Finding Christmas

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  “She’s afraid. I can hear it in her voice, her breathing.”

  Benjamin glanced away for a moment so he could think. When he looked at Joanne, all he could see was her desperate expression, and his reason faded. “She’s frightened of…?” He faltered. “She could be worried you’d recognize her voice.”

  Joanne lifted her shoulders. “Or she could be scared someone will hear the call.”

  “Maybe someone told her not to get involved.” His legal mind kicked in, questioning the caller’s motivation. No matter what it had been, the woman’s question was a strange one—a sick one.

  Joanne looked at him with sad, searching eyes as if she hoped he had an answer. He didn’t.

  “Who else knew Greg’s accident happened this time of year? Did you mention the date of the accident at work?”

  “I never talk about it there.” She paused. “I did mention it to Nita. She said I looked stressed out, and I told her.”

  “About the date?”

  “Yes, and the voice I heard. Nothing else.” She shifted and lowered her head. “I told Nita. No one else.”

  He pondered how to ask the next question. “Would she…Is she the kind of—?”

  “Nita? She would never do anything like you’re thinking. She’s always been a good friend. She’s very caring. It’s not her. I know. I’d bet my life on it.”

  Being a lawyer, Benjamin couldn’t be so certain. Many psychotics hid their disorders for years. However, Joanne’s determined look halted further comment. He’d let it slide for now.

  “No one else?”

  “No one. I’m positive.”

  “A church friend? An acquaintance?”

  Her brows lifted as her eyes widened. “No, absolutely not. I’ve never mentioned it, and I can’t believe anyone I know would want to hurt me like this.”

  “Okay,” he said, realizing he was getting nowhere. Joanne would defend a seasoned criminal. It was her gentle nature. “What about friends? Other people in your life.”

  She looked away, and he saw a look of pain spread across her face.

  “What other people?”

  “Friends. Who do you hang out with?”

  “No one since Greg died. I’m like the plague. People just vanished. No couple wants to hang out with a widow.”

  Benjamin’s chest tightened. “I’m sorry, Joanne. I’m shocked.”

  Her brows knit. “Maybe the women think I’ll try to steal their husbands. I don’t know.”

  Gazing at her beautiful face, Benjamin realized that to an insecure woman, Joanne might seem like a threat.

  “It’s not just friends. My family turned their backs on me. I’ve had no one but Nita and a few coworkers, but I don’t see them socially. I don’t know—maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. People don’t handle tragedy well.” He longed to hold her in his arms, but he fought the urge. “We’ll have to wait for another call.”

  “I can’t believe I have to wait for something so awful,” she said, rising to stir the simmering meat, “but this time the police will know who’s calling.”

  “You’ll know for sure who it is, and hopefully why she’s calling.”

  “The caller knows something about the accident, I’m sure of it. Maybe she knows where Mandy’s body is.”

  Benjamin’s heart rose to his throat. It didn’t take an attorney’s mind to question that idea. “Joanne, it’s been three years. Why would she call after all this time?”

  Joanne’s head drooped and she covered her face. “I don’t know how she’d know, Benjamin, but I feel it inside me. She knows something about my daughter.”

  Joanne shifted the papers on her desk, fighting to stay focused. If she messed up, Melissa Shafer or another candidate could walk away with her job. They all probably knew she was serving as an interim for a six-month period before she’d be handed the position permanently.

  “Ready for shopping tonight?”

  Joanne lifted her head and managed to smile at Nita. “I wore my walking shoes.” She swung her foot above her desk and pointed to her comfy footwear.

  “Good for you.” She gave her a thumbs-up and took a step, then leaned back into the doorway. “We have a meeting at ten, right?”

  “That’s what I hear,” Joanne said.

  Nita gave a nod and continued down the hallway.

  Joanne slipped her notes into the manila folder, then turned to her computer and opened her e-mail program. Her eyes scanned the list of messages. Nothing from Benjamin. A wave of disappointment rolled over her.

