Copyright
ISBN 978-1-60260-354-7
Copyright © 2009 by Cecelia Dowdy. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. Niv®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
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Prologue
Karen burst through the church doors, tears streaming down her face. “Pastor Smith, I can’t believe Lionel is still missing!”
The reverend and his wife, Candace, pulled the hysterical woman into a hug, patting her back. After they released her, Candace stroked Karen’s hair. “Honey, thanks for coming as soon as we called. The police detective is in the boardroom, waiting to talk to you. Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Karen wiped her eyes, struggling to gather her thoughts as the events from the past couple of weeks played through her mind like a nonstop movie. Her fiancé, Lionel Adams, had been fired as church treasurer after being accused of stealing thousands of dollars from their megachurch. And it was rumored that the assistant treasurer, Michelle James, who had recently resigned, had aided him with the theft.
Like the rest of the congregation, Karen had been shocked when the allegations against Lionel were announced at church two weeks ago. And since Lionel had left town the day before, she hadn’t been able to contact him to find out what was going on.
Karen turned toward Candace, her trembling lips attempting a smile. “I’ll—I’ll do the best I can to—to answer his questions.”
The threesome began walking slowly down the hallway, toward the boardroom. A moment later, the pastor stopped outside a closed door, placing his hand on Karen’s shoulder. “Karen, Michelle is missing also.”
Karen gasped, stepping away from the pastor. “That. . .that can’t be true.”
He nodded. “Unfortunately, it is.” Speaking softly, he said, “The church leadership team is concerned for both her and Lionel’s welfare. We want to find them, but we can’t ignore what’s happened.”
Candace took her hand. “Honey, we have to do all we can to locate them. What if there was foul play involved? Don’t you want to make sure Lionel is safe?”
Tears rushed from Karen’s eyes, and she wiped the moisture away. Her head pounded as she leaned against the cool wall, the contact bringing relief to her heated skin.
“Are you okay?” asked Pastor Smith.
Pulling herself away from the wall, she silently prayed, God, give me strength. “I–I’m okay now.”
The pastor’s kind dark eyes offered comfort. “The detective is in here. We called you to be questioned first since you know Lionel so well.”
Karen glanced at Candace. “Nobody told the congregation exactly how much money Lionel may have stolen. We just know it was thousands of dollars. How much cash was missing?”
The woman released Karen’s hand and looked at her husband, frowning.
In a calm voice, the pastor paused before speaking. “Fifty thousand dollars.”
Karen’s head started spinning. With a muffled sob, Karen turned away, wiping her eyes. “Lord, please help me deal with this pain.”
“We’ll take this one day at a time,” Candace said. “The Lord will see us through.”
Karen looked back at the closed door, hesitating. “Is it okay if I go to the restroom be–before talking to the detective?”
“Of course,” Candace said with an understanding smile.
Leaving the couple, Karen walked to the bathroom, pushed the door open, and entered the room, desperately seeking a private moment with the Lord. Her heart skipped a beat when Tara Baker, the church secretary, dressed in an immaculate cream-colored suit and sporting stylish hair and polished fingernails, stepped out of the stall. Spotting Karen, her dark eyes widened.
While the secretary wordlessly washed her hands, Karen regarded her own worn jeans and faded T-shirt before touching her hair, which she’d pulled into a ponytail in her haste to get to the church. She suddenly felt rumpled and dowdy.
“I always thought Lionel and Michelle were up to no good,” Tara finally mumbled, drying her hands with a paper towel while glaring at Karen.
Karen gritted her teeth, shocked at the rudeness of a woman who’d once flirted with Lionel.
“I find it hard to believe that you had no clue what your fiancé was doing behind your back,” Tara said then turned on her heels and strode out of the restroom.
Waves of pain floated through Karen’s head as she struggled to blot out the secretary’s words. Turning her focus to the Lord, she prayed, “God, please help me. Help us to find Lionel and Michelle. And keep them safe. Amen.” Somewhat soothed, she rejoined the pastor and his wife.
Pastor Smith gestured toward the now-open door. “Karen, I’m so sorry about this.”
Karen gave him a halfhearted smile then entered the room, praying for strength. The detective sat in a chair near the front of the room.
The minister spoke, his voice full of kindness, “Detective Ramsey, this is Karen Brown.”
“Good morning, Karen,” greeted the detective.
“Good morning,” Karen mumbled, taking a seat near the detective. She turned to her minister. “Can you stay here with me, Pastor Smith?”
The clergyman touched her arm, gazing at the detective. “Is that okay with you, detective?”
Ramsey shrugged, opening his notebook. “If she wants you to stay, that’s fine.”
Pastor Smith settled into the empty chair beside her.
The investigator asked his first question. “Do you know where Lionel is?”
“I. . .” She paused, chewing on her lower lip. “The day before the church announced he was fired, he told me he was going to go out of town to visit his cousin. I haven’t talked to him since, and th–that was two weeks ago.” She paused, gripping the arms of the chair. “I—I haven’t been able to contact him since he left.” She took a deep breath. “He won’t answer his cell phone. I figured he wanted some time alone and I would see him when he returned for his hearing.”
