They’d reached the park, and the roads vanished as Angelo turned down a snowy rutted trail. Joanne longed to look behind her to see if she could spot anyone following, but Angelo would see her in his mirror, and she didn’t want to push him over the edge. God would be with them. He had to be.
Angelo left the path and the SUV tilted and bumped through a snow-filled field. The tires sank and spun, but Angelo persisted, and finally the vehicle shot forward. He skidded to a stop behind a stand of leafless shrubs, the density of which partially hid the vehicle from anyone who might venture down the path.
Joanne could see the frozen river nearby, and she recognized a setting similar to that on the television news bulletin she’d seen the day she had lunch with Melissa. She recalled the police breaking through the mounds of snow and the emergency vehicles parked in the vicinity as they carried Donna’s draped body to an EMS van.
Would she be the next news bulletin? She and Mandy? Never. She’d give her life, but she’d do anything to keep her daughter alive.
Angelo climbed out and jerked open her door. He grabbed her arm and yanked her from the SUV. He slammed the door, leaving Mandy inside.
Joanne’s only hope was to get Mandy outside, to distract him, then tell her to run. “Why are you leaving her inside?”
“What do you care?”
“She’s my daughter,” she said, twisting her face in the most vicious look she could. “You abducted her years ago and then killed my husband.”
“Pretty good, wasn’t I?”
“You’re evil. You killed your wife.” She knew if she riled him, he’d kill her. She had to shut her mouth until she could free Mandy.
“Poor dumb Donna. She should have let well enough alone. A few smacks now and again didn’t hurt her, but she pushed her luck.”
Joanne opened her mouth, then closed it and prayed for wisdom.
He dragged her closer to the river, then pulled duct tape from his pocket. “I lost my daughter because of your husband, and I thought I’d get even by taking his. Now you get to watch when you lose yours again.” A vicious laugh erupted from his throat.
Joanne struggled against his hold, but his grip was ironclad and she didn’t have the strength. He leaned over and shoved his face into hers as he bound her hands around the tree. Joanne flinched at his stinking breath while she fought to keep her hands loose in the tape.
But he wound the tape around twice, three times, and she worried she’d never get free. She hoped he wouldn’t cover her mouth. She needed to warn Mandy.
A distant sound distracted him, and he reached beneath his jacket and jerked out a handgun.
The sight sent chills through her. She’d been sure he didn’t have a weapon. He’d strangled Donna and run Greg off the road into the lake. She’d expected the same treatment. Joanne craned her neck to look through the barricade of limbs to see if rescue had come, but the sound they’d heard faded, as did her hopes.
Her heart thundered against her chest, and she feared she would faint before she could help Mandy get away. She watched Angelo tug open the door and pull her daughter from the back seat. Joanne’s panic rose when she saw the terror in Mandy’s face.
While Angelo’s back was turned, Joanne worked her hands to try to release the tape, but it only seemed to get tighter the more she struggled.
Angelo pushed Mandy forward, and she slipped into a rut and fell. He yanked her up by her coat neck and pushed her ahead of him, his pistol wagging toward the ground as he stalked forward.
Mandy’s fear-filled eyes searched Joanne’s, and Joanne sent her daughter a fervent look, shifting her gaze toward the road and hoping Mandy would understand to run when she could. Joanne sought a diversion, anything to distract Angelo long enough for Mandy to get away.
As he shoved Mandy nearer, Joanne continued to try to wrestle her hands free of their binding to the slender tree trunk. She sent up a prayer and then, in desperation, cried out, “I hear them.” She didn’t know why she’d said that, but she hoped he’d look around. “I knew they’d come.”
“I don’t hear nuthin’,” he said, his hand still clutching Mandy’s arm, but Joanne noticed a flicker of confusion on his face.
“You’re not listening. I heard them over there.” She used her head to indicate the brush to his left. “I had a cell phone. You didn’t see me call.”
