Misconceptions Read online

  Dominique handed the waitress the folder with her credit card protruding from one end before Joe could object. She touched his arm. “I understand. I hope everything is okay.”

  “Actually, I need to get back to the hospital. Emily is awake and very alert. Her family wants me to be there when they tell her about the baby, in case the bad news affects her condition. If that isn’t bad enough, we had to do a complete hysterectomy, so if she ever has children, it will have to be through adoption.”

  “Such a tragedy. I wish I could do something.”

  He sighed. “It would help if the police found their baby.”

  The waitress returned, and Dominique accepted the black leather billfold with a smile. She quickly added a generous tip and retrieved her credit card.

  “That doesn’t seem fair, Dominique. I ask you out to dinner, and you pay the bill. Please let me make it up to you.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Joe. I really enjoyed talking with you. Please don’t worry about it.”

  “Have lunch with me on Sunday. This time I’ll pay.” He gave her an irresistible smile.

  She fiddled with the zipper on her purse. She could never be the woman Joe was looking for. He needed a woman who shared his faith, someone who was pure and acceptable. The exact opposite of her. But she couldn’t resist his charm. Instead, she threw reason aside. “Where would you like to meet?”

  “How about I pick you up?” he suggested as they stood.

  How could she explain living in a long-term motel? “That’s okay. Just give me a place and a time, and I’ll be there.” She held her breath. Would he agree or push the issue?

  “There’s a great Mexican restaurant on Fifth Street.” He gave her directions as they walked outside. “See you at one on Sunday.”

  She waved as he headed to his car. She breathed in the scent of his pleasant masculine cologne that trailed behind him. What was she doing? She was in way over her head. He was a Christian, and her mother always told her that unless she changed her ways, she wasn’t fit or equally yoked, or however she termed it.

  As she walked to her car, she considered the huge barrier her lie created between them. She flopped down in the front seat of her rental and took a deep breath. Then there was the other matter. The spiritual element. If she revealed her past to Joe, he would drop her. Only one other person knew her shameful secret, two if you included God, and she preferred not to include Him. There had to be a limit to what He would forgive.

  Her cell phone vibrated. Channing. Oh, brother. What does he want? There was a time in her life when seeing his name on her phone brought a jolt of happiness—but now it gave her an ache in the pit of her stomach. But after two more rings, curiosity got the best of her. “Hello, Channing.”

  “Hi, beautiful. You miss me?” His smooth baritone taunted her. She rolled her eyes and resisted spewing forth the sarcastic reply on the tip of her tongue. “What do you want?”

  “Do I have to want something in order to talk with my favorite correspondent?”

  She pictured him sitting on a warm California beach, his blond hair tossed by the gentle breeze, his rugged physique covered in sunscreen. Work and relaxation flowed together so easily for him. Somehow he always succeeded, relying on the labor of other people. How could she have been so blinded?

  “With you, there’s always a reason. Are you calling to brag?”

  “Spoken like a reporter who doesn’t have a story. Things a little slow in southern Ohio?”

  She played with the dials on the car radio. He might have gotten the coveted assignment—to expose a giant, money-hungry corporation—but she wouldn’t let him get the best of her. She’d find a newsworthy story, even if she had to embellish one of her current leads. “As a matter of fact, things are coming together quite nicely. I have a lead on the population story, and I’m working on another angle. One I think Stew will want to feature.”

  “You’re lying, Dominique. There’s nothing going on in Ohio. No story there.”

  The bulletin board of missing children flashed in her mind. “If you call a black market baby ring nothing, then you don’t know a good news story when it hits you square in the face.” She cringed.

  “You have a lead on the baby black market? I don’t believe it.” The challenge in his voice carried through the phone.

  The words flowed out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I have a solid lead that’s sure to be the head story for weeks on end. Pollution is boring compared to murder and missing children. Think about it.” She hung up without saying good-bye.

  She slumped back in the bucket seat. Channing had a big mouth. Better to end the conversation before she got in any deeper.

