Her mother must have heard her because she turned. “This was Mandy’s.”
“I found it in the tree-trimming boxes.”
“She used to toddle all over the house, dragging this poor beat-up thing.”
“I’m surprised you remember.” Joanne’s sigh rattled through her as she continued across the room.
“I don’t suppose you remember who gave her this.”
“I thought we did.”
Her mother shook her head. “No, your dad and I did for her first birthday. I remember finding it at the department store. Mandy loved this old thing.”
Joanne set the tray on the coffee table. Now that her mother mentioned it, she did recall the plush dog had been in the gifts her mother had sent from Cleveland. “She slept with it every night.” She turned away so her mother wouldn’t notice her sadness.
Evelyn returned the dog to its place beneath the tree and crossed the room to the sofa. She proceeded to pour the tea into the two cups, then lifted one and took a sip.
After Joanne took her cup, she settled across from her mother and waited, though she was filled with so many questions.
Her mother looked uneasy and didn’t speak for a while. Then she said, “Maybe I made a mistake coming here. I should probably just head back home.”
“I’m sorry you don’t feel welcome. I’m just astounded that you came.” Especially since she’d told her not to—but then her mother always did things her way. “I’m having a bad time with all this trauma. I’d begun to heal from the tragedy, and this has dragged everything out again. It’s like living it all over, but this time with a precious hope dangling in front of me—the thought that Mandy might be alive.”
“I don’t understand how that could be, Joanne. Are you sure this isn’t some kind of hoax?”
“Is that why you came? Because you thought I’d fallen for a hoax?”
Her mother looked startled, and Joanne regretted being so blunt.
“I came because you’re my daughter and I thought you might like to have some family around for support.”
Her mother’s look had darkened, and Joanne couldn’t really blame her. Her greeting hadn’t been very welcoming.
“I have friends,” Joanne said. “I can count on them.” The dig slipped from her mouth before she could stop it, yet she knew she’d been honest. “But you’re here now, so stay a couple of days if you’d like.”
The word friends rang in her ears. She didn’t have that many—Benjamin, Nita, a couple of people at church who were more acquaintances than anything.
“I’m glad you have friends, Joanne. I know we haven’t been much help to you, living so far away.”
She wanted to remind her mother that she’d mentioned the ride hadn’t taken that long—under three hours. Where had her family been when Joanne needed support during those lonely months after the accident?
She opened her mouth to ask, but something stopped her. She recalled a lesson from God’s Word—reckless words pierce like a sword, but wise words bring healing. She couldn’t handle mending their relationship today, but she wouldn’t close the door on it.
No matter how frustrated and hurt she was by her family’s rejection, her mother had come on her own, with no prodding from Joanne.
She lifted her gaze to her mother’s questioning eyes. “It was thoughtful to come, Mom. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help. I know you’re concerned about a hoax, but I don’t think this is one. My heart tells me differently, and I have a photograph—”
“A photograph?” A frown settled on her face.
Joanne told her mother the story of finding the snapshot in her Christmas packages and having the conversation with the woman. “But she hasn’t contacted me further, and I’m afraid she was the woman found dead in the Dearborn park.”
Her mother paled as she listened. “I can’t believe all of—”
A familiar knock on the front door halted her mother midsentence, and Joanne felt a flush rise to her cheeks.
“Company?” her mother asked.
Uneasy, she glanced at the door and then her mother. “It’s Benjamin.”
She watched her mother’s eyes widen. “Benjamin?”
“Maybe you’ll remember him once you see him again,” Joanne said as she hurried to the door and pulled it open.
“You have a visitor?” Benjamin asked, gesturing toward the car in the driveway.
“My mom.”
He felt his eyebrows arch, but he said nothing as he stepped in. “Hello,” he said, crossing the living room toward her mother with his hand extended. “We met years ago. You probably don’t remember me.”
Her mother rose and took his hand. “I do now that I see you.”
Benjamin slipped off his jacket and tossed it on a small chair by the archway. “You’ve come for the holidays?”
“No, I’ll have to get back—but Joanne told me about her ordeal and I had to come.”
“I understand,” he said, giving Joanne a sweeping glance.
“I told her no,” Joanne said, “But Mom surprised me and came anyway.”
Her mother nodded. “I couldn’t leave her going through all this without family.”
Benjamin looked from Joanne to her mother, trying to read what had happened between them. “That was thoughtful,” he said finally.
In Joanne’s face he saw the usual tension when she spoke of her mother. Yet hope wore through his thoughts. He believed things had a purpose, and perhaps this visit, even though unwelcome by Joanne, was a means of resolving some of the issues between them. If the trials Joanne had been going through accomplished one thing, resolution and forgiveness would be a good reward.
The conversation shifted to Joanne’s sister and family affairs. Joanne’s edginess seemed obvious, but her mother plugged along, and Joanne joined in even though she seemed stressed. Benjamin felt out of place, and yet they included him in the discussion. To his surprise, as the time ticked by, they chuckled occasionally, and the more he watched the more he felt hopeful about the possibility of healing between them.