  Then she saw it. Shadow@123go.com.

  She hesitated, then moved her cursor to delete, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she clicked “read.”

  WATCH YOUR STEP.

  I HAVE MY EYES ON YOU.

  A chill rolled down her back as she hit delete.

  While sitting at the mall café, Joanne struggled to make conversation. “It’s a relief to get this much shopping finished. I have packages to ship out of state.” She lifted the frothy coffee and took a sip. Her thoughts shifted from the phone calls to the holidays. Her only joy this year would be Benjamin.

  “Are you visiting your folks this year for Christmas?” asked Nita.

  Memories of her unhappy Christmas visits home raced across her mind. Her pulse gave a little kick. “I’m staying in town.”

  “If you’re alone for Christmas dinner, you’re welcome to join us—”

  “Thanks, but I’m planning to do something with Benjamin.” She spotted the look on Nita’s face and stopped her. “We’re friends. Do I have to spell it out? It’s as far from romance as…well, as far from romance as you can get.”

  “Me thinks the woman doth protest—”

  “Nita. Stop. He’s worried about me as a friend and it’s nice to have someone I can trust drop by for a visit. I don’t have to play games with Benjamin.”

  “Why’s he worried?”

  Joanne felt her chest tighten. She wanted to avoid the details but how could she keep all of this from Nita? She took a minute to gather her courage. “For one, calls. Anonymous telephone calls.”

  Nita wrinkled her nose. “Here or at home?”

  “Home. Over a week ago. Occasionally it happened with one of Greg’s publicized trials or when a plaintiff didn’t like the court’s ruling. Lawyers take the brunt of a lot of anger as well as jokes.”

  Joanne shook her head. “I didn’t know, Nita.” She wondered how much to tell her. Benjamin seemed to think saying too much could cause more problems.

  “What did he say to you? Those perverts are sick.”

  “It’s not a man. It’s a woman. Until last Sunday she didn’t speak. She just hung up.”

  “Hung up?” Nita arched a brow and tilted her head. “Any idea who it could be?”

  Joanne wished she could say yes. “None at all. She spoke the first time last Sunday, but I didn’t recognize her voice. She whispered.”

  Nita’s face was filled with concern. “That’s weird.”

  “Benjamin asked about someone from Solutions, but who and why?” Joanne lifted her paper cup, then set it down again.

  “How about Bambi?” Nita’s mouth twisted to a faint grin.

  “Bambi?”

  Nita chuckled. “In the office next to yours. Melissa.”

  Joanne looked surprised. “I realize she didn’t get the promotion, but I don’t think she’d go that far.”

  “What about Daryl?”

  “Daryl?”

  “From the mail room.”

  “He’s a guy.” Joanne eyed Nita to see if she was joking.

  “I think he has a thing for you. Maybe he wants to ask you out, but he’s afraid. Perhaps every time he calls he loses his nerve. That makes sense.”

  “It’s a woman.”

  Nita grinned. “Have you ever listened to Daryl when he gets nervous? His pitch goes up an octave.”

  Joanne gave her a halfhearted smile.
She hated being evasive and realized she should open up and tell her the whole thing. “Last Sunday the caller asked me if Mandy’s body had been found.”

  “Oh, no.”

  Joanne realized she’d shocked her. “I’m sorry. I hate to talk about it.”

  “Here I’m being silly again, and you’re hurting and sick over this. I’m so sorry, Joanne.”

  “It’s okay, Nita. I should have been up front from the beginning.”

  She held up her hand. “No apologies necessary. This is traumatic for you.”

  “I sense she knows something, Nita. She opened a wound that was nearly healed, and now I’m bleeding again.” Joanne glanced down at the bandage still covering her wound. The pain had gone—Only the sensitivity remained.

  Nita’s gaze followed hers. “What happened to your hand?”

  “I cut myself.”

  Nita seemed to accept her response without explanation, and sent her a look of sympathy. “What do you do now?” She shook her head as she lifted the latte to her lips.

