Finding Christmas

by Gail Gaymer Martin

  His hand shook as he clutched the phone. “I’m thankful you called.”

  “I’ll wait here by the phone,” she said. “She’s my daughter and I don’t want anything to happen to her. She’s been through too much for a young woman. I can’t bear it.”

  He only wished Joanne could hear her mother’s concern. “Do you pray, Evelyn?”

  “I’ve never been one for religion,” she said, “but I found myself asking God’s help tonight.”

  “That’s what you can do for her. God says if we believe, we’ll receive what we ask for. He’ll answer our prayers.”

  “That’s in the Bible.”

  “It sure is. In the Book of Matthew.”

  “I’ll be praying, Benjamin.”

  He sent a thank you to the Lord. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.”

  He disconnected and then sat on the edge of the bed trying to gather his thoughts. Where would she go? Out for fast food? He knew better. She had barely eaten enough to keep her alive lately. To see Cortezi? Not in the middle of the night. To look for Mandy? That made sense. Where? He knew the answer, and he felt sick.

  She’d done it once before—gone snooping around Angelo’s house. Would she go there again? He’d told her never to go back, but he’d already learned that Joanne was a stubborn woman. When she had her mind set on something, he could insist, plead or demand, and it would be fruitless.

  If he left the house to find her, he wouldn’t be home if she called him. He could call the police—but was she really in danger? He sat staring at the telephone, torn by what to do.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Terrified, Joanne slammed her door, flinching as the man’s body hit the side of the car. It had to be Angelo. Her hand quaked as she slid her key into the ignition. While he yanked on the door handle, she shifted into gear and tore away.

  In her rearview mirror, she saw him reel from her acceleration, then rant, shaking his fist above his head. Then, in a heartbeat, the mirror showed another image. He’d regained control and now darted toward his driveway. Before she had even reached the end of his street, she saw his headlights glaring in the distance and gaining on her.

  Fear gripped her as Angelo’s SUV closed the distance between them. Gunning the motor she spun onto the highway, her car wheel slamming into a snowy rut. She struggled to hold the steering wheel steady and pull her vehicle back onto the highway.

  Her mind raced. She needed to lose him or get help. She’d stored her cell phone in the glove compartment, but she had no time to find it and punch in the numbers. She’d have to slow down, and she couldn’t take the chance. If she didn’t decelerate, she would roll the car on the black ice.

  Her prayer rose that God be her pilot. Terror pounded through her veins and her head swam with horrible imaginings. As if her heavenly petition had been answered, Joanne spotted a police car heading toward her from the opposite direction. She flashed her headlights, hoping he’d realize something was wrong.

  Her hand trembled as she turned the knob. Blink. Blink. Blink. The police car drew closer and her hopes rose, then he veered to the right and up the ramp. Had he seen her and would he come back, or hadn’t he noticed her at all?

  The light-colored SUV stayed on her tail. The traffic was the only thing saving her from his getting into a dangerous position beside her. She feared he would run her off the road and into the freeway barricade.

  As Joanne approached a ramp, an idea struck her: she needed to find a police station. Finally she recalled that if she took the next exit she could make her way to Vernor Avenue and the Detroit Third precinct. There she would find help.

  Traffic thinned, and Angelo’s vehicle moved into the left lane. She saw him gaining speed, and her only hope was to take the next ramp, or he’d force her off the road. She waited until the last minute, hoping to dodge him, and then turned her wheel and took the ramp. A car followed her, but it was dark colored, and she knew Angelo had missed the exit or had fallen behind.

  She got her bearings and made a right turn. For once she hoped the police would pull her over for speeding, but none stopped her. She tried to play the lights. Halting for a red would be her undoing.

  Behind her, she spotted a vehicle picking up speed. Tension assailed her as she struggled to keep her wits. She spotted Vernor Avenue and made a quick right. Ahead of her sat the Third precinct building. She wheeled into the parking lot, and the light colored SUV slowed, then shot past.

