Looking for Justice: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 4)

by Linda K. Rodante

  He tried once more to get her to go home with him, but she refused. Jessica was at the hospital with her mom, and Alexis had the condo to herself.

  The strange warmth that had descended at Luke’s house still hovered. She clasped her arms over her midsection. Something had disappeared from inside her, something dark and heavy. Light permeated her insides – light and lightness. Saying she felt buoyant didn’t describe it, but she could think of nothing else.

  Except maybe freedom. Does this have to do with you, God? Who are you? And Jesus? What am I supposed to do now?

  She glanced at the nightstand and at the Bible on it. Scooting over, she picked up the book and thumbed through the pages. Where to start? John had always told her to start in the New Testament at the Gospel of John. Easy to remember he’d said and grinned. Well, she’d done some reading there the other night, trying to run down Luke’s references to this new life he talked about. But she’d started somewhere in the middle of the chapter reading about the woman caught in an adulterous situation.

  They’d dragged her to Jesus, expecting him to condemn her; but he hadn’t. After they all left, he told her to go and sin no more. So, he didn’t condone what she did, but he hadn’t thrown stones at her either.

  This man, Jesus, had more to him than she realized. Courage and strength and fairness. She liked him.

  Moving to the chair in the corner of her room, she thumbed through the book once more, put her finger on a page and stopped. John 2:19 on the left side, John 4:38 on the right. She let her focus travel over the small print. Some in black, some in red.

  “In reply Jesus declared, ‘I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.

  “‘How can a man be born when he is old?’ Nicodemus asked.”

  Alexis settled back in the chair. Now that would certainly be a new life. Being born again. How would Jesus answer this?

  Chapter 18

  Luke heard her car just as Farley raised his head. “Stay, boy. It’s okay.”

  He moved from the kitchen to the living area, glanced out the front window and watched her walk to the door – the late-riser surprising him with a visit before full sunrise.

  So much had happened last night that his feelings had coagulated in his chest. However, he still wanted this morning what he’d wanted last night – for her to find Jesus. She said she had, but had he understood correctly? Was it real?

  He said nothing, just backed away from the door and let her walk in.

  Why is she here, Lord? They hadn’t had another chance to talk after John arrived. Luke ran a hand through his hair and shoved his tiredness aside. He’d taken the few hours of sleep he should have had last night to wonder and pray about where they’d go from here.

  The moment of silence brought a smile to her face, highlighting the long bruise on her right cheek. He wanted to touch it. The fire of anger burned briefly, but the man who had caused the bruise was dead. That part of their story was finished. What would the rest hold?

  “You still have that flavored creamer?”

  He nodded. “Of course. Yes. Come in.”

  She walked ahead of him into the kitchen, sat in her usual chair; and he went to get the coffee and creamer.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said.

  “I wondered how you would cope.”

  “I could have slept here with the fire going.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. That situation would have proved dangerous. He shoved the picture of her sleeping on his couch out of his mind. The picture from that first night gave him trouble at times.

  “So, I had to come early—”

  “Alexis.” He cut across her words.

  “What?”

  “Did you mean what you said last night?”

  “About God?”

  “And Jesus.”

  “Yes.”

  “Truth?”

  “Luke, my life is built on truth. Because I strayed one time trying to help myself and the college doesn’t mean I’m a consummate liar.”

  He set the cups on the table, filled them with coffee and put the creamer in front of her before sitting across from her. His fingers rested on her hand. “I know.”

  Still, he’d wanted to be sure. His heart, which had sat frozen with uncertainty all night, began to beat.

  She stood abruptly and walked to the window. He stood, too. Should he say more? He wanted to. How would he say it? “Great. You’re a Christian. Let’s get married.” Somehow, he didn’t think that would work. She had to know how he felt. He’d opened himself up to her last night. What if life with him was not what she wanted?

  “Alexis.”

  She didn’t turn. Her profile was beautiful. The modest jeans and loose shirt didn’t hide the curves beneath. He loved looking at her. But what did she see in him? What was there to see?

  He’d failed at one marriage already, and marriage, for him, meant lifelong commitment. Or it had. And it was still what he wanted. Only he wanted to do it right this time. He wanted her…holding her in the morning, eating breakfast, riding together, laughing, discussing their work…

  Only, it would kill him if she said no or if it didn’t work. Still, he had to know, one way or the other. “Alexis, why are you here? Why are you bothering with me?”

  She turned from the window. “What?”

  He waved at her in a way that indicated her whole body. “What is someone like you doing with someone like me?”

  “Because I like you? Because there are no dull moments around you? I don’t know. Why? What are you asking?”

  He waved at her again, heart sinking. Like? “You’re one of the most beautiful women I know, and I…well…” He cleared his throat. “I’m plain. I’m an amputee.”

  “Plain?” Her eyes rounded. “Plain? There’s nothing plain about you.”

  “I’m not handsome, not by today’s standards. I have one leg.”

  “A leg and a half.” She moved across the room, invading his space. “You are a little rugged looking – like you’ve seen too much.” He frowned at her, and she laughed. “You have great eyes and a character face. No, it’s not exactly handsome, but I’ve never thought about it. And we’ve already discussed the leg issue. If you can deal with it, I can.”