When the telephone rang, Joanne gave him an urgent look, then rose and left the room. He tried to carry on casual conversation with Evelyn, but his attention was drawn to Joanne’s voice coming from the kitchen. She didn’t sound upset, so he hoped it was a friend calling.
“It was Cortezi,” she said when she returned. “He asked me to come down to the station today.”
He noticed nervous tremors in her hands when she gestured, her focus shifting from him to her mother.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you here for an hour or so. We’ll talk about dinner later, but make yourself a sandwich or something if you’re hungry.”
“No problem. I’ll unpack and rest while you’re gone.” Her mother gestured toward him. “Benjamin can go with you, I hope.” She looked at him pointedly.
“I sure will,” he said, relieved she’d accepted his friendship with Joanne. “And don’t worry about dinner, I’ll take you both out to eat when we get back.”
Joanne crossed the room to the foyer closet, and he followed.
“What did Hank say?” he whispered as she pulled out her coat.
“He wants to talk to me about the person who sent the e-mails.”
His stomach jarred with the news. The answer they’d been waiting for could be only minutes away.
Chapter Eighteen
“Thanks for coming here on a Sunday,” Cortezi said as he steered them into a private conference room.
Joanne eyed the tired-looking man and wondered why he never seemed to have a day off to rest. Benjamin held the chair for her and she sat. “What did you find out?” she asked immediately, her gaze darting to his desk for some sign.
“Do you know Melissa Shafer?” he asked.
Joanne’s heart sank. “Yes, we work at Solutions, Incorporated.” She thought of her promotion and Melissa’s envy, but she had never believed Melissa could be involved. If it were Melissa and i
f the calls and e-mails were connected, Mandy being alive was a hoax.
“She’s the person e-mailing you—from her home. She’d already deleted the e-mail address and the files on her computer, but the server was able to trace it to her anyway. When we confronted her, she admitted what she’d done.”
Joanne had to gather her thoughts. “I’d just gotten a promotion. Melissa was very envious, but I didn’t think…”
She felt Benjamin’s hand on her arm, giving it a squeeze. He’d warned her, and she hadn’t listened. Even Nita had mentioned Melissa. It seemed obvious now, but she’d been so determined not to believe it could be anyone at Solutions. “And the calls? She did that, too?”
Cortezi’s head snapped up. “No. She’s not your caller. It’s a coincidence that both of these things happened at the same time.”
“A coincidence?” The news confounded her. “So what happens now?”
“That’s up to you.”
“What?”
“You can press charges against her. The messages had undertones of threat. We can prosecute and she’ll probably get a year in jail or maybe probation.”
Joanne felt sick. “Press charges?”
“I don’t think she meant to carry it this far,” Cortezi said. “We’ve talked to her. She had no idea you were going through this other situation.”
“I know,” Joanne said. “I only told one friend at work. She wouldn’t have said anything.”
“We can prosecute without you,” Cortezi said. “What she’s done is against the law. But I think I’d like to leave it up to you. You can speak with her if you want.”
His suggestion surprised her. “Melissa? You mean at work?”
“No. She’s here. We have her in another room.”
Joanne squirmed, wondering if she wanted to speak to the woman. She turned her gaze to Benjamin, who sat in pensive silence, his hands folded in his lap, his jaw tensed.
When she caught his eye, he shook his head as if to say the choice was hers. It was, but she didn’t know what to do. Then out of nowhere, she remembered that the Lord taught compassion and forgiveness. “Are you positive she has nothing to do with the calls?”
“Positive. We know the time the calls came in, and she had a solid alibi for two of them—a dentist appointment, an engagement with someone from Solutions. I think you should speak with her.”
Joanne hesitated before answering, but she knew what she should do. “I’ll see her,” she said finally.
“Good.”
Cortezi eyed Benjamin. “Will you—”
“I’ll wait outside,” Benjamin said. “This is between Joanne and this woman.”
She heard protectiveness in his voice, but she understood.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, rising. “Where do you want me to go?”
“Wait here.” Cortezi held up his hand. “I’ll bring her to you.”
Benjamin gave her a reassuring look as Cortezi headed for the door. Benjamin followed and gave her a final nod before he left the room.
Joanne sat alone with thoughts running through her head. All her tension had piled up like gray sludge along the roadways. Now she’d experienced a partial warming: one question had been answered, clearing away a little of her icy concern. Yet she still couldn’t believe Melissa hated her so much.
Moments later she heard the knob turn, and her gaze lifted to the opening door. Cortezi’s face was the first she saw, followed by Melissa’s tear-streaked one. Her co-worker looked pale and haggard, not the vivacious sashaying young woman she knew at the office.
“I’ll let you two talk,” Cortezi said, staying near the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He slipped out and Joanne faced her nemesis—or one of them.
Melissa sank into the chair across from her and opened her mouth to speak, but instead, a sob broke from her and she covered her face with her hands.
Joanne stared at her, not knowing what to say or what to do. She wanted to be angry, but she’d been through too much to feel anything but bewilderment. She waited until she heard the woman’s sobs fade and then subside.