  “I’ve called the police.”

  “You did?”

  She told Nita the details of her first visit. “When she called Sunday, Benjamin phoned a detective friend for me. I went in Monday morning.”

  “That’s why you were late for work,” Nita said.

  Joanne nodded, wishing she hadn’t kept her troubles so quiet. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  Nita’s eyebrows rose.

  “I know. It was silly.”

  Nita shifted her hand to Joanne’s arm, and gave it a pat. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone without support or prayer.”

  “I’ve had Benjamin’s support.” She realized how cutting the comment was. “But you’re a good friend, too, and I should have told you. I really need your prayers.”

  “You have them. You know that.” Nita squeezed her arm, then shifted her hand back to her cup handle. “So what is the detective doing?”

  “He asked a million questions about everyone I know or ever knew. Then he wanted every detail about the caller. The sound of her voice, background sounds, the time she usually called and the dates. Then he asked me about that night—the night they died.”

  “Really? Why?”

  Joanne gave a perplexed shrug. “I suppose trying to connect it to something tangible besides my crazy suspicions.”

  “They’re not crazy.”

  “Thanks.” She managed a smile. “The phone company put a trace on the phone line. They do it all electronically now. Even blocked calls can be traced to the telephone used for the call. It’s not like the old movies and they don’t really listen anymore. I have to keep a log of the call, and then the phone company checks it out.” Joanne rubbed her neck, feeling the tension building. “It’s all too confusing and horrible.”

  “I know, but I feel better hearing you’ve taken this to the police. Pray she calls again soon.”

  Joanne nodded, then took the final sip of her latte. “I never thought I’d pray anything so horrible, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  Nita frowned. “You said for one. Is there a for two?”

  “What?”

  “I asked what your friend was worried about, and you said, for one, calls. What’s the other problem?”

  “E-mails.”

  “At work?”

  Joanne nodded.

  Nita slid her cup to the side and leaned closer. “Do you think the e-mails are connected to the phone calls?”

  “I don’t know.” She tried to remember the content of the messages as clearly as she could. “They don’t make sense, but it’s obvious someone is trying to frighten me.”

  Nita shook her head.

  “And it’s working,” Joanne said.

  Chapter Seven

  Joanne balanced the packages from Christmas shopping between her knee and the door frame, then turned the key in the lock. The bags rustled against the molding until the door opened and she carried them inside.

  She’d purchased most of the gifts to be mailed, and felt good about her accomplishment. Though she’d been tense the past few weeks, today she’d almost been touched by Christmas spirit with the help of Nita and the shopping spree. For the past three years she had forced herself to pull out some ornaments, then wept and put them back. Christmas had seemed lost to her. But this year she’d already made progress, with Benjamin’s encouragement. Perhaps this year she’d have the strength to use the decorations.

  As she carried the gift bags into her room, thoughts of Benjamin filled her mind. He’d been tied up with a court case, and though he’d called, she didn’t think he’d have time for her today. But the e-mail had set her on edge and she missed him more than she could imagine. Two weeks ago, he’d been only a memory. Now he’d become the backbone of her existence.

  Joanne recognized that Benjamin thought of her as Greg’s wife—just a friend—and she’d always felt the same about him, until lately. Now her heart gave a skip when she saw his generous mouth curve into a playful smile. The sensation nudged her with an uncomfortable guilt, as if she were cheating on Greg, but she knew her husband was gone. She’d meet Greg again in heaven, but while here on earth, life seemed lonely without a partner.

  Joanne knew that she should move on. She was free to experience romance and to find love again. The idea washed over her in waves of mixed emotion. Loss and newness warped into one emotional experience.

  After searching her closet, Joanne selected something to wear, then slipped off her office clothes. She stepped into a pair of pants, and then, feeling a chill, she gave her arms a brisk rub before pulling a bulky sweater over her head. She disposed of her work outfit, then headed for the kitchen.

