She started for the front door then slowed, eyeing the van. An older model. Good. Perhaps…
She walked to the driver’s side and saw the car seat in the back. With a quick movement, she snatched open the driver’s door. Her breathing sounded loud in her ears. Could she do this? A quick prayer went to heaven, and then she leaned forward and yanked on the hood latch. Two minutes later, she eased the hood down and headed for the front door.
A dog hit the fence on her left, snarling and barking. She jumped back. Shock leaped through her, and her hand rose to her chest. She should have remembered. The dog leaped at the fence again. The barking grew louder. A vicious display of teeth joined the noise. She sprinted for the front door.
Her knuckles made quick, loud knocks on the door. No answer. She knocked again, the sound mingled with the pit bull’s growl and the whine from the fence as he jumped against it. Minutes passed. Sharee pounded, thumped, banged.
As she lifted her sore knuckles once more, the door flew open.
“What do you want?” Roseanne glared at her then whirled toward the dog. “Shut-up, Bull! Quiet!” The dog subsided, but a continual snarl rolled their way. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
Sharee stared. The red hair was now brown, and the bright clothes with matching earrings had changed, too. The woman was dressed in all black and had one slender necklace circling her throat. Behind her, the room was bare except for a sofa, coffee table, and lamp. Nothing else, and nothing on the walls or tables.
She brought her attention back to the woman. “I want Joshua.”
Roseanne blocked her way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m busy.” She tried to close the door.
Sharee stuck her foot out and grabbed the door.
The other woman tried to yank it free. “What are you doing? Let go!”
“No. Let me in.”
The dog’s barking increased. Roseanne turned and shouted at him. Sharee, feeling the urgency, stepped past her into the room. Suitcases were stacked next to the door.
“Hey! What are you doing?” The woman tried to step in front of her.
“I told you. I want Joshua.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t you?” Sharee leaned over and lifted a diaper bag from among the luggage. If she’d had needed something to confirm her hunch, the diaper bag did it.
“Leave that alone!” Roseanne yanked it from her hand and dropped it to the floor.
“Besides Bruce and Pedro, you were the only one who didn’t search for Joshua last night. Pedro left way before the program ended. And Bruce, well let’s just say Bruce has God for an alibi. Do you have an alibi, Roseanne? You came back and talked to the police, but then you disappeared again.”
“I came home to check on my dog. All the lights and sirens last night upset him.”
“Like he is now, you mean? Is he the one who found that first doll and carried it off to the field and left it? Where had you put it? Wherever it was, your dog found it, didn’t he? We all know he gets out of that fence once in a while. You recognized it that night, didn’t you? That’s why you were so horrified.”
“I told you, already. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looked past Sharee and shouted at the dog once more. Her eyes shifted. She glanced over her shoulder.
Sharee’s gaze followed hers down the hall, and she took a step forward. Roseanne shifted her position and blocked her.
“You need to get out of here.”
“Not without the baby.”
Roseanne’s hand shot out, grabbing her arm, shoving her back toward the open door. “Get out!”
Sharee struggled with her, yanking free. “Tell me why you have a car seat in your van. You couldn’t have bought one just to carry Joshua around when Marci needed help. She has one for him. No, you got it because even before he was born, you planned to kidnap him, didn’t you?”
“You’re crazy!” Roseanne grabbed the door and tried to force Sharee back so she could close it. In the background, the dog’s snarl continued, and the woman’s eye flicked its way.
Where was John? Hadn’t he got her text? If he didn’t come soon, how would she get Joshua away from this woman?
“I told you I’m busy,” Roseanne said. She glanced at her watch. “I want you to leave. If not, I’ll call the police.”
“Yeah. Do that. In fact, I might.”
Roseanne’s eyes narrowed, her face drew tight, and then her look changed. She hesitated a moment. “Okay. You want to see the baby? Okay. Come on. I’ll show you.” And when Sharee hesitated, she smirked. “You do want to see him, don’t you?”
A horrible feeling went up Sharee’s spine. Dear God, she prayed, please let him be okay. Please. “Yes,” she managed. “Yes, I do.”
Roseanne made a motion with her hand, waving Sharee inside; and when Sharee stepped forward, Roseanne closed the door.
~.~.~
John stood at the office window when Sharee drove past. He frowned. She hadn’t slept long, if at all. Well, he hadn’t either. He craned his neck to see where she parked. Behind the buildings like Ted? An alarm went off inside, but he relaxed. He’d seen Ted go out with another search party just a short time ago.
Behind him, the pastor moved around the office, picking up things, putting them down, stacking books that lay on the receptionist’s desk.
John turned to him, “What’s wrong with you, Alan? You’re turning into a fidgety old man.”
The pastor looked up, distracted. “I don’t know.” He thought for a moment, shrugged, and began to pace. Under his breath, he began to pray.
John watched him and shook his head. “Look, I’m going to go find out which area we need to search next.”
“Yeah. Do that.” Alan reached for his chair and turned it so the seat faced him. He knelt down. He motioned to John. “No, John, wait. Pray.” He put his elbows on the seat of the chair, leaned over, and began to pray.
