Strengthened

By Michelle Rodriguez

An unimaginable tragedy has driven Jeremy Norton to leave the familiar small town he grew up in and move to Chicago to pursue his career as a detective. Putting as many miles as possible between him and his haunting past, Jeremy anticipates immersing himself in the high-stakes action of the city.

However, Gods plans quickly prove to be drastically different than those Jeremy had in mind. Casting aside the notion of cutting all ties to his former life, Jeremy soon finds himself thrown into a whirlwind of emotions as he is confronted by erratic relationships, relentless ex-convicts, and the will of the Lord. Only through being vulnerable with God can Jeremy be gifted the strength to power through the most difficult journey of his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jul 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490867052

Michelle Rodriguez

I live in Ohio with my husband. I am the proud mother of four kids, all of which are home schooled. I work at my local library. I also enjoy camping with my family and knitting. I have attended several writing classes, and I’ve written a few short pieces, but this is my first novel.

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Copyright © 2015 Michelle Rodriguez.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Cover image by Paul Cimino at Paul Cimino Photography.

Editing by Brittany Cole.

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® are registered trademarks of Biblica, Inc. Use of either trademark for the offering of goods or services requires the prior written consent of Biblica US, Inc.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6706-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6707-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-6705-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015901422

WestBow Press rev. date: 07/31/2015

Contents

Dedications and Acknowledgments

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Epilogue

Dedications and Acknowledgments

First, and foremost, I want to thank my God and Father—the author of my faith. These stories are Yours; they always have been, and they always will be. I am grateful for the opportunity to get to know each character and to share their adventures with others. May Your will be done.

Next, I want to thank my parents for always believing in me. Thank you for raising me with the confidence to know that through Christ I can do all things. Even if we live for more than a thousand years, I will never be able to fully express my gratitude to both of you.

I would also like to thank my beautiful husband, Rob. Your faithfulness and love inspire all of my writing. Thank you for listening to me drone on and on about people who only exist in my head. I know you were relieved when I took up writing because you were starting to fear I was schizophrenic. I love you, babe.

Next, I want to thank my four amazing kids. Tyler, you are no longer a child. I am extremely proud of the man you have grown into. I will always remember our conversations on the late-night drives home from Cedar Point. Your voice was often the only thing that kept me awake—that and a double shot of expresho. Joel, your kind, gentle nature will take you far in life. Your humor helps me through the difficult days. I enjoy watching movies with you and seeing your latest Minecraft adventures. Practice, practice, practice your drums and always play for the Lord. Evan, your love for life is unmatched by anyone I have ever met. When you decide to do something, you give 110 percent, whether it’s riding a horse or playing football. You are always the first to pitch in when there is a job to be done, which I know will someday earn you the pug you’ve been praying for and so much more. Julia, you are not only my youngest, but you are also my only daughter. You are my little performer, thriving in the limelight—in ballet, in cheerleading, or on the stage. Your compassion for all living things (even sharks) and deep faith in God motivate me to be a better person. Always cling to that. I am so proud of all of you, and I can’t wait to see how God uses each of you for Him.

I also want to thank my three best friends: Sarah, Lorrie, and Bethany. Sar, I don’t have to tell you that I wouldn’t be doing any of this without your encouragement. When I told you I wanted to write a story, your response changed my life. Why don’t you? Three simple words, but what an impact. Lorrie, I enjoy every minute we spend together. It is so fun watching our kids play—growing up right before our eyes. And I can’t imagine anyone else asking a woman in labor about the publishing process. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. Bethany, I am so glad God brought you into the family. This story is just as much yours as it is mine. I can’t thank you enough for the late nights you spent with me ironing out every detail, a gift that is purely yours! I know someday I’ll be the one reading your books. God has blessed me with an incredible circle of friends, and I thank Him for each one of you.

Next, I want to thank Pastor John Dove and my Wednesday group. Pastor, you have been my spiritual leader for most of my life. You have taught me so much and helped me to grow into the woman of God I have become. I am honored to call you not only my pastor but also my friend. John, Yvonne, Dave, Sue, Audrey, Anna, Sue, Mary, and Mark, you guys are my Wednesday group—my brothers and sisters in Christ who have shown me what true Christianity is supposed to look like. We laugh together, cry together, and pray together. I love you all. Your friendship means more to me than you will ever know.

