“Get in,” he said.
She climbed in, dropped her backpack by her feet and closed the door. “Where’s Mom?” she repeated.
He bit the edge of his lip. “She went on a trip.”
“No,” Connie whined.
“Whatcha mean, no?”
“She promised to take me on a trip.”
Carl knew she immediately had second thoughts about telling him, but it was too late. “Really,” he said, “and where were you going?”
“Florida. To Disney—”
Carl let out a guffaw. “And I wasn’t invited?”
“You have to work all the time,” Connie said. She paused, then added, “Mom wouldn’t go away without me.”
“But she did.”
He watched the child’s face crumple, and tears edge her eyes.
“Stop whining. You’re going on a trip, too. She even packed your clothes.”
Connie’s head jerked upward. “Going where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Her eyes widened but they held a shadow of disbelief.
“I want to go with Mom.”
Carl didn’t bother to answer as his thoughts scuffled from one problem to another.
Chapter Fourteen
Joanne sat alone in her living room, watching the snow fall outside her window. The Christmas tree sat in darkness. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights they’d strung along its branches, so only one ornament clung to a top branch. She hadn’t had the strength to add the rest of the trimmings.
Tension pulled at every fiber of her being. She feared the woman had been frightened away, even though Joanne had hidden her actions from Benjamin and hadn’t notified the police. She must have done something to cause the caller to renege on their agreement after they’d established the time and place.
Grief had returned. Mandy had seemed only an arm’s length away, and now, after Joanne had returned home from her useless venture, hope had vanished like the snowdrifts that formed piles along the roadside one day and were gone the next with the sun.
Life sometimes seemed not worth the effort, and yet Joanne knew it was. She had a lifetime to live. She could even have another child. But the thought pressed against her as weighty as her grief. Now wasn’t the time to think about another child. Joanne wanted the one she’d had six years ago.
Rising, she stood near the chair and gazed through the front window at the darkening sky, pondering what to do. Should she admit her actions to Benjamin? He would be upset, she realized, but how could she keep it from him? He read her behavior so easily.
The truth had to be told, she warned herself, and having made that decision, she left the window and crumpled into the chair, closing her eyes and giving way to exhaustion. She felt the dampness of tears pooling on her lashes. Her sorrow had returned with its relentless attack on her heart.
Joanne needed faith, and hers had dimmed like stars hidden behind the winter clouds. Her expectations sank into a dark abyss.
Now she pleaded with God. He’d promised her comfort? She had none. He had promised to lift her on eagles’ wings? She felt abandoned. If she could only hear one word of assurance, one whisper of hope…
Joanne leaned back against the chair cushion. Behind her lids, the recent photograph of Mandy rose—the child’s faint smile, sadness in her eyes.
“Why?” Joanne cried aloud. “Why did this happen?” She slammed her fist against the chair arm, then covered her face with her hands.
A thud came from outside—the closing of a car door. Benjamin. She’d come to know the sound that brought peace to her heart, but tonight she doubted anything could alleviate her sadness.
She heard his rap against the door—he never rang the bell anymore—and she rose to answer it. When she pulled open the door, she watched his smile fade. He stepped inside and paused, looking at her.
“Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. I know something’s going on.”
As he slipped his arm around her shoulders, she fought the need to tell the truth, but she knew it wasn’t worth the hurt to Benjamin and the pain she would suffer dealing with it alone.
“I’ve done something stupid,” she said, moving away from him and reaching for his jacket.
He removed it, his eyes never leaving hers. “What have you done?”
She hung his jacket on the closet doorknob as he did so often, then went ahead of him into the living room and settled into a chair before speaking.
His eyes widened as she told him the story, and he shook his head.
“Never, ever do anything like that again, Joanne,” he said, his volume rising with alarm. “You could have gotten yourself killed. Don’t you realize that?”
“I didn’t think.” She wouldn’t hold back anymore. “Sometimes I don’t care, Benjamin. Sometimes life doesn’t seem worth living.”
He gripped her shoulders and leaned toward her. “Please, Joanne, don’t say that. Do you hear me?”
She nodded, alarmed by his vehemence.
“I can’t believe you would say such a thing,” he said, his voice softening. “You’re a Christian woman. You know you have a whole life ahead of you. This has been a fork in the road—perhaps one you shouldn’t have followed. It’s done nothing but open you up for disappointment and despair.”
“I know, but what can I do. Mandy isn’t your child. You have no idea how I feel—”
“Please, don’t even go there.” He backed away and caved into the sofa cushion. “No, Mandy isn’t my child, nor could she ever be, but I loved her very much. I know it’s different, but I loved her parents with every ounce of my being. I’d give my life to bring her back, Joanne.”
His admission touched her.
“I would die to bring Mandy back, just to know it would make you smile the way you used to.”
He’d knocked the wind from her, and like a pricked balloon, she suddenly felt empty and shallow.
“Life is difficult,” he continued. “I said this before. God doesn’t promise us moonlight and roses. He’s given us free will to make choices. Some people choose evil, and some choose good. Sometimes good people are hurt while bad people go free. We’re not puppets, bouncing around at God’s whim. He’s given us options to make what we can of our lives and to love Him without question.”