  An officer was coming out of the door and heading to a squad car. She put her hand on the door handle, ready to call to him, then changed her mind. It would only delay her. Her body felt like gelatin as she leaned over and hit the glove compartment button. She pulled out her cell phone and punched the numbers.

  Benjamin. He’d know what to do.

  When the telephone rang, Benjamin answered, and relief flooded him when he heard Joanne’s voice.

  “You did what?” he said, astounded that she would take such a chance.

  “I couldn’t sleep, and I—”

  “You’ll be sleeping permanently, Joanne, if you keep doing things like this.” He knew how much she wanted to find Mandy, but her way just wasn’t wise. “Let the police do their work. Now tell me about the car, and I’ll notify the Grosse Pointe police.”

  “I couldn’t see the license plate, but it was pale-colored—an SUV—and I know it was him. When I pulled into the police station, he slowed, then zoomed past. So, he’s somewhere in this area.”

  “I wish you’d seen his license plate.”

  “He was behind me. All I could see was the glare of his headlights.”

  Benjamin understood, but having the numbers would have made the job easier. “Which police station?”

  “Third on Vernor.”

  “Listen to me. Don’t move from where you are. If you want, go inside the station, but otherwise stay there. You’re safe and I’ll come to get you.”

  For once she didn’t argue, and when he hung up, he put in an immediate call to the Grosse Pointe police. Cortezi wasn’t there, but he knew the department had a bulletin out to look for Angelo’s vehicle. “She said it was a pale-colored SUV,” he reported, “but she didn’t catch the license plate.”

  “Pale-colored?” the detective asked. “There’s the problem. Angelo owns a black sedan. He must be driving a borrowed car or a rental. We’ll get on it.”

  Relief surged through him as he hung up and called Evelyn. Her voice quivered when she answered the telephone, but he heard relief when he told her Joanne had called.

  “Will she be safe?” she asked.

  “I’m going there now. I’ll bring her home, but if anyone calls or comes to your door, don’t answer—and call the police immediately. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” she said, strained amusement in her voice. “I’m not as stubborn as my daughter.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, grinning to himself.

  He disconnected, then hurried to his car. He’d dressed over an hour ago and had waited by the phone, hoping Joanne would call him or her mother, saying she was safe.

  Some people talked disparagingly about the “weaker sex,” but Joanne was a gender of her own. She had the stubbornness of a bull and the gentleness of a lamb. The woman surprised him at each turn. He’d read about parents giving their lives for their child, and Benjamin could see this in Joanne. She held no fear.

  He backed out of his driveway and headed down Lake Shore Drive toward Detroit. Each time he drove along the lake he’d remember Joanne’s frantic call three years earlier. He wanted to rid himself of the memory.

  Tonight Christmas wreaths and garlands decorated the streetlights and he had to remind himself that everywhere people were excited about the coming celebration of the birth of the Savior. All he’d had time to think about was saving Joanne. He had growing hopes that tonight God in His mercy would bring an end to this horrible situation.

  To distract himself, Benjamin snapped on the ra
dio. He pushed station buttons until he heard Christmas music ringing through the speakers. “God rest ye merry gentlemen,” he sang along. Let nothing you dismay. The words hit home.

  He’d been dismayed. He’d found it easy to forget Jesus’ birth with so much going on. The truth saddened him. How many people around the world were faced with difficult times so the impact of God’s love had been watered down to nothing. Christmas should be a time of jubilation and thanksgiving.

  When all Joanne’s trials ended, he prayed they would have time to rejoice. Benjamin knew he had much to be thankful for. Every day, he praised God for bringing him home to Detroit, for bringing Joanne back into his life, for giving him so much more than he ever could have dreamed.

  He turned onto Michigan Avenue, and then left onto Vernor Avenue. A few minutes later, he spotted the Third precinct and Joanne’s car.

