Chapter eleven

Somehow Jack managed to convince the Boulder police to let him help. And after telling them what he had in mind, a policeman cut the chain that held the big gates shut using the heavy-duty wire cutter he took from the trunk of the patrol car. Then the four men walked up the driveway to the three-story Victorian house.

Once they reached the front porch, which ran across the width of the house, they separated, Jack and the policeman named Simpson went to the left, while Jim and Sergeant Thomas moved to the right. Looking in the windows as he walked, Jack didn't see anyone until he reached the back of the house, where the lights were the brightest. There in the kitchen he saw Sara standing at the stove. She had her back to the window, and she was stirring something in a small pot on the stove. DJ was no where in sight.

Jack signaled his companion that Sara was there. And after the officer took a peek in the window, they crept down the porch stairs and met with the other two men on the other side of Sara's car, where they couldn't be heard.

"She's in the kitchen at the back of the house," Jack said, pointing to the left side. "DJ is probably asleep by now, so he may be upstairs," Jack suggested in a quiet voice.

"I agree," Officer Simpson responded.

"I'd go up after him myself, but with my bum leg…" Jack just shook his head sorrowfully. Climbing up to the second story from the outside was not something of which he was capable anymore. It nearly killed him to have to admit it, but he put his pride aside for the sake of his son.

"It's okay, I'll go," Officer Simpson offered. "You just keep her busy down here."

"I'll do my best. You two get outa here so she doesn't see you," Jack told Sara's father and the other cop, and then he stepped up onto the porch and approached the front door. He rang the doorbell, while Officer Simpson went to the back of the house and waited until Sara left the kitchen.

It was a full minute before Jack saw Sara's form through the wavy glass in the front door. Then the porch light came on and he heard the tumblers in the lock turning. And then the front door opened, and Sara was standing there staring at him.

"Hi, Sara, may I please come in?" he asked, giving her a friendly smile. Sam had told him that his smile was one of his best features, so he tried to use it now to his advantage. But apparently Sara wasn't buying what he was selling.

"Jack! What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously.

"I just wanna talk to you, Sara. I've come a long way to see you, and I'm tired. I could use a cup of coffee…and something to eat too, if you have enough?" He had seen the coffee maker on the counter, as well as the pot she was stirring on the stove. So he used what he knew to try and get her to let him in.

"Oh my God, the soup!" she cried, and then she turned around and took off for the kitchen, leaving Jack standing there in the open doorway.

Meanwhile Officer Simpson had already climbed up to the second story, where he was trying to find an unlocked window. His first two attempts failed, and he ended up climbing up to the third story, where he finally found a window that was not only unlocked but slightly open. It led into what was apparently part of the attic, and the dark room was full of dusty boxes and other things. Luckily he had his flashlight with him, so he was able to make his way to the stairs without tripping over anything. Then slowly and quietly he descended the stairs, and then he opened the door to the hallway.

A small rectangular table sat in the middle of the large kitchen, and at one end stood a highchair, the tray of which was smeared with food. Jack breathed a sigh of relief, because it meant that DJ was there and that Sara was feeding him.

"Are your hands clean?" Sara asked, giving Jack a critical stare.

"Yes," he lied. He figured if he said they weren't clean, she'd tell him to go the bathroom and wash them. And right now he needed to stay here with her, to make sure she didn't leave the kitchen.

So Jack sat down at the table and watched as Sara poured coffee into two cups. She set them on the table, one in front of him and one at the opposite end of the rectangular farm table. She also gave Jack a paper napkin. Next she got a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and set it down in the center of the table, just like she'd done for him a thousand times in the past.

When she went back to the stove, he studied her, noting how dirty and unkempt her hair and clothing appeared to be. Her lack of cleanliness surprised and appalled him. It also made him sad, and a part of him felt responsible for her condition. Maybe if he'd begged her not to leave him, things would be different for her now…better somehow? But he knew that it did no good to dwell on what might have been. In boot camp he had been taught that second guessing yourself could get you killed. And as he matured he learned it wasn't a worthwhile thing to do, no matter what the situation was.

It also did no good looking for explanations when bad things happened to good people. Things didn't always happen for a reason, he wasn't being punished for being a bad person, and his ex-wife's fate was not his responsibility. He knew all those things, so why did he still feel like such an asshole?

When Sara turned around again, Jack lowered his head and reached for the carton of milk, not wanting her to know that he had been studying her appearance. He poured a little milk into his coffee. He was about to take a sip when he thought he saw something floating on the surface of the brown liquid. Using the tip of his pointer finger he fished out the offensive particle and shook his hand, flinging whatever it was away, most likely onto the floor, which he noticed was none too clean.

He heard her snort derisively. "Why do you always do that? That cup was clean, Jack," she said, looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Just an eyelash. Probably my own," he replied truthfully.

The contents of the saucepan on the stove had apparently not been ruined by her inattention, so she spooned the contents into two bowls before setting one of them in front of Jack. Then she got a box of saltine crackers out of the cupboard and put it on the table as well. She finally sat down facing Jack, but she bent her head and started eating her soup, just as though it was something they still did every day together.