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s like marriage—for better or worse—a love that doesn’t fail when hard times come.”
Shame burned inside her. “I’m sorry, Benjamin. You’re right.”
“It’s not right or wrong, Joanne. It’s truth. Take God’s gift of free will, but don’t condemn Him for human failure. You have a life ahead of you if you’ll only live it. Let go of the past. Not Mandy. Never let go of her memory, but you must face the truth. This whole thing is probably a hoax.”
His words pierced her heart, but she knew he was being honest. “What I did was stupid, but I wanted to find her. That’s all I could think of. I knew you’d stop me or the police would. I couldn’t take that chance—” She faltered realizing what she had forgotten to tell him. “And now I have a photograph of Mandy.”
His back stiffened. “You what?”
“The woman slipped it into my Christmas packages at the café at the mall.”
A scowl crossed his face. “And you didn’t tell me?”
She cringed, regretting that she’d kept it from him. “I didn’t find the photo until last night and I knew you’d stop me.”
“You’ve got that right.” He gazed out the window, disappointment darkening his face. “If she’s alive, we’ll find her, but we need help—God’s help and an authority who can act. We can do nothing on our own.” He paused, his head hanging as if he suffered with her. “Do you still have the photograph?”
She nodded. “I think I left it in my coat pocket.” She dragged herself out to the foyer and retrieved the photo from her coat pocket, then returned.
When she handed him the photo, she sank beside him on the sofa. She heard
his intake of breath as he gazed at the child’s image. He stared for a long time and didn’t speak as he studied her face. Tears rimmed his lashes, and Joanne had to fight the urge to wrap her arms around him.
“She looks just like you, Joanne.” His voice was a whisper. “This is Mandy—” He choked on the words. Then he turned and drew Joanne into his arms. “Dear Lord. This is in Your hands.”
She felt him shudder, his strength seeming to flee as the truth set in. When he let her go, he turned again to the picture.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t. It’s her. I have no doubt.”
“Are you sure, Benjamin? I’ve questioned my judgment, but my heart tells me it’s her.”
“We must call Hank, Joanne. Please don’t fight me on this.”
Joanne raised her fingers and touched the moisture below his eyes. Her lips tingled, and she wanted to kiss away his tears. “I shouldn’t have doubted your wisdom. I’m sorry. I know you loved Mandy, and I know you would tell me to do only what’s best. Why didn’t I listen to you?”
“Listen now. That’s all that matters.” He brought her hand to his lips.
Her pulse fluttered as his warm mouth caressed her fingers. “I’m listening. Give him a call. See what he wants us to do.”
He held her hand for a moment longer, then released it and rose. She saw his weariness, so like hers, as he headed for the kitchen phone. She didn’t have the heart to follow. Benjamin had been right all along. She could ask God for help, but she had to listen to His instructions. Instead she’d fought what she needed to do. The authorities were trained to find a missing child. Too much was at stake for her to try to find Mandy herself.
When she heard Benjamin hang up the phone, Joanne rose and strode to the kitchen. He stood leaning back against the kitchen counter. His hand still gripping the telephone on the cradle.
“What did he say?”
“He’s coming here. I hope that’s okay.”
She nodded. “It’s fine. When?”
“Right away. I’m glad he’s on tonight.”
She was, too. Feeling that she was operating on automatic pilot, Joanne pulled coffee from the cabinet and spooned grounds into the coffeemaker. In the movies detectives always drank coffee.
“Did you eat?” Benjamin asked, pulling away from the cabinet. “You’re looking more thin every day.”
No, she hadn’t eaten—the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. She shrugged. “Food seems unimportant. My thoughts are filled with other things.”
“But you need your strength. Should I order a pizza?”
Pizza? She usually loved it. Today the thought of it made her feel nauseated. “No. I have some ham and cheese. I can grill a sandwich.”
“How about an omelette?” His smile was tender.
“That’s fine. I’ll make that.”
“I will,” he said. “Just rest.”
He steered her toward a kitchen chair, and she sank into it without an argument.
Benjamin poured two coffees and added some milk to hers before setting a mug in front of her.
She watched him work, pulling out eggs, cracking them into a bowl and whisking them with a fork. His broad back rippled as he beat the eggs. He found the frying pan, dropped in a pat of butter and put the pan on the burner.
Her gaze didn’t shift from him as he diced the ham and onions. When the butter had melted, Benjamin poured in the eggs, mixed them in the pan, then flipped them like a professional. He added the ham, onions and grated cheese from a package, and folded the omelette over.
“You know what you’re doing,” she said, admiring his skill. She also found herself appreciating his good looks. She’d taken his handsomeness for granted. He’d been in her life for so many years, and to her, his presence seemed natural and comfortable. But he was an attractive man.
The aroma drifting from the frying pan mingled with the scent of coffee, and her stomach rumbled. She was hungrier than she’d thought.
Benjamin pulled two plates from the cabinet and split the omelette, putting half on each plate. “We’d better eat this fast or we’ll be sharing it with Hank. He likes his food.”