  She liked him, she’d said. Like wasn’t what he wanted.

  “Pretty women want pretty men.”

  “Luke, it was Teresa’s loss, her hang-up, not yours. Let it go.”

  He frowned again and took a step back. “It wasn’t just her hang-up. It was me. I changed.”

  “Yes, and I’m glad you did. You know the outside is just the outside, and it’s what’s inside that counts. ‘Whited sepulchers’ Jesus called the Pharisees. I read that the other day and laughed myself silly. Jesus had a way with words. They were religious bigots. Pretty on the outside, full of dead men’s bones on the inside. If I had an accident tomorrow, if I lost a leg or an arm, would you drop me like a hot tamale?”

  “No. You know that.”

  “Of course I know that. Let’s get past this then. Besides, you’re gorgeous the way you are.”

  Gorgeous? Now she was lying again.

  She stepped into his space once more. “It’s not important to me what a man looks like. You should understand that. What’s important is his heart.” Her finger tapped his chest. “Your heart. Your gorgeous heart. People get old, people change. Some have accidents. If all you have is a face or a body, then you have nothing permanent. You, of all people, know that.”

  He took another step back. “No one said anything about permanent.”

  “Yes, they did.”

  “No, they…”

  “I did.”

  “I tried permanent before.” Why was he fighting this? It’s what he wanted, what he’d been thinking.

  “Not with me.”

  He felt her scrutiny; his was as intense. She was the gorgeous one, and he loved her. Could she possibly care as much? Would she stay?

&n
bsp; She drew her head back. “Don’t tell me I’m too pretty.”

  After a moment, he lifted a corner of his mouth. “That was my thought.”

  “And don’t take another step back. You’ll crush Farley’s tail.”

  He dropped his head, glancing behind him. The dog lifted his. Luke turned back to find her face six inches from his. Heat radiated from her. Whoa. His heart kicked up a notch. Her fingers trailed over his jaw, and his breath deepened.

  “It doesn’t matter, Luke. I’m not here to score points with the world. I’m here because I love you, because I thought you loved me. What’s important about someone is what’s inside.”

  She loved him? His eyes focused on hers, searching. His heart slammed against his chest.

  “You love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. The erratic up and down of his heart caused him to grin. “I love you, too.”

  Alexis tipped her head back, studying him again. “I thought so. You love me and what else?”

  “What else?”

  “You love me, and…”

  Her finger tapped his chest, and the light poured inside as it had the day God filled the weight room with His presence. He’d let the assurance God gave that day slide. Now he felt it pouring back. Leg or not, and, ultimately, Alexis or not, he was okay.

  “And?” His brows rose, wondering what she wanted.

  “We were just talking about it.”

  It took a moment, and then his grin widened. “I want permanence, too. With you. Lifetime. Family. Permanence. Will you marry me?”

  A smile broke out on her face. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  Before he thought, his mouth had covered hers; but she pushed into him, into the kiss. He drew back in surprise, holding her away.

  “Alexis, I’m no saint.”

  She chuckled. “You think that’s news?”

  “I mean I’m no priest. Do you know what you’re saying? Yes to marriage?”

  Her face became serious. “Of course, I do.” Her hand lifted to his jaw again. “I trust you, Luke. I trust you to be gentle and patient. And now, I trust God, too.”

  He groaned at her words, at the faith they implied, at the beauty he saw inside her and knew that God had given him far more than he’d asked or deserved.

  THE END

  I hope you enjoyed reading Looking for Justice.

  Authors need and appreciate book reviews.

  Could you please take a few minutes to put a review on Amazon?

  Amber Alert is a prequel to Looking for Justice. The next couple of pages

  will give you a peek at this romantic suspense novel due out this fall.

  Amber Alert

  A Christian Romance with Mystery and Suspense

  December, 5:00 am

  How many people does it take to find a baby?

  Sharee Jones sent up the desperate plea to God, even as her body protested the long, wet search. Exhaustion and discouragement, enhanced by the cold December night, increased as darkness turned toward morning. Her flashlight illuminated the muddy ground, and she leaned a shaking hand against a tree. Those on either side of her stopped. Sounds from other searchers echoed through the darkness. Their lights, whispered voices, and the moonlight imparted a surreal feeling to the area.

  How many people does it take to find a baby? A small regiment, Sharee realized. Now that the Amber Alert had gone out, the police, dog handlers, church members, neighbors, even strangers from across town had joined the frantic battle against time.

  She raised her arm into a narrow wash of light. Her watch glinted. Eight hours since the baby’s disappearance. The chances of finding him – and finding him alive – faded with each sweep of the watch’s hands.

  Now and again, she glanced back. The Christmas lights from an enormous six-pointed star pierced the darkness, mocking her. Peace on Earth, good will to men? Could there be any peace until they found Joshua?

  Her best friend’s child had vanished, and it was Sharee’s fault. She’d planned the program; she’d agreed to Joshua’s part in it. An infant playing the baby Jesus. It had sounded wonderful, and since the mother and father also volunteered to play Mary and Joseph, well…how much better could it get? Or so she’d thought.