John watched for a minute. His gaze ricocheted between the door and his cousin. He started to sit down in the other chair, but stopped, took the cell phone from his pocket and placed it on the desk. The clip had broken during the night’s search. He sat in the nearest chair and bowed his head.
~.~.~
Sharee stood looking down at Joshua in the portable crib. The small room cocooned him. Besides the crib, a chest of drawers, a changing table, and a rocking chair crowded the space. Roseanne had planned well. The hair on the back of Sharee’s neck rose, but she leaned over the baby. His sound sleep and easy breathing soothed her worry.
God, she prayed, you have to stop this woman—for her own sake and for the baby’s.
Her eyes rose to meet Roseanne’s hard gaze. It’s strange, Sharee realized, but I’m not afraid right now.
“Roseanne, this baby has done nothing to you. He’s only two months old. Let me take him home.”
The woman’s eyes darkened. “He hasn’t done anything, but his mother has. She killed my son. Killed him. She took mine; now I’m taking hers.”
“How did she kill your son?” But she knew already. It’s why she’d come here. And the woman had already confirmed what she’d thought, what God had showed her. A substitution—’She took mine; now I’m taking hers.’
“In a car accident. Oh, she and the police tried to blame me. They said I ran the red light, but she was speeding!” Her voice grew louder. “Look at Bruce. Look what she did to him. He goes around all the time acting like it’s okay. Being so sweet and kind to her like they were still friends, but I know how he feels.”
“I was on vacation when the accident happened. I only heard a little about it. Marci doesn’t talk about it much.”
“Of course not. Sweep it all under the rug, you Christians. She only called me once and didn’t even come to the funeral.” Her face stilled. “She killed my son, and he was all I had.”
“Roseanne, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.
” Two years. She’s waited two years to get revenge. Had the pain built until she could stand it no longer? Sharee noticed her dead eyes. “But the other woman’s name, wasn’t it Sheraton? Something like that?”
“Yes, Midge Sheraton, that’s me. You didn’t think I’d come here and give my real name, did you? I watched for weeks in the mall, waiting until I saw a woman who looked something like me and then followed her until I could steal her purse.”
“But the detectives they…”
“Think I am Roseanne Sawyer as they’re supposed too. I told them last night I had my purse stolen and then moved down here, so my new ID has my old address. If the other woman filed a report, that’s all they’ll see. A stolen purse. They’ll figure it out, but not before I’m gone.” Her eyes narrowed.
“But the deputies canvassed the area last night.”
“I was in and back out of here before they started. Dropped off the baby with a little cold medicine that put him to sleep, and I went back to the church.” Her mouth stretched into a sneer. “And answered all their questions. I gave them everything they wanted on everyone else. They think I’m a gossip, but it got them looking at others, not me.”
“But…how did you away without any of us seeing you? And the dogs. They weren’t able to track you.”
“You think I’m stupid because I dressed like that? I made up that persona. You all laughed behind my back, I’m sure, but that’s what I wanted. And when I volunteered for your little Christmas program, I knew it would give me the chance I wanted, and I was right.”
“But…”
“I suggested the manger in the back to Marci. It went like clockwork. When everyone was singing—so nice of you to have us all sing at the end—I just slipped away, slipped through that little door, grabbed Joshua and walked into the night.”
“But the dogs. They should have tracked you.”
“Ha. Dogs aren’t miracle workers. A few feet from the road, I grabbed the scarf I had for the costume.” She stopped and grinned. “Now you know why I was so upset when I couldn’t find it? It was just the size to cover him completely and stiff enough not to smother him when I put him into the bag.”
“Into the bag?” Her voice elevated.
“Yeah, it was actually one of those insulated diaper bags. I fixed it so no one would know. I wrapped him in the scarf and put him in the bag and zipped it up.”
Sharee felt her eyes widening. The woman sounded crazy. Was she really going to try to fly out of here with Joshua? Suddenly, a cold chill crept up her spine. Where was John? She needed help.
Midge Sheraton laughed. “Yes, I did have it figured out. I carried him home in the diaper bag—all wrapped up so no skin cells got out. Insulated bag. Tracking dogs have their noses to the ground, but they weren’t tracking me, and I had used that route so many times, it wouldn’t have made a difference, anyway. Even if they tracked me to the house. I’ve walked home that way every night during practice.”
“But why didn’t you leave last night?”
“And let them know for sure who to look for? This way, they have plenty of suspects. Bruce, Ted, even Marci. Those girls. That homeless man that’s been hanging around. I even implied that you knew more than you were telling.” The satisfaction in her voice slithered over Sharee’s nerves. “They’ll take another day or two checking everyone’s information, and I’ll be gone before that. No one but Marci will miss me for days, and Marci has too much on her mind to consider what it might mean.”
Sharee’s heart stuttered. No one would miss her for days unless Sharee sent up the alarm. Dear Lord, I need help. “You can’t do this, you know. It’s wrong, and you’ll never get away with it.”
“You think I care about what’s right or wrong?”
“Yes, I think you do. If you want revenge, then you know there’s a right and wrong.” She studied the woman. “You couldn’t have known about Marci’s pregnancy when you came. Had you planned something else?”
