in a partnership with an outlaw motorcycle gang, as well as street gangs from Chicago, Kansas City, and the Twin Cities. Nora had talked her superiors into going undercover and joining the cult. It wasn’t easy.

But Jezebel preferred women to men when it came to intimacy. Nora had never actually had sex when going undercover before. Not even as a vice detective in Miami. But this case was a huge, international drug running and distribution. The fastest way to infiltrate the cult and to save lives was to become Jezebel’s lover. She had broken a personal rule by doing so.

How would Brock react if he found out she was responsible for putting Destiny and him in harm’s way? But wasn’t she herself in greater danger? What would Brock think if he knew she had not only joined Jezebel’s cult, but she had become her lover? She drew in a deep breath, sighed heavily, and then nodded with satisfaction as she thought to herself about her first duty, her job. The end justifies the means was her golden rule.

BROCK

“Would you marry Nora and me?” I asked Captain Kirk.

He arose from the flower bed that he had been weeding at the church. Captain Kirk preferred it to be called the fellowship barn, though. The original members of Cotton Creek Cove began at a small church building in downtown Cedar Rapids. When they began to outgrow the facility in the early 1990s, Captain Kirk and a few elder members renovated a barn into a church out in the country a few miles west of the city. Captain Kirk made an old-fashioned sign out of old barn boards with the name of the new facility, Cotton Creek Cove Fellowship Barn. Those five words were followed by Matthew 18:20.

Captain Kirk regarded me with intense blue eyes hooded by a thick white brow. Those eyes had gazed upon countless tormented souls that he ministered to as a young army chaplain during Vietnam as well as the war’s aftermath. He stroked his long, white beard and not for the first time reminded me of a biblical patriarch, like Moses or Noah.

“Is Miss Medora a believer?” Captain Kirk wanted to know as he brushed dark speckles of dirt from his long, white beard.

I cleared my throat. “No, sir. Not like us, anyway.”

“You know the Bible instructs us to not be yoked to non-believers,” he petitioned.

“I do,” I replied. “Here’s the thing, though. She and I have been together for six years. In our own way, we are sort of common law married already, although we have never actually lived together. In a nutshell, I told her that I became a Christian and we either needed to end our intimate relationship or get married. She then agreed to marry me.”

“Fair enough. Out of respect for you and your judgment, I’ll marry you,” Captain Kirk said as he nodded. “When?”

“How about Sabbath afternoon?” I inquired.

His furry, white caterpillar eyebrows shot up and I chuckled inwardly.

“Well, you’re certainly not wasting any time,” Captain Kirk said, stroking his beard again. “That’s only three days away. You’re not trying to get it over with before you get cold feet, are you?”

“No,” I replied, feeling a little embarrassed by what I was about to share with my pastor. “You know how the apostle Paul suggested that if we couldn’t be celibate, we should marry?”

“So you don’t think you can contain?” Captain Kirk asked with a sly grin.

I cleared my throat again. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Can I make one suggestion?” Pastor asked. “Have you considered Destiny?”

“Oh, I’ve considered her, Sir.”

“And?”

“Well, like I was trying to say. Nora and I are already in a sort of committed relationship. Plus we both have our dangerous occupational backgrounds in common.”

“And you and Dee have spiritual interests in common,” he replied.

“Besides Nora not being a Sabbath keeping Christian, you just plain don’t like her.”

“I don’t,” Captain Kirk, never one to gloss over truth admitted. “Look, call it woman’s intuition.”

“Excuse me?” I replied with raised eyebrows.

Captain Kirk chuckled. “The Mrs. actually has even stronger reservations about you two than I do.”

I sighed and crossed my arms. Was I making a wise decision marrying Nora?

“Look, just make sure you’re not doing anything hasty,” The good Captain and Pastor instructed as he touched my arm. “And don’t let your loins help make your decision.”

“But that’s a part of it. Why even get married if sex isn’t involved?”

“My point is the rest should be in harmony. Compatibility, communication, love. Sex is the icing on the cake, so to speak.”

I nodded. “Thanks Pastor. You will marry us though?”

“If that’s your wish.”

I helped the pastor weed the flower beds. Then he mowed while I weed whipped. I’ve found that manual labor can be therapeutic. My mind kept going over Mary Gold’s dream and Destiny’s situation. If Mary Gold said that the angelic being told Destiny to seek my protection, I needed to protect her. I shouldn’t even be helping the Pastor here until I knew more of what’s going on.

Another big concern was actually the harmony between my future wife, and my what? What was Destiny to me? My friend? Sister in Christ? Although Nora suggested it herself, Destiny living temporarily in my house was not going to sit well with my fiancée.

When I finished helping Captain Kirk maintain the church landscape, I retired to my car and retrieved my cell phone. I prepared to call the Weston household when I noticed a missed call from not quite ten minutes earlier. It was from Jake Weston, Mary Gold’s husband.

“Brock, how you doing?” Jake asked when I returned his call.

“Not bad, you?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Funny you should call,” I told him. “I was about to call your wife to see if she could talk to me about the dream she had regarding Destiny.”

“Funny once again,” Jake chuckled uneasily. “I was calling you to let you know that Mary had another dream about Destiny… And you.”

“Really, when?”