He faltered, his brutal look aimed at her. His gun waved in the air as he marched away from Mandy and stuck his face into Joanne’s, his breath assaulting her nostrils, his voice harsh. “You can watch your daughter die now.” He grabbed the collar of Joanne’s coat.
“Leave her alone,” Mandy screamed. “You always hurt people.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, turning back toward her, his pistol aimed at Mandy.
Tears rolled down Joanne’s face from the sting of his hand and from despair. “Shoot me,” Joanne screamed. “Kill me and get it over with.”
He pivoted toward her and aimed the pistol.
“Run!” Joanne screamed to Mandy. “Run!”
He swung back toward Mandy and a shot rang out.
And then Joanne knew only blackness.
Benjamin heard a shot reverberate across the bare landscape. His vehicle skidded to the side of the rutted road and he leaped from it. Noise sounded from the right, and his pulse raced as he darted through the ice-covered snow, slipping as he ran.
“Joanne,” he screamed. He knew Angelo could be aiming the pistol toward his voice but he didn’t care any longer. What was life without the woman he loved? If Angelo killed her—He stopped his thought. He didn’t dare give way to hopelessness.
“Joanne!”
Through the branches he could see movement. A dark jacket flashed between the bare limbs of a tree. He crouched, running as low to the ground as he could. His suit pants dampened at the ankles and icy slush seeped into his shoes as his feet broke through the crusted snow.
“Joanne!”
As he broke through the brush, he skidded to a halt.
Joanne lay on the ground, her lifeless body twisted. Medics hovered over her while another body lay sprawled on the ground.
Then he saw the child. Tears streamed down the child’s cheeks as an officer held her in his arms.
Benjamin darted past them and pushed his way through the officers, then kneeled at Joanne’s side. Tears burned his eyes as he bent closer. His prayers soared, asking God why. Why? Then he saw her eyelids flutter, and his heart skipped a beat.
He scrutinized her body, searching for a wound or signs of blood. “Was she shot?” he asked the officer.
“I think she fainted,” he replied as a medic bent closer.
“Stand back,” the other said, pushing Benjamin away. He moved as the emergency technician kneeled to check Joanne’s pulse, but before he finished, her eyes opened.
She focused on Benjamin with dazed eyes. “Mandy?”
“She’s okay. They’ve put her in a squad car.”
“I heard a shot.” She lifted her head and gazed at the lifeless body of Carl Angelo being lifted onto a litter. “What happened?”
“We shot him before he hurt the child,” the officer said. “He’s dead.” He turned and waved toward the EMS ambulance. “Another gurney here.”
“I can walk. I’m fine.” She struggled to shift herself upward, pulling away excess duct tape from her hands.
“Don’t fight them, Joanne,” Benjamin said, his mind so rattled he could barely think. “I’ll follow you to the hospital.”
He stepped away as they lifted her onto the gurney. His mind reeled at the thought of what could have been, and he knew the Lord had granted his request.
He’d kept Joanne and Mandy safe.
Joanne stood outside the hospital door watching Mandy through the opening. The child had fallen asleep, and Joanne felt grateful. She’d said a prayer of thanksgiving. God had heard her prayer, and the horror had finally ended.
She’d been delayed arriving. She’d asked Benjamin to call Nit
a while she gave her statement to the police and dealt with her physical examination, and finally they’d released her.
“How long will she be here?” she asked the physician as he jotted notes onto the clipboard.
“She’s been through a horrifying ordeal. After she has a full examination, we’ll still want to keep her a couple of days. We’ll have a social worker talk with her and a therapist.”
“Can I talk with her? Can I tell her who I am?” Joanne asked.
Benjamin pressed her arm as if to urge her to be quiet, but she couldn’t.
The physician shook his head. “We need the DNA first, just to make sure.”
“I am sure. I know my daughter.”
“But the courts will need proof. You can visit her later, but don’t confuse her. She needs to rest, and we need to help her deal with this.”