  At the rate Dominique was going with her investigation into the higher pregnancy rate here in Ohio, maybe she’d have better luck if she shifted the focus of her story to the kidnappings. But where should she start?

  What about Emily and her missing child? Maybe she could offer to help Emily’s family deal with the loss of a child. Their conversations would inevitably involve the horrifying event. She had to remember something that would help. If it led to finding one child, maybe others would be found too.

  Joe’s brother was a police officer. As she pulled up to a red light, she considered how she could question him without raising suspicions. Her credentials as a social worker would help. The fact that she had to use a lie nagged at her. But maybe it would be worth it if she could help find Emily’s baby.

  Channing’s smug face popped into her mind. She couldn’t completely neglect her original assignment, but she needed a direction for the investigation to follow. Then she could prove to Stew and Channing and everyone else that she wasn’t just another pretty face to put in front of the camera with no more ability than to read what scrolled along the teleprompter. She would prove she was a qualified news reporter who could uncover the truth no matter the consequences.

  If only she could ignore the red flags and warning bells cautioning trouble ahead. It was the same admonition she had before she made the worst mistake in her life. The one sin God would never forgive.

  ***

  Houston reached across the bed to draw Becky closer to him, but his hand hit a cold, empty sheet. Sleep fled from him as he sat up.

  Light shone from underneath the bathroom door, along with muffled crying. He knocked twice, then gently pushed the door open. “Everything okay, honey?”

  Becky sat next to the tub, crying into her hands.

  The sight broke his heart. He knelt beside her on the hard tile floor and pulled her into his arms. “What’s wrong?”

  She grabbed a tissue from the box on the floor next to her and blew her nose. She pulled the pregnancy test strip from the counter and waved it in front of him. “Negative. I was so certain this time would be different.”

  Houston took the strip from her hand. A single pink line glared from the small window. “It’ll happen. I know it will. No one would make a better mother than you.”

  She shook her head. “I’m three weeks late. I don’t understand. Unless … ”

  He let out a long, slow breath. She was surely thinking about their conversation with Samuel. “Let’s go talk in bed. We’ll be more comfortable there.”

  He helped her up from the floor, grabbed the box of tissues, and they settled next to each other in bed. “Please don’t let what my dad said earlier cloud circumstances. Maybe this test is wrong. The only other time you were this late, you were pregnant.”

  “That’s why I was so certain this was it. I wanted to get to the doctor early and hopefully prevent another miscarriage.”

  He drew her closer and placed a kiss on her head. “Make an appointment. That test could be wrong.”

  “It’s not wrong.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do.” She leaned on him. “It’s so hard not to give up … especially after what your dad said. I know you don’t believe him, but I don’t think he’s lost his mind.”

&n
bsp; Houston kissed her again. “We had this problem long before he started spouting religious banter.”

  Becky sat straight up. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Completely dismiss what’s been going on. What if he’s right … have you even considered that?”

  Houston’s cell phone buzzed from the top of his nightstand. This late, it was probably work-related. “This is Armstrong.”

  “There’s been another murder,” the on-call dispatcher relayed. “Lt. Davidson wants you on the case.”

  Houston rolled off the bed and reached for the notepad on the nightstand. “What’s the address?”

  “Two-hundred Damascus Street.”

  His heart slammed in his chest. The address of the church Becky, Joe, and Cindy belong to. “I’ll be there in fifteen.” He ended the call. “I’m so sorry, honey. I have to go.” He kissed her forehead. “I hate leaving, especially when you’re upset, but this can’t wait.”

  Becky pulled the comforter up to her chin. “Bad news?”

  “There’s been another murder.”

  “Please tell me it’s not another mother and child. I don’t think I could handle that, not after the night we’ve had.” He grabbed his badge, cell phone, and Glock. “I won’t know till I get there.” But the thought haunted him. He leaned and kissed her good-bye. Becky deepened the kiss, making it difficult for him to break their embrace. “I’ll call you when I can. Try to get some sleep.”

  At the church, Houston approached the group gathered around the body, waiting for the coroner to arrive.

  The body lay face down underneath a large oak tree at the back of the church property.

  Houston pulled