Roseanne’s mouth thinned. “I wasn’t sure. I dyed my hair and wore those outrageous clothes. I knew she’d never recognize me. She’d only seen me once. I could do whatever I wanted after I got here. When I heard she was pregnant, then I knew. But I didn’t want her to be happy about it. I wanted her miserable. So, I got the dolls. But you know about that, don’t you? You kept interfering. That’s why I left one on your door.” She spun around, grabbed a purse from the rocking chair, and yanked something from it. When she swung back, a gun pointed at Sharee’s chest.
Everything stopped. She could only stare at the gun. Either I’m going to die, or I’m going to walk out of here with Joshua. Which one, Lord?
“Get in the closet.” Midge Sheraton ordered.
“You can’t do this.” Sharee kept her voice soft.
“You don’t know what I can do. I came to get revenge, and it doesn’t matter how I do it. But Joshua…Joshua will replace Kenny. God is smiling on me.”
Kenny, Sharee repeated the name to herself. Sharee felt compassion wash over her.
“Roseanne…I mean Mrs. Sheraton, God isn’t smiling on you. Satan is tempting you. You’re not a kidnapper. You’re a mother who has lost a son. You’re hurting.”
“Don’t give me your platitudes. What would you know about it?” The words erupted with emotional debris.
Sharee leaned back, took a long breath. “I don’t, but other people do. John lost his wife. Ryann lost her baby. Look at God, His Son died, too.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“But it should. God’s Son died for you because He loves you.”
The woman’s look hardened. The gun rose higher. “I don’t need his love. Get in the closet, or I’ll pull the trigger.”
Sharee didn’t move, but her glance slid toward Joshua. Lord…. “Let me take the baby home, Mrs.…Sheraton. He’s innocent. Just like your son was.”
“Don’t talk about my son!”
“Tell me about him.”
“I don’t want to talk about him!” She waved the gun. Pain rolled across her face. “He was only ten. Only ten. He was all I had.”
Sharee remained silent, praying, asking for the right words, the right tone, asking the Lord to heal this woman whose pain had led her to such devastating actions.
The woman focused on Sharee again. Her face straightened. The gun focused. A cold shiver ran up Sharee’s spine.
“Mrs. Sheraton,” Sharee kept her words soft, “your son wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“Don’t tell me what my son would want.”
“Your son was a child. Children don’t like to hurt things. He wouldn’t want you to do this.”
“Stop saying that!” She put both hands to her ears, but still clutched the gun in her right one.
Sharee started to move, then halted. In the movies, the heroine would jump the other woman, grab the gun and get free. Should she? The distance between them, getting around the crib, looked impossible. What if they struggled? What if the gun went off and the bullet hit Joshua? She stopped. I’m not the heroic type, Lord. And I can’t risk Joshua. Help.
Sharee cleared her throat. “What would Kenny want you to do?”
The woman lowered her hands and pointed the gun at Sharee’s chest.
Chapter 33
The late afternoon sun slanted across the field. John paced back and forth in front of the bleachers, his mind jumping from one thought to another.
Three years had passed since he’d done any substantial praying. When he’d let himself out of the office a few minutes ago, Alan still knelt, still prayed. How long can you pray without knowing what you’re praying for? His own prayers had centered on Sharee and Joshua and their safety. He hadn’t understood why he’d included prayer for Sharee’s safety. She should be here somewhere. He needed to find her.
He started to pass the bleachers but stopped. A memory had intruded—of teenagers holding hands, deep in prayer. At seventeen, he’d stood with them, seeking Go
d with all his heart. The reality and the emotions of that time swept over him, along with the passion God’s love had created in him.
His heart jerked; his head lifted. What do you want from me?
Will you serve me?
Pain rolled back and forth like the thrust and withdrawal of the tides. If he never understood about Janice, he still needed to make a decision about God. Was God good? Was He righteous? Was He worth serving as John once thought?
Life wasn’t what you wanted. It wasn’t heaven, and maybe that’s what created the problem. His desire for heaven on earth. Like Abraham, he’d looked for a city whose builder and maker was God, a place of no sorrow and no more tears. But those words talked about heaven, not earth.
Will you serve me?
John raised his head again. I promised that if you saved Joshua, I would serve you. Silence encompassed him. That’s not what you want, is it? You want me without the strings, without conditions, like Sharee said.
Swallowing, he sat on the bleachers, his soul challenged. He pictured Jesus on the cross, and he bowed his head. Anguish and repentance washed over him. Forgive me, Lord, my hard-heartedness, my anger. You have loved me even when I wanted nothing to do with you. Forgive me. Yes, I’ll serve you. God’s presence seemed to envelope him as it had the night before, the residue of anger and pain washed from him.
Rising, he began to pace again, praying in repentance and submission, and mumbling, “Whatever you want, Lord. Whatever you want.”
~.~.~
The gun looked enormous. Around it, everything wavered. The chill chased up Sharee’s spine again. She raised her eyes to the woman before her. Midge Sheraton’s blank expression seared Sharee’s heart.
“You don’t want to do this, Mrs. Sheraton. Let me take Joshua home.”
Amber Alert: Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 1) Page 25
