“He who is pregnant with evil and conceives trouble gives birth to disillusionment. He who digs a hole and scoops it out falls into the pit he made. The trouble he causes recoils on himself; his violence comes down on its own head.” Psalm 7:14-16
That Sunday evening, like most such evenings, I was at church early for Praise Band practice when I received a call from Sally. Not feeling well, she was planning to stay home and rest. The boys, she said, were going to a movie with her dad.
On my way to Sunday school an hour later, I phoned to check on her, but got no answer. No answer on her cell phone either.
I panicked! Racing to the house, I found the garage door open, the house unlocked and her vehicle gone. An unfamiliar phone number was written on a slip of paper lying on the kitchen counter—the same number was the last incoming call on the caller ID—right after my call! I dialed it. A man answered and, when questioned, indicated he had misdialed. Wrong number.
I was frantic; so afraid something had happened prematurely, off-script, or worse, that word had failed to make it all the way down the chain that this whole thing had been called off.
Intending to go to the theater to find my children, praying that she had decided to go with them, I hurried up the street. That’s when I noticed my father-in-law’s vehicle in the driveway of one of my neighbors. I knew these neighbors, but was unaware that he did. I stopped in. There was no show down; no stand off; nothing that sensational.
Wesley, despite all his boasting and sinister assurances (they were surely all part of his original plan) never intended to harm anyone. Money was the sole motivation. When he discovered I was through; that the flow of money had stopped; he attempted to collect from a Crime Stoppers tip and turned over the voice-mail messages and a detailed statement to the police. Even his attempt to lure me out of church that morning to “identify Sally’s vehicle” was a ploy—the police were waiting for me then.
Sally and I were sitting outside on our friend’s patio talking. I was so relieved that she was there and unharmed. She was nervous, on edge, since she knew what was about to happen.
The boys left with her dad. The police came and, twelve hours later, in the early hours of June 18, 2001, I was in a cell with a signed confession sitting somewhere in a police file with my name on the cover.
Thank God, angels were watching over my family.
Navigate here for the Deception Home Page.
