Finding Amy Read online

  Sam wished he could be paged back to work about now, but he wasn’t on call tonight. Not on call, but always on duty, as the gun in his ankle holster reminded him.

  His mother’s Italian accent expressed a sense of excitement that Sam had no desire to feel right now. “Jessica Mathers, this is our son, Samuel. He’s a detective with the Colorado Springs Police Department.”

  Jessica’s mouth tightened when she glanced up at him. “Yes,” she replied, “we’ve met once, under not-so-wonderful circumstances.”

  So she remembers that night, too.

  Jessica moistened her lips. “I hope this meeting will be a little less stressful…for both of us.”

  FAITH ON THE LINE:

  Two powerful families wage war on evil…and find love

  ADAM’S PROMISE—

  Gail Gaymer Martin (LI #259)

  FINDING AMY—

  Carol Steward (LI #263)

  GABRIEL’S DISCOVERY—

  Felicia Mason (LI #267)

  REDEEMING TRAVIS—

  Kate Welsh (LI #271)

  PETER’S RETURN—

  Cynthia Cooke (LI #275)

  PROTECTING HOLLY—

  Lynn Bulock (LI #279)

  Books by Carol Steward

  Love Inspired

  There Comes a Season #27

  Her Kind of Hero #56

  Second Time Around #92

  Courting Katarina #134

  This Time Forever #165

  Finding Amy #263

  CAROL STEWARD

  wrote daily to a pen pal for ten years, yet writing as a career didn’t occur to her for another two decades. “My first key chain said ‘Bloom where you’re planted.’ I’ve tried to follow that advice ever since.”

  Carol, her husband and their three children have planted their roots in Greeley. Together, their family enjoys sports, camping and discovering Colorado’s beauty. Carol has operated her own cake-decorating business and spent fifteen years providing full-time child care to more than one hundred children before moving on to the other end of the education field. She is now an admissions advisor at a state university.

  As always, Carol loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her at P.O. Box 200286, Evans, CO 80620. She would also love for you to visit her Web page at www.carolsteward.com.

  FINDING AMY

  CAROL STEWARD

  Dedicated to families searching for loved ones.

  May the Heavenly Father be your support.

  Acknowledgments

  My thanks to Jeffrey Sweetin, Special Agent with the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration, and Dave Galyard, School Resource Officer with the Greeley Police Department, for helping me clarify the intricacies of he wonderful jobs you do!

  He that conceals his transgressions

  shall not prosper: but whoso confesses

  and forsakes them shall have mercy.

  —Proverbs 28:13

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Detective Samuel Vance—He’s successfully taken down his friend’s would-be killer. Can Sam rescue a missing child…and not lose his heart to the girl’s mother in the process?

  Jessica Mathers—The single mother has lived with terrible pain since the car accident that left her widowed. She wouldn’t be able to survive losing her precious little Amy.

  Amy Mathers—Jessi’s daughter is only three years old. Where could she be?

  Deanne Jones—What reason did the physically scarred baby-sitter have for disappearing with Amy?

  Detective Rebecca Hilliard—Her job was to find missing persons. But would her feelings for her ex-boyfriend Sam get in the way?

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Letter to Reader

  Chapter One

  Detective Samuel Vance had seen Jessica Mathers before, too many times. One too many, anyway. Like the night her drunk of a husband died. It was nothing short of a miracle that the accident hadn’t killed Jessica and her daughter at the same time.

  Jessica greeted each single man at the engagement party with a champagne flute in her hand, then sipped the bubbly faithfully. The waiter stopped and offered a replacement for her empty glass; Jessica giggled and leaned close, but didn’t take another. Her light-brown hair glistened in the soft light of the chandelier. Though a healthy-size woman, she seemed thinner every time he saw her.

  Sam recalled the way she’d looked the night of the accident—bruise on her left jaw, cuts all over her face. He’d been the first on scene. Her husband died immediately. Sam had taken her vitals, then glanced into the back seat and his heart had raced. He looked for the baby belonging to the diaper bag. “There’s a baby somewhere! Where’s the baby?” He jumped away from the car and turned circles, shining his flashlight into the field. No one had believed him, but he hadn’t given up. He’d been the one to hear the little girl’s whimper.

  Sam turned away, wishing he hadn’t been the officer on call that night. “A Vance never forgets,” his father used to tell him. How he wished he could. Hers had been the most gruesome accident he’d seen. He shook the memory loose and searched for the bride-and groom-to-be.

  Love songs crooned for Adam and Kate, the couple whose engagement sparked the laughter and happiness tonight. But as Sam bit into a dainty appetizer, he realized he needed to vent some frustration. After arresting Dr. Lionel Valenti for shooting Adam Montgomery in Venezuela and assaulting Kate Darling, Sam should be elated. Unfortunately, Valenti hadn’t been as cooperative as they’d hoped he would be during the questioning. Sam needed something more than suspicion to tie Valenti to the Diablo crime syndicate. Tension in the division was at a peak. After almost a week, neither Sam nor any of the other top-notch interrogators had gotten the doctor to crack.

