But the man who’d taken her didn’t free her. Instead, he drove to the top of a long sloping boat ramp that ended in the river. He angled the car to face the water, then cut off the ignition.

Oh.

Not good.

It might not be the cancer that killed her after all.

It might be the East River.

The old priest at the monastery had told her that obedience was the pathway to deeper love. She wasn’t sure if her loving feelings for God would ever return, but she did know that if it was up to her to regain that love, she would fail.

Always fail.

If it relied on her, her obedience would never be enough.

She needed grace more than anything.

A grace that might not be easy to understand but that would give her the assurance that God loved her, despite how she had failed to love him.

A Scripture verse from Romans came to mind: “Nothing can separate us from the love of God.”

Then, she heard more words in her soul, ones directed at her situation: maybe not words straight from the Bible, but ones that seemed to come straight from the Lord.

Not doubts. Not anger. Not questions. Not fear.

Not life. Not death.

Nothing.

Not lack of love. Not cancer.

No. Nothing can separate you from my love.

A prayer wrenched from deep inside of her: I do believe. Help my unbelief. I do love. Help my lack of love.

The priest had said, “Perhaps it is not your body that is the most in need of healing.”

I need you, God, she prayed. More than ever before. If you don’t heal my cancer, at least heal my heart.

And something stronger than fate warmed her soul, comforted her spirit. The Truth, the Living Truth, the Love of God, welcomed her, and she let herself fall into her Savior’s embrace.

Then Christie’s abductor exited the car, and she got ready to defend herself, but he didn’t open the door for her. Instead, he just stood in the falling snow holding a hammer in his hand, watching another car make its way along the river road toward them.

77

Keeping his gun on Mannie, Ralph held up his handcuffs. “In a minute, you’re going to be wearing these.”

“They can’t hold me.”

“Maybe not, but I can.” Then Ralph had a thought. “It was you, wasn’t it? You turned on that tracking device.”

Mannie didn’t respond.

“But why?”

“I needed you to find us here in time.”

“And the anonymous call turning Duane Sheldrick in?”

“Yes.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“It’s not about whose side I’m on. It’s about what I’m fighting for.”

“And what is that?”

“Hope.” Mannie reached down to an ankle sheath and removed a combat knife, then tossed it to the side.

“Kneel,” Ralph ordered. “Hands behind your head.”

Mannie knelt.