Joanne wanted to be the one to help her. She’d waited three years to have her daughter back in her arms and now she had to wait again. Her nerves jarred with frustration.
Benjamin leaned close to her ear. “Be patient, Joanne. She’ll be with you soon. Give it time. Not for them, but for Mandy. She needs to be ready to hear what you have to say.”
She knew he was right. “Can I at least take her home when she’s released?”
The doctor looked frustrated with her question. “I just told you we need DNA. She’ll go into a foster home.”
“A foster home? No. She’s been in a foster home for three years.”
“Joanne, please,” Benjamin said.
She heard the urgency in his voice and quieted. “For how long?”
“We should learn the results from the DNA test in three or four days. It won’t be long.”
“You’ve waited three years,” Benjamin said. “Another couple of days won’t matter. You can get her room ready, and go Christmas shopping.”
“I don’t care about that. I want my daughter.” She realized what she was saying and closed her mouth. “I’m sorry. Benjamin is right. I can get things ready for her and make it a real homecoming.”
“I know you’re anxious,” the ER doctor said, his tone softening. “I’m sorry, but we have to follow procedures, and I know you want to make sure she’s healthy.”
Joanne nodded. “Can I visit with her? We talked in Angelo’s car. She knew I was worried about her. She might want to see me.”
He glanced at Mandy through the doorway. “Let’s say tomorrow. You can see her before we send her to foster care.” His expression softened. “I promise, if the DNA proves right, you’ll have her before Christmas.”
Before Christmas. The words washed over Joanne. She took a final look at Mandy before she let Benjamin move her away from the door.
Chapter Twenty-Four
At home, exhaustion overcame Joanne as she sank into the sofa with her cup of tea. Her mother sat across from her, her eyes swollen from crying, her face pale from hearing the lengthy story of what had happened.
“I thank God you’re both okay,” her mom said. “I suppose I should head for home now that I know you’re safe.”
Her gaze searched Joanne’s, and Joanne understood what her mother wanted to hear.
“Wouldn’t you want to see your granddaughter?”
“With all my heart, but I didn’t know if—”
“You can see her tomorrow. We can’t tell her anything yet, but you can talk with her. I’ll tell her you’re my mother and that’s all.”
“If I won’t be in the way, I’d give anything to see her.”
“You’ve given enough, Mom. You came here when I was in trouble, even when I told you not to come, and you stood by my side.” The conversation astounded Joanne. She and her mother had not talked so openly in years.
“I would have been praying if someone had told me.”
Joanne looked at her with amazement. She’d only heard her mother talk of prayer the night Benjamin had made reference to it. This wasn’t the mother that Joanne had grown to resent.
“I didn’t know you believe in God,” Joanne said, being blunt and hoping not to start an argument.
“I was not raised in the church, but I knew about God. I just never took much stock in leaning on anyone but myself.”
“So what happened? What changed you?”
“Benjamin told me a few things in the Bible, and it felt right. We talked about prayer. While I was here alone during the day, I started reading the Bible. I have a long way to go, but it makes sense to me.”
“I’m happy to hear you say that.”
“Only the New Testament. I started the Old Testament, but it got too confusing. I love the part about Jesus in the newer Scripture.”
“Scripture is beautiful. It’s a guide for living.”
Her mother ran her hand over her cheek. “I can see Benjamin’s a man of faith. He’s strong and confident. He’s a good man, Joanne.”
“I know he is. His faith is stronger than mine.”
Her mother shook her head. “I doubt that. You’ve been involved in church since you met Greg.”
Joanne’s heart lurched at the reference. “I was, but that has nothing to do with believing. Church-going is an outward symbol. Believing happens right here.” She pressed her hand against her heart. “We all sin, Mom. Even Christians. We make big mistakes. We get angry at God. I certainly was, after Greg and Mandy were gone.”
“I can only imagine.” Evelyn looked thoughtful. “I’ve made a few big mistakes myself,” she said as an expression of remorse darkened her face. “Sometimes I wish I could erase how I’ve lived and do it over.”
