Callie glanced at the wall clock. Almost midnight. Just a few more minutes and it would be Christmas. No matter what happened, they needed to celebrate the birth of the Christ Child.

  Feeling someone’s gaze, she turned. Joe stared at her from across the room. Callie’s cheeks warmed. Even his spirits seemed buoyed by the Christmas lights. She clicked on a small CD player that sat on the shelf against the wall, and the soothing sounds of Christmas music played.

  Arnie turned off the television and watched as she pulled a Bible from one of the drawers and padded across the lab back to where Joe sat. Lowering herself to the floor, she stared at the clock until the two hands pointed to twelve.

  Opening the Bible, she began to read with a strong, clear voice from the beginning of Luke’s gospel. “In those days, Caesar Augustus published a decree ordering a census of the whole world…”

  Joe tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

  Arnie and Sanchez listened as she read. Even Malachi seemed to understand the significance of the story.

  Robbie calmed, and his face filled with peace. The UV light streamed down on his leg, like the star that had hovered over the tiny stable.

  “While they were there the days of her confinement were completed. She gave birth to her first-born son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger…”

  More than two thousand years ago, Joseph had tried to find shelter for his pregnant wife soon to give birth, but there had been no room in the inn. Did Callie have room in her heart for the Lord? Or did she have a Do Not Enter sign nailed across the entryway? She’d closed her door to Robbie, and he’d ended up with the Exterminators.

  As she read, she glanced from one gunman to the next. Had doors closed on them long ago? Is that why they had chosen the darkness of a life of crime instead of the light of Christ? When she finished the narrative, she shut the Bible and listened to the soft strains of the Christmas music.

  Digging a cell phone from his pocket, Sanchez slid from the chair. “I’m gonna call my wife.” He stepped into the larger laboratory. “Hola, Maria? Feliz Navidad.”

  Hopefully the message had gotten through to him. What about Arnie? Would the Christmas story affect him in a positive way? Or was he the same man who had shoved Callie along the laboratory corridor earlier today? Lord, change his heart, and help us stay alive.

  ELEVEN

  Callie watched Arnie wrap his arms across his chest and stare at the ceiling. No telling what he was thinking.

  Joe’s fingers touched her arm. “The Scripture made me remember the real meaning of Christmas.”

  She smiled at him, seeing the warmth in his gaze. “Amazing, isn’t it? Christ came as a child born so long ago, yet the Christmas message holds the power to heal troubled hearts even today. All of us need to hear that message and allow it to transform our lives.”

  He scooted closer to her. “There’s something I need to tell you, Callie. It’s about your brother.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to hear about jail time or years in prison today, Joe. It’s hard enough knowing I’m the reason he strayed.”

  “You?” He looked surprised. “But you told him to make something of himself.”

  “A lot of good that did.”

  “You’re wrong, Callie. What you said to Robbie caused him to change. That’s what I needed to tell you. Robbie’s not part of the gang. He infiltrated the Exterminators as an undercover cop.”

  She shook her head, confused by what Joe had just said. “He’s a cop? Why didn’t you tell me, Joe?”

  “Because one slip and—”

  “One slip? You didn’t trust me?”

  “Of course I trusted you, but I was responsible for your brother’s safety. I’m the one who insisted he be moved to Lazarus House. I got him and both of us into this mess.”

  All this time, Callie had felt responsible for her brother’s actions.

  “You gave your brother a mandate to change,” Joe continued. “Your tough love opened his eyes. He told me he cleaned up his life because of what Callie had told him. I didn’t realize the Callie he was talking about was his sister.”

  “Rob…Robbie said my words made a difference?”

  Joe nodded. “The problem isn’t with Robbie, is it? The problem is with you. You still can’t forgive yourself.”

  Joe was right. She’d carried the guilt for her sister’s death and Robbie’s failures for too long.

  “You believe in the Lord,” Joe said. “Don’t you believe He forgives?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “But you can’t accept that forgiveness in your own life.”

