Amber Alert: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 1)

by Linda K. Rodante

  John shrugged. “You think I should?” He swung around, striding to the other end of the office. “It’s been three years.”

  “Yes.”

  John stopped. A muscle bulged in his jaw. “You think I should forgive him.”

  “You should have forgiven him a long time ago.”

  Chapter 5

  Marci’s voice sounded broken, and a baby’s cry rose in the background.

  Sharee’s heart stuttered. Not again. “Marci, what does it say?”

  “It’s a printout of a Wikipedia site entitled “Child Mortality.” Who…whoever sent it highlighted all the reasons that babies under the age of five die.”

  Sharee drew in her breath and gripped the phone tighter. “This has got to stop. You should call the police.”

  “I…I haven’t told Stephen yet.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Well, we argued so much during the pregnancy that…I…I didn’t want him to say I was hysterical.”

  “Hysterical? Why would he say that?”

  “He thinks I’ve been hormonal this time. I’m so wound up.”

  “These ridiculous notes would upset anyone.”

  “Yeah.” Quiet followed.

  “Marci? Is there something else?”

  “I can’t talk now, Sharee. You’re at work. I’ll start crying again. Besides, I can hear Joshua in the bedroom. I have to go.”

  Sharee breathed out her frustration. “All right, but call me later.”

  “I’ll try, Sharee. You know how hectic it gets around here.”

  “I know. I wish I could be there.”

  “I hear Joshua again. Thanks for letting me cry all over you.”

  “I only wish I was there so you could. Oops, I hear him, now, too. Okay. Talk to you later.”

  ~.~.~

  Marci and Joshua weren’t in church, but the rest of the family was, taking up a whole row as usual. Sharee smiled down the row at each one before asking Stephen about Marci.

  “She seemed a little down on Friday when we talked. Is she doing okay?”

  “She’s fine. Just new mother stuff, tired, a little overwhelmed. Neither of us is getting any younger, so it takes more out of us. At least, the older ones help with the younger ones now.”

  Sharee nodded and moved to her seat. Surely, if Marci told him about the notes, Stephen would understand. New mother stuff, maybe, but when someone harassed you with nasty notes, you had a right to be upset.

  She sat and listened as the worship songs started, and then she bowed her head and prayed. Warmth flooded through her. God was in control. He’d use whatever was going on for good.

  When church ended, she headed for the parking lot but caught sight of John’s truck in the field. A trailer attached to the back held stacks of wood. More wood rested in groups on the ground. He lifted a board from the trailer and placed it with others.

  How can I tell him what he’s missing, Lord? She walked toward him, praying under her breath.

  John glanced her way, grabbed a two-by-four and set it on his shoulder. He looked her way again before setting it down near others of the same length.

  Sunlight brightened the large pine nearby and painted its needles with liquid gold. The wind whipped past, and Sharee slid a hand down her thigh, holding her dress in place.

  “Hi.”

  He straightened. “Hi.” His gaze dropped then rose. A smile appeared. “Well…don’t you look different.”

  She remembered her comment from the other day and ducked her head. “You don’t forget much, do you?”

  His smile broadened, but he didn’t answer, just waved a hand at the area they had roped off the other day. “I measured the space we’ll need for the bleachers, and I think we’ve got the angle right, but that can be adjusted if needed.”

  “I didn’t expect you to be working on Sunday.”

  “It’s as good a time as any for me.”

  “John, you know…” Her tone must have warned him, because she saw him stiffen, eyes narrowing. She hesitated but started again, “Do you ever wonder—”

  “No.”

  The one syllable said everything she needed to hear. She sighed. He wasn’t interested in talking about God today. She’d have to pray for an opening another time.

  “Okay. Have you had lunch? I’d be glad to run pick something up for you.” A movement to her side caused her to glance down. She did a quick side-step.