  Joanne sent him a grateful look when she saw him. He parked his car nearby and slipped into the passenger seat of hers. She fell into his arms. Her tears soaked into his jacket as he held her close to soothe her. His heart swelled.

  “Thank you,” she whispered once she’d calmed. “This was horrible.”

  “I don’t doubt it, but what I want to know is, what were you thinking of?”

  “My daughter.”

  Her answer was short and honest. She’d given no thought to herself. He wanted to ask her to promise never to do something this foolish again, but he would cause her to lie. Joanne would do what she needed to, to locate her daughter.

  “I called the police about the vehicle following you. Cortezi wasn’t there, but I know they’re looking for him.”

  “I should have listened,” she said, resting her head against his chest. “He is a madman. I have no doubt he could kill again.” She shifted her head upward. “I heard from Cortezi earlier tonight. The dead woman was Donna.”

  “Why didn’t you let me know?”

  “You didn’t want to be bothered. You said you had work to do.”

  He knew she’d been disappointed. “My mind has been filled with you and your problems, Joanne. I’ve neglected my own work, even though I’ve tried to concentrate. You’re taking up every bit of my attention.”

  “I’m sorry, Benjamin. I’ve asked too much of you.”

  “Not by your asking. It’s me. You’re in my every thought.”

  She gave him a curious look, and he realized this wasn’t the time or place to discuss the future. “We need to get you home.”

  “I hope my mother’s still sleeping. She’d be—”

  “She’s been going crazy, worried about you. She called me in the middle of the night. That’s why I was up and dressed when you called.”

  “She called you?”

  “She woke and noticed you were gone. I phoned her after I heard from you. She was very thankful.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry I scared both of you.”

  He gave her a final hug before opening the car door. “I’ll follow you home so I know you’re safe.”

  “Stay behind me.”

  “I will,” he said, stepping out into the cold night air. He closed the door and patted the window reassuringly.

  Her look melted his heart.

  Seeing her house had never felt so good. As she pulled into the driveway, Joanne realized her mother had stayed up. Lights glowed in the living room and kitchen. Benjamin’s car rolled in behind hers.

  After parking she slid from the car and locked the door, then turned to find him at her side. Her mother opened the door before they hit the porch.

  “I’ve been so worried,” she said as she pushed back the storm door, then embraced Joanne.

  Touched by her mother’s concern, Joanne hugged her back. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

  “You were right,” Evelyn said, her eyes on Benjamin. “I felt better talking to God. I knew Someone was on our side.”

  “I told you,” he said, and gave her quick hug.

  A grin spread across her face. “I made a pot of coffee for you—decaf—if you want some. I’m exhausted, but I want to know what happened.”

  Joanne gave her a brief explanation and watched her mother’s eyes weigh with sleep.

  Evelyn patted Joanne’s arm. “I’m grateful, but now that you’re home safe, I’m going back to bed.”

  “Get a good rest,” Benjamin said. “I’m going to sleep on the sofa. You two ladies aren’t going to be here alone tonight.”

  Her mother looked relieved and headed down the hallway, while Joanne protested.

  “I won’t have you sleeping on the sofa, Benjamin,” Joanne said. “You can go home. We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will, but I’m not taking any chances.”

  She knew he could be persistent, so she saw no sense in fighting him. “You can sleep in Mandy’s bed.” Hearing her words surprised Joanne. No one had touched the room since the night of the accident. She’d gone in occasionally to dust her daughter’s belongings but that was all.

  “Let’s have some of that coffee,” Benjamin said, seemingly ignoring her offer.

  Too wound up to sleep, Joanne led the way into the kitchen. She poured the coffee her mother had made, then checked the cookie jar and found some homemade chocolate-chip ones and set a few on a plate. Then she and Benjamin carried the snack into the living room.

  Benjamin sat first and patted the sofa cushion beside him. A look of tenderness glistened in his eyes.

  She walked to the tree and turned on the Christmas lights, then dimmed the lamp and joined him, happy to feel close to someone. Earlier she’d felt so alone, even though she had known God had her in His keeping.