Last of all, I want to thank the people who helped this project along. Stevie, Barb, Rebecca, Alex, Amanda and the rest of the WestBow Press team, thank you for accompanying me on this journey. Your encouraging words and positive reviews have helped me immensely. Brittany Cole, thank you so much for editing my book. Your professionalism and skill will take you far in your chosen career. I hope we get the opportunity to work together again. Paul Cimino, of Paul Cimino Photography, thank you for shooting the amazing pictures for the cover of my book. You are the best, and I am honored that your pictures will be the first thing people see when they look at my book. Garett Krieger, thank you for posing for the cover. You handled an awkward situation with grace and dignity, even enduring ravenous mosquitoes to get just the right shot. It will be your image that will draw people into the story. You are a perfect Jeremy! Thinking of this diverse group reminds me of the story of Gideon, who, at God’s command, faced the vast Midianite army with only three hundred men. God gave Gideon the victory, and I know He will do unbelievable things with this story as well because each of you was willing to lend your talents. To God be the glory, forever and ever. Amen.

I can do all things through Christ

who strengthens me.

—Philippians 4:13 (NKJV)

1

J eremy Norton moved effortlessly around his nearly vacant room, looking for any stray bits of his life he may have missed. His eyes swept the area like a well-trained lifeguard at the local pool. His search halted momentarily when his eyes came to rest on the figure that loomed in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed firmly in front of her. His mother. She had made her feelings on his move very clear over the last couple of weeks. Mom, please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.

I just don’t understand why you have to move so far away, his mother replied, her voice wavering slightly.

Chicago is only about four and a half hours from here, Jeremy pointed out for what seemed like the thousandth time since he was offered the job. I really wanted to be working for the FBI, so you should be thankful I got this offer first. Washington, DC, is a lot farther away.

But you already have a job, his mother persisted, not taking her bright blue eyes off of him for a second. No doubt that’s where Jeremy got his blue eyes from.

This is a better job—a job that will allow me to use the education I paid for. Jeremy returned to the spot in his room where his suitcase laid open on the bed. The bed was the only piece of furniture still left in the room, and it was the only piece of furniture that didn’t belong to Jeremy. His furniture, which had been in storage up until a week or so ago, was packed safely in a moving van—a moving van that was hopefully headed to his new apartment in Chicago at this very moment.

You grew up here, Jeremy. Your whole family is here. Us. Your brother and his family. Everyone you know. You have no one in Chicago.

Jeremy crossed the room and took his mother’s hands in his, hoping maybe this time she would understand. You told me not to make any drastic changes for a year, Mother. It’s been eighteen months. Jeremy sighed. I need to get out of here. Everywhere I look I’m reminded of her.

Jeremy’s mother’s brow creased, and she remained silent for a beat or two. What happened wasn’t Melissa’s fault, his mother said in a voice that was barely audible.

Jeremy worked the muscles in his jaw, trying hard not to scream at his mother or break down crying. He always had one of those two reactions when he thought about that dark time in his life. It’s over between us, Mom. She’s with Bryan, and she’s happy. I’m moving on with my life.

The truth was Jeremy had moved on with his life long ago. While his marriage was falling apart, he went back to school, burying himself in his studies. This allowed him to ignore Melissa and all of the things going wrong in his personal life at the time. It was just the icing on the cake when Jeremy came home from work one day and Melissa announced she was moving in with his best friend, Bryan. Jeremy hadn’t cared then, and he certainly didn’t care now. If Bryan wanted her, he could have her.

What you guys had was special, his mother continued, undeterred.

Maybe so, but it’s over now. Jeremy moved back to the large suitcase on his bed and snapped it shut, struggling for a moment at the spot in the middle where the zipper bulged out slightly from being overloaded.

Jeremy’s father stepped into the room. He swore loudly when he saw the stricken look on his wife’s face. Will you let it go already, Heidi? He’s a grown man. If he wants to move to Chicago, let him move to Chicago.

Like I said before, it’s only a four-and-a-half-hour drive. I can come home for visits on the weekend. Jeremy hoisted his suitcase off of the bed and dragged it toward the door of his bedroom, which his mother still blocked. He paused long enough to give her a kiss on the cheek before sneaking past her and continuing on his path to the front door of the old farmhouse where he had grown up.

Here, Son, let me help you with that, Jeremy’s father offered.

Jeremy smiled. No thanks, Dad. I’ve got it.

Well, I’ve got everything else loaded up and ready for you, Jeremy’s father exclaimed proudly, refusing to be rendered useless in the whole situation.

I appreciate that, Jeremy replied. He stepped out the screen door onto the large front porch, allowing the door to slap shut behind him. Jeremy nearly tripped over his dog Digger as he moved to pack the suitcase into the trunk along with a few other odds and ends he had kept out of the moving truck for one reason or another. Digger knew something was up. He had barely left Jeremy’s side all morning.

