Connor McDonald gave a sympathetic smile. “I came to lend some moral support to Leah and Mark. To see if there’s anything I can do. And to see you, of course. This can’t be easy for you either. Did you get any sleep last night?”
“Not much, but I’m OK. Actually, a little better than OK. Turns out forgiveness is good for the soul.”
“So is being forgiven. Thank you.”
Ashamed of the bitterness and anger she’d harbored for so long, Danica shook her head. “I should have done it a long time ago. For both of us.”
“It’s over now.” He held up a huge box of doughnuts. “I brought food.”
She opened the door wider. “You and everybody else. Of course, that’s good. Believe me, the food is getting eaten. I’ll put it out in the kitchen. Thanks.” She held out her hand for the box. “Now that you’ve had time to think, are you sure there isn’t something familiar about the woman Leah described? I’m sure she’s connected to your church in some way. She has to be.”
He stomped his feet, ridding his boots of snow. “I wish I did, but I don’t know anyone who fits that description. After you left last night, I read through the membership rolls, past and present as well as every guest we have record of. Not a single person matched the description. I’m sorry, Dani.”
“Danica. The name’s Danica.” She motioned toward Leah and turned back to Connor. “She’s practically catatonic. I don’t know what to do for her. Maybe you can pray with her.”
“I can do that.”
Danica nodded and walked away. She had no desire to hear what he would say to her sister. And absolutely no curiosity about Connor McDonald. His life had nothing to do with hers.
She was glad she’d forgiven him. God had been right—as always. It was time. And in spite of the horrible circumstances, she felt a difference in her spirit. And she had a secret—the blinking cross. She was sure God would bring Angelica home—soon. But that was a secret she would keep to herself.
She walked out to the kitchen with the box of doughnuts. The coffeepot was empty. Again. Maybe she should go to the store and buy an industrial-sized coffeemaker. Oh, yeah right. Go to the store on Christmas Eve.
Tears leaked out.
It wasn’t fair. Their Christmas had been stolen by some stranger.
Have faith.
The blinking cross filled her vision as it had before. God would work this out. That was His promise in Romans 8:28. And He was faithful to His word—always. He would keep Angelica safe until they could find her and bring her home. Anger surged for the person who’d stolen Angelica. Why would someone do such a thing, if not for money?
“Can I help?”
Connor’s voice brought her back to her task. Her hand was in mid-air with the coffee scoop suspended. How long had she been standing that way?
He reached for the scoop.
She could feel his body next to hers. It was like a magnet drawing her closer. “I can do it.” Her tone was harsher than she’d intended, her mind still on the kidnapper.
His hurt expression was genuine. “You don’t want me to make the coffee?”
Danica wanted his arms around her. The revelation made her angry. That part of her life was over. She had no intention of resurrecting it. She backed away from him, wanting to be out of the magnetic force field he exuded, and met his gaze with as much strength as she could muster. God wanted her to forgive so she would, but apparently forgiveness was a process. Her anger had become a comfortable habit—like a favorite T-shirt. Sorry, God. Help me to do better. She forced a smile. “Sorry, I’m just worried about my niece. I’m not making a whole lot of sense.” She handed him the measuring scoop.
“I don’t blame you for that. We all are. Things like this don’t happen around here. It’s absolutely shocking. And appalling. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in town who spent most of the night praying for Angelica.”
“That will help.”
He nodded. “It will.”
“Why would this happen to Leah and Mark?”
He put the scoop back into the coffee can. “There’s a lot of evil in this world, Dani…ca. I don’t really know myself except that we live in a fallen world. And God’s given all of us free will. Some people use it for good and others don’t.”
She wiped at tears she hadn’t even known were falling until one splashed on her hand. “I guess. It’s just…so hard…and unfair. Are you sure you can’t think of anyone who fits the description of the kidnapper?”
“No. All the women involved are older, mostly retired.”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. That’s what I was trying to think of last night. Leah said the woman was young. Early twenties. Maybe she knew so much about the program because she’s a recent mother. Maybe she’s not a volunteer but a new mother the group helped. Maybe she…she lost her baby or something.”
He processed the idea, mulling it over. ”Maybe … you’re on to something. That could be a possibility.”
8
“We have an idea,” Danica addressed the FBI agent.
Agent Fellers looked exhausted. She hadn’t left the house nor taken a break since arriving yesterday. She held up a finger, and finished talking on the phone. Clicking it off, she looked at Danica. “What’s your idea?”
“What if the woman, the kidnapper, actually used the services of Mothers’ Helpers? She’s too young to be one of the volunteers, but she might be one of the new mothers they helped.”
“I suppose it’s possible, but I doubt it. Why would a new mother take someone else’s baby?” She shook her head but looked at Connor. “Aren’t most of the new mothers from your church? That’s what the sheriff told us. It’s just a very local group.”
