KIDNAPPED IN AMISH COUNTRY

After catching a glimpse of something she wasn’t supposed to see days before Christmas, Irene Martello is run off the road and barely survives. More shocking is the backseat whimper of an Amish toddler stowaway and the familiar sight of their rescuer—the man who’d let her down years earlier. Police chief Paul Kennedy fears Irene stumbled onto a kidnapping ring with two dangerous agendas: retrieving the girl and silencing the witness for good. Only Paul can keep them safe for the holidays. Guarding Irene means risking his heart—and his secret—but to save the child and the woman he never stopped loving, it’s a risk he has to take.

The sound terrified her.

The child’s scream.

She shot up the stairs, wishing Paul were here.

The child shrieked again and a voice growled, “Shut up or I’ll do it for you.”

Irene crept down the hall and saw him. The man she’d have nightmares about. As he lunged at her, she grabbed a vase and slammed it into his head. He staggered, giving her the moment she needed to grab the child.

“Irene!”

Paul! He’d come to save her!

As the man pulled a gun, Irene rushed into the bedroom and locked the door. From out in the hall she heard gunfire, a crash. Then quiet.

Her fear subsided when Paul busted open the door. From the look on his face, she knew the gunman had gotten away.

“I’m bringing the child home with me.”

She waited for the argument. Instead, he nodded. “We’ll keep a detail at your house.”

Then his face went ashen. “Irene, this isn’t over. They’re after the child, and because you’re the only witness, you.” She knew what he didn’t say. They’d keep killing till they got her.

Dear Reader,

When I first wrote about LaMar Pond, I had no idea where Paul’s story would lead him. I knew I wanted to give him a happy-ever-after, but had no plans beyond that. As the characters of LaMar Pond have evolved, the story of Irene and Paul began to play out in my imagination.

Paul is a man who had once hit bottom and who has fought to conquer his problems. Along the way, he developed a strong faith. He is a man who has much to offer a woman. Even if he doesn’t know it.

Irene has dealt with the horror of losing the husband she loved and raising their children by herself. Such a trial made her turn her back on God for a while, but He brought her back, loving her and showering His mercy upon her.

Irene and Paul are brought together by their shared quest to assist a child in need. As I wrote this story, I was reminded of how Jesus asks us to have the faith of a child.

I hope you enjoyed Paul and Irene’s story. I hope to continue writing about the people in LaMar Pond. I love to hear from readers. You can email me at WriterDanaLynn@gmail.com or visit me online at www.danarlynn.com. I am also on Facebook and Twitter (@DanaRLynn).

Blessings,

Dana R. Lynn

DANA R. LYNN grew up in Illinois. She met a man at a wedding who she told her parents was her future husband. Nineteen months later, they were married. Today they live in rural Pennsylvania with their three children, two dogs, one cat, one rabbit, one horse and six chickens. In addition to writing, she works as an educational interpreter for the deaf and is active in several ministries in her church.

Amish Christmas Abduction

Dana R. Lynn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

—Matthew 5:4

Rachael, Bradley and Gregory. There is not a day that I don’t thank God for the blessing of being your mom. Love you forever.

Brad...thanks for loving me and encouraging me to live my dream. Love you!

Acknowledgments

To my family and friends, who supported me and held me up in prayer...I appreciate you so much. Thank you with all my heart.

To my editor, Elizabeth Mazer...thank you for all your guidance. It’s a joy to work with you.

To my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray...thanks for believing in me. I am grateful for all your efforts on my behalf.

To my Lord and Savior...thank You for Your presence in my life. I am nothing without You.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

ONE

“Didn’t you see the sign? This is private property.”

Irene Martello stepped back from the door, her raised hand falling to her side... The man who answered the door glared at her. It was the most vicious stare she’d ever encountered. Anger at being treated so rudely warred with apprehension. She was here alone...unprotected. Would this man turn violent?

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she managed. “I was trying to find the Zilcher residence.”

She shivered as he glowered, his heavy brows lowering over black eyes. It was difficult to see his mouth through the thick black beard, but she had the distinct impression he was scowling.

“You have the wrong house. They live there.” He jerked his head sharply toward the house next door.

“Sorry...” She opened her mouth to apologize for any inconvenience, but stopped when there was a movement behind Black Beard. A young woman, somewhere in her late teens or early twenties, stood in an open doorway deeper inside the house. As the man whirled around and speared her with a glance, she fled back out of sight. Was that a child crying? Irene leaned forward instinctively, straining to hear. He returned that glare to Irene, and she straightened again. It was none of her business if he had children, she chastised herself. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she felt true fear at the way his eyes blazed at her.

Turning on her heel, she moved briskly back down the steps. Only the fact that the ground was covered with snow kept her from running as she hightailed it back to her SUV. After getting in, she started the engine with a shaking hand, then backed along the driveway and onto the dirt road. She drove past the mailboxes on the side of the road and realized that what she’d thought was a 1 had actually been a 7. A natural mistake to make.

In no time, she was in the driveway of the correct house. She fumbled around for her purse and laptop bag, completely aware that the man had moved outside and was watching her from his porch.

After pushing open the door of her SUV, Irene stepped from the vehicle, glad she’d opted for warmth rather than fashion as her heavy boots crunched the snow beneath them. Against her better judgment, she peeked at the man from house number seven. She instantly regretted it. His face had darkened even more. Turning quickly, her face heated as she felt his glare continuing to bore into her back. She took a deep breath, refusing to admit to herself how unsettling her encounter with the man had been.

Trying to appear calm, she pulled her belongings from the dark red SUV and shut the door with her hip. Slammed it, actually. Even though she refused to look, she was aware that he was still there. Now she was getting mad. Why was he watching her like that? What did he expect? That she’d drive back over to chat? Not likely.

Enough! She had a job to do. A job she loved, even though she’d only been working with the Early Intervention program for two months. Today she was meeting a new family. She shifted the red bag carrying both the laptop and her file of papers for the family to sign.

Determined, she made her way up the narrow walkway to the small house, careful to avoid looking at the man on the porch. It didn’t help matters any that the family had requested a late meeting, due to the father’s work schedule. It was already going on four o’clock. By the time the meeting ended, it would be almost five. LaMar Pond started getting dark around that time in December. At least it was Friday. After this appointment, she could pick up her own kids and enjoy a quiet evening at home.

Come on, Irene. One more home visit, then you’re all done.

Once, only once, did she glance to the right. Her eyes switched targets as she became aware of movement from the side window. The same young woman she’d seen in the house was peering out of the blinds. She had the most hopeless face Irene had ever seen.

Something wasn’t right.