  “You should talk.”

  Callie had prayed with Theo, asking the Lord to change Joe’s heart. The man who now questioned her ability to forgive should look more closely at himself. Scripture said it was easier to see a splinter in another’s eye rather than the plank in one’s own eye. That Biblical message certainly applied to Joe.

  “I need to check on my brother.” Callie couldn’t think, sitting so close to Joe. She needed space and time alone. Robbie was a cop? The words she’d said to him three years ago had made a difference in his life? Was Joe telling her the truth?

  She took the damp cloth and wiped her brother’s brow. His forehead felt even hotter than before. Surely, he couldn’t survive much longer with the aggressive infection eating away his flesh. Please, Lord, let him live.

  She moved to Malachi’s side. He needed to be sponged off, as well and his dressing changed, but that might not be enough. Just like for her brother, this Christmas could be Malachi’s last.

  Sanchez ended his conversation with his wife and came back into the donor room, his bravado somewhat mellowed. “I talked to Maria.”

  Arnie looked in his direction. “So?”

  “So the kids want to know when their dad’s coming home. I’m leaving soon.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “It’s Christmas, man. Don’t you have family?”

  Arnie rubbed his jaw. “Not anymore.”

  “Parents?”

  “I left home a long time ago and never looked back.” He shook his head. “We were dirt-poor. No money. Not enough food. The only thing different about Christmas was a little candy on our dinner plates.”

  “What about church?”

  The ringleader laughed. “Church? The only time I went was on my wedding day.” He shrugged. “My wife said old habits die hard. When she left, she took the baby. Now I’ve got money but no one to spend it on.” He chortled. “Maybe I’ll buy gifts for your kids, Sanchez. How many you got?”

  “Five. One on the way.”

  Joe listened as the gunmen talked. Sad to think of the bad choices they had each made. What about his own choices? As a thirteen-year-old, he’d reacted the only way he knew how. If something hurt, cut it out of your life. Theo hadn’t wanted him. Stood to reason that Joe wouldn’t want Theo, either.

  But years had passed, and the fast living that had been Theo’s reason for closing his door to Joe had done damage. Because of the cancer, his brother’s medical condition was fragile at best. Yet the two of them had never reconnected.

  Forgiveness? The word flickered through Joe’s mind. He’d told Callie to forgive herself. Truth was, Joe needed to forgive Theo.

  Something he couldn’t do.

  Callie wiped a cloth over Malachi’s forehead and lowered her ear as he whispered something to her. Adjusting the blanket around his shoulders, she patted his hand and then went back to her brother and once again examined his leg. The wound had grown.

  Callie’s face was drawn as she returned to the corner and sat a few feet away.

  Joe was filled with regret. “I didn’t tell you about your brother, Callie, because I wanted to keep you safe,” he whispered as Arnie and Sanchez talked.

  “You didn’t trust me.”

  “I didn’t know you, Callie. We only met a few hours ago.” He looked into the depth of her soul and saw the purity and beauty of this woman he’d been waiting his whole lifetime to find. “Now it seems like I’ve known you forever.”

  “Did you give Robbie the undercover assignment?”

  Joe nodded, knowing he had to tell her everything, even if it would turn her against him for good.

  “Your brother asked to infiltrate the Exterminators, but the decision to use him was mine. He’s made a difference, Callie. His actions have been courageous and self-sacrificing. That’s who he became after you challenged him to grow into a man.”

  “I told him I’d pray for him to be the man God had created him to be.”

  “Your prayers paid off. Robbie’s a fine and noble person. A person I’m proud to know.”

  Tears swelled in her eyes, and she scooted closer. Placing her hand in his, the two of them sat for a long moment. “You know Theo loves you,” Callie finally said.

  Joe’s throat thickened.

  “Theo said his life was mixed up when your parents died. He was into things he didn’t want you to know about. That’s why he didn’t take you in. He wanted something better for you.”