  Sharee closed her eyes, her heart fracturing, and then the image of that first mutilated doll burst across her mind. Her eyes flew open. Kidnapped… or worse.

  She slipped on the muddy ground, and a man’s hand reached out to steady her. His other hand shot upwards and grabbed a wet branch as it snapped back at them. Cold rain splattered their faces. Sharee pulled free, wiped the rain from her eyes, and glanced at John Jergenson. He rubbed a hand across his own face and caught her look. She ducked her head and turned away.

  “Ted, we’re right behind you.” John’s voice didn’t have the exhausted quality Sharee knew hers did, but stress echoed in his words. “Watch the flying branches, will you?”

  “Sorry.” Ted Hogan’s answer drifted back from the darkness ahead.

  Sharee stared at the place from which Ted’s voice materialized. Her beam held both pines and underbrush in an unearthly glow. Vines twisted upward, catching on anything in their way. She thanked God that Ted had joined them a short while ago. A four-person team worked better than three. She and John and Lynn Stapleton had headed out as soon as they received permission from the deputy. When Ted arrived later, thankfulness welled up within her. They needed all the help they could get.

  Earlier, the sheriff’s deputies had searched the church buildings and the grounds and found nothing. This undeveloped land next door had acquired major importance. Other groups were wading through the trees and brush, while some inspected the nearby pond and the stand of cypress. Officers had canvassed the neighborhood.

  A gasp from behind startled her. She glanced over her shoulder. Lynn’s long, blonde hair hung soaked and dripping, except for one strand caught in a long-fingered branch. Her gunmetal, quilted parka glistened with moisture, and mud covered the stylish high-heeled boots. Lynn yanked the hair free.

  “You okay?” Sharee shoved a hand through her own wet hair. Her jeans and sweatshirt offered no better protection against the elements than her friend’s clothing.

  “I’m okay. Just wish I had something to pull this back with.” Lynn wrapped the waist-length hair around the top of her head once more. “If I had a clip—” She stopped and her eyes widened.

  Sharee jerked around, shooting her beam across the dark foliage in front of her. Lights and faces floated, ghost-like, among the trees before emerging into features and visages she recognized. She let out a long breath.

  “We’re going in for a while,” Pastor Alan Nichols said, stepping from the darkness. “Come with us.”

  Ted appeared from the gloom behind them. “Go in? No way. We can’t stop.”

  “No one’s giving up. It’s been a long night.” The pastor nodded to two soaked individuals passing them. “We all need a break and something warm.”

  “Go ahead.” Ted’s voice hardened. “I’m staying. I got here later than the rest of you. Besides, Ann doesn’t need us quitting.”

  “We’re not quitting.” The pastor moved aside as a third person went by him. “But we all need to dry off and get something to eat. Daybreak’s an hour away. They’ll be forming a line of searchers then, covering the same ground we’ve covered tonight.” He glanced at Sharee and Lynn and sent a frown John’s way before following the others.

  When John’s focus settled on her, Sharee straightened and picked up her chin. He let his light play over her then swept it over Lynn.

  “Alan’s right,” he said. “We need a break. Ted, help Lynn. Those boots she’s wearing weren’t made for this mud.”

  “I’m fine,” Lynn said, teeth chattering.

  “And I said I’m staying.” Ted’s voice grated.

  “You can’t stay.” Sharee grimaced at the roughness
in her own voice. “The deputy told us to stay in groups of three or four.”

  “I don’t care what he said.”

  “They don’t want anyone out here alone, and you don’t want to go through another interrogation, do you?”

  Ted muttered under his breath, but a moment later he grasped Lynn’s arm. Sharee’s heart gave a strange blip as she slipped past John’s outstretched hand and headed back.

  Too much tonight, Lord. Too much.

  When they reached the open field forming the church’s boundary, they dropped onto the nearby bleachers. Other search groups sat together, speaking in whispers. Some had cups of warm liquid in their hands. Steam rose like small ghostly apparitions from them. White lights from the enormous star that stretched parallel to the ground and eight feet above it added another eerie glow to the night.

  Where was Joshua? Who had taken him? Sharee stared past the lights into the night shadows. God’s presence and the joy it had infused in her throughout the Christmas program last night had evaporated.

  How could this happen, Lord? How?

  Silence filled her heart. She bit her lip. Her fault. Her best friend was in agony. Joshua had disappeared, and it was her fault. She shoved wet curls from her face. Her body shook.

  John stepped next to where she sat on the bleachers. She could feel his scrutiny, but avoided his eyes. He lowered himself beside her, and his fingers feather-touched her hair. She swallowed, resisting the urge to turn to him, to bury her face against his shoulder.

  After a moment, he straightened, and she followed his gaze to the second set of bleachers. Ryann Byrd, surrounded by a number of other teens, huddled on the top row. Of course, she needed support. She’d been through so much already.

  Sharee noticed another figure at the far end of the bleachers. Deputy Richards, feet spread and arms crossed. He stared up at Ryann, too. Then he turned, his gaze flickering past each huddled group until they reached Sharee. He looked from her to John and back again, and in the light from the Christmas star, she saw his eyes narrow.