The door in front of Irene opened. Taking her eyes off the creepy house, she forced herself to smile at the young couple waiting anxiously. For now, she needed to focus on work. But as soon as she was done with the meeting, she had every intention of calling her brother, Lieutenant Jace Tucker, and filling him in on the house and the woman. If her instincts were correct—and they usually were—that was a woman who needed help.

It might be nothing. But Irene knew she wouldn’t rest easy until she had called. Maybe Jace wouldn’t be able to do anything, but there was always the possibility that the police would keep a closer eye on the area.

Irene was very familiar with the police. Not only was her older brother a lieutenant, but she’d been married to a cop for six years, six wonderful years, before he’d been killed in the line of duty a little over three years ago.

The familiar ache in her chest when she thought of Tony was almost comforting.

Once inside the warm house, she was escorted into the dining room. She focused on the young family. The little boy she was there to evaluate was adorable, his little head bald except for a light fuzz. He was almost two years old, and had just been diagnosed with a vision impairment. Irene’s job as the service coordinator was to decide if the child qualified for Early Intervention services. The meeting was merely a formality. Having a diagnosis almost always guaranteed that he would receive services.

In less than an hour, the meeting was completed and Irene was pushing her feet back into her winter boots.

“I will call you when I have the IFSP meeting scheduled,” she told the mother, referring to the Individualized Family Service Plan meeting with the family and the therapists who would become part of the little boy’s team.

After bidding the Zilchers goodbye, she pulled the door open and stepped outside. It had started to snow while she was inside. She tried to keep her focus on her car, but it was no use. The other house drew her gaze like a magnet.

The man was probably still home. There were three vehicles in the driveway—a truck, a Jeep and a small sedan. But no one was standing outside. The man must have gone inside.

Relief coursed through her. And quite a bit of embarrassment. Imagine getting so upset because someone was watching her! What a goose she was! It wasn’t like he had threatened her or anything like that.

Getting to her car, she frowned. Her door wasn’t locked. She must have been so rattled by that man that she’d forgotten to lock it. She shrugged. It wasn’t out of the norm to leave doors unlocked in LaMar Pond, especially out on the back roads. She had friends who didn’t even lock their house doors at night.

She quickly climbed into the car and shut the door, making sure to lock it the moment she was inside. After starting the car, she turned up the heat to help rid herself of some of the chill, not all of which was from the weather. Lifting her head, she froze.

There, in the Zilcher family’s front room window, a large Christmas tree sparkled and shimmered. The tree hadn’t been lit when she’d arrived or she would have noticed it, no matter how freaked-out she had been. It was probably on an automatic timer. It was beautiful, looking at it through the snow. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She wasn’t looking forward to Christmas, just a few weeks away. It would be the third since Tony’s death. Her boys would go through another holiday without their father. A father little Matthew hardly remembered. He’d only been two. Now he was five. Seven-year-old AJ had more memories, but had forgotten so many details. It broke her heart.

A soft ping signaled an incoming text. Irene sighed. And this would be her mom, asking her to attend late-night services with her and the family on Christmas Eve. Just like Irene used to do every year before God abandoned her and her babies. She glanced at her phone. Oh, yeah. Just as she thought. She would hear about it later, but she was going to just ignore the text. For now.

A door slammed. Startled, her head jerked up in the direction of the sound. It had come from the man’s house.

He was back, his eyes burning with anger. She could almost feel the menace emanating from him. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at her. He appeared to be searching for something, though, as his dark gaze swept over his yard.

Dropping her phone, Irene put her car into Reverse and started to back out of the driveway. Thankfully, there was no traffic on the road, so she could pull onto the street, away from the man, without waiting. But moments later, she heard a shout.

He was running her way!

Panicked now, she jerked the gearshift into Drive and peeled out. The vehicle fishtailed. Her grip tightened on the wheel. It straightened out and she continued, exhaling in relief.

Steering her SUV up the hill, she drove as fast as she dared before braking for the stop sign at the T on top of the hill. There was only one car coming. She edged her car forward, ready to turn right. She waited for the other driver to pass, drumming her fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

Come on. Come on.

Her back windshield shattered.

Irene screamed. What had just happened? A look in the rearview mirror confirmed her nightmare. The pickup truck she’d seen in the neighbor’s drive was right on her bumper, and the man with the black beard was leaning out the window, some sort of rifle in his hand. She wasn’t going to give him the chance to take a second shot. She shoved her foot down on the gas and whipped her car forward. She drove as fast as she could. She couldn’t stop now to call the police. If she didn’t concentrate on getting out of here, he’d get her for sure. But the moment she could pull over...

She heard a roar behind her. A glance in the mirror showed the pickup was coming up on her bumper. It was moving faster than she was, dangerously fast given the slick condition of the roads.

Now would be a good time to pray...if she still did that.

Since she didn’t, she was on her own.

The truck slammed into the back of her SUV. She shrieked and pushed her foot down as hard as she dared on the gas pedal. She had never been so grateful for four-wheel drive. Pushing her foot down a little farther, the SUV lurched as it sped up. The truck stayed on her tail, then slammed into her again. Her SUV went into a full spin and slid off the road into a ditch. She was stuck.

Tears tracked down her cheeks. She was going to die! Her babies would be completely orphaned. Suddenly, her boycott on God no longer mattered. There was no one else who could help her.

Lord, help me. Please. Oh, please. Help.

* * *

Chief Paul Kennedy was driving back from a two-vehicle accident on the outskirts of LaMar Pond when the dispatcher announced shots fired near his location. A young woman had called 911, screaming that her neighbor was shooting at her son’s service coordinator and had taken off in his truck after her.

Paul switched on his siren and pushed the hands-free button to answer the call. “Chief Kennedy here. I’m less than a mile away, heading that direction now. Send backup.”

Disconnecting as soon as she confirmed, he said a prayer for the safety of all involved. It was never pleasant to handle road rage. Adding a gun and winter weather into the mix could prove to be a disaster in the making.

He came around the curve, his headlights cutting through the dark. The snowflakes caught in the beams made him think of a snow globe. Then they hit a sight that chilled his heart.

A red SUV was stranded in a ditch. He knew that SUV. It belonged to Irene Martello, his best friend’s younger sister. The girl whose trust he’d shattered so many years ago. She was also the widow of one of his officers, shot down on his watch. Three good reasons he’d never, ever want to see her in danger of any kind. But it looked like that was exactly what was happening.

Directly behind her car, he could see a dark pickup truck had pulled off and parked on the side of the road. And not to help. The driver, a large man with a fierce scowl on his bearded face, had opened his door. He had started to step out of the vehicle, a rifle in his bare hands. This man meant to harm Irene.

