Finding Christmas Page 12

  The adult Joanne put her childish ways aside as she spoke and shared the problems she’d been facing.

  “Oh, no,” her mother said. “Who would do that?”

  “I don’t know, Mom, but the police are on it.” Were they?

  “Do you need me?”

  How often she’d needed her mother, but not today. She had the authorities and she had Benjamin. “I’m fine, really,” she said, allowing the truth to set in. She had God on her side and He was her greatest ally.

  “I’d be happy to come,” her mother said.

  “No. Really. I’m fine.”

  The doorbell rang, and she ended her call, feeling she’d made some progress. At least she’d been honest with her mother, and she had heard a sincere reaction to news of her recent trials.

  Benjamin stood on the porch with a grin on his face and a bag of bagels in his hand. As Joanne opened the door he breathed in the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. He gazed at her and noticed a brighter look on her face.

  “You look smiley today,” he said.

  “I feel good. Great sermon. Too bad you missed it.”

  His grin widened. “Did I need to hear it?” He stepped inside and headed for the kitchen.

  She shook her head. “No, I did.”

  He chuckled as he sat the bag on the table. He put out the cream cheese with chives as Joanne got plates and knives and poured the coffee.

  “What’s up? No calls? E-mails?”

  “None.” She looked away, then turned back. “I called my mom.”

  “Really.”

  “You got me thinking.”

  “I did?”

  Her gaze drifted away from him. He missed looking into her eyes.

  “About my hard-heartedness,” she said.

  “I didn’t mean to confront you.”

  “No. I needed to hear it.” She lifted the knife and scooped up some cream cheese. “The sermon focused on the same thing. I knew it was something I had to do.” She shifted toward him. “I’ve looked at this totally from my point of view, not theirs. I’ve always known my family was a little self-centered. I have been, too, I suppose.”

  He’d never seen Joanne act self-centered, but maybe he was prejudiced. “So what happened with the call?”

  “I decided to tell her about the things going on here. That way she’d understand why I decided not to visit for Christmas.”

  “And?” He lifted a bagel, then paused. “What did she say?”

  “She wanted to come here. I told her no.”

  That confused him. “Why did you do that?”

  “I figured it would save embarrassment. If I encouraged her to come, she’d have to find an excuse why she couldn’t make it. This way it saves her the trouble.”

  Benjamin felt his jaw sag. “You really feel that way?”

  Joanne shrugged. “If she came, what could she do? The police haven’t done anything.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m confused. I don’t know what I think.”

  “Joanne, let’s not argue. You’re exhausted. Too much has happened and you’re overwhelmed. I’m a mess. Let’s try to keep our spirits up.” He slid his hand across the table and grasped her free hand. “Will you pray with me?”

  Her eyes glazed with tears. “Please, Benjamin.”

  She bowed her head while Benjamin took their concerns to the Lord.

  “Where did you go Saturday night?” Nita propped her hip against Joanne’s desk. “I’m telling you, Benjamin is so romantic. I don’t care what you say.”

  Joanne had grown tired of denying her feelings, and today she spoke her heart without a qualm. “He is, but I don’t think he knows it.”

  Nita snorted a laugh. “You don’t think he knows it? How can that be?”

  “I truly believe he’s being a friend.”

  Nita leaned closer. “What about you?”

  Joanne shook her head at Nita’s persistence. “I admit—it used to be just friendship, but now I’m really crazy about him.”

  “Finally!” Nita’s face glowed.

  “I can’t fight city hall.”

  “Or your heart.” Nita gave her a hug. “I’m thrilled for you. I really am. You’ve been a faithful wife to Greg, but the marriage vows say ‘as long as you both shall live.’ It’s time to let go, Joanne.”

  “I think I have, Nita, but I’m not sure about him.”

  “Can’t you ask him? Just tell him how you feel.”

  Joanne’s pulse fluttered at the idea. “I don’t think I can. Pride or fear. I don’t want to lose his friendship. It’s too precious to me. We’ve been so careful, but things are starting to change naturally. I think I’ll just pray God opens the door.”

  “You can’t go wrong with that.” Then she laughed. “And if Benjamin tries to lock the door, maybe you can give him a little help. You know.”

  Joanne chuckled at her friend’s eagerness for her to find love. “You’re a dear friend.”

  As the words left her mouth, the telephone rang. Joanne lifted her index finger to halt the conversation and grabbed the receiver. “Solutions. Joanne Fuller speaking.”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  The hushed voice wheeled over her like a steamroller. Her heart skipped, and her eyes shifted toward Nita. She couldn’t let on. “One moment, please.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “This will take a while.”

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Nita said with a nod.

  Once Nita left the room, Joanne pulled her hand from the mouthpiece. “What deal?” she asked, praying the woman hadn’t hung up. “I asked for proof. I haven’t seen any.”

  “I gave you the photo.”

  “What photo?”

  “The photograph I put in your shopping bag.”

  The woman’s breathing sounded labored, and her voice trembled. Joanne feared she wouldn’t stay on the line long. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “At the café at the mall. I slipped a photo of your daughter into your shopping bag.”

  Joanne’s chest burned as each breath left her. “I didn’t find it. I’m sorry.”