“All I want to know is why?” Joanne asked finally. The question was an obvious one. Melissa was envious, but how had that led her to be so vicious?
Melissa didn’t speak for a moment. She remained bent over, her face hidden behind her trembling fingers. Finally she raised her head. Her eyes were bloodshot and fear was emblazoned on her face. “I don’t know, Joanne. I wanted that job so badly, and I…”
Joanne watched various emotions cross her coworker’s face. Her own feelings knotted and twisted inside her, but she held on, staying strong. She’d fought so long to keep her sanity, and today, she would stay in control. She needed the Lord’s guidance and she could only hear Him if she remained calm.
“This is no excuse,” Melissa said, her voice breaking the silence. “I’m spoiled. I always have been. I’ve used my body to get what I want, but it didn’t work this time. I thought I had your job. I thought the interview was only a procedure to cover tracks. When you were promoted, I realized I’d been used. You’d accomplished success with hard work and ability while I’d failed. I’d lost my morals and respect for myself in the process.”
“I’m sorry for you,” Joanne said, truly angered that this woman had been used by someone in the company. She couldn’t even imagine it. She’d only been treated with respect—but then, she respected herself. She thanked God for that.
“I had no idea what you’d been going through,” Melissa said. “I had no idea you’d been harassed by a telephone caller. That wasn’t me, Joanne. I only sent the three e-mails, and I realized they were wrong after we had lunch together. I deleted everything and hoped I’d be forgiven.”
Joanne let the word forgiveness wash over her. “You are forgiven, Melissa, when you repent and ask God to pardon your sins. The Bible has taught me to forgive so that I can be forgiven. It’s not easy. I’m very angry at you, and I know I could press charges and your life would change beyond belief, but I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Her eyes widened.
“My life changed one November evening when I lost my husband and daughter. I don’t want anyone to live with that kind of grief and sorrow. What you’ve done is very wrong, but I think you’ll suffer enough just knowing what you did and how much it affected my life.”
“I am sorry, Joanne.” She shook her head as if trying to awaken herself. “I can’t believe you’re not going to press charges after what I’ve done.”
“I can’t, either, but I’m not.” Joanne felt the air empty from her lungs and she gasped for breath. Still, her heart felt uplifted by her decision. “This is between us. I only hope that you’ve learned that the only thing that makes life worthwhile is your hanging on to your values and faith. Please give that some thought.”
Melissa sat as if stunned.
Joanne rose and walked to the door. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, Benjamin came to her side and Cortezi asked what she wanted to do.
“Let her go. I think she’s suffered enough. I know I have.”
Cortezi touched her arm. “You’re sure?”
“Positive. I just want to go home.”
“You can go,” he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
“Keep us posted,” Benjamin said, making no comment about her decision.
“It can’t be long. He can’t stay hidden forever, especially not with a child.”
With a child. Joanne’s pulse sped up as fear flooded her. Was Mandy still alive? Her silent prayer rose to heaven.
They said goodbye, and by the time they had left the police station, snow was falling.
“I’m glad you came with me,” Joanne said. “I felt more secure knowing you were there.”
“You’re welcome.”
He didn’t say any more, and Joanne noticed that his jaw seemed tight. She wished he’d be more open tonight. She didn’t want to play guessing games. “Are you upset I didn’t press charges?”
“No. That was your decision. I don’t think the woman had any idea how serious her actions were.”
“She’s used to getting her own way, and it didn’t work this time.” She didn’t mention how the woman had used her feminine wiles to get what she wanted. It sounded too catty. “I’m doubly worried now about the calls…or lack of them.”
He nodded but remained silent.
“What’s bugging you, Benjamin? Please tell me.”
He shook his head. “It’s none of my business, Joanne.”
“Yes, it is. If it has to do with me and it’s upsetting you, then it is our business to get it settled.”
“It’s about your mother.”
“My mother?” Her mind reeled. “What do you mean?”
“She came to support you, but you’re not treating her as if you’re happy she’s here.”
“You think I’m supposed to jump up and down with joy that my mother finally showed up to support me? Where was she all the years I was alone?”
“I can’t answer that. But the Bible tells us to turn the other cheek, to use encouraging words rather than harsh ones. You just showed compassion to a coworker, Joanne. The woman visiting you is your mother. It’s not only your words with her. It’s your attitude. It’s not like you to be so hard.”
Hard. That’s how she felt—hard-hearted and unforgiving.
“You’re soft and beautiful, Joanne. That’s how I think of you. You’re kind and thoughtful, but seeing you with your mother shows me a side I don’t like.”
She flinched. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you by expressing my feelings.”
“What I think doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re not accountable to me.”
Then who was she accountable to? Herself? God. That’s what he meant. Questions rolled through her mind. Joanne knew she had an attitude. It had become her defense against being hurt, but why hadn’t she been big enough to let it go?
They rode in silence while she pondered what Benjamin had said. She’d clung to her anger for too long, and she knew she should be forgiving. Each time she asked God to be merciful, she paid little attention to the biblical truth that showing mercy begat mercy.
Finding Christmas Page 17