The moment Paul appeared, though, he halted. The bright lights and the loud wail of the siren made the bearded man jerk back into his truck before speeding off in the opposite direction. Paul wanted to chase him, needed to stop the maniac. But he needed to check on Irene more. Quickly, he called in a description of the truck and the driver, and called for an ambulance.

Parking his cruiser on the side of the road, he kept his lights on to warn any oncoming traffic to slow down. Then he strode to the driver’s-side door. She was watching him, her face bloodless. From fear, or was she in shock? Either way, he sent up a silent prayer of thanks at the sight of her alive and alert. He rapped on the window. It wasn’t necessary. She was already rolling it down.

“Irene? Are you okay?”

“Paul!” She choked out his name. For the first time in years, her gaze wasn’t cool when she met his eyes. Fear and gratitude took precedence over wounded pride. “I thought he was going to kill me!” Her voice wobbled slightly, but she wasn’t crying. Anymore. The streaks left by earlier tears were evident.

He needed to calm her down, see if she was injured. “Easy, Irene. He’s gone. Are you hurt anywhere? Anything broken?” He scanned her carefully.

She shook her head, then winced. His gaze narrowed in on her forehead. She wasn’t bleeding. There was a dark shadow on her temple that concerned him. It could have been nothing, or a bruise forming. Hard to tell without proper lighting.

“Did you hit your head? It looks bruised. Any dizziness, or blurry vision?”

“I did bang it against the steering wheel when I went into the ditch. But I don’t think I’m really hurt.”

Hmm. He’d have her checked out when the ambulance arrived, just the same.

“What happened?” He kept his voice calm, even though he was feeling anything but.

“You know I started working at the Early Intervention program a couple of months ago?” He nodded. He remembered Jace saying something about that. “I was finishing a home visit. It was my last one of the day. When I first arrived, I accidentally went to the wrong house. That man answered the door and he was very angry to see me there. It was downright creepy. Then, when I was leaving his neighbors after my visit, he came out of the house and started looking around. Not at me, but like he was searching for something. I started driving and he started running after me. I didn’t wait, just took off. Then next thing I knew, I was waiting at the stop sign, and he came up behind me and boom—” she slapped a hand on her steering wheel “—he’d shot out my back window and was coming after me. He rammed his truck into me, twice. The road was icy, and I lost control. I really think he would have killed me if you hadn’t arrived. How did you know I was in danger?”

He had to draw in three deep breaths before he could speak around the red haze threatening to overcome him. His normally calm demeanor was failing him as he tried to keep from thinking of what would have happened if he had been farther away. Thank You, Lord, for placing me here in time to help. Paul was a firm believer that the Lord was in charge.

“The family you’d visited with called nine-one-one. They were able to give the operator the address of the neighbor who attacked you. I was on my way there when I came across your vehicle. I need to check in and make sure an officer is on the scene. Then we can go from there.”

She nodded, relaxing briefly in her seat. Only for a moment, though. Her eyes widened slightly and she sat ramrod straight in her seat, grimacing. Maybe she was more bruised than she’d let on. “There was a woman inside the house when I arrived. Young, nineteen, maybe twenty or twenty-one. I don’t know what was going on in there, but she looked scared, Paul. Really scared.”

“I’ll get it checked out, Irene. I promise.” Paul moved to the front of the car and thumbed the radio on his shoulder to get an update. When he was told that several officers were en route to the scene, he gave the order that they inform him immediately of any findings. He took one step back toward Irene, then stopped. Jace’s shift would be ending soon. He’d want to know what had happened. Paul was his chief, but he was also his best friend. Jace should hear about it from him. Before he could change his mind, he reached back, pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the familiar number.

“’Lo, Chief.”

Paul winced, even though he’d expected him to answer. He loved Jace like a brother, and this would not be an easy conversation. Jace was used to dealing with violence, but telling him that the shooting target had been his sister this time was not going to go over well.

“Lieutenant Tucker.” Paul hesitated. He always tried to keep things professional when they were at the station. They weren’t at the station, however, and this was an unusual situation.

“Jace...” He addressed the man as a friend. “She’s okay, but the woman shot at was Irene.”

Silence. Then Jace’s deep voice exploded over the phone.

“What? What happened? You’re positive she’s okay? Where are you?”

Paul gave him his location. “He rear-ended her, and her car went into a ditch. Her forehead looks bruised, but she seems lucid and aware. I’m sure she’s fine, but I have an ambulance coming, just to be safe.”

“She’s not going to want to ride in an ambulance.”

Didn’t he know that? If he knew Irene, her first priority would be to get back to her kids as quickly as possible. Plus, she had never liked hospitals.

“Did you get the guy?” Jace’s voice was calmer now.

“No. He ran off when he heard my siren. And I wasn’t about to leave Irene on the side of the road, especially not knowing if she was injured or not.”

“Appreciate that.”

Paul moved back to the side of the car.

A distant siren rent the air. The ambulance. Finally. It was starting to snow harder, which would make the roads more treacherous. Before this night was done, there would be more than one accident for the crew to work on. He would feel much better knowing that Irene was taken care of.

“The ambulance is here now,” Paul said to Jace. “Why don’t you call your mom and let her know what’s going on so she doesn’t worry.”

“How bad does Irene look?”

Bad? Paul nearly smiled. Irene never looked bad. Even bruised and shaken, the red-haired woman was perfect. Of course, he couldn’t say that, although he had a suspicion that Jace was on to him.

“She looks fine. Maybe a little shaken.” Blue eyes glared up at him. “Make that mad, will you?”

An unexpected chuckle floated down the line. “She’s glaring at you, isn’t she?”

“Sure is. And I much prefer that.”

A pause. “Yeah. Me, too.”

An angry Irene was much easier to deal with than a shaken or frightened one. He got that.

“Put her on, will you?”

Paul handed the phone to Irene, then moved away again to give her some privacy. When the ambulance crew came over, she returned the phone to him.

Paul gave them room to do their job. And he did his—setting up flares to warn oncoming traffic to take precautions. By the time he returned to the car, Irene was done being checked out. The paramedics were recommending a trip to the hospital to get her head checked out. As expected, she was set against going.

“You should go to the hospital to get checked out.” Paul bent over for a closer look at the bruise. She rolled her eyes, making him grin.

Irene sighed. “I need to get home to my kids.”

“I had Jace tell your mom where you were. He will make sure that they’re taken care of. Besides, your car will need to be towed. There’s no way you can drive it with the back window blown out. Go to the hospital, and we will bring your car back when it’s drivable. If all it needs is a new windshield, that should be tomorrow morning.”