The detective looked up from the notes he was writing. “Where does his cousin live?”
As Ramsey’s questions went on and on, Karen felt overwhelmed with worry, fatigue, and nausea. Hot tears flowing down her cheeks, she prayed, Lord, will I ever feel normal again?
Her head pounded with pain, and she began rubbing her temples.
Pastor Smith touched her elbow. “Are you all right?”
“My head. . .hurts.”
“Detective, is it okay if we stop the questioning for a few minutes while I get Karen some aspirin?”
“I don’t mind at all,” said Ramsey.
Karen heard Pastor Smith’s retreating footsteps as she closed her eyes and rubbed her aching head. Her pain worsened as she leaned back into the chair. And then the world faded out.
One
One month later
Karen pulled into her mother’s driveway, gravel crunching beneath her car’s tires. Yellow, pink, and white tulips dominated the front yard, their enticing sweet scent beckoning, welcoming her home. Staring at the blossoms, she tried to relax after
the two-and-a-half-hour drive from Ocean City.
She took a deep breath, stepped out of the car, and walked to the front steps of her childhood home. It had been over a year since she’d been here, and with her present state of mind, the sudden comforting and nostalgic feelings gave her unexpected strength, making her glad she’d decided to return to Annapolis.
Continuing to enjoy the heady scent of the flowers, she unlocked the door and entered the living room. A thud sounded from the kitchen, and she rushed into the adjoining room. “Mom!” Her heart stopped when a large, brown-skinned man pulled his head out from beneath the kitchen sink and turned toward her, his eyes twinkling behind his round-framed glasses.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
He dropped his tool and rose from the floor. “I’m Keith Baxter, your mother’s next-door neighbor. You must be Karen.”
Surprised, she tried not to stare at the tall, attractive stranger. “My mother never mentioned you to me before.” Caution filled her voice.
“Well, she’s mentioned you to me, dozens of times.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Where is my mother?”
“She’s at Bible study over at the church. She asked me to stay and fix her sink while she was out. Said she’d be gone about an hour.”
Karen huffed, dropping her purse on the table. Great, just great. When I need Mom the most, I’m left here alone with a complete stranger. She sank into a kitchen chair, arms folded, foot tapping. “How much longer are you going to be?”
The plumber narrowed his gorgeous eyes, scanning her from head to toe. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? You’re sure in a sour mood.”
She closed her eyes, mentally counting to ten, then silently prayed, Lord, forgive me for my sharp words. Since Lionel’s disappearance, Karen’s moods had altered drastically. She’d hoped and prayed she’d be over Lionel’s deception by now, but so far, animosity toward her fiancé consumed her, affecting her interactions with others. She opened her tear-filled eyes and blinked, again realizing that Lionel was gone. Did that mean they were no longer engaged? How did you break a commitment when your future mate disappeared?
The repairman pressed a tissue into her hand.
Resigned, Karen blew her nose, wondering if she would ever stop crying over Lionel. She turned away, ashamed of her abrupt and rude behavior. After wiping her tears, she glanced at the stranger. “Look, what’s your name again?”
He plopped into the empty chair beside her. The delicious scent of his cologne teased her nose, and she tried to ignore the smell while getting her emotions under control.
“I’m Keith Baxter,” he said, his deep voice now soft and somehow comforting.
“Well, Keith, I’m sorry I snapped at you. It wasn’t intentional, but I just really wanted to spend some quiet time with my mom.” Sniffling, she glanced around the spotless kitchen. “I’m just surprised she’s not here.”
“Did she know you were coming?”
Karen shook her head. “Not really. I’d told her I was coming the day after tomorrow, but I decided to make the trip a little earlier.” She paused for a few seconds. “If she’d invest in voice mail, I could’ve left her a message when I called last night.”
“She was at the church until late. The women’s choir is rehearsing for the Easter Sunday service in a few weeks.”
She fingered her engagement ring, wondering if she should remove it. “I didn’t realize my mother had joined the choir.”
Curiosity shone from his caramel-colored eyes. “So how long are you going to visit?”
She continued toying with her ring. “I’m not here to visit. I’m here to stay.”
“You’re going to live here? For how long?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say.”
“Your mom told me you’ve been going through a lot with your ex and all.”
She gasped. “Why would she tell you about that?” Then she said half to herself, “I wonder if she told anybody else.”
“I’m not sure why your mom confided to me, but I don’t think she told anybody else.”
Well, that’s a small measure of comfort. Wonder why Mom would tell this guy anything about my life. Just how close is Mom to Keith Baxter, anyway? Before she could voice her thoughts, the front door opened.
“Karen!” Her mother rushed into the kitchen.
“Mom!” She hugged her mother tightly, glad to finally be home and in her arms. For a long moment, they continued to hold each other. A loud clunk resounded from under the sink as Keith resumed his repair.
Her mother finally released Karen and walked toward Keith, touching him on the shoulder. “Hi, Keith. Thanks for staying to fix my sink.”