Jeremy slammed the trunk shut and knelt to pet the dog before turning to face his parents, who were watching him from the front porch. It was early spring in Indiana, and a damp wind blew through the trees. I’ll call you when I get there.

Chicago is such a dangerous place … Jeremy’s mother seemed to be trying one last time to talk some sense into her son. When was the last time you heard of a violent crime in Indiana?

That’s exactly it, Mom. I’m a police officer …

Detective, his father corrected with a gleam in his eye. At least Jeremy’s father was proud of him.

Detective … Jeremy let the word linger in the air for a moment. It would take a while for him to get used to that. Detective Norton. Jeremy Norton, detective. Or Norton, Jeremy Norton, detective at large. Jeremy smiled to himself as he played with the different titles in his mind.

We need police officers … I mean detectives here too. Jeremy’s mother corrected herself when she felt a slight nudge from her husband.

For what? Writing speeding tickets? Jeremy said with a smirk. I didn’t kick my butt in order to further my education so I can sit at the main intersection in town waiting for traffic violations. I just earned my master’s degree in criminal justice. I’m specially trained to negotiate with terrorists, robbers, or any other bad guy you throw my way. Which would have been perfect for the FBI, Jeremy added in his mind. I’m not going to get much of a chance to use that here unless you think I might need to talk the Gibbs twins out of tipping over cows.

Jeremy’s dad let out the deep belly laugh he was famous for, eliciting a scowl from Jeremy’s mother. Jeremy ignored the exchange as he continued to plead his case. Staying here would be like spending all of my time training for the big game, only to be benched when the day actually came. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines anymore, Mom.

Jeremy’s mother’s scowl deepened. She turned and stomped into the house. So much for good-bye, Jeremy thought. Oh well, it would be easier this way.

Jeremy’s father walked down from the porch. He came up beside Jeremy and threw his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder. Don’t worry about her, Jeremy’s father instructed. She’ll get over it.

I know. Jeremy stared into the house where his mother had just disappeared. He didn’t really care if his mother got over it or not. This was something he needed to do. Jeremy turned his attention back to his father. I’ll be in touch.

Jeremy’s father clapped him on the shoulder. He wasn’t really the hugging type, and saying good-bye was much harder than either of them would have liked to admit. You do that, Son. Have a safe trip.

I hope to, Jeremy said as he climbed into the car. Tell Mom I said good-bye.

Will do, Jeremy’s father said before shutting the car door.

Jeremy glanced up at the rearview mirror as he pulled away. His father disappeared in the cloud of dust that was kicked up from the tires moving down the dirt driveway and onto the dirt road. One thing Jeremy wasn’t going to miss about small-town Indiana was dirt.

As the miles gathered behind him and the road stretched out before him, Jeremy felt himself getting more and more keyed up about his move. Chicago would hold many things for Jeremy: a new job with a new title, a new apartment in a big city. Maybe some new friends. Excitement. Adventure. One thing Jeremy was sure Chicago wouldn’t hold for him was a new love. His love had died two and a half years ago.

2

C ollyn Butler stepped out into the sunlight and breathed free air for the first time in ten years. He turned and noticed the guard watching him from his spot behind the fence. Collyn brought his hand up to his forehead and saluted the man in a catch-you-later kind of way. Collyn then began to walk away from the only home he had known for quite a while.

Collyn had heard other inmates saying it was hard to adjust to life on the outside once you spent time in prison, but Collyn knew he would have no problem adjusting to being a free man. After all, Collyn had plans—big plans.

Collyn strolled leisurely to the curb, taking the time to enjoy the blue of the sky and the sweet song of the spring birds that were just beginning to return to Ohio from their long winter away. A light breeze ran through his shaggy, black hair. Collyn frowned. His first order of business would be to get a haircut. Well, his second order of business. Before Collyn did anything else, he had some loose ends to tie up, promises that needed to be kept.

An old maroon Buick came barreling down the road, kicking up dust in its wake. The car stopped in front of Collyn, and the passenger door was thrust open. Collyn smiled and jumped into the car, throwing his bag into the backseat before greeting his best friend. Hey, Don, what’s up?

Same old, same old, Don replied with a shrug before putting the car into gear and speeding away from the prison. How does it feel to be out?

Collyn sucked in a deep breath. It feels great, man. Collyn began rummaging through the car. You got a piece in here?

Don shot Collyn a sideways glance. What would you need that for?

Collyn smiled as he found what he was looking for: a sleek Beretta M9 pistol. He held the gun in his hand, savoring the feel of the cool metal. He angled the weapon upward and rested his forehead on the top side of the barrel. The sensation sent shivers down his spine. It had been a long time since he held a gun, and it had been just as long since he had used one.