  “Better?” Joe thought of his foster parents and the brick two-story house where they lived—a place he now called home. Good people, they had given him love and acceptance, guidance and respect. Under their care, he had moved from a troubled adolescence into a stable adulthood.

  Joe tipped his head back. His eyes rested on the hand-hewn stable where the ceramic figures of Joseph and Mary gathered around the manger. Peace on earth, goodwill toward men. The words played through his mind. Maybe he could at least have goodwill toward his brother. It would be a start.

  Callie squeezed his hand. “You’ve been doing a very good thing, and it’s probably worth more because of the way you feel about Theo.”

  “Worth more? What do you mean?”

  “You’re his anonymous donor, aren’t you? Tamika mentioned that someone paid Theo’s bills, but she never told me it was his estranged brother. Theo doesn’t even know.”

  “It needs to stay that way. It wouldn’t do any good for him to know his younger brother is supporting him.”

  “Probably not. But you’re a good man, Joe. Theo’s lucky to have you in his life.”

  Joe looked into her eyes as their fingers entwined. “If I’ve learned anything during this hostage situation, Callie, it’s that life can’t be taken for granted. Certain things are important, like relationships and family and someone to love.”

  TWELVE

  Joe watched the two gunmen for some sign of fatigue. Callie had mixed the pain medication in with the sweet potato casserole, which the men had eaten, yet neither appeared tired.

  “We need to leave,” Sanchez said. “The middle of the night is our best chance to get out of the city.”

  Arnie nodded. “But I say when.”

  Grumbling, Sanchez retreated back to the donor chair. Settling into the contour, he closed his eyes and soon fell asleep. At least the medication had worked on one of the gunmen.

  Callie padded quietly to Malachi’s side. Once again, she wiped his hands and brow then bent down to whisper in his ear. One lone tear fell from his eye and rolled down the side of his face.

  Before long, the Exterminators would claim another fatality. Heaviness settled over Joe. Lord, no more deaths. Protect us from harm.

  Callie checked her brother’s leg and wiped his forehead. Robbie’s eyes blinked open. He raised his hand off the bed and pointed to the crèche. She smiled and nodded.

  The action between brother and sister signaled reconciliation and forgiveness. Callie’s face reflected love and acceptance. Robbie, even through his fever and pain, seemed renewed, as if the action brought healing.

  Joe’s eyes fell on the tiny manger and the babe who came so that all might have eternal life.

  Malachi? Would he see the face of God?

  Robbie? Oh, Lord, he needs medical care. Keep him alive.

  And Callie? Keep her safe.

  Take me instead, Lord.

  Callie came back to the corner and sat next to Joe. Without having to ask, she whispered, “Robbie and I used to act out the Nativity when we were young. He liked to pretend he was the lamb following the shepherd to the stable.”

  “The shepherd—the Good Shepherd—protected him from harm,” Joe said aloud.

  Surprise registered on her face. “That’s right. He always asked God to protect both of us when our parents argued.”

  “Protected by a God who loved you,” Joe added. Hearing his own voice made the words real to him.

  Had it only been hours since he and Callie had met? He loved her courage, her determination, her optimism. Fact was, he was starting to love Callie.

  She wouldn’t let anyone control her life nor would she back down about her relationship with the Lord. Joe wanted that confidence in a loving God as well.

  “Pray with me,” he whispered. “I want the fullness of God’s love.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “He already lives within you, Joe. You just didn’t recognize Him.”

  Callie placed her hand in his and prayed with him. Love filled his heart like he’d never known before. Love for Callie. Love for the Lord.

  He finally saw clearly. Theo hadn’t abandoned him all those years ago. He’d made a decision about what would be best for Joe. Tough love.

  As a young teen, Joe had only thought about his immediate pain. He hadn’t thought about needing a good home life and stability, which is what his foster parents had provided. If Joe hadn’t shut Theo out of his life, perhaps the loving family that had raised Joe and provided for his every need could have influenced his brother. Instead, Joe had excluded Theo.