He received another glare for his trouble. Why did it have to be this hard? He kept hoping that she would forgive him. Then again, what would he do if she did? It wasn’t like he would be any good for a fine woman like Irene. He had way too much baggage. Too many other responsibilities around his neck.

A sudden noise caught his attention.

Irene started to speak. He raised his hand. When she started to look huffy, he said, “Wait. Do you hear something?”

Irene tilted her head, her curls brushing against her cheek as she did. He averted his gaze and was momentarily distracted by the fact that her left hand was ringless. He was sure she had still been wearing her wedding band last time he saw her.

There it was again. A scratching noise. And now a faint mewling sound. Coming from inside her SUV. Paul moved closer and leaned in. Irene backed away from him. Whether that was because he was too close or because it was him, he didn’t know. And now was not the time to ponder it. If something was in Irene’s car with her, he needed to get to the bottom of it, fast.

“Irene, I need you to do exactly what I say.” He kept his voice at a low murmur, the epitome of calm and casual, even though his heart was beating fast.

For once, the stubborn woman nodded without arguing. Guess she was still pretty freaked-out. And who wouldn’t be?

“Go get in my cruiser. I need to see what’s in your car, but I don’t want you here when I do. I need to focus on this completely.”

He didn’t say, And your presence is already too distracting to me. Although he could have. He surely could have.

Paul made eye contact with her, making sure she understood how important this was. She moved towards his car, wobbling slightly on the uneven road. He held on to her elbow until she was steady, then let her go. He watched as the female paramedic led her safely to his cruiser. The paramedics wouldn’t leave the site of an accident until the patient either joined them in the ambulance or signed a refusing-treatment form. So at least, she wouldn’t be alone and unguarded.

The moment he felt she was reasonably safe, Paul shined his flashlight into the back of the car. Nothing was there that he could see. But then he heard the mewling again. This time it was louder.

Moving to the back, he grabbed his gun in one hand and the light in the other. Bracing himself for a fight or to duck, he flashed his light in the back window—and nearly dropped the light in his shock.

Curled up on the floor of Irene’s SUV was a small child. A little girl, although he was unsure of her age. No more than two, he guessed. Judging by her dress and bonnet, she was Amish. She was shivering.

She was also covered in blood.

TWO

Paul pushed his gun back into the holster and yelled for the paramedics.

“I have a child here! Possibly injured.”

He opened the door, stepping back to let it swing upward. The dome light came on, causing the little girl’s eyes to squeeze shut. She whimpered and curled into a tighter ball. The poor little thing was scared to death. Who did she belong to? And how on earth had she gotten into the back of the car?

“It’s okay, little one,” he crooned softly. “I’m going to help you. What’s your name?”

No response. She didn’t even look up.

Paul heard shuffling feet, and the male paramedic stepped up beside him, only his eyes showing the level of his concern. In a job working with those who were injured or dangerous, you learned quickly to remain calm at all costs. That was the only way you survived. Paul knew from experience that bad things could happen when you didn’t. When you lost control, who knew what sort of damage would result? When the man started to climb into the back of the SUV, the child drew back in terror.

“Let me.” Sydney, the female paramedic, moved forward and climbed in, making soothing noises. The girl still pulled back, but her distress seemed to lessen. When Sydney moved toward her, the girl whimpered but was calm enough for the woman to examine her.

He felt someone at his side and knew without turning that Irene was there. Of course. Why would she do what he asked and remain in the car? After all, he was only the chief of police. It wasn’t like he had any authority. Not with her, at any rate. Even if she didn’t like him, she knew him too well to be intimidated by his authority.

“She has Down syndrome.”

“What?” He looked at the little girl again.

“You see her eyes, and her face—I’m a special-education teacher, remember?” Irene’s voice was hushed, soothing. A mother’s voice. “Oh, she’s beautiful. And so scared. Paul, is that blood on her dress?”

Sydney beat him to it. “Yes, but I don’t think it’s hers. I can’t seem to find any visible bleeding injuries on her. But she is dehydrated. When she opened her mouth, her tongue was white and seemed dry. Her eyes seem a little sunken, too. I wouldn’t rule out abuse, either. She needs to go to the hospital.”

“How is it we didn’t hear her before?”

Paul wanted to know that, too.

Sydney tilted her head. “My guess? She was either momentarily stunned or the noise from everything else drowned out the sound.”

Paul had another thought, one that chilled him. “Or she’s been conditioned to make no noise.” Irene and both paramedics looked at him, startled. Maybe even a little confused. But he could see the dawning horror as the meaning of his words sank in.

“You mean she might have been punished for making any noise.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that makes the most sense to me. Sorry to say.”

Sydney moved to pick up the child. The little girl backed away, eyes flaring wild. The male paramedic—Trey?—tried to reach in and get her. Immediately, she went into a frenzy, shrieking and biting.

“Oh, hey, don’t do that!”

Irene moved forward. Paul reached out a hand to caution her to stay back, then felt his own jaw drop when the child launched herself out of the car and into Irene’s arms. Her little arms wound up about the woman’s neck and clung tight. Almost strangling Irene. Her grip looked painful, but Irene didn’t flinch. She held the child securely in her arms, murmuring comforting sounds. The child settled down.

“I guess I’m going to the hospital, after all.” She smiled at the girl. Her eyes were sad. Paul could almost see her thinking. Some mother somewhere was missing her baby. Suddenly, her gaze flashed back up to Paul’s. “Oh, my! I was in my client’s house for almost an hour and I forgot to lock my car. When I got in, I didn’t even look back there. Paul, I think that this baby was from that house, the one where the man who was shooting at me lives. I remember thinking I heard a child cry out when I was there.”

Paul shook his head. Not in disagreement, but in horror. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this sweet little thing was kidnapped and he was shooting to stop you from getting away with her once he realized she was gone. But now I have to see how she got there.”

He stepped back to allow them to move past him to the ambulance.

“I need to call this in, see if we have any reports of missing children from the Amish community.”

“Would Rebecca know?”

Sergeant Miles Olsen had recently gotten engaged, and his future wife’s family was Amish. Rebecca had left the Amish community years ago before she was baptized, allowing her to keep her ties with her family. She was also deaf, and sometimes communication with her family broke down. “I’m not sure. Somehow, I doubt it. And I also need to check with the officers at the scene.”

Paul returned to his car and made a call to the station. As he’d expected, there were no reports of any young Amish children vanishing in the area. Considering the discomfort most Amish felt at the idea of involving the police in their community problems, he wasn’t surprised.

His next call should have been to child services. He hesitated. If there was someone willing to shoot Irene to keep the identity and location of this child secret, he didn’t feel comfortable letting her stay with a regular foster family, who wouldn’t have the means to protect themselves and the other children in their care. No, for the moment, this was still police business.