  As she came through the doorway she eyed the telephone and her stomach knotted. The answering machine gave off a steady blink: she had a message.

  Apprehension crept over her. She drew up her shoulders and hit the play button. “You have three messages. Message one, Monday, November twenty-eighth. Five-thirty.”

  Joanne held her breath.

  “Hi, Joanne.”

  She smiled hearing Benjamin’s voice.

  “I guess you’re not in. Give me a call when you get home.”

  Sweet Benjamin. Despite his busy day, he’d called. Always thinking of her….

  “Message two,” the mechanical voice said, “Monday, November twenty-eighth. Five-forty-nine.”

  Joanne tilted her ear closer to the speaker. She heard the hiss of an open line, then a hang-up. Her stomach twisted. It was the woman again, she felt certain. She slammed her hand against the telephone. If she’d been home, the caller might have spoken.

  The machine indicated that the third message had occurred at six-fourteen. She listened with her heart in her throat. Another hang-up.

  Hands trembling, she crossed the room and sank into a chair. She covered her face with her hands, knowing she should be relieved that the woman had called again, but instead, she felt weak and tired. Frustration overwhelmed her. Her chest ached from her pounding heart, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

  She hoisted herself from the chair and walked back to the telephone to phone Benjamin. When she heard his voice, she burst out with the news.

  “She called again. Twice, I think, but I wasn’t here,” Joanne said. “It was on my answering machine.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Nothing. I can’t stand this anymore.” Her fingers ached from her death grip on the phone.

  “She spoke to you once, Joanne. She’ll talk again, and this time the phone company will have her. I don’t think she would leave a message.”

  “If I hadn’t gone shopping I would have been home.”

  “Stop. You can’t live your life waiting for the phone to ring. You’re there now, and I’ll be over later.”

  After he disconnected, Joanne felt lonelier than she had in years. She turned from the telephone and pulled the teapot and tea from the cabinet. In a daze, she put water on to boil. As s
he worked, she tried to put herself in the stranger’s shoes, to understand why she continued to call. Did she really have anything to say? Joanne banged into a mental wall every way she turned.

  When the tea was ready, she carried it into the living room, then paced in front of the picture window, not knowing what to do with herself. She finally settled into a chair and waited for Benjamin.

  Eventually, headlights reflected off the snow and turned into the driveway. Joanne’s heart thumped as she rose and headed for the door. She’d begun to equate comfort and security with Benjamin.

  Joanne watched him slip from the car and walk up the sidewalk, and felt a smile relax her face. When he reached the porch, she pushed back the storm door.

  “Hi,” he said, bringing in the crisp smell of new snow. Flakes drifted to the floor from his jacket as he pulled it from his shoulders.

  “Hi.” Joanne gazed at him, fighting the urge to kiss him hello. The vision heated her cheeks and she turned away, fearing he’d notice.

  He slipped off his coat, which she hung in the closet. She held back the emotion that rattled her from the phone calls and from the unexpected sensation when she’d seen him.

  “I’ve just made some tea.” She motioned him toward the living room. “Have a seat. I’ll bring it in.”

  But he didn’t. Instead, he grasped her arms and closed the distance between them. “Are you okay? You sounded upset on the phone.”

  “I’m fine now.” Now that you’re here, she added to herself.

  Instead of releasing her, he drew her closer, and she felt his lips press against her hair. Her heart hammered at the nearness. He’d held her before to soothe her tears. Today was different. When he stepped back, his expression looked as surprised as she felt.

  Neither spoke a word, and she turned away. What was happening? “Go ahead.” She motioned toward the living room. “I’ll bring it in.”

  This time he listened and vanished through the archway, while Joanne stood a moment in the foyer to catch her breath.

  “Mind if I put on a CD?” Benjamin called from the living room.

  “Go ahead,” she said, glad to have something break the silence. She returned to the kitchen and finished pouring the tea, then grasped both cups and followed the music back into the room.