Amber Alert: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 1)

by Linda K. Rodante

  Good. But he needed a diversion. Her mass of curls, the expressive eyes, even the paint-accented t-shirt, were distractions of the wrong kind—right now. Back to the dolls.

  “Some dog chewed the doll, however. Maybe brought it to the field. Which is odd. The other doll was purposely placed in Joshua’s car seat. This one…well, I wonder where it came from.”

  They drove in silence for a while. Sharee leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. After a few minutes, though, she opened them and stared out the window.

  He sent her a long look. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  He reached across and gave her hand a squeeze. “Are you tired?”

  “Yes, and I know I look horrible.”

  He chuckled. “No, but you do have a few well-placed paint splatters.”

  “What? I do?” She straightened. “Where?”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re fine. Here we are, anyway. You’re stuck with them for now.”

  The deli’s lights welcomed them with laughter and the smell of fresh bread. A hostess led them to a room with dim lighting and small tables backed against the windows. Lights from outside twinkled against the glass.

  The hostess handed them each a large menu, and Sharee bent her head, studying it. John scrutinized her. How could he get past the reserve, the fear that she evidenced? She’d been sobbing that first day they’d met. Was that the problem? A relationship gone bad? That made sense. But if so, whatever happened had left her afraid either of men in particular—and his gut tightened at the thought of what that could mean—or simply frightened of another relationship.

  The waitress brought a basket of rolls with their order of sweet tea. Sharee put her hand out to take one and met John’s. She snatched her hand away.

  He grinned and held the basket toward her. “Don’t eat all the brown knots, please.”

  She took one, gave him a malicious smile, and bit into it. “I think these will be my favorites.”

  “Ah. I’m in for competition.” He took the other one and buttered it.

  Sharee glanced around the room. John followed her gaze. The designer had covered the deli’s walls with every conceivable view of New York City and much memorabilia.

  She waved what was left of her roll at him. “Oh, New York deli.”

  “Nothing gets past you.”

  “Drop the sarcasm, or I’ll eat the last of your favorite rolls.”

  “I’ve always admired women who can out-eat me.”

  Sharee gave him a mocking smile and reached for another knot. “They have a big menu.”

  “Have you been here before? I assumed you had. Popular place.”

  “I have, but it was a while ago. I might need to try a number of items.”

  “You’re going to make me pay well for your company?”

  “You practically kidnapped me.”

  He wanted to laugh, but reached into the bread basket and took the last brown knot, instead. “Well, if you plan on eating that much, you won’t need this.” He broke it and bit in half.

  “I bet they’ll bring another basket if I ask.”

  He glanced at the last half of the roll and with an exaggerated sigh held it out to her.

  “Oh, no, I wouldn’t deprive you.”

  “Good.” He popped it into his mouth.

  “Pig.”

  He finished the roll and downed some tea. “All right. I’ll order another basketful.”

  “No, you won’t. I’m gonna order a table full of food. If the waitress ever returns—” Sharee bit off the words. The waitress stopped next to them. Embarrassed heat ran up Sharee’s neck.

  “Excuse my dinner companion.” John tried to control his laughter. “She’s had a stressful day. In fact, I think she’s ready to order one of everything.”

  Sharee glanced up at the waitress, who had her pencil ready and a blank expression on her face. She picked up the menu.

  “I’ll have a bowl of the matzo ball soup, please. Also, the hot dog and bun with sauerkraut. A salami sandwich with Swiss cheese on rye. An extra pickle and potato salad on the side. And the Jasmine salad.” She took a deep breath. “Oh, and we need another basket of bread—particularly, those rolls that look like brown knots.”

  She glanced at John. He shook his head but smiled.

  “And for dessert…”

  “Dessert is free with the meal.” The waitress stated.

  “Free?”

  “Yes, you get to pick from cheesecake or apple strudel.”

  “What if I want both?”

  “Well, you could each get one and share.”

  “What if I want both for myself?”

  The waitress hesitated. Her eyes started to shift to John then stopped. “I’ll see if I can get both for you for free.”

  “No, no, that’s all right.” Sharee’s eyes met his. “He’s paying. It’s quite all right.”

  The waitress finished writing and turned to John. “You, sir?”

  John kept his face serious. “I’ll take the salami and Swiss cheese also. On rye. Greek salad, dressing on the side. The cheesecake sounds fine. Do you have chocolate chip cheesecake today?”

  “Yes, I’ll bring you an extra-large piece.”

  They stayed quiet while the waitress wove through the tables toward the kitchen. Sharee gave him a wide smile, and he settled back in his chair.

  “I doubt if you finish two bites of each.”

  “Just watch. Next time you’ll think twice before messing with my car and taking me hostage.”

  “The Ransom of Red Chief?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “The man is educated!”

  He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold.

  “Sharee…”

  “John, I…I need to run to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He released her hand. What could he do? Even though it sounded like an excuse, he couldn’t keep her there. But as she left, she stopped their waitress and talked with her briefly before making her way to the ladies’ room.

  When she returned, she’d washed some paint splashes from her neck and face, combed through her unruly hair, and added lipstick.