And that brought another concern to the front of his mind. Irene would be in the hospital, but when she left, would that man still be after her? Things obviously weren’t on the up-and-up, and she had gotten a very clear view of him. Not to mention his house and the vehicles. Would he come after her again?

And what about that sweet little girl? He called the station again. Remembering the girl’s reaction to Trey and himself, he asked for Sergeant Zerosky, fondly known as Sergeant Zee. She picked up, and he sent her over to the hospital to keep watch. He knew she’d protect both Irene and the child.

He pushed the button on his radio again to speak with the officers on the scene.

“There wasn’t much to find where the shooting happened. Some glass. Tire marks,” Sergeant Gavin Jackson reported. “We’re back at the house where the shooter lived. It’s a mess. And Olsen found blood on the floor of the back bedroom. I can’t tell how recent. It’s dry. It’s gonna take us a while longer to process this scene.”

“Okay, this is a possible kidnapping, and maybe even a murder case. I have a child in custody, presumably kept in that house, who was then stashed away in a vehicle. She’s on her way to the hospital right now. While you’re processing the scene, keep your eyes peeled for anything that might help us to identify a small Amish girl. Oh, and Irene says she probably has Down syndrome.”

“Irene? Jace’s sister?”

“Yeah. She was visiting a nearby home. And the child was in her car when she came out—not that Irene noticed at the time, with that maniac chasing after her. We just found the kid about twenty minutes ago. Listen, someone will have to interview the neighbors, too. See what they know about the people at that house.”

“Sure thing, boss. I’ll keep ya posted.”

Paul disconnected. He sat for a minute, musing about the sequences of events. He liked to be able to envision things in his head in order to understand how all the loose pieces fit together.

By the time the tow truck had arrived and pulled the SUV out of the ditch, Jace had appeared. He parked his cruiser behind Paul’s, but kept his lights on. Jace stepped out of his vehicle, then sauntered over to meet Paul, looking like a man without a care in the world. Paul knew better. He could see the tense set of Jace’s shoulders.

“Hey, Paul.” Jace stopped beside him, his eyes grim as he watched his sister’s SUV being towed away, a jagged hole where the back window should have been. “I’m going to go to the hospital to see my sister, then I will drive her back to my mom’s house. She’s got Reenie’s kids.”

Paul smiled. Only Jace could get away with calling Irene “Reenie.”

“She’s fine. She had been starting to refuse treatment—against my better judgment—when we made a little discovery.”

Jace whistled after Paul had finished bringing him up-to-date. “Whoever said life in a small town was dull? And we have no idea where this child came from?”

“None. It’s a mystery. I do want to head to the hospital to get a report on the child’s condition.” And on Irene’s.

Paul drove back toward LaMar Pond. The struggle not to speed was causing his leg to ache with tension. The last thing he needed was to cause another accident on this snowy night, but he was so concerned about Irene that his nerves were taut.

She’d had more than her share of pain in her life. And she might not like it, but if she was in danger, then she’d just have to get used to having him around until she was safe again.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

* * *

What kind of person could take another woman’s baby? Irene’s heart was shattered as she struggled to withhold the tears brought on by the child’s fear and sorrow. It wasn’t a hard jump to imagine a mother somewhere, suffering through a nightmare.

Irene held the little girl close as the doctor examined her. She knew the doctor was annoyed that she was getting in his way. She could hear it in his fussy voice and see it as he peered over the tops of his glasses at her. At them. But it made no difference. She had tried to set the child down. The doctors and nurses had tried to coax her away from Irene.

It was no use. The child fought and kicked out any time someone tried to take her from her chosen protector. Which was how it came to be that Irene was allowed to hold her while the doctor examined her. And it was she who had helped the child out of her bloodstained dress. The process was made difficult because the girl wouldn’t completely release Irene. Eventually, it was managed. Irene was out of breath by that time.

“Well, the good news is that the child doesn’t appear to be hurt. She needs some nutritious food, a bath and, I expect, rest.”

Irene nodded. She had already surmised all that. “But the blood? Is any of it hers?”

Please say no.

“No.”

She sagged slightly with relief, then caught herself and forced her tired back to straighten. She couldn’t give in to the weariness that was dragging at her.

Someone knocked on the door. The child snuggled in closer. Irene leaned down and kissed the child’s head, offering what comfort she could. The door opened and Paul peeked into the room. Some of the familiar annoyance surged up briefly. Then it faded, when she remembered how happy she’d been to see him earlier. There had been a time when she had dreamed of Paul noticing her, back when they were both teenagers. Then he had noticed her, and for a few short months, she’d been happier than she’d ever been. Until he’d broken her trust and wounded her young heart.

She’d been devastated.

She’d managed to get over that. Had told herself she was better off without him. He’d hung out with a rough crowd back then, she mused. Well, except for Jace. She’d been sure Paul would end up arrested or worse. Before that could happen, he’d moved away for a few years. She couldn’t believe it when Jace said he’d become a cop.

Not that she’d cared. She had fallen in love, gotten married and started a family. And then he had come back and become Tony’s boss. She had resented that, at first. After all, Tony had seniority. But Tony took it in stride, and, as time went on, Paul had proved to be a good boss. The reckless kid she’d known had learned to control his wild side and become dedicated to serving others. He’d also apparently developed a strong relationship with God.

She had held on to her doubt, waiting for him to disappoint her again.

But tonight, he had been a real gift. If he hadn’t come around that corner when he had, she would be dead. And who knew what would have happened to the little girl?

“Hey,” he said in a loud whisper. “Jace will be here in a minute. He’s talking with your mom on the phone.” He indicated the little girl with a nod. “How is she?”

“Well, she’s not injured,” the doctor replied. “Is someone from child services coming for her?”

Irene grimaced. She had known that would be the next question, and she didn’t like it. Not that she had anything against child services. They did a job very few people had the stomach for. But she knew that her new friend was not going to go willingly.

“I have not called child services yet,” Paul responded, his voice deep and sure.

What? Shocked, her gaze flew in his direction.

He met her eyes and shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, this is still a police matter. Speaking of which, Doc, I will need her clothes with blood for DNA testing.”

“I’ll ask my nurse. Mary—”

All conversation stopped as the girl’s head whipped around.

“Does she recognize the name, do you think?” Irene looked between the two men. They looked as surprised as she felt. “Maybe it’s her name.”

Leaning back so she could see the small face, Irene tested her theory. “Mary? Hi, Mary.”

The smile she received was like a ray of sunshine. Mary giggled and hunched her shoulders. It may or may not have been affirmative, but it was better than calling her “the child.”