  If only he had a chance to ask his brother’s forgiveness. From the depths of his heart, Joe knew the Lord forgave him. Now if only he’d have the opportunity to ask Theo’s forgiveness.

  Arnie stood and turned on the overhead television. He flipped the channels to the all-night news. The order of stories appeared in a sidebar on the screen. The Atlanta hostage segment was next in the lineup.

  Malachi moaned.

  “You think he caught Rocky’s infection?” Arnie asked Sanchez, but he was still asleep.

  Squeezing Joe’s hand, Callie whispered, “This might be what we’ve been waiting for. I’ll try to get into the micro lab and come up with some type of disruption. I grabbed vinegar and baking soda from the break room. It’ll sound worse than it really is.”

  Arnie motioned Callie toward him. “My throat hurts,” he said as she neared. “You think I could have that flesh-eating bug?”

  Callie hesitated, throwing a quick glance back at Joe. “I’m not sure. Let me do a throat culture.” She pulled a sterile swab from a drawer. “Open your mouth.”

  Arnie complied. While she swabbed his throat, Joe pulled the debriding scissors from his pocket and snipped through the tie that bound his hands.

  “I’ll test this right away.” Callie headed for the micro lab.

  Holding his hands together as if they were still bound, Joe stood up.

  Arnie glared at him. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to stretch my legs.”

  “Forget it.”

  “Really, Arnie. My legs are stiff. I just need to stand.”

  “I said no.”

  Robbie jerked, knocking the UV light to the floor. Joe leaned down to pick up the lamp and unplugged the cord at the same time.

  Callie stepped back into the donor room. “I’ve got bad news, Arnie. You’ve got the same infection as Rocky.”

  The ringleader raised his hands and clutched his neck. His eyes widened.

  Knowing she was setting Arnie up, Joe prepared to act.

  Sanchez blinked his eyes open and stared at the television screen as the news report continued.

  “Law enforcement provided a photo of the Atlanta police officer thought to have been taken hostage,” the newscaster said. “His name is Joe Petrecelli.”

  Joe’s picture flashed on the screen.

  “Yikes, Arnie.” Sanchez slid out of his chair and pointed to Joe. “He’s a cop.”

  Behind them, an explosion tore through the micro lab.

  Arnie and Sanchez turned toward the doorway.

  “Fire,” Callie screamed, grabbing the extinguisher from the wall.

  In one swift motion, she pulled the pin and aimed the flow of retardant at Sanchez. The spray hit him in the face, knocking him back against the counter. His head hit the overhead cabinet.

  She slammed the canister against his chest. With a loud moan, Sanchez doubled over and slid to the floor.

  Joe struck Arnie with the metal base of the UV lamp as he fumbled for his gun. The rapid motion tore at Joe’s wound, and pain, hot as lightning, ricocheted down his arm.

  Arnie pulled his weapon free. Turning, he aimed at Callie. She readjusted the canister in her hands, oblivious to the immediate danger.

  Joe had to save her. Gathering strength from deep within him, he lurched forward, slamming his good shoulder into Arnie’s side. Air wheezed from the gunman’s lungs. Joe grabbed his wrist, and the two men fought for control of the automatic.

  “No,” Callie screamed. She raised the extinguisher and slammed it against Arnie’s head.

  Staggering backward, he crashed into the biohazard trash container, knocking it over as he fell to the floor. The gun dropped, and the contents of the receptacle spilled onto Arnie’s lap.

  He covered his face with his hands and screamed.

  Joe grabbed the gun and aimed it at Arnie. “Call the police, Callie. Tell them we’ve got the Exterminators under control.”

  THIRTEEN

  Callie stood at Robbie’s bedside, praying that the massive doses of antibiotics threading through his veins would combat the flesh-eating strep. When they’d arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night, the doctors hadn’t been optimistic. Now as the sun began to set on Christmas Day, Callie felt especially discouraged and alone.

  A knock at the door caused her to raise her eyes. “Come in.”