  She sat across the table from him. “I wonder if our waitress is always so good at hiding her feelings?”

  “I wonder what it would take—or cost me—to get a serious conversation with you?”

  She looked down at the table. He reached for her hand, tightening his grip again as she tried to pull free. When she bit her lip, he rolled her fingers into her palm and let her go.

  He broke the quiet that huddled over them. “So, tell me, what did you add to your order?”

  “My order?”

  “I saw you stop and talk with the waitress.”

  “You did? Well, you’ll have to wait and see.”

  Her voice had teased, but he didn’t miss the tension there, too. He bent his head. How could he get past that defense?

  “John?”

  As he raised his head, he noticed a familiar figure coming through the main doorway.

  “I need to tell you something.” Sharee’s voice held more tenseness than before. “You asked before why…why…”

  “Marci just walked in.”

  “What?”

  He indicated the front of the deli with his head.

  “Mommy, I want dat! I want dat!” A child’s voice, lifted in demanding tones, cut across the room.

  Sharee twisted around. “It is Marci. With Lizzie and Joshua. My, she’s doing a lot of running around already.”

  The small girl by Marci’s side tugged on her mother’s arm and pointed to the dessert case. Marci cradled the baby in a front sling. His hand reached for her face only to grab a length of long hair and pull. Marci grimaced and let go of the toddler’s hand to extract the baby’s fingers from her hair.

  John pushed away from t
he table. “I think I’ll go help. You want her to join us here?”

  “Yes, that will be—” Sharee touched his arm. “Wait.”

  A man walked up behind Marci. He said something, and Marci glanced over her shoulder, her mouth popping open. The man smiled, leaned over and took the toddler’s hand. The little girl slapped at him, laughing. A moment later, he stood again and talked with Marci.

  “That’s Ted Hogan, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  He dropped his head to study her. “What’s that tone for?”

  “Nothing. I…”

  John sat back down. “If it’s nothing, why is your face radiating disapproval?”

  Sharee put a hand to her mouth. “Is it?”

  “Definitely. You don’t like Ted?”

  “He’s been following her. She said something not long ago.”

  John inclined his head toward the small group. “And he’s hitting on her now.”

  “What’s his problem? She’s married, and this is her seventh child. Joshua’s barely a month old. I don’t understand this.”

  John watched as they sat at a table on the other side of the room. Ted handled the toddler and managed to pull the seat out for Marci, too. In a moment, he reached to help untangle Marci’s hair from Joshua’s grip.

  “She’s still an attractive woman, Sharee. Tired and in need of help. Some men find that attractive. If a woman is needy, dependent.”

  “But Marci’s not like that. She’s not needy. She’s just—overwhelmed with the new baby. I’ve talked with her, and it’s a bit much. Neither the kids nor Stephan is much help. Stephen’s a good man. He’s good with... well, he’s good with the older children. Not so good when they’re this age.”

  “While Ted looks like he’s made for this.”

  The waitress stepped next to their table. One hand held a tray of food. She set down another basket of rolls between them, then two Greek salads, followed by two plates filled with thick sandwiches, pickles, and chips. “I’ll get you some more tea,” she said and disappeared.

  John examined Sharee’s plate for a minute. She’d changed her order. He lifted his head.

  “Well,” she answered his unspoken question, flustered. “Well…”

  “You’re a wimp.”

  “I am not! I’m just a good person. I felt sorry for you.”

  “Uh huh. Sure.”

  “Why is it people always make you feel bad when you’re trying to be nice?”

  He chuckled. “Are you, at least, getting the two desserts?”

  She glanced down at her plate. “Do I have to?”

  Now he laughed. She looked overwhelmed herself. “We’ll share as she suggested. But Sharee…”

  “Yes?”

  “You should have made me pay.”

  She said nothing for a moment, picking up her fork and eyeing the salad. Then she met his look and smiled. “As you indicated a week or so ago, there are other ways.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll remember that.”

  “Good. Do.”

  He stopped as he reached for the mustard, lifting the brow higher. She laughed and dug into her salad.

  Chapter 11

  They passed Marci’s table when they left, but she didn’t notice, and they didn’t stop. Sharee wasn’t sure what she’d say. John had glanced her way, but she shook her head. What was going on in her friend’s life? Her heart squeezed when she thought of Stephen and the children. Something was wrong. Marci hadn’t told Stephen about the dolls, and here she sat with Ted.

  Just as they neared the exit, Ted glanced up. She knew he saw her stare, but he said nothing. Her mind churned as they walked out. Ted had parked right outside the restaurant. Sharee seethed inside. He’d probably noticed Marci going in and shot up here to follow her. She stared into the back of his car.

  A baby’s car seat? What was he doing with a car seat?

  Not until they drove into the church parking lot did Sharee remember the problem with her Honda. She cocked her head. “What did you do to my car?”

  “You cleaned the terminals, right? Well, I figured they would still be loose enough to lift off—leaving you with no power. Now, if you had a newer car…”

  “Hey, don’t put down my car. It runs.”