“Okay, then. We will need to keep Mary with us for the time being.”

At the name, Mary smiled at Paul. He blinked. An answering smile softened the edges of his mouth. When was the last time she had seen a tender smile on his face? Paul was always in total control of himself. Her heart fluttered as the memory of that same smile from her high school days floated up to the forefront of her mind.

Not going there. He had broken her trust and her faith before. She may have forgiven him, had even allowed his presence in her life and that of her children’s due to his friendship with Jace and Tony, but no more. And even if she was willing to believe he could be relied on, if there was one thing she didn’t need, it was an emotional entanglement with another cop.

“Where will she stay?”

Paul scratched the top of his head. She knew that mannerism. He was still trying to figure things out. To make all the pieces fit.

“I don’t know.” She smiled at the admission. She had known it. “I was thinking of having a protective detail with Sergeant Zee in charge. Thought Mary would be more at ease with a woman in charge.”

Irene nodded, saddened. A protective detail made sense, but it was a shame that it was needed. This little girl should be with her mother. Hopefully, Mary would be reunited with her family soon.

Jace arrived. Without a word, he walked over and leaned in to kiss Irene’s forehead, careful not to crush Mary, who had fallen asleep. Irene blinked at the sweet gesture. She understood. Years ago, their baby sister Ellie had been killed. This night had reminded them all of their mortality.

The only good thing was that Mary slept through the transfer as Irene passed her off to the nurse who would finish cleaning up the child before turning her over to the police. Irene knew Sergeant Zee. The woman was competent and kind. She had also been a caretaker for her grandmother for a while. She would take good care of Mary.

If Mary let her.

Well, that wasn’t Irene’s problem. She tried to keep her mind from focusing on the little girl.

“Irene.”

Oh, yeah. Paul.

She turned, lifting an eyebrow in question. In place of his normal unruffled demeanor, his brow was furrowed. He was a troubled man.

“I may need you to come in and look at the files to see if you recognize the man who attacked you if no one else can. I will check with his neighbors first. If we can’t identify him, I will need to schedule an appointment with the forensic artist to come up with a good sketch we can pass around.”

“Okay. I can stop by the station tomorrow, if you need me to.”

Jace interrupted, “We won’t be able to have anyone work with the artist until next week. You remember? Tara had surgery and won’t be back until then.”

Paul’s mouth twisted. “I had forgotten. Well, if all works out, he’ll be someone already in our database. Wouldn’t that make life easier?”

Neither responded. Nor did he seem to expect a response.

“Come on, sis. I’ll drive you home.”

Irene started to head out with her brother. Then she stopped and turned to find Paul’s deep brown eyes trained on her. His short dark hair was practically standing on end in places. He’d been running his hands through it. This had been a stressful evening for all of them.

“Paul? Thank you. I mean it. You saved my life tonight.”

He nodded and flashed her a weary smile. “Anytime, Irene. I’m glad I was in the area.”

Feeling they’d said everything that needed to be said, she left the room. She was so worn-out that she closed her eyes the moment she was seated in the passenger seat of Jace’s cruiser.

All she wanted to do was go in and hug her boys. She needed to reassure herself that they were safe and happy. The image of little Mary with her bloodstained clothing was burned into her brain. She would remember that sight for the rest of her life.

At her mother’s house, she marched quickly up the walk and in through the front door. Jace had obviously salted the sidewalk and steps, she was happy to note. Her mom met her in the kitchen. Irene endured her mother’s scrutiny with as much patience as she could gather. Her mother needed the same reassurance she did.

“Mom, where are the boys?”

“They’re watching a Christmas movie.” Melanie Tucker, Jace’s wife, moved into the kitchen, holding her year-old daughter, Ellie, in her arms.

Irene let the tension roll off her shoulders. She was safe. They were safe. She stepped past her sister-in-law, running a finger down her niece’s cheek.

In the living room, she heard the soft voices of her children. A sudden rush of tears caught her off guard. She struggled for control. They had almost lost her. If Paul Kennedy had been farther away, this night might have had a whole different ending. For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she was being watched over. She shrugged the feeling off.

And thought again of that little girl, left alone. What would become of her?

Then another thought struck. Would the man be able to find out who she was? He’d seen her at the neighbor’s house. She had been carrying a bag with the Early Intervention logo on it.

Irene hugged her arms close to her. Would he come looking for her?

The day had started with so much hope. Now it was turning into a nightmare. As long as that man stayed at large, she didn’t know how she would ever feel that she and her children were safe.

THREE

“Chief, you need to come out here.”

Paul shifted so his phone was wedged between his shoulder and his chin as he shrugged back into his coat. Sergeant Olsen’s voice was slightly muffled, but he could still hear the words clearly. Jerking his shoulder to adjust the fit of the coat, he took the cell phone back in his hand and strode out the sliding doors and back into the cold, snowy night.

“I’m heading out now, Olsen. Just needed to wait for Sergeant Zee to get here.” He felt a little guilty. She had no idea what was coming when Mary woke up. Maybe it would be fine and Mary would take to her the way she had to Irene. Maybe. But, somehow, he doubted it.

Thinking of Irene left a hollow feeling in his stomach. Was she safe? Jace would have called if something more had happened. But he couldn’t get the image of the bearded man out of his mind. He didn’t look like a man who would give up. One thing was sure—Paul wouldn’t be able to focus as long as Irene was still in danger. He grabbed his phone and put in a call, directing that someone would drive past her house each hour. Being the chief of police definitely had its perks.

At the scene, he parked his cruiser in the driveway behind Olsen’s vehicle. It was obvious that the driveway had not been plowed in the past few hours. He couldn’t really tell if he was on the pavement or on the grass. Not that it mattered.

“Chief.” Olsen trudged through the snow to meet him. “Jackson is with the neighbors right now. The people who called nine-one-one. I figured you might want to go over. And then there are some things in the house I want your opinion on.”

Paul nodded. “Right. I’ll head right over.” He lifted his gaze to the house. It looked dark and ghoulish at night, very poorly lit. It had obviously not been kept up. Just what horrors did it hide inside? The sooner they finished processing this scene, the easier he would feel.

Sergeant Jackson was still talking to the family when Paul entered the room.

“Sir, this is Mr. and Mrs. Zilcher. They called in the shots when the man started shooting after Irene. I mean, Mrs. Martello.”

Paul focused in on the stressed faces of the young couple. What a way to spend their evening.

“Folks, thanks for calling it in. Mrs. Martello is safe, no doubt because you were so brave.” That was certainly true. He shuddered to think what would have happened if the couple hadn’t notified the police. He wouldn’t have known to head in this direction, and Irene...