"Looks good," Jack said, wanting to keep the conversation light. "Did you make it?"

"Cut the crap, Jack; you can tell it's canned. Now eat it while it's hot. I hate it when I have to cook for you at all hours," she complained.

"I'm sorry."

"Charlie cut another tooth today," she told him then.

Not wanting to upset her, Jack forced himself to play along. "He did? That's great!" Then he forced himself to swallow a spoonful of the vegetable soup, although it seemed to have very little taste. All he could think about was that right now a policeman was trying to rescue his son from this crazy woman.

And though he felt concern for his son's safety, he also felt concern for Sara. What would happen to her now? The woman sitting across from him had once shared his bed and his dreams. They had made plans for a future together. Now she was like a stranger to him…a stranger who was threatening to ruin his life with Sam and DJ.

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, and then Jack heard a noise. Sara obviously heard it too, because she put her spoon down in the bowl and looked up toward the ceiling.

"Rats," Jack said under his breath.

"What?" she asked, screwing her face up in obvious confusion.

"I said it's probably rats. Big old house like this probably has a bunch of 'em," he explained.

"What are you talking about? Why are you here?" she asked suddenly, as though it had just occurred to her that they were no longer married.

"I came to see how you're doing."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously. Jack was about to answer her, when they both heard footsteps out in the hallway. Sara stood up just as Officer Thomas came striding into the room, his gun drawn and pointing at Sara.

"What are you doing here? What's going on?!" she cried. Seeing that she wasn't armed, the officer holstered his gun and took hold of her arm, pulling it behind her as held a pair of cufflinks in his other hand.

"Where's my son?" Jack asked as he rounded the table.

"The boy's outside. Lady, you're under arrest for kidnapping," Jack heard the officer saying as he jogged out of the room. He was out the front door and down the porch steps faster than he thought possible for a man with only one good leg.

When Jack reached the patrol car, DJ was sitting on Officer Simpson's lap while he spoke into his radio. Meanwhile Sara's father was seated in the backseat of the car with the doors locked. Obviously he'd gotten upset and the police had to lock him up so he wouldn't interfere. When he saw Jack, he starting barking questions at him

"Let me outa here! Where's my daughter? Is she okay?" he asked.

"Yah, she's okay," Jack replied, although he knew that wasn't really the case. Sara was sick.

Jack took the boy from the officer, who then went to assist his partner, who was leading a very agitated Sara down the steps. When she saw DJ she screamed that Jack was stealing Charlie from her, and the police should be doing something to prevent it. But soon she was in the back seat of the patrol car with her father, and the car door was shut, muffling the sound of her cries.

Jack hated seeing Sara so confused and upset, and he hugged DJ to his chest so tightly that the boy complained with a loud squeal. Jack loosened his grip a little and kissed his son's round rosy cheek.

"Sorry, kid, it's just that I'm very happy to see you. Did you miss your old man? Huh? Did ya?" Jack asked, as he kissed his son's face and head again and again.

DJ responded with just one word, "Baba!"

"You want a bottle? You don't see me for twenty-four hours and that's all you've got to say? I'm crushed!" Jack said with mock indignation.

Jack called Sam and filled her in on what had happened at the old house in Boulder. She seemed very composed, but he could hear the tension in her voice, especially when he told her that DJ had cut a new tooth.

After he promised to phone her again as soon as the police were finished with him, he drove to the Boulder Police station. It was after 23:00 by the time the local cops got through questioning him. But then he hung around a bit just to make sure that Sara was alright, or at least as alright as she could be under the circumstances. They assured him no harm would come to her, that she would be kept in the local hospital's psyche ward until the FBI came to get her. And after saying good-bye to her father, Jack headed for the nearest hotel, much too exhausted to drive home.

And now an hour later DJ was half-heartedly sucking on a bottle of warm milk, while safely tucked into a crib at the Boulder Marriott, and Jack was stretched out on the bed, his cell phone in his left hand.

"I'm sorry, Sam, but we're both beat." It was a three hour drive from there to their home in Colorado Springs, so he had decided to get some sleep before making the trip.

"It's alright, Jack. You get some sleep. As long as I know you're both, I'm okay," Sam assured him, once she got her tears under control. This time she hadn't been able to hide her true feelings from him. In fact she had been so happy and relieved to hear from him that she had broken down completely, doing nothing but sob into the receiver for a full minute. Janet, who was seated next to her on the sofa, kept patting her hand reassuringly.

"We'll be home before lunch," Jack assured her. "I love you, Sam. DJ sends his love too."

"I love you both too! Thank you, Jack," she said sincerely, and then she began crying again.

"Honey, please try to calm down. Sara didn't hurt him. He's fine and you'll see him tomorrow."

"I know. It's just that…. Jack, I don't know what I would do without him…and you, of course. You're my hero!"

Jack grinned. Hearing those words from anyone would have been great, but hearing them from Sam was like a dream come true! He still couldn't believe how his life had turned around. Just a few months ago he was wondering if he'd ever feel loved again, and now he had a caring wife, a wonderful son and another baby on the way.

"Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Jack. Sleep tight!"

TBC