“That’s true but—”
“That’s good enough for me.” She looked back at Danica. “I don’t have resources to go off on a wild goose chase, but we’ll look into it as soon as we are able.” Her phone buzzed. “I need to take this but thanks for the suggestion. If you have any more, let me know. I’m willing to listen to any of them.” She turned away from Danica and began talking to the person on the other end.
“I guess she didn’t like your idea.” Connor said with a smile. “I mean our idea.”
“She’s probably right. And maybe she can’t go on a wild goose chase at this moment, but that doesn’t mean I can’t. I’ve got nothing better to do. Can you give me a list of the volunteers, the recipients, and their phone numbers?”
“Why?”
“So I can call them.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” she asked. “I just want to know if they—”
“I know what you want to do. But that is private information, and I’m not sure about giving it out freely. I’ll be the one to call them. I think it’ll work better if someone they know talks with them instead of a stranger.”
“Oh.” Her anger deflated. “I suppose you’re right.”
He grinned. “I’ll bet it hurt to say that.”
“Did not.” She walked over to Leah and sat down on the sofa. She picked up her sister’s hand, but Leah didn’t seem to notice. “Leah.”
Her sister looked at her.
“Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Want some eggs or toast? Or a doughnut?”
“I couldn’t eat.”
Danica felt the same way. “I know, but you can’t let yourself get sick. You need to be strong and healthy so that when Angelica comes home, you can take care of her.”
Her sister’s gaze seemed to come into focus. “Do you really think that’ll happen? Do you think they’ll find Angelica?”
Danica thought of the blinking cross. “I do, sweetie. I really do. Everyone’s working so hard to get her back. And God is keeping her safe. I just know it.”
“I hope you’re right.” Her voice was listless—hopeless.
“So, let’s get some food in you, OK?”
“Maybe later.”
“I’ll ch
eck back with you.” Danica walked into the kitchen, pulled open a drawer, and retrieved a tablet and a pen.
Connor was right behind her. She wished he wasn’t quite so close. “Let’s get started in the dining room.” Between the FBI agents and the state police, there was no privacy in the living room.
“OK.”
“I’m getting a glass of juice. Do you want some?”
“Sounds good.”
She opened the refrigerator. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at the turkey. Tomorrow would be Christmas. She bit down on her lip. There’d be no turkey, no smiles, nothing until Angelica came home. A Christmas stolen. But God had promised her…hadn’t He? The cross blinked inside her mind. She needed to have faith in that promise.
She grabbed the juice and two glasses then made her way to the dining room.
Connor was already on the phone.
She poured the orange juice into the glasses.
“Strike one.” He said as he clicked off. He took a sip. “Thanks. Onto number two.”
“Who are you calling?”
“I thought I’d start with the volunteers. If none of them have any suggestions, then we’ll call the mothers. I hate to upset all of them if we don’t have to.” He went back to scrolling through his phone list and punching buttons.
Danica half listened as he spoke with the woman. Her mind slipped back to the past, but she slammed that door shut. Nothing productive could come from visiting the old hurts—or even the good memories. They were working together to find Angelica. Nothing more. Forgiving Connor was a good thing but a relationship, or even a friendship, was out of the question.
“Strike two. Hopefully, the third time will be a charm.” Connor scrolled down and pressed on a name. “Marge, this is Connor. I need to ask you a few questions about Mothers’ Hel—yes, it’s true. I can’t believe it either.” Just as he’d had to do on the previous calls, he spent valuable time soothing the woman before he could get to the crux of the matter.
Connor smiled at her as he patiently listened to whatever Marge was saying. “Marge, I’m not calling about that. I need to know if any of the new mothers you worked with weren’t from the church. Someone you didn’t know.” He waited for a response. “OK. That’s interesting. I’ll call Martha McKay. Thanks.” He clicked off the phone.
“What’s interesting?”
“Marge said that one of the other ladies worked with a new mother who wasn’t from the area but was living with some relative a while back.”
“Martha McKay?”
“I didn’t say that.” He shook his head. “Or at least I didn’t mean to say that. I’ll have to go check the records at the church, but the young mother was staying with her aunt.”
“That’s fine.” Danica actually knew the McKays. Sandy McKay had been a friend. Martha was her mother. Danica had been to the house many times.
“Let me call the volunteer who worked with her then we can go from there.”
“Why not just talk to the aunt directly?”
“I believe we should talk with the church volunteer first. See what she has to say about the young mother.”
Danica stood up. “OK, you do that. I have something I need to do.”
9
Danica bundled up and walked out into the weather. It was still cold but at least the snow had stopped. Lots of kids would be excited with the beautiful snowfall, but for her, it was an annoyance. Because of all the hoopla, she’d moved her car down the street to Clara’s drive. The sweet woman had assured Danica it wasn’t a problem since she rarely drove anymore because of her disease. Danica had never heard of it before but it sounded awful from Clara’s description.
“Any news?” A male reporter from a Cleveland station pushed a microphone at her.