  Black liquid eyes stared up at her. Not Cooper’s, another dog. A puppy. The inquisitive brown face seemed to smile at her. A wet, cold nose touched her knee. She retreated once more, but her heart warmed at the small dog’s expression.

  John leaned down, took hold of the collar and tugged the puppy away from her.

  Matthew Thornton’s voice came from the parking lot. “Sampson! Come here!”

  Sharee watched Matthew run their way. Ryann, Abbey, and another boy followed close behind.

  “Thank you, Mr. J.” Matthew reached for the dog. “He’s gotten away a couple of times. I’ve chased him all over.”

  “He’s enjoying the weather.” John let loose of the collar. “But your uncle’s farm would be his place of choice, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Matthew scratched behind the dog’s ear and clicked a leash on him. The dog’s tail wagged.

  “And where is he during church?”

  The others laughed, and Matthew sent them a sideways glance. “Well, we take turns walking him during the service.”

  “A reason to slip out, huh?”

  “Yeah.” Matthew gave him a conspiratorial wink.

  “When did you get him?” Sharee asked.

  “Just this past week. Mom finally gave in.” He shot a look at John. “Our uncle’s dog had a litter of puppies, so we had our choice.”

  John ran his hand along the puppy’s back. “I’m sure this is the pick of the litter then.”

  Matthew nodded and glanced at Ryann. “Come on, we better cut out if you want to babysit Joshua.”

  The teens turned and zigzagged their way to the parking lot, the puppy running ahead, his enthusiasm curtailed by the leash.

  Sharee watched until they disappeared. “Are Matt and Ryann going out?”

  “I think it’s more friendship right now.”

  She rubbed her arms, tilted her head, and studied him. “I heard you were helping with the youth the last couple of months. In fact, I heard some stories about you and some of the pranks the youth pulled lately.”

  “All lies, I’m sure.”

  “Are they?” She let her tone indicate what she thought of that. “Then you didn’t help them pull those pranks on the College and Career group?”

  He smiled but remained silent.

  “I happened to be at the end of one of their pranks the other day.”

  “I heard.” Amusement now.

  Sharee eyed him suspiciously. “I get even.”

  He raised a brow but said nothing more.

  She stared past him to where the teens disappeared. “I wonder what goes on in Abbey’s life. She’s so serious and unhappy.”

  “True, but Ryann’s stepped up. Offered her friendship.”

  “Yeah.” Sharee smiled. So like Ryann. Her hand slid down to the skirt of her dress again. The breeze tugged at it.

  “Having trouble with the dress?”

  Sharee gathered the skirt tighter. “Yes.” Warmth rose in her cheeks as she struggled to keep it from flying up.

  His mouth opened then closed, and he turned abruptly to the trailer, reaching for another two-by-four.

  “I offered to pick up some lunch for you. What would you like?”

  He hefted the board. “Feeling guilty that you’re not working?”

  “No. But I appreciate the fact that you are. On your day off. Thank you.” There. She’d done it right this time.

  He turned back to her. “You’re welcome.”

  His smile brou
ght a returning one from her. Why had she thought him standoffish? “Something for lunch?”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine. I won’t be much longer. I need to take Cooper for a run.” His gaze dropped to her dress again. “If you brought a change of clothes, you could come with us. I’ll hold Cooper back to accommodate your stride.”

  “You’ll hold Cooper back?” Her confusion morphed to irritation and extinguished the warmth she felt. “Are you taking pot shots at my height again?”

  The light in his eyes made her scowl.

  “That is just…so…Ah! Get your own lunch!” She whirled and marched back toward her car.

  His laughter followed her.

  ~.~.~

  Sharee decided to take off early from work after seeing John in the field the day before. If he could spend extra time working on the project, she could, too. Things would get busy at work as soon as cold weather swept in. An exodus of homeless from up north making their way to Florida would keep their office as full and crammed together as a bait ball. Then her extra time would be nil.