He took in a deep breath, noticing that everyone was staring at him. Now was not the time to think of Irene. Pushing thoughts of the lovely widow out of his mind, he recommitted himself to getting to the bottom of the case. As soon as humanly possible. With lots of Divine help.

Lord, I place Irene, my officers, that child, and all involved in Your hands.

“Do you know the people who live in that house?”

Mrs. Zilcher bit her lip, then she ducked her head, as if ashamed. “I know it sounds bad, but we avoided them. They seemed, I don’t know... Honey?”

She turned to her husband.

“The first time we saw them, the younger man—not the one who fired the shots—yelled at our older son for playing too near their property. Now, Joel is only six. He wasn’t doing any harm, but that man scared him so much that ever since, we have just avoided them at all costs.”

Paul nodded. It made sense. “And would I be correct to assume that your son never went near the house again?”

“Chief, this has always been a very safe area. But in the past two months since they arrived, I don’t even let him go outside in the backyard alone. And it’s fenced in.”

Smart move.

“What about this afternoon? After the man pursued Mrs. Martello, did he come back?”

“No. But within half an hour, all of them took off.” Mrs. Zilcher twisted her wedding ring. “I didn’t see them come out, but I heard lots of loud revving, and then the truck and the car both left. I haven’t seen them since.”

The man who went after Irene must have warned them when he saw Paul’s police car approaching.

Paul broke into their narrative. “Who is ‘them’? Can you describe the people you saw there? Anything you can remember will help. Age, gender, descriptions...anything at all.”

“Well, let’s see,” Mrs. Zilcher ticked them off on her fingers. “There was that young guy. Just an average-looking man. Maybe in his early twenties? Blondish hair, collar length. Average build. Really, no one you’d look twice at if you saw him on the street or at the store. Then the big guy who shot at Irene, our service coordinator. He was a handsome enough man. Well groomed. But he looked so fierce. Probably late thirties, early forties. Not overweight, but big. Definitely over six feet. The last guy I never got a real good look at.” She turned to her husband.

He shook his head. “I didn’t, either. He was usually pretty covered up. Hats, hooded sweatshirts, hunting coats. Got the impression that he tried to keep from being noticed. Only glimpsed him briefly when I did see him. And then I only really saw him from the back.”

“Did you ever notice a young woman, maybe in her late teens or early twenties, at the house?”

Both of them shook their heads.

So how long had she been there? And was she one of them or another victim? Paul was starting to get a very ugly picture in his mind.

“What about any children?”

“Children?” Mrs. Zilcher blinked, startled. “No, I certainly never saw any children there.”

Half an hour later, that picture was even darker.

Going through the abandoned house was not something that Paul was likely to forget. In the back bedroom, around where Irene would have seen the girl looking out the window, there was indeed dried blood on the floor. Recent blood. There was some on the wall, too. One spot looked like a handprint, tiny and low to the ground. Either from a very young person or someone who was very small. The team had already pulled fingerprints and would see if they could track down any matches. Hopefully, there would be something in their system that would connect to either Mary or the girl Irene had seen. Paul refused to think of what might have happened to her. She was gone, so there was a shot she was still alive, though his faith in finding her alive was fading. And it would continue to fade every hour that they couldn’t find her.

His cell phone rang. It was Irene. His pulse spiked. Irene never called him.

“Irene? Are you okay? Is someone hurt?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a breathy sound, almost a laugh but not quite. “Paul, I’m fine. You startled me. I’m not used to hearing you yell.”

He had yelled, hadn’t he? Stretching his neck to the side to relieve his sudden tension, he tried again, keeping his voice calm.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. But you caught me at a tense moment.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?” Her voice was reluctantly concerned.

“With me, everything’s dandy. But this house, Irene, it’s bad. Really bad.” He shook his head, deciding not to say any more. She might have been married to a cop, but she still was a civilian. And he wanted to spare her from the rougher parts of his job. Not that she’d ever give him a chance to share anything more. He had more or less shattered any chance with her, now or in the future, when he’d abandoned her on that long-ago homecoming night. If only he could explain why...

He scoffed silently. That would make her even more resistant, knowing his secrets. No, his secret scars would have to remain that way.

“I just realized something, that’s why I called. When I was thinking about the girl in the house, the one who was watching me? Well, I just realized that she looked like there was something around her neck. And now, thinking about it, I believe they were bonnet straps. I think she was Amish, too, just like Mary.”

“What else was she wearing?”

“I couldn’t tell. She was mostly out of view. I’m sorry. I’m probably not much help.” Her voice was growing embarrassed.

“No, actually, you are. I have more information than I did before—that’s always a good thing.”

So now they needed to search for a missing child and a missing girl. They would start searching in the local Amish communities. If they didn’t succeed there, then they would widen their search.

“Thanks, Irene. I mean it. Every detail helps.”

“How’s Mary doing?”

His heart softened. Irene, always thinking about the plight of others. She’d always been that way. “I left her with Sergeant Zee.”

“Did she go quietly?”

“Yeah, but that was probably because she was asleep.”

“Paul!”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She couldn’t see him, after all. “I will check on her first thing in the morning. Promise.”

After disconnecting the call, he went to the room where Olsen was taking pictures.

“What did you want to see me about, Olsen?”

“Look at all this stuff, Chief. What do you make of it?”

There was a trunk full of children’s clothes in various sizes and colors. All of them showed signs of wear. And there was a pair of Amish breeches on top. Beside the trunk, there was a bottle, still half-full, and a dirty sippy cup.

“Mary wasn’t the only child these people have taken, is my guess. Maybe they still have one or two of them. What they were planning to do with them, I don’t know. But we need to find them. Fast.”

Before any more children were taken. Or worse.

* * *

Irene couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so tired. Last night, she had tossed and turned. When she had finally fallen into a restless sleep, it was to be disturbed in her dreams by images of being chased at gunpoint. She finally gave up. It was only quarter after six, but she knew trying to fall back to sleep was hopeless. Throwing back the covers, she padded to the boys’ bedroom and peeked in. Both were still sound asleep. She sighed, aching with tenderness at the sight of the peaceful children.

Since the peace wouldn’t last, she might as well get ready for the day. She dressed in casual jeans and an emerald green turtleneck sweater. She lugged out her workbag, shaking off the memories.

Pulling out her laptop, she spent some time finishing an evaluation report. By the time it was completed, she could hear the boys arguing in the kitchen. They were up early. Normally, the thought of facing their fighting at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning would annoy her. The memory of the night before washed away any trace of aggravation. She was here, safe, with her kids. That was a lot to be grateful for.