He poked his head out from underneath the sink, giving her mother a warm smile. “You’re welcome. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”
As he continued his work, her mother led Karen into the living room.
Karen fingered her mother’s short, stylish gray tresses. “Mom, you cut your hair.”
“Do you like it? I got so tired of wearing my hair back in that bun. I’m much too old to have that much hair anyway.”
“It looks nice. It’s just such a big surprise.” Karen smiled, recalling how her father loved her mother’s long hair. “Keith told me you’ve joined the choir, too.”
“Well, it was time for me to get out of my rut.”
The women were silent for a few seconds before her mother spoke again. “When I saw your car in the driveway, I was surprised. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?”
Before she could answer, her mother looked at her closely as they took a seat on the couch. “You look thinner! Karen, if you don’t start eating something, you’ll fade away to nothing!”
“Mom, so much has been happening.” Karen glanced toward the kitchen, lowering her voice. “And I don’t feel comfortable talking to you with that guy in the kitchen. He might hear us. Can we go into my old bedroom where there’s more privacy?”
“Of course, dear, if you’d like.”
Seconds later, they entered her childhood bedroom. The familiar twin bed and cream-colored walls soothed her frazzled nerves. Lying back onto the mattress, Karen rested her head on the fluffy pillow. “I feel so tired.”
“You look tired.” The older woman peered at Karen. “Now tell me what’s on your mind, child. You’ve barely spoken to me since Lionel disappeared. And the few times I’ve managed to get you on the phone, you just tell me that you’re fine.” She sighed. “But I know better.”
“I’m handling things, Mom.”
“Humph. No, you’re not. You didn’t even want to tell me what had happened with Lionel. If it hadn’t been for your friends Monica and Anna, I wouldn’t have known a thing.”
Karen frowned, her eyes resting on the emerald green curtains. “They should have minded their own business. I would have told you when I was ready.”
“Pumpkin, they were worried about you. I’m glad they told me.”
“Listen, Mom, before we start talking about Lionel, I want to know why you have some strange man in your house when you’re out at Bible study.”
Her mother wrinkled her nose. “Strange man? Keith is my friend. And my next-door neighbor.” Touching her daughter’s hand, she continued to speak. “Remember I told you I joined a new church?”
“I remember.”
“Well, Keith is a member there.”
“Mom, the man had the nerve to mention Lionel.” Her voice wavered.” H–he’s a stranger to me, and you—you’ve aired my dirty laundry to him?”
“Karen, I happened to mention it to Keith the day after Monica and Anna called. I didn’t tell anybody that you know.”
Karen blew air through her lips, still upset. “Well, how do you know he didn’t tell anybody? In this neighborhood everybody seems to know everyone else’s business.”
Her mom touched her shoulder. “Honey, please don’t get so worked up over such a small thi
ng. Keith is very blunt, and he doesn’t always think before he speaks. But he’s a good Christian man, and his heart is in the right place.” She rubbed her daughter’s shoulder. “He’s been a blessing since he moved in six months ago. He’s a plumber, and he’s good at fixing other things, too. This house is over fifty years old, and things are falling apart. He’s been helping me out a lot.” She pulled Karen into a hug. “That’s enough talk about Keith. I’m sorry I told him your business. Now why don’t you tell me about Lionel? I’ve been praying for you, hoping you would find the courage to tell me how you’ve been doing. It hurts that you shut me out of your life after Lionel disappeared.”
Taking her mother’s hand, Karen’s voice softened. “Mom, I’m sorry. I—I haven’t really spoken to anybody about what happened, except for Monica and Anna—and the police. They know all about it, but I—I haven’t told them how I feel.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve stopped going to church. Mom, it just hurts too much. A lot of the people look at me like they feel sorry for me, and some people act like I’m responsible for Lionel’s actions! The church secretary wonders why I didn’t realize that Lionel was so dishonest. I overheard one woman talking to somebody when I was in the bathroom stall. She wondered if I’d helped Lionel steal from the church and if I knew of his whereabouts.” She shivered. “I don’t need their false accusations, and I certainly don’t want their pity. I can’t go back there, Mom.”
A brisk knock at the door interrupted Karen’s tirade.
Keith’s voice resounded from behind the closed door. “Ms. Doris, your sink works. You can give it a try if you like.”
“Thanks, Keith. Is it okay if I come to your house later to pay the bill?”
“No problem.” Seconds later, the heavy clomp of boots against hardwood floors echoed in the house.
After hearing the door shut, Karen said, “Oh, Mom, he gets on my nerves! Couldn’t he have waited until we were done talking before he interrupted us?”
Doris’s brow furrowed. “Lionel’s disappearance has gotten you into a tizzy. You’re usually not so sour.”
Karen stood and walked to the window. She lifted the curtain and spotted Keith going to his driveway. In front of his house, an ivory van, emblazoned with Baxter’s Plumbing in black script lettering, rested next to a sporty black car. After placing a toolbox into the back of his van, he turned toward her window and looked right at her. He waved before getting into his work van and driving away. Somewhat embarrassed, she dropped the curtain.
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