  She pulled into the back parking lot at church and looked around. No John. So she headed for the work buildings. Sounds of metal and grinding came from behind them. She rounded the corner and saw a number of large metal boxes set on work tables.

  John tilted a head at her with a brow raised.

  “Thought I’d come to help you work on the Christmas project.” She looked at the metal units set on the tables. “Those look like air conditioners to me. Of course, it could be hot in December. I guess we could attach them to the bleachers.”

  He gave a wry smile, acknowledging her attempt at humor. “Alan is hoping I can keep these antiques running for another year. It’s cheaper to run these in each classroom than to redo the whole building with central air. Of course, the classrooms are as old as the air conditioners. One more year before he’ll let me do anything about that.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ll get your project done. Don’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t. I just thought I could be of some help.”

  “We discussed getting aluminum bleachers, but they’re more than Alan wants to pay. I went online and found some plans for wooden, portable bleachers eight seats high. I’ve ordered two of those.” He reached for a rag and began to wipe down some of the tools. “Do you have a guess at the number of people you might expect—for one evening?”

  Sharee propped herself on an end of the table. “It’s hard to say. Maybe two hundred people each night? That’s what we’d like. We’re planning on two Saturday nights.”

  “Two hundred? That will be close.” He finished with the tools and pulled a blue tarp over the air conditioners. “Look, I’m almost through here. I’m planning on going for a run. Want to come?”

  “With you? After that remark yesterday?”

  One side of his mouth hitched. “If I promise not to—what was it you said—bait you?”

  She crossed her arms and studied him. Run with him? She glanced around. And the dog?

  “You’re already dressed. Your jeans and Nikes are fine.”

  She frowned. “I don’t think so. I’m not a long-distance runner.”

  “We won’t go far.” He straightened. “Unless you lied about that, too.”

  “About what?’

  “Running.”

  She made a face at him. “No, I didn’t lie.”

  “How far do you run?”

  “Two or three miles. But I don’t usually run in jeans.”

  “You’re fine. It’s a short run. The back road goes down to the Gulf. It’s a little over a mile. We can go there and back.”

  “With the dog?”

  “He’s not here today.”

  “Oh.”

  He shook his head. “He’s a pussycat.”

  “Yes, well, you said that. We’ll see. No comments about my height?”

  “I promise. Warm up. I’ll put the tools up and lock the buildings.” He was striding away from her before she could say more.

  Sharee stared after him, irritated at his assumption; but a moment later, she began to stretch.

  Fifteen minutes after that, she realized just what a difference their heights—and her stride—did make. She forced herself to a faster pace than usual, but John loped beside her, a greyhound to her cocker spaniel.

  They passed houses and parked cars along the tree-lined street. As they went by a small, forest-green house, a large pit bull hurled itself against a fence. Sharee jerked to a stop, heart pounding. The dog leaped against the fence again, barking ferociously.

  “You’re safe. He’s behind the fence.” John caught her arm and urged her on. “Once we pass, he’ll calm down. He’s been here a few months. Always outside when the Dodge van’s there. Inside, I think, when the owner is gone. It’s quiet on those days.”

  She slid a glance his way. “You must jog here often.”

  “About once a week. Near home, at Howard Park, most of the time.”

  Sharee nodded. They finished the first mile in silence. What a difference—jogging with someone. By herself, the time dragged. And she never felt safe listening to music. She needed to know what was going on around her. What was going on here? He’d asked her to jog. Did that mean anything? No. It couldn’t. He’d planned on jogging, anyway. He was just being nice. His manners again.

  She shot a sideways glance in his direction. It didn’t matter—that light in his eyes, the smile, the deep set eyes. He wasn’t a believer. Nothing would go on here.

  They stopped before a cluster of sea oats and sea grapes on a small, undeveloped portion of land. Sharee welcomed a moment to get her breath, and she tried to catch a glimpse of the water. The foliage in front of them blocked the view. On both sides of the vacant lot, houses rose three stories. Their decks fronted the Gulf of Mexico. Sunset streaked the sky in pink and melon and orange. Half-hidden by the horizon, the sun thrust light fingers upward.