She entered the kitchen, kissed her boys and ruffled their hair as she walked past. Their dog, Izzy, was peacefully snoozing under the table.

“Hi, Mommy!” Matthew peeked up at her with his ragged grin, his front teeth missing. “Can we have waffles for breakfast?”

That was Matthew. His stomach always came first.

“Waffles sound good to me. AJ?”

Her older son peered at her through his new glasses. My, he was looking so grown-up. When had her baby become such a big boy?

Tony would have loved this.

“Waffles are yummy. Can we set up the tree today?”

Ugh. The Christmas tree. One more thing she didn’t want to face. But at least she could give her children the fun parts of Christmas.

She made them waffles, and then the boys helped her drag out the artificial tree and ornaments. She sat down in the center of the living room floor to sort the ornaments, AJ by her side. As she was unraveling the lights, Matthew stood at the window, his face intent. She frowned when she noted him standing on his tiptoes, straining to see something.

“Matthew, why are you staring out the window?”

“I’m watching the man, Mommy.”

She set aside the strand of lights in her hands, unease dancing down her spine. It could be nothing, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

“What man, darling?” Calm. Stay calm. The last thing they need is for you to overreact.

“That man across the street.” Matthew hadn’t turned around, still intent on the stranger.

“Matthew, come away from the window.” How she was able to keep from raising her voice she’d never know.

Something in her tone must have said she meant business, though, because Matthew left his place and skittered down on the floor beside her, his small face pale. The freckles on his cheeks stood out.

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

Her poor baby.

“It’s okay, love, I’m going to call Chief Paul. He’ll know what to do.”

Crawling over to the end table, she grabbed her phone and dialed Paul’s number with shaking fingers. It wasn’t until the phone started ringing that she wondered why she’d instinctively called him and not Jace. Because Paul helped her last night? Of course that was why. She moved to the window and peered out, taking care to keep out of sight. There parked on the street across from her was a dark sedan. Was that the one that had been sitting at the bearded man’s house?

“Hello.”

Paul’s deep drawl sent a shiver down her spine. She scolded herself. She didn’t have time for that. Sure, he was strong and was well respected in LaMar Pond, but he was hiding something. She was certain. Only, right now, it didn’t seem to matter.

“Paul,” she whispered. “There’s a man sitting in his car outside my house. He’s watching us. And I can’t be sure, but it may be one of the people from that house. The car looks familiar.”

“Irene, are the boys with you?” His voice had lost all trace of the lazy, relaxed drawl. Its intensity communicated his concern over the phone.

“Yes, we are all here.”

“Okay, this is what I want you to do. Make sure the doors are locked. And keep away from the windows. Whatever you do, do not answer the door unless it’s me or Jace. I’m going to call him right now. He’s closer to your house. I will be over as soon as I can.”

Click.

She slid the phone back into her pocket and looked at the two frightened faces before her.

“Boys, let’s go back to the kitchen.”

“Aren’t we setting up the tree?” AJ asked, disappointment on his face.

Matthew didn’t argue. He was already halfway there.

“We’ll make Christmas cookies first,” Irene declared, coming up with an impromptu diversion. Both faces brightened.

Her phone rang again. Paul.

“Jace is on his way, too. Sit tight, Irene. We’ll be there ASAP.”

Her nerves were shot by the time Jace arrived. She saw his car pull around the corner from the kitchen window. Immediately, an engine revved. She heard tires squeal as a car raced in the opposite direction. The watcher had left. The cruiser’s lights burst into a swirl of blue and red as Jace followed in pursuit.

Less than five minutes later, someone pounded on her front door. Yelping, she dropped the bowl of icing she’d just whipped together. The silver bowl bounced, flinging white icing on the cupboard doors and all over her blue jeans.

“Irene? It’s me. Paul.”

Paul. She placed a hand over her pounding heart and closed her eyes, fighting the urge to wilt against the countertops.

“Mommy, Chief Paul is here.” AJ frowned as the chief called out again. “Should I let him in?”

“No! No, I will do it. You boys stay here and wipe up this mess. Please.”

They looked less than thrilled, but both nodded. She had expected some protest. Especially from AJ. That neither boy offered even a token resistance told her that they had sensed the seriousness of the situation.

She moved to the door and opened it. She came face-to-face with Paul, his hand raised to knock again. Patent relief flashed across his face as he saw her. His gaze moved over her, checking for injury or signs of distress. She knew the moment he spotted the icing by the way his mouth curled up at the sides. Not exactly a grin, but she could tell he was amused.

Only for a moment, however. The smile vanished so fast she might have imagined it.

“Jace went after the guy,” she informed him.

He nodded. “Yeah, he almost caught him, too. The guy got out and took off running across the interstate. Unfortunately, Jace didn’t get a good look at him. The Zilchers are coming in to look through the data files. I think you should do that, too. Immediately, if not sooner. In the meantime, Jace is going to go over the car the guy abandoned. See what he can get from it.”

There was no way she could refuse. If this was related to what had happened the day before, they had found out where she lived. The situation was as serious and urgent as it could get. “My kids...”

Paul laid a hand on her shoulder. She shivered. The warmth of his hand spread out. Not now. This was not a good idea. She moved back.

“Take them to your mom’s house. Jace already called her.”

She had no choice. Reluctantly, she agreed. The reluctance was partially because she didn’t want to be separated from them right now. And, she admitted to herself, partly because she didn’t like this awareness of Paul that seemed to be returning. The thought of spending more time alone with him was unsettling. She wasn’t a high school girl anymore—what was wrong with her?

As she bundled them up for the trip to her mother’s, she couldn’t stop the dread quivering in her belly. She had to work hard to keep her apprehension from showing on her face. Kids were sensitive. They would pick up on her disquiet in a heartbeat.

But her mother’s heart wouldn’t let it go.

“Paul,” she began as she made her way back to the living room with two boys wrapped up tight in their winter gear. She stopped. Paul was no longer alone. Jace and Miles were there, deep in conversation. The men stopped talking when she appeared.

Paul nodded at the other two men and approached Irene and the boys. “Hey, guys. How would you like a ride to your grandma’s in a police car?” He grinned at the boys like he was suggesting an adventure, rather than moving to get them out of harm’s way. “Sergeant Olsen was wanting to visit your gran. Think she’ll have cookies he can swipe?”

AJ nodded, his face serious. “Yeah, Granny always has cookies. But he better ask first.”

“And say please,” Matthew added.

“I’m sure he will.” Paul patted their heads affectionately.

His eyes, though, when he glanced back at Irene, were completely devoid of humor.

He’s as worried as I am.

That scared her most of all.

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