  She lifted the mug and took a warming sip. Her hands embraced the ceramic, the heat helping to alleviate the chill she’d felt since earlier that evening when she’d struggled to fall asleep.

  “What can I say?” She gave Benjamin a ponderous look, wondering how angry he was.

  “You can say you’ll be more careful. You have no idea if he can trace your license plate here. The man’s a criminal and apparently a murderer. He’s killed twice now.”

  “And a kidnapper.” Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that her daughter had been raised in Carl Angelo’s home.

  “I’m sure his picture is splashed all over the television,” Benjamin said. “You know what that means.”

  She did, and it frightened her. “He’ll be desperate. You know that. He won’t want to drag a child all over the country trying to hide out from the police.” Her pulse raced. “If someone doesn’t find her soon, it’ll be too late.”

  “God is with her. That’s all we can count on, Joanne.”

  “I’ve prayed.” She paused. “Every waking moment.” She curled her legs beneath her and felt Benjamin’s arm slide behind her back. He drew her closer, and she rested her head against his shoulder. “Why do you think Donna Angelo contacted me now? The kidnapping happened three years ago.”

  “He married her after he’d taken Mandy, and maybe she’d just begun to put two and two together.”

  “You think something might have happened to make her question whether Mandy was his daughter?”

  “Something like that,” he said. “Perhaps his first wife got in touch and said something about their child. She’d know then that Connie wasn’t his.”

  Questions marched back into her thoughts—all the whys and hows that had plagued her. “Why do you think Carl Angelo kidnapped Mandy? Because Greg represented his wife?”

  Benjamin rested his head against hers. “Greg handled not only the divorce but the restraining order. Then the permanent order became part of the divorce settlement. His abuse must have been terrible for her to give up child support and alimony to get away from him.”

  “Donna was doing the same thing. She was trying to get away.”

  Benjamin’s face fell. “I’ve been wondering if Donna really planned to tell you where to find Mandy. She might have taken the money and her.”

  “I
don’t know. I had to trust her. But she did refuse to make a trade. She wanted the money and said she’d give me information.” The possibility struck her. “This has been so difficult, so awful, yet it would be wonderful if—” Tripped by her emotions, she couldn’t finish.

  “It’s been a horrendous journey, Joanne, and yet one that’s changed my life.” He tilted his head to look into her eyes. “And yours, I hope.”

  Seeing his face, her pulse kicked into high gear. “I’m awed at how important you’ve become to me. I lived in a box before you arrived, Benjamin. I didn’t realize it. I worked and went to church, but I’d cut myself off from so many people. Inside, I felt very lonely and incomplete.”

  “And now?”

  She avoided his question. “How about you?”

  “Men aren’t good with words.”

  “I know.” She’d wanted to hear him tell her how he felt about her so often, but once again, she feared she longed for more than he had to offer.

  “You’re an exceptional woman. I’ve always admired you.”

  Admiration. That’s not what she wanted. “Thanks,” she said, hoping her disappointment wasn’t apparent. “I’ve always admired you, too.” She rested her head on his chest again.

  “But my feelings have changed.”

  “Changed good or changed bad?”

  “Neither. My feelings have grown. You’ve become my focus—what’s important in my day and my night.”

  She lifted her head, her heart pounding. “You’re my everything, Benjamin. We’ve always been dear friends, but I’ve been amazed at your sacrifice for me. You’ve stood by me, even though I’m sure you thought I’d gone a little loopy, and all the while you’ve become my joy. Our friendship has changed and blossomed into a flower.”

  He brushed her cheek with his free hand, then ran his fingers along her hair, his eyes searching hers. “You’re the flower. You’re roses and orchids and violets gathered into one beautiful bouquet.” His fingers slid to her chin and tilted it upward as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  The kiss warmed her mouth, and she breathed in his scent. His lips moved beneath hers, deepening and caressing until her heart felt as if it would burst.