  Sam heard Jessica laugh. The kind of party-girl giggle that spread like a virus. He watched the man beside her turn to putty.

  “You’re looking awfully cranky tonight,” Sam’s ex-sister-in-law teased. Emily followed his gaze and smiled softly. “Interesting view, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged, dismissing her baited question. “Interesting to who?”

  She nudged him. “I have news for you, Samuel, you’re not that discreet. Face it, you Vance men don’t look if you don’t like the woman.”

  He glanced back at Jessica, angry that Emily had caught him. He could try to deny Emily’s accusation, but he’d never succeed. “There’s an exception to every rule.”

  Emily’s laughter bounced off the colonial pane windows surrounding the Broadmoor Hotel ballroom and practically shattered the crystal chandelier. Sam felt as if a spotlight had just turned on them. His dad glanced over and headed toward him and Emily.

  Sam didn’t want to talk business right now. Especially not when his parents were together. He had questions for his father that couldn’t be asked, let alone answered in public. “Now look what you’ve done,” he said, razzing Emily. He scoped out their proximity to the exits. “It’s too far to the door to escape.”

  “Don’t be silly, why would you want to do that? Look, your mom and dad are bringing the woman with them,” Emily murmured before
she complimented his parents. “They look so young and in love.”

  Sam turned away from the oncoming trio, intending to take the shortest route out of the ballroom. Leave it to an engagement to put his mother in matchmaker mode. She and Mrs. Montgomery were both anxious for their families to grow. “I’m leaving, care to join me?”

  Emily followed. “Sam, what has gotten into you?”

  “Let’s just say it’s business related. And the last thing I want to talk about tonight is work.”

  “You and your father have to learn to communicate now that he’s retired, Sam. He’s home. Make the best of it.”

  “He’s here all right. In my face. On the job and off.” Just like Jessica Mathers.

  Sam looked over his shoulder, relieved to find his mother introducing his dad and Jessica to one of her bridge club buddies. He took Emily by the elbow and zigzagged through the elegant surroundings where all of Colorado Springs’s socialites, and a few of the working stiffs like himself, gathered in party attire. Sam removed his sport coat, hoping to cool off outside.

  Emily simply waited for further explanation.

  Sam grumbled about the impromptu celebration. “I’m not much for these shindigs.”

  Emily gave him a dirty look, even as he opened the door to the terrace for her.

  “Samuel Vance. You should be happy for them.” Emily scolded him as only a “sister” could.

  Unsuccessful at ignoring her scowl, he conceded. “I am happy. Believe me. I’m happier than anyone in this city that Adam and Kate are still here to celebrate.”

  “I hear the wedding’s at the end of the month. Sounds like they’re anxious to return to the clinic in Santa Maria de Flores. Now can you make a little better attempt to enjoy yourself?”

  He shook his head. “My mood has nothing to do with the party. I told you that. And I’d rather drop the subject.”

  As if she knew better than to try to intervene between the Vance men, Emily remained silent. Sam looked to the heavens and said a prayer. The August sun dangled above Pikes Peak, promising a colorful sunset. That alone assured Sam that God was in control, tonight and every night.

  It suddenly dawned on Sam that Emily’s silence might have more to do with her divorce from his brother than anything else. Stress built up inside law enforcement personnel, issues that couldn’t be shared, even with loved ones. Sometimes especially because they were loved ones. “I’m sorry, Emily, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “That part of the Vance life just never goes away, does it. Everything’s top secret.”

  Something in her comment sounded like a freshly opened wound. “You heard from Peter?”

  Emily leaned against the planter filled with bright red geraniums and tiny white flowers. Her voice softened. “No, I gave up on that long ago. You don’t expect anything from an undercover agent. That way you’re not disappointed.”

  “Even a do-better like you won’t make it to heaven telling lies like that, Doc.” He reached out and offered a brotherly hug. “You have every right to be disappointed. We just have to trust God is watching over Peter, wherever he is.”

  “Sounds like too serious a conversation for a party.” Sam’s mother stepped between them, as if suggesting something clandestine was going on. “Lovely party, isn’t it?”

  Sam and Emily both nodded obediently.

  Lidia placed her hand on Jessica’s arm and looked at Emily. “Jessica Mathers, this is Dr. Emily Armstrong, our son Peter’s ex-wife. She’s still one of the family.”

  Jessica’s rose-colored lips twitched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Armstrong.”

  “Drop the formalities, please.” Emily greeted her mother-in-law with a hug while talking to Jessica. “It’s nice to meet you.” Emily glanced at Sam and silently chuckled. “It’s nice to finally put a face to all the stories I hear about your work at the Women’s Shelter.”

  “Thank you. I couldn’t do much without our wonderful volunteers,” Jessica said, carefully keeping her focus on Emily.