  He glanced sideways at her. “Most of the time?”

  “Yes. I mean…until the other day.”

  “The other day? More like four weeks ago.” His voice became serious. “I’m surprised the motor still turns over.”

  “I know you said it might need a battery, but it’s been starting pretty well. Perhaps it was the terminals…”

  His look combined impatience and something else, which Sharee could not name. She scrambled down from the truck. For all his teasing, certain things seemed to set him off. Lightheartedness gave way to seriousness as quickly as the turtles scrambled into the water when she approached the pond.

  John handed her the bag of peppermints she’d bought at the dollar store and went around to lift the hood. She pulled the hood latch and waited until he stuck his head out.

  “Okay. Try it.”

  She turned the key. It coughed once and started.

  After dropping the hood, he stepped next to her door and settled his hand on the car near her shoulder. “Sharee.”

  His voice carried that depth to it—that seriousness that made her want to run. She tried to think of something to say.

  He reached into his jeans’ pocket, hauled out her phone and handed it to her. “When are we going to talk about it?”

  She said nothing, knowing what he meant. When was she going to tell him why she kept pushing him away? The moment had passed in the restaurant. Be instant in season and out of season. As much as she didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want what would happen between them when she did, he deserved the truth. She took a deep breath.

  “All right then.” His voice cut across her thoughts. “I promised you ‘dinner only’ tonight, but next time…” He moved away from the window, and amusement returned to his voice. “Next time the kid gloves are off, girl.” He slapped the trunk of her car, walked around his truck and climbed into the cab.

  Sharee waited for a minute, glad for the darkness that hid her expression, glad for a chance to escape the explanation one more time. She backed out of the parking space and pulled forward, telling herself not to worry. She had started to tell him, but he’d stopped her.

  As she went by his truck, she drew a long, uneasy breath. She knew what God said in His Word, and she wasn’t doing it. Instead, she was running again, and leaving an opening for the enemy.

  Okay, Lord. Okay. I’ll do it next time. Right when I see him, I’ll tell him. I promise.

  ~.~.~

  The next morning, dread still fluttered in her stomach like the erratic movement of a bat in flight. She’s tossed on the mattress all night. Why hadn’t she told him?

  John’s face filled her vision, his brown eyes warm and teasing. After the food had arrived at their table the night before, they’d talked and laughed. Nothing personal. Everything non-threatening. Only when they arrived back at her car had he broached the subject of…what? Their relationship? Is that what he wanted?

  Whatever he wants, it’s impossible. He doesn’t know the Lord. End of debate. She pushed herself to a sitting position and raised her hand to her chest. The cry of her heart since she was little was to serve the Lord and to marry someone with whom she could do that.

  In almost thirty years, she hadn’t found that someone. Maybe God wanted her to remain single. She’d talked to Him about this numerous times. If He would just tell her, then she could forget the idea of marrying, of having children. Tears rose unexpectedly.

  And, of course, she ran men off. They laughed at her idea of purity until they found out she was serious. Then they either got angry or simply disappeared. Others thought her work at Downtown Ministries nice but tried to finesse her into getting a “real” jo
b. “One that paid,” they said. Her’s paid—just not much. Yeah, she’d run off everyone, except Dean…

  Stop whining, Sharee. Stop it!

  She forced a smile and walked to her closet, shuffling through the hanging clothes and stopped with her hand on the yellow dress, the one she’d worn when she’d noticed John working in the field a few Sundays back. He had liked the dress. She’d seen it in his eyes. Perhaps he’d be working during church again today. Perhaps…

  Stop acting like a love-sick school girl!

  She straightened, shoved the yellow dress out of the way and yanked out a dark blue one.

  ~.~.~

  Twelve hours later, at sunset, Lynn drove her into the church parking lot. Her Honda CR-V occupied the first space. A couple spaces down, John’s truck was parked.

  She stared at the Ram insignia. You’re not going to let me out of this, are you, Lord? No way around it. No miracles. Just do it. She drew in her breath. All right.

  Lynn turned off the car’s engine. “Great Bible study at Marci’s, wasn’t it? Stephen has such knowledge about God’s Word, and the youth enjoyed the way he told that story about Elijah and Jezebel and the prophets of Baal.”

  “Yes, that was good, but I wish the girls had helped Marci instead of creating a problem.”

  Lynn laughed. “I just loved the way you took the baby from Abbey and said neither of the girls could hold him—that you were going to take care of him for the afternoon.”

  “I couldn’t believe how they interrupted Stephen with their quarreling.”

  “Besides you wanted to hold him yourself, didn’t you?”

  Sharee started to deny it but didn’t. “He is a darling.”

  “Yeah, you looked like a mother hen cooing to him.”

  Lynn stretched and looked at the church. “Are you staying for the evening service?”

  Sharee’s eyes focused on John’s truck. “I don’t think so. Are you?”

  “No, I’m heading home. No one’s here yet so we can slink away before they see us.” Lynn put a well-manicured hand on the wheel. “Except John, of course, and he’s not going.”

  Sharee glanced around. “I wonder where he is.”