  As she opened her mouth to ask more, the telephone clicked, then disconnected.

  Tears pooled in Joanne’s eyes. Her last visit to the mall dashed through her thoughts. Was it the woman with the keys? Joanne had left her packages and had been distracted only for a moment. How had she missed seeing someone near her bags? She tried to recapture the face of the woman—harried, Joanne remembered, and with eyes that had watched her from the other side of the mall.

  Could it be?

  She tensed as she thought of the packages tucked in her closet, waiting to be wrapped. Every time the woman called, Joanne heard greater desperation in her voice. And now she might have scared the caller off with the delay.

  Joanne placed her hand on the telephone, longing to call Benjamin, but she stopped herself. She couldn’t. He’d stop her if he knew. Loneliness surrounded her. Her hand twitched as she pulled it away and turned to the computer. Instead, she’d write him an e-mail about nothing, so she could feel connected to him without his seeing her face. Benjamin always knew when something had gone wrong.

  She clicked on the e-mail icon, and her mail opened. Glaring back at her was Shadow@123go.com. She gaped at the message.

  YOU’RE ABOUT TO LOSE WHAT YOU WANT.

  YOU’RE GETTING CARELESS.

  The words raked over her. Lose what you want. Her daughter was what she wanted.

  She hit the print icon, then deleted the e-mail. Her chest ached with desperation.

  Dear Lord, please, don’t let it be too late. If Mandy is alive, Father, lead me to her. Give me the strength I need, and forgive me for my doubts.

  Her amen whispered through her mind and into her heart.

  Chapter Twelve

  Joanne raced into the house, threw her coat over the chair and darted down the hall to her bedroom closet. Like a madwoman, she tore into the pile of shopping bag
s and dragged them onto her bed.

  Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she ripped the gifts and boxes from the tissue and spread the items across the quilt. When she pulled out Nita’s tray, something fell to the bed. Her hand trembled as she lifted the white rectangle and turned it over.

  A child’s face looked back at her. A blond child with pale blue eyes and Mandy’s features—more mature, sadder, but Mandy’s. A sob rent Joanne’s chest and she clutched the photograph to her chest, her body shaking with uncontrollable tremors.

  She had no doubt, not one question. The child in the photograph was Mandy. She would stake her life on it. Joanne recalled school pictures of herself at age six. She and Mandy looked like twins, except that Mandy had her father’s mouth, the generous smile with a hint of dimples.

  Pushing the gifts and packages aside, Joanne fell back onto the bed, the photograph clutched against her chest. She struggled to breathe, to believe what she had seen with her own eyes. The truth wrapped around her, strangling her with the amazing occurrence. Mandy was alive. How? Why? She had no answers, and now she didn’t care.

  Mandy lived and breathed somewhere. “Oh, Lord,” Joanne cried aloud. “Help me find my daughter.”

  Joanne awakened still holding the photograph. Darkness pressed against the windows, and she was startled to think she’d fallen asleep. She pulled her body upward and slid her legs over the edge of the bed, then glanced at the clock. She’d been there for two hours.

  She knew Benjamin would call and want to drop by, and she needed to get a grip on herself. Her focus returned to the photograph, and her heart knocked double time while she struggled to breathe. What should she do? Now she had proof, but if she told Benjamin he’d insist on telling the police, and Joanne sensed she’d lose her caller. The woman was already afraid—petrified was more like it, judging by her tone—and if she panicked and ran, then Joanne would be the loser.

  She couldn’t lose her daughter again.

  Her pulse riffled through her body as reality engulfed her. She had to follow the woman’s wishes. Money was nothing compared to having her daughter back in her arms. Greg had left Joanne well off. She had her job. She had investments. She could get her hands on the sum easily—and she would. She had no choice.

  Joanne crossed the room and slipped the photograph into her jewelry box. She couldn’t chance anyone seeing it. Not now. Not until she’d had time to organize her finances and make her move.

  She had the third e-mail, too, and she needed to tell Benjamin about that. She should have dropped it off at the police department, but she’d been too frantic to get home.

  The doorbell rang, and Joanne answered it, confidant it was Benjamin. He’d become a daily part of her life, so much so that she felt lost without him. Yet now, seeing him caused her grief because of the secret she would keep from him.

  “Hi,” she said as she opened the door.

  His smile lit the room as he entered, and he slid his arm around her waist and gave her a brief hug. “I’ve stopped calling before I visit. Did you notice?”

  She managed to grin back. “It just means we’re best friends. No pretenses—” Her heart surged with the reminder. “No need to impress. What you see is what you get.”

  A flicker of concern whisked across his face and caused Joanne to wonder. In a heartbeat his smile returned, and he slipped off his jacket, then hung it on the doorknob.

  “What are you up to?” he asked.

  The question sent a slither of guilt down her spine. “Nothing much.” She walked ahead of him to the kitchen. “To be honest, I fell asleep for a few minutes.”

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” His voice came from behind her.

  “No.” She turned to face him. “I woke up a while ago. I’m surprised I fell asleep. I never do that.”