  “I’ve been meaning to call, but it’s been incredibly hectic at the hospital now that the renovations are complete. Don’t hesitate to put my name on your list. I’m not always available, but I’ll be happy to do whatever I can to help. We have to do something to stop this epidemic of broken homes.”

  Sam observed the instant connection between the women, wishing he could be paged back to work about now. He knew better than to hope for the impossible. He wasn’t on call tonight. Not on call, but always on duty, as the gun in his ankle holster reminded him.

  Though Sam purposely avoided looking at his parents, as if he were a ten-year-old awaiting the doom of a major scolding, he felt his father’s forbidding figure standing guard, keeping Sam in his place. Some things never changed.

  “I’ll look forward to working with you on the next fund-raiser,” Jessica said in a silky voice.

  Sam counted the seconds until the firing squad confronted him with the one woman he longed to forget. His mother’s Italian accent expressed a sense of excitement that Sam had no desire to feel right now.

  “Jessica, this is our son, Samuel. He’s a detective with the Vice, Narcotics and Investigations Division of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Sammy…”

  Ouch. Now he knew he was ten again, and in huge trouble. He didn’t even hear the rest of the introduction. When would his mother realize a detective didn’t go by “Sammy”? Somewhere in the distance he heard Emily chuckle.

  Jessica’s mouth tightened when she glanced up to him. Her almond-shaped eyes were dark with mascara and her lips a tempting shade of soft pink. Her eyes narrowed, as if she, too, wanted to turn and run.

  “Yes,” she replied. “We met once, under not-so-wonderful circumstances.”

  So she remembers, too.

  Jessica moistened her lips. “I hope this meeting will be a little less stressful…for both of us.”

  Don’t bet on it. Sam felt his heart beat faster. Suddenly it seemed as if they were standing in the middle of a desert, and the lake was just a mirage. “How are you doing, Mrs. Mathers?” Against his better judgment, Sam offered his hand.

  “Pardon me for not shaking hands—my back is bothering me tonight. I’m sure it sounds strange, but lifting my arm is torture. Hopefully a week from now, that will change.”

  “Oh?” Emily interjected. “Are you having surgery?”

  Jessica’s eyes opened wide with surprise. “As a matter of fact, yes.” She briefly explained how doctors felt the cage from her previous surgery may need to be removed. “While they’re in, they’re going to replace a degenerating disk. Hopefully between the two, it will relieve the pinched nerves.” Being a physician, for her the abbreviated version wasn’t enough, and Jessica had begun to explain more thoroughly when a page forced Emily to say goodbye.

  No sooner had Emily deserted Sam than his parents proclaimed that they needed to talk to Mayor and Mrs. Montgomery. His mother reached up to kiss his cheek. “Give her a chance, Sam,” she whispered. “Enjoy the evening, Jessica. We’ll be in touch soon.”

  “Thank you, Lidia. I’ll see you Monday for sure.”

  Sam resisted the urge to follow his father back into the hotel. See what he was really up to. For a retired G-man, he was certainly keeping odd company these days.

  “Is this a bad time to talk, Samuel?”

  The forced words from the frail and frightened-looking woman in front of him drew his full attention. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “This is fine. As long as you call me Sam. Otherwise, I’ll think I’m in trouble. What can I help you with?”

  They were immediately interrupted by an old classmate he hadn’t seen since their ten-year reunion, followed by an apparent special delivery of Jessica’s drink.

  Her smile wavered, and he thought for a minute that she was going to cry. She took a deep breath and paused to compose herself.

  “It might be easier if we walked. Do you mind?” She took a sip from the flute and the color seeme
d to drain from her face. She strolled slowly, apparently in a lot of pain.

  “A walk is fine.” One thing he’d learned as a detective—he did whatever it took to get to the truth. Though he didn’t care anymore what Jessica’s truth might be, he’d been raised better than to walk away right after an introduction. Sam tossed his jacket over his shoulder, glad he’d chosen the ankle holster instead of securing his weapon in the small of his back.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I asked your mother to introduce us.” She turned in one motion to face him, as if her head didn’t move independently any longer.

  “You did?” The thought puzzled him only half as much as it flattered him. Even though it shouldn’t. A party-girl like Jessica would do nothing but cause trouble. His mother should know better than to try to set him up with a lush.

  Jessica blushed. “Yes, I did. I’ve meant to stop by the station ever since the accident, but time goes so fast. Now I’m trying to get ahead at work so I can have a little time off after my surgery. I’ve seen you at the Stagecoach Café a few times, but I didn’t place where I’d met you until I saw your picture in the paper this week.” She paused for a breath.

  “Is there a problem?” He could list a dozen off the top of his head, any of which she should have dealt with years ago, before marrying a louse like Tim Mathers.

  Her feet shuffled a little more quickly, almost as if trying to avoid him. Sam took an extra long step to catch up with her pace.

  “I went to the grief counseling sessions you suggested after the accident,” she said.

  They were part of the routine follow-up with the victims, providing them information that might help. In the case of the death of a spouse, it wasn’t uncommon to need help working through emotions. “I hope they made it a little easier.”