He slid the plate in front of her along with a fork and paper napkin. She grinned. She loved his taking charge. “It smells wonderful.” She drew in the scent. “I even feel hungry now.”
“Good,” he said, sitting across from her. “May I say the blessing?”
She nodded, grateful that he’d asked. His voice sounded confident and in control as he asked God to bless the food.
“And Lord,” he continued, “if it is Your will, help us to lean on You for our needs. You can do all things for the good of Your children. Father, be with us, and if Mandy is alive, we beg You to be with her. Spread Your mercy and love over her and us as we seek to do Your will. In Jesus’s name, we pray.”
“Amen,” Joanne said. “Thank you so much. Please keep me focused, Benjamin. I count on you to keep my head straight.”
He tilted his head in a silly way. “You need to do the same. I’m no better than you are.”
She smiled, and for the first time that day, she let her fears slip from her mind as she nibbled on the eggs and enjoyed his company.
Minutes later, when they’d placed the plates in the dishwasher, the doorbell rang. Joanne let Benjamin answer while she poured a mug of coffee for the detective. She heard their voices coming from the living room and sensed that she’d made the right decision by allowing Benjamin to call him.
When she joined them and offered the coffee, Hank gave a chuckle. “You’ve seen too much TV,” he said as he accepted the cup. “But you got it right. Black.”
She settled into the chair across from him, and before long, she’d told him everything. He took careful notes. Finally, she showed him the photograph.
“You’re certain this is your daughter?” He eyed her, then stared at the picture. “I can see a resemblance.”
“I’d stake my life on it,” Benjamin said. “I knew Mandy. This is her as sure as I’m sitting here.”
“We need to get this photo on TV,” Hank said. “I’m sure someone will recognize her.”
Joanne’s heart leaped. “Please, don’t do that.”
“Don’t? Why not? We have the Amber Law. I thought you want to find your daughter.”
“But I think she’s in danger.” She explained what she’d heard from the caller. “She said it more than once. She sounded desperate. I’m afraid that whoever has her will do something rash if they know you’re on the trail. Can’t you be covert? That’s the word, isn’t it?”
Hank didn’t answer her but continued to study the photograph.
“Covert is the right word,” Benjamin said in her ear. “I think Joanne’s right, Hank. I trust what she’s saying. Can we give it more time? Can we tap the phone? You know the calls are coming from Dearborn. Could we get a cop to patrol some of the phone booths in the area—to give it more time?”
“You think this woman will call again?”
Joanne brushed her hair away from her face. “Something scared her off today. But I think she’ll call again. She’s desperate for money to get away, and then she’ll tell us where we can find Mandy.”
Hank drew in a lengthy breath and shook his head. “I can’t make the decision on my own. I’d get my neck in a rope. I’ll have to talk with my supervisor. Maybe we can give you a couple days, but that’s it. If you’re right, we need to get on this or we’ll lose her.”
“Please, just give her a day or two. Once I know where Mandy is, then you can get involved.”
“It’s not wise, Mrs. Fuller. I think we’d be making a mistake.”
A mistake? Joanne gaped at the detective. Could this be a mistake?
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Benjamin shoved his own work aside and carried a stack of Greg’s files to his desk. He’d glanced over some of them earlier, after the idea had struck him that there might be a connection between one of Greg’s cases and Joanne’
s calls. It was still a vague possibility, but Benjamin decided to pursue it.
He’d deliberated over the dates. Greg died in November 2002, so the case would have to have been shortly before that—or maybe not…Benjamin decided to work backward. He shuffled through Greg’s folders beginning with the last ones he’d worked on.
Distractions kept pulling his mind from his task. For one, he’d begun to have second thoughts about Cortezi keeping Mandy’s photo from the paper. Even if the detective’s supervisor agreed to wait, Benjamin realized that if they lost the child because of their negligence he would never forgive himself, and he knew Joanne wouldn’t forgive herself, either.
He sent up a prayer asking God to guide the detective’s decision. If Hank’s captain agreed, then it was God’s will—at least Benjamin prayed it was. Still the thought niggled, and tonight when he saw Joanne he would ask her to think about it carefully. But she needed to make a quick decision.
Turning his thoughts back to the files, Benjamin plowed through the folders. Nothing struck him. Nothing looked serious enough to result in kidnapping and murder. He glanced at his watch, disheartened that he’d found nothing.
The next file he opened caught his interest—a restraining order case. Plaintiff Rose Stella Angelo. Daughter Connie Angelo, age two. Physical and mental abuse. Life-threatening actions. The names didn’t ring a bell. Plaintiff won the case, and the defendant was jailed for a year in the county facility.
He continued, then found another file on Rose Stella Angelo, plaintiff. Divorce. Defendant Peter Carl Angelo. As Benjamin skimmed the disposition the hair rose on his arms. The plaintiff had forgone alimony and child support for a permanent restraining order against the defendant.
He calculated the dates. If Angelo spent one year in jail, his daughter and Mandy would have been three when he was released. Would a man be so sick as to murder in vengeance? He remembered the life-threatening abuse he’d read in the case notes and knew the answer. Yes. It happened too often. But could it be connected with Greg’s case?
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