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"Stay where you are," ordered John, trying to keep his patience. There was a lot of stress in the air, and it was beginning to show in their voices. "Thanks for the number, Pat," continued John, "I'll call that attorney right away." While Abby stood with car keys in hand, John dialed the number of the man in Watertown that Pat had recommended. "Get on the extension in the kitchen, Abby," he directed, as a voice answered the phone.

Terry and Abby quickly ran to the kitchen, the uncle beating her to the telephone before her. He picked up the receiver and handed it to Abby, suddenly realizing that she had more of a need to hear the conversation than he did. Abby gratefully took the phone and listened with bated breath as her father spoke to the lawyer. Terry stood nearby, intently watching the reaction on her face, as if trying to discern whether there was any good news or not.

"They wouldn't have arrested your son-in-law, Mr. Johannes," the lawyer said in a serious voice, "unless they thought they had a strong case against him. They don't have a murder weapon though, so that's something in our favor. His previous history, however, will go strongly against him in court. There's little doubt of that."

"My daughter," continued John, "wants to go down and see Jake."

"Tonight?" asked the lawyer in surprise. "I don't think it's possible."

"Is it all right if she tries?" asked John.

"I'll tell you what," sighed the man, "I can meet you at the police department in a few minutes. Even at this late hour, there's an off chance that I could talk to the investigators and see how strong of a case they have against Jake."

"Thank you," said John in a grateful voice.

Forgetting that her uncle hadn't been able to hear what was said, Abby quickly hung up the kitchen telephone and started for the door.

"Well, what happened?" he cried.

"He's going to meet us down at the police department," related Abby in a hurried voice. "Dad, can we go now?"

"Who's going to meet us?" asked Terry, more than a little confused.

"Wait a minute, Sweetheart," said John in a forced, calm voice. He sat down next to Izumi on the couch and took her hand. "We need to pray, first." Abby took a patient sigh and bowed her head with everyone else while John asked God for deliverance. "Heavenly Father," he began, "we're in a lot of trouble right now. Jake is sitting somewhere, away from the people who care about him, and he's probably scared. Please, be with him and with the rest of us. We don't know what to do, 'but our eyes are upon Thee.'" (2 Chronicles 20:12)

When the prayer was over, Abby rushed out the front door, while John called a neighbor over, to stay with Izumi while they were gone. Terry quietly got into the back seat of the jeep, as Abby started the engine and pulled in front of her parents' home. Before too long, John appeared from the house and climbed into the passenger seat, up front beside his daughter.

No one said very much on the short drive into Chaumont, where the police department was located. Stray clouds littered the night sky, hiding the large, brilliant moon in fits of light and darkness upon the whim of the wind. As the family climbed out of Abby's jeep in front of the police station, a cool chill ominously hung about their shoulders, hinting the threat of an early winter.

The desk sergeant looked up as the three entered the station. Immediately recognizing John and Terry, he quickly guessed what they wanted.

"You can't see Jake, tonight," he informed them.
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