What’s Jimmie up to these days?

Jimmie …? You mean the Fizz? Don stammered.

Collyn snickered. He hadn’t heard Jimmie referred to as the Fizz in ages. Rumor had it that Jimmie got the nickname because when he was a little boy, no older than six or seven, he liked to shake up cans of pop and spray people with them. After a while, people would see him coming and warn each other by shouting things like, Watch out! Here comes the Fizz! The nickname stuck.

Jimmie once confided in Collyn that he especially liked to target young girls in light-colored shirts. As much for the satisfaction of ruining the shirt as the free show I got when it was wet, Jimmie had admitted with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Jimmie was the closest thing to a father Collyn had, which was why Collyn had been willing to do whatever Jimmie asked of him. Collyn ran drugs, stole cars, or anything else that needed to be done. Collyn quickly became Jimmie’s right hand. On the day Collyn was arrested, Jimmie was his one phone call. It was in that dark jail cell, which reeked of stale urine, Collyn told Jimmie if he went down, he would eventually get back up again, and when that happened, Collyn promised he would find Jimmie and make him pay. Well, Collyn went down, and now it was time for Jimmie to pay.

Don’s shaky hands caused the car to veer onto the shoulder, the unexpected vibrations quickly snapping Collyn from his reminiscences. Don swallowed hard and took a moment to organize his thoughts, which were very few, thanks to all of the years of drug use. Why do you care what Jimmie is up to?

I’d like to see him, Don. Ten years ago I made a promise to our friend Jimmie, and as you know, I am a man of my word. Collyn watched with mild amusement as Don began to squirm in his seat.

Let it go, man. It’s not worth going after him. We should stay under the radar for a while. Give him time to forget about you and the fact that you were just released. Don nervously scratched at the scruff on his face. He hadn’t shaved in a week or so, but Don wasn’t much of a personal hygiene kind of guy.

Collyn narrowed his deep brown eyes, drilling Don with a cold stare. I’m not hiding like some sort of frightened rabbit. I have a long-overdue appointment with Jimmie, and it’s an appointment I plan to keep. If you are not comfortable with that, then you can let me out right here and I’ll find someone who is.

Don and Collyn had been friends, as well as partners in crime, for as long as either of them could remember. It was almost to the point that Don was codependent, which had made the past ten years especially hard on him. No way, man! I’m not bailing on you now.

Don swung the car around, so they were now headed to the place where Don knew Jimmie would be on a late Friday morning. The closer they got to Jimmie, the more anxious Don became. Collyn, you just got out of prison. I don’t think confronting Jimmie is the best idea right now. I’m sure even having that gun violates some kind of probation.

Collyn threw his head back and laughed. Probation? Is that what you said?

Don chuckled uneasily. Yeah.

Collyn stopped laughing abruptly and smacked Don on the side of the head hard enough to cause him to swerve into the other lane. You think I’m worried about probation? Collyn swore loudly.

I just don’t want you to get thrown back into the slammer, Don said as he rubbed the side of his head, which was throbbing from Collyn’s blow.

They can’t put me back in if they can’t find me, Collyn responded with a sneer.

A short while later, Don pulled the car up in front of a large house. Both men sat and studied it for a moment before Collyn finally broke the silence. Wait here. This won’t take too long.

I’m not sending you in there by yourself, Collyn. Your release was all over the news. I’m sure he’s watching for you.

Well then, I hate to keep him waiting. Collyn yanked at the door handle.

You can’t just barge in there, Don shouted, his voice pitched high with stress. You need a plan.

I’ve had ten years to plan this. Be ready to drive when I come out of there, Collyn told Don before exiting the car.

This is crazy, Don muttered as he watched Collyn make his way up to the house. Don tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling like he needed to get high.

Not too long after Collyn’s departure, gunshots split the air. The sound was followed closely by Collyn’s reappearance. He was racing across the front lawn of the house with three large guys in hot pursuit. Collyn jumped into the car. Drive! he screamed.

Don didn’t need to be told twice. He slammed the car into gear and tore off down the street, gunshots chasing them in vain as they made their getaway. When Don was sure they weren’t being followed, he slowed his speed. The last thing they needed was to get pulled over by a cop. What happened in there? Don shot a sideways glance in Collyn’s direction. Did you kill him?

Collyn smiled. I told him if I went down, he was coming with me.

Jimmie’s dead? Don began to shake. Oh man! Oh man! They’re going to come after us now, Collyn. They’ll hunt us like dogs.

Collyn