“We can’t back up, Mom. We just have to make the future different.” Though she said the words for her mother, they had a strong meaning for Joanne.
Her mother didn’t respond, but Joanne noticed her brush her fingers across her eyes. She’d never seen her mother cry. That thought triggered another. Perhaps her mother had cried about things alone. Joanne had judged her without knowing her.
“I’m so sorry you’ve been going through all of this pain alone, Joanne.”
Joanne opened her mouth to remind her mother that she had Benjamin, but she stopped herself. Right now, she and her mother were talking as two caring people. She wanted to cling to the rare moment. She recalled how miserable she’d often been when she visited with her family. She’d become an outsider.
“I’ve been neglectful,” Evelyn said suddenly.
Joanne didn’t respond. What could she say? She’d believed exactly that of her mother.
“To tell you the truth, Joanne, I didn’t know what to do or say to you after the accident. I should have said more, but words just didn’t capture the sorrow I felt for you.” She turned her head toward the window and rose, walking across the carpet to look outside. “Mandy was my granddaughter. My flesh and blood. I gathered my personal grief and clung to it like a selfish man to his money. I guarded it like some kind of treasure.”
Her words spun through Joanne’s head. Was this the same thing she had done?
“You probably felt the same,” her mother said, her face burdened with sadness, “and instead of joining together in our sorrow, we both hugged it to our breasts and made it our own.”
Her mother’s explanation smacked Joanne with the truth. She had hugged her misery to herself. She’d guarded it, unwilling to share. She’d resented anyone saying they understood, because no one understood. No one felt her pain. No one had had his life pulled out from under him like she had.
“You’re right, Mom. I felt just like that. I didn’t even want you to feel the grief that I felt. Now that I think about it, I put myself on a pedestal of sorrow. I became untouchable.”
“So did I.”
“But, Mom, right in here, I wanted to be touched.” She rested her hand above her heart. “I wanted to be sheltered and cared for. I wanted my husband and child to reappear.”
Her mother turned from the window and opened her arms. Joanne joined her, and they stood, wrapped together in a tight embrace, tears
dripping from their eyes while Joanne unleashed the hurt from her heart.
“I’m sorry I didn’t understand,” Joanne whispered into her mother’s hair.
They stood together in silence as forgiveness enveloped them. Joanne knew total healing would take time, but today her mother had taken a step forward and so had she. The step felt wonderful.
When they eased away and finally settled into their seats, Joanne gathered strength to take one more step. “I felt so lonely for so long. It wasn’t just you who seemed to turn your back on me. Friends did the same thing. Couples. I became a threat, or maybe they didn’t like the fifth-wheel idea, but I drew into myself even more. My only escape was my work at Solutions, and I drown myself in it.”
“I wish we’d talked this out a long time ago,” Evelyn said.
“I do, too. It wasn’t only you and friends who turned their backs. I realize now it was me. I’d turned first and made it harder, but I wish someone had persisted. I needed people so badly.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t, Joanne. You know I’ve always been a private woman. Expressing my feelings hasn’t come easy. I probably seem self-centered.”
Joanne smiled, recalling her conversation with Benjamin. “You don’t have to say any more, Mom. Like I said, humans make mistakes, and that’s why we need God’s love and forgiveness.”
She saw her mother’s gaze shift. “I’m not trying to evangelize, Mom. It’s what I feel in my heart. My faith has kept me sane. I felt anger at God. I felt betrayed by Him, but He stood by my side anyway. We should learn from God’s abiding love. He never turns His back.”
Her mother’s eyebrows rose a little. “That’s a good lesson. Something all of us should keep in mind.”
Joanne agreed. She’d experienced it fully. God had not turned His back on her. He’d answered her fervent prayer and He’d kept her daughter safe.
“Why didn’t Benjamin stay?” Evelyn asked, changing the subject.
“He had things to do. He’d walked out on a meeting, and he needed to go back and settle some work projects.”
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