nothing.
“Text them back that you need proof that Joey is still alive,” Nick ordered, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. “Tell them you want to talk to your son.”
She hesitated, afraid that if she made the kidnappers mad they might hurt Joey.
“Rachel, you have to know Joey is alive, or there’s no point in agreeing to the demand.”
Although she hated to admit it, she knew he was right. She took a deep breath and texted back, No money until I speak to my son.
The moment she pressed Send, she wanted to call the message back. She stared at her old phone for several long moments, hoping the kidnapper would respond. With every minute that ticked by, raw fear rose in the back of her throat, suffocating her.
“What if they don’t let me talk to him?” she asked, unable to hide the quiver in her voice. “What if they hurt him, instead?”
“You have to insist on it,” Nick said, a hard edge of steel lining his tone. “Please trust me on this, Rachel.”
“I do, it’s just that I don’t care about the money,” she whispered in agony. “I just want them to give me Joey.”
“I know that, and believe me, they know that, too. They’re playing on your fear, Rachel. They’re doing this to keep you off balance. You have to be strong. For Joey.”
She nodded, but the vise grip around her heart wouldn’t loosen. She wanted to talk to Joey. Desperately needed to hear his voice.
Please, God, please keep Joey safe.
Just when she was about to give up all hope, her old phone rang, from another blocked number. She pushed the button and lifted the device to her ear. “Hello? Joey?”
“Mommy? Are you there?”
Hearing her son’s voice made her eyes well up with tears. “Yes, Joey, I’m here. Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“No, but I’m scared,” Joey said, and she could tell he was crying, too.
“Ask him something that only he knows,” Nick whispered from the front seat. Belatedly, she realized he’d pulled off to the side of the road. “To prove it’s him and not some other kid playing the part.”
She nodded, indicating she’d heard him. “Joey, sweetheart, listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. But I need you to tell me who your favorite basketball player is. Can you do that for me?”
“K-Kirk Hinrich.”
Yes! The starting point guard for the Chicago Bulls was Joey’s favorite player. “That’s good, Joey. I love you. I’m going to get you out of there soon, okay?”
“That’s enough.” A mechanically distorted voice broke into her conversation with her son. “We will give you details about the exchange soon.”
“Wait!” she shouted, but nothing but silence was on the other end. She stabbed the button on her phone to call the blocked number back, but all she heard was a weird click then nothing. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to scream in frustration. But nothing could stop her tears.
“Don’t cry, Rachel,” Nick said in a low, soothing voice. “We’re better off now than we were a few minutes ago. At least we know Joey’s alive and that they’re going to set up the exchange.”
Nick was right, but she couldn’t seem to stem the flowing tears. Just hearing Joey’s voice made her furious with the kidnappers all over again. Her son was alone and afraid. “We have to find him,” she sobbed.
He reached over the back of the seat to gently squeeze her shoulder. “We will. Remember God is watching over him, too.”
Despite how she’d already prayed twice for her son’s safety, Nick’s words were far from reassuring. Because suddenly she couldn’t understand why, if there really was a God, He would put an innocent nine-year-old boy in this kind of danger.
“I don’t believe that,” she said abruptly, pulling away from his reassuring touch. She used the bottom of her sweatshirt to mop her face. “I don’t trust a God who allows my son to be in danger. And I can’t understand how you could
“Text them back that you need proof that Joey is still alive,” Nick ordered, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. “Tell them you want to talk to your son.”
She hesitated, afraid that if she made the kidnappers mad they might hurt Joey.
“Rachel, you have to know Joey is alive, or there’s no point in agreeing to the demand.”
Although she hated to admit it, she knew he was right. She took a deep breath and texted back, No money until I speak to my son.
The moment she pressed Send, she wanted to call the message back. She stared at her old phone for several long moments, hoping the kidnapper would respond. With every minute that ticked by, raw fear rose in the back of her throat, suffocating her.
“What if they don’t let me talk to him?” she asked, unable to hide the quiver in her voice. “What if they hurt him, instead?”
“You have to insist on it,” Nick said, a hard edge of steel lining his tone. “Please trust me on this, Rachel.”
“I do, it’s just that I don’t care about the money,” she whispered in agony. “I just want them to give me Joey.”
“I know that, and believe me, they know that, too. They’re playing on your fear, Rachel. They’re doing this to keep you off balance. You have to be strong. For Joey.”
She nodded, but the vise grip around her heart wouldn’t loosen. She wanted to talk to Joey. Desperately needed to hear his voice.
Please, God, please keep Joey safe.
Just when she was about to give up all hope, her old phone rang, from another blocked number. She pushed the button and lifted the device to her ear. “Hello? Joey?”
“Mommy? Are you there?”
Hearing her son’s voice made her eyes well up with tears. “Yes, Joey, I’m here. Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“No, but I’m scared,” Joey said, and she could tell he was crying, too.
“Ask him something that only he knows,” Nick whispered from the front seat. Belatedly, she realized he’d pulled off to the side of the road. “To prove it’s him and not some other kid playing the part.”
She nodded, indicating she’d heard him. “Joey, sweetheart, listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. But I need you to tell me who your favorite basketball player is. Can you do that for me?”
“K-Kirk Hinrich.”
Yes! The starting point guard for the Chicago Bulls was Joey’s favorite player. “That’s good, Joey. I love you. I’m going to get you out of there soon, okay?”
“That’s enough.” A mechanically distorted voice broke into her conversation with her son. “We will give you details about the exchange soon.”
“Wait!” she shouted, but nothing but silence was on the other end. She stabbed the button on her phone to call the blocked number back, but all she heard was a weird click then nothing. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to scream in frustration. But nothing could stop her tears.
“Don’t cry, Rachel,” Nick said in a low, soothing voice. “We’re better off now than we were a few minutes ago. At least we know Joey’s alive and that they’re going to set up the exchange.”
Nick was right, but she couldn’t seem to stem the flowing tears. Just hearing Joey’s voice made her furious with the kidnappers all over again. Her son was alone and afraid. “We have to find him,” she sobbed.
He reached over the back of the seat to gently squeeze her shoulder. “We will. Remember God is watching over him, too.”
Despite how she’d already prayed twice for her son’s safety, Nick’s words were far from reassuring. Because suddenly she couldn’t understand why, if there really was a God, He would put an innocent nine-year-old boy in this kind of danger.
“I don’t believe that,” she said abruptly, pulling away from his reassuring touch. She used the bottom of her sweatshirt to mop her face. “I don’t trust a God who allows my son to be in danger. And I can’t understand how you could
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