  “I love the sunsets here.”

  He made a rumbled sound of agreement. “The east coast has beautiful sunrises, but the sunsets here are incredible.”

  She nodded, breathing normally again.

  “Ready to head back?”

  “Yes, but you go ahead. I know I’m holding you back. You’re not getting out of this as much as you wanted.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I am.” A smile played across his face, but his eyes were on the road.

  Sharee frowned, not sure of his meaning.

  As they ran by the forest-green house, she noticed that the van had disappeared and so had the dog. John had gauged that correctly.

  Long, slanting shadows painted their way across the road, and the sky began its transformation from papaya to gray. A few minute later, they jogged onto the church grounds.

  John pointed to his truck. “I’ve got water in a cooler.”

  They stopped in front of it, and he reached inside and took out two water bottles. “Here.”

  Sharee paced up and down, breathing hard. She took the bottle but gave him an inquiring look. “Thanks.”

  “What?” He fell into step beside her.

  “I just wondered how long this…truce…would last.”

  “Truce?”

  “Yeah, truce. Whatever.”

  “Well, it proved harder than expected.”

  “Did it?”

  His mouth lifted. “Exercise in restraint. Good for the soul.”

  “Something you’re not used to?”

  She got a sideways look.

  Her walking slowed. “The sun’s going down. I guess I’d better head home. I enjoyed the run.”

  He stopped and appeared to struggle with something he wanted to say.

  “Exercise in restraint?” she asked.

  “Okay, that’s two snide remarks from you. All promises are canceled.”

  “But I’ve got to leave, anyway.” She flashed him a grin, waved the bottle at him and moved toward her
SUV. “Thanks for the exercise and the water.”

  He lifted his in salute.

  “Sharee!” Marci’s voice high and abrupt stopped her in her tracks. “Wait!”

  She twisted around. Light spilled from the window of the fellowship hall, and Marci ran through it.

  “Look at this!” The new mother carried a doll, holding it away from her body. When she stopped in front of Sharee, she thrust the doll at her.

  In the fading light, Sharee could see dark gouged eyes and a slit throat.

  Chapter 6

  “Look at it!” Marci’s voice shook, her hand trembled.

  Sharee leaned forward. It looked identical to the one she’d picked up in the field. Except red paint coated the throat around the slashed areas. Her stomach knotted.

  “Let me have it, Marci.” John put his hand out and extracted the doll from her shaking fingers. “Where did you find it?”

  “In Joshua’s car seat. I left it on the table in the fellowship hall, and someone put that…that doll in it.” The distress on her face mirrored her voice.

  Sharee glanced at John. This looked like the same doll. Was it? If so, how did it get in Marci’s car seat? What had John done with the other one?

  She touched Marci’s shoulder. “It’s someone’s stupid idea of a joke.” But as she said it, her eyes met John’s.

  “A joke?” Marci’s voice rose. “This is not a joke!”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Well, if I find out who did it…”

  “Where’s Joshua?”

  Marci’s eyes widened. “He’s with Ryann and Abbey. The girls went for a walk with him. Why?”

  “Nothing. Just wondering. You found it in the car seat?”

  “Yes. I brought Mary for drama practice, and I have to bring Joshua because I’m nursing.”

  “Did you bring any of the other children?”

  “Yes, Deborah and Elizabeth, but they’re with Mary and the other girls in the youth room.”

  “You probably don’t want the girls to see this.” John indicated the doll. “I’ll put it somewhere out of sight.”

  Marci nodded. “Yes, the younger girls would be upset.” As John walked away, she looked at Sharee. “You think it’s a prank?”

  “Yes. Mean and thoughtless, but a prank.” She put her arm around the other woman’s shoulder, and they walked toward fellowship hall.