“This afternoon,” Jake replied. “Here’s the thing, Brock. Mary rarely naps. And even rarer still, she seldom has a second, for lack of a better word, prophetic dream. About the same person, that is.”

“Do you mind if I come over?”

“Of course not. I was hoping you could.”

Twenty minutes later I pulled into the Weston’s twelve-acre hobby farm. I was greeted by their old, but still feisty and playful, German Shepherd named Sassy. Jake came out of their modest ranch house still wearing his brown UPS uniform. He was followed by his lovely wife, Mary Gold. She was wearing faded blue jeans tucked into worn, brown cowboy boots and a pink T-shirt that said “Life is Good” in light blue lettering. Jake shook my hand and Mary Gold gave me a quick hug. They offered me a beverage, and I requested water. Jake suggested that we go sit on the deck.

“It was really weird,” Mary Gold told me. “The only time I ever nap is if some type of emergency or urgent matter has kept me up through the night. So I went for a little horseback ride this afternoon and felt great, full of energy. When I got done, I read some scripture and prayed. I prayed specifically for Destiny and her wellbeing, and for you, too, Brock. When I finished, I was overcome by a powerful weariness. I tried to fight it. But I just couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I lay down in the hammock.”

“I love to nap myself,” Jake said, as if to explain why they have a hammock when Mary Gold acknowledged that she rarely naps.

“I had a dream again that Destiny was in trouble. Have I ever told you about the dreams where I’m visited by an angelic being named Mayquinn?”

“Yes, you’ve told me,” I replied. “Destiny mentioned it the other night, too.”

“Well, he was in my dream this afternoon with another message,” Mary Gold said, shrugging meekly. “The majestic presence mentioned you by name this time. I was told you are to keep Destiny with constant diligence, beginning before the sky darkens into an inky black she-devil. You are to watch Destiny until the reed is broken. One more thing. Beware of the husband slayer, even though she’s necessary to break the reed.”

“So it seems that there are three parts,” Jake said. “Diligently watching Destiny is obviously one.”

“Malcom Reed would be two,” Mary Gold said. “But what could husband slayer possibly mean?”

“I can answer that,” I said, feeling my lips curl into an icy smile. “Nora Medora.”

“Your lady friend?” Mary Gold asked.

“Actually, fiancée,” I replied.

“What? When?” Jake demanded. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“It came about the other day. This is the first I’ve seen you guys since.”

“So, when’s the big day?” Mary Gold asked with a pleasant, yet concerned, smile.

“Well, we’re partially eloping,” I told them. “Just a small affair. As a matter of fact, I went to see Captain Kirk before I came here to see if he would do us the honor of presiding over our nuptials.”

“Enough with the fancy words, big fella. When?” Jake wanted to know.

“This Saturday afternoon,” I replied.

“What?” Jake yelled, shooting off of his chair like it was an ejection seat on a jet fighter. “This Sabbath?”

“By the way, would you be my best man?” I asked him.

“I’d be honored,” Jake said, smiling broadly as he took my right hand with both of his. “Congratulations.”

“Is she a believer now?” Mary Gold asked.

“Ah, no, not really,” I replied, scratching the back of my head and wincing.

“I see,” Mary Gold said with concerned eyes.

I told them about the warning Captain Kirk gave me and my explanation.

Mary Gold and Jake both nodded as my phone chimed. It was Destiny.

“Brock, I’m really freaked out!” Destiny blurted when I had barely begun to greet her.

“What’s up? Where are you?” I asked as my body seemed to go rigid with electric current.

“I’m at a grocery store, and I’m being stalked by Jezebel Black,” she replied shakily.

“What is Jezebel doing in Cedar Rapids?” I muttered.

“She said an old friend of mine wanted her to look me up. Apparently she lives somewhere close.”

“You talked to her?”

“She came up and talked to me when I was comparing apples.”

“Where are you now?”

“Still at Hy Vee in the food court area.”

“Where’s Jezebel?”

“Across the entrance, having a coffee and watching me.”

“Stay where you are,” I instructed. “I’m at the Weston’s right now, so I’ll be there in fifteen to twenty minutes. Okay?”

“Okay,” she croaked.

“Dee, you’ll be fine. You’re in a very public place. Just stay where you’re at.”

“Okay,” she mustered with a little more confidence.

Mary Gold and Jake were staring at me with worried looks on their faces.

“There’s a fourth element to your dream,” I said. “The inky black she devil is a woman named Jezebel Black. I think she’s setting up Destiny for Malcolm Reed. She’s stalking Destiny at Hy Vee as we speak, so I gotta go.”

“Do you want me to come?” Jake asked.

“Thanks, Jake, but I’ve got this,” I said over my shoulder as I jogged to my Mustang, thankful for Godly, helpful friends.

It had been a year since I had played bodyguard. I prayed I wasn’t too rusty. I thought about calling back to the Weston’s, asking them to pray. Then I realized it wasn’t necessary. The proof came as I left their driveway, spying them kneeling and holding hands on their porch. Their heads were bowed in prayer.

As I drove, I sorted out possible scenarios and the best way to handle the situation at hand with Destiny and her stalker. But as I did, something kept echoing in my head. In my mind I kept hearing Mary Gold’s voice warning, “Beware of the husband slayer!”