  He reached her and rested his hand on her shoulder. “You’re exhausted with everything going on, Joanne. Emotion is the worst for sapping people’s strength.”

  She nodded, realizing she hadn’t eaten and knowing she didn’t want to. “I got another e-mail today.”

  “No.” He searched her face. “Do you have it here?”

  She nodded and headed for her handbag where she’d placed it before she left Solutions. She opened her purse and pulled out the paper, then returned to Benjamin. “Here.”

  He unfolded the note and skimmed it. “I don’t like this. ‘You’re about to lose what you want.’ That sounds like a reference to Mandy.”

  “I know.” She slid a chair from under the table and sat.

  “We have to call Cortezi.” His eyes caught and held hers. “You should have dropped this off at the public safety building.”

  “I know, but…” She heard her voice fade. What could she tell him? “I just didn’t.”

  “You think it’s a waste of time?”

  She shrugged. “I know they’re doing what they can.”

  “We can’t overlook these e-mails. I’m going to call Hank now.”

  He rose and strode to the telephone. Joanne watched him punch in the numbers from memory. Her mind drifted as she heard his voice. She gathered from the conversation that Cortezi was there. Finally, she heard Benjamin disconnect.

  “They’re already on it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He said they’ve already contacted the e-mail server to trace the address owner.”

  She felt tears growing in her eyes. “It’ll be a relief when this is over.”

  Yet panic set in. If the person who e-mailed and the caller were the same, the police’s inquiries could scare her away. Joanne would never find Mandy. Now she wished she hadn’t told Benjamin about the e-mail.

  He stood behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go sit where we’re comfortable.”

  She agreed, and rose as he pulled out her chair. They walked side by side into the living room. She felt heavy with tension, and she knew he’d noticed when he lifted his hand and massaged the nape of her neck.

  “Feeling better now?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said, enjoying the feeling. But he stopped too soon and crossed the room.

  “I hate to bring this up,” Benjamin said, plopping into a chair.

  She stiffened. “Bring what up?”

  “Things we need to talk about.” His intense gaze shifted, and he focused on the darkness through the window.

  She squirmed, wondering if it was about their relationship. She’d been a mess since he’d come back to Michigan. She couldn’t blame him for needing a break.

  His attention left the window and returned to her. “I’d like to go back over that night.”

  “That night?”

  “The night they died.”

  Her other concern faded. “We’ve already gone over it.”

  “I know, but you’ve suspected all along that something happened, and now I’m beginning to wonder, too.” His lips tightened with his frown. “I admit I doubted your feelings about Mandy for a while, but I was wrong.”

  “I can’t be angry at you for doubting, Benjamin. I know I must have sounded like a woman who’d lost her senses.” She placed her hand against her heart. “But it happened in here. I heard her voice as certain as the sun rises. I know it’s off the wall, but it’s what I believe.”

  “So let’s go back to that night.” His eyes searched hers.

  “If you think it’s important.”

  “Can you tell me what you remember?”

  Joanne forced her mind back to that horrifying night. “We’d gone out to dinner and a movie. The teen I usually had come to sit had a date, so we asked a lady from the church. She has kids of her own so we dropped Mandy there. She lives off of Moross, not too far from the Coast Guard Pier.”

  “So you went to dinner and a movie. Why weren’t you with Greg when he picked up Mandy?”

  “It was late, and we passed the house on the way to the sitter’s, so Greg suggested I go inside and he’d go alone.” She felt her stomach chur
n. “It was the worse decision I ever made in my life.”

  “No, Joanne. It was a natural decision, and remember, you would have died, too, and if somehow Mandy is alive, you wouldn’t be here for her. God has His reasons for things happening as they do.”

  Sadness darkened his face. “The car went off the road on Lakeshore Drive.”

  “Yes. Not too far from the War Memorial. It had been slippery that night. Black ice. It’s dangerous along Lakeshore Drive. The wind comes off the lake and there’s nothing to block it.”

  “And according to the police, Greg lost control and skidded off the road.”

  Joanne remembered asking them that question, over and over. “They said it wasn’t uncommon. They’ve put up that low curb as a barricade, but it doesn’t stop cars from losing control and going into the lake.”

  “No other car tracks?”

  “By the time the police got there, a couple of cars had stopped because they saw the headlights reflecting through the water.” The memory caught in Joanne’s chest, and she couldn’t speak. “The snow was falling heavy by then, and they found nothing unusual. The police called it an accident.”

  Benjamin stared downward, then raised his eyes to hers. “But you think differently?”

  “I don’t know anymore, Benjamin. I can’t imagine how it would have happened otherwise, but I’m not willing to say for sure.”

  Benjamin rose and came to her side. He eased down on the chair arm beside her and took her hands. “You said a while ago that you wondered if Mandy had been in the car. Why did you say that?”

  Again, she tensed. “I don’t know. It’s the whole situation. The seat belt unbuckled. I said it before—Greg wouldn’t have let her ride without her seat belt, and I don’t think Mandy would unhook it even if she knew how. We explained to her about safety. She was young, but she was—”

  “A really good kid,” Benjamin said.

  The tremor in his voice took Joanne’s breath away. “Why are you asking me all of this? You heard it all when it happened.”