She kept walking but then stopped and turned toward him. The press served a function. Reminding the public of Angelica’s kidnapping could help. Mark and Leah only needed one person to see the broadcast and call in if they had information. “No. Nothing new to report.”
“Do you think the FBI’s doing all they can?”
“I certainly do, and we’re so grateful for them and all the people helping with the search. The police are following up every lead. Please keep praying for Baby Angelica. I’m sure it won’t be long until she’s back home.”
“Who—”
She held up a hand. “Sorry, I really do have to go.” Danica hurried down the street to her car, hoping Connor didn’t figure out she’d left. Being around him was just too hard—even if she had forgiven him. She was working on the anger and bitterness, but the hurt remained. Her life might have been completely different if he’d believed her instead of Willie. They might be happily married—and have their own children. Could have—might have…as if any of that mattered now.
Angelica was still kidnapped.
Tears filled her eyes as she jumped in her car and started the motor. She was supposed to let the car warm up first, but Connor might figure out what she was doing and stop her. She wanted to talk to Martha McKay alone. After all, she’d known Danica for years. Navigating the familiar yet unfamiliar streets was tricky with the snow. Memory kept her moving toward the McKay house. She hoped.
The house came into view.
Danica pulled in the driveway. Could Martha have moved sometime in the past twelve years? She stared at the house. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. She opened the car door and stepped out into the freezing Ohio winter. Stomping her feet to stay warm, she pushed the doorbell.
The door opened. Martha McKay stared at her—a little older than the last time Danica had seen her. “Hi, Mrs. McKay, you may not remember me. I’m Danica Jordan.”
“Of course I remember you, dear. Come in.” She opened the screen door. “It’s freezing out there.”
“Thanks.” Danica stepped inside.
“I heard about Leah’s baby. It’s all over the news. It’s so horrible. I can’t believe that could happen here in our little town.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but someone told me that your niece had a baby and Mothers’ Helpers aided her the first month.”
“They were so helpful. Even got her some donated things like a baby crib and diapers and such since she doesn’t have much money. But what does that have to do with Leah’s baby?”
“I need to talk to your niece.”
“Why?”
“I just want to ask her a few questions. About Mothers’ Helpers.” That was vague. She added, “To see if she knows something…anything that might help us find the baby.”
“I don’t think she’d be much help. That was two months ago, and besides, her baby died. It’s so sad.” Martha’s eyes filled with tears, but she wiped them away.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. That is heartbreaking. Is she doing OK now?”
“Yes, she seems to be.”
Could Martha’s niece want another baby? It wouldn’t be the first time a grieving mother took drastic measures to deny the truth of losing a child.
“Did the baby…did it happen here?”
“No, Katrina and the baby stayed with me for a while, but then she went back to Akron. That’s where she lives. That’s where her job is. The baby died a week or so ago. I’m not exactly sure when. The doctors said it was SIDS.”
“That is so sad.” A week ago? Could Katrina be so distraught that she decided to steal Angelica? “But I’d still like to talk to her.”
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It would only make her feel worse. I’m so worried about her. She’s not answering her phone.”
“I have to go to Akron anyway. Why don’t you give me her address, and I’ll check on her while I’m there?”
Martha McKay’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t try to con an old lady, Danica Jordan. Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
A sense of shame welled in Danica’s mind, but she decided
to throw herself on Martha’s mercy. “I’m trying to help my sister. Leah said it was a young woman in her early twenties. The woman said she was from Mothers’ Helpers. I’m just checking on any young women who might have some connection to Mothers’ Helpers. I’m not accusing Katrina, but she might know something and not even realize it.”
“It kind of sounds as if you are.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
“Katrina is a sweet girl. She’s been through some rough times and made a few mistakes, but she’d never take someone else’s baby. Besides, I don’t think she’s there. She stopped taking my phone calls. She wouldn’t even let us pay for a funeral. My sister is heart-broken over the whole thing.”
“I can imagine. Why don’t you give me her phone number?” Danica tried to smile but couldn’t. “I’m desperate, Mrs. McKay. Please? For Angelica?”
“She’s not answering the phone, not even from her own mother. We wanted to check on her but the storm changed our plans. It will have to wait for a few more days.”
“If you give me her address I’ll check on her for you. I’ll just ask if she perhaps told someone about Mothers’ Helpers who showed undue interest. And I can make sure she’s all right so you can stop worrying about her. “
Mrs. McKay stared at her for a few moments and then gave a slight nod. “Fine. Let me write down her address. Maybe you can tell her to answer the phone. We’re very worried about her.”
“I will certainly do that.”
“She had some trouble with drugs a while back, and we’re just afraid losing the baby might be too much stress for her.” She wrote something down and handed the note to Danica.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. McKay.”
“I know she didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“I’m sure you’re absolutely right. I’ll let her know you’re worried about her and ask her to call you.”
“Thank you.” Martha McKay was obviously not happy with her.
That made Danica anxious. She cast about for something to say. “How’s Sandy doing?”
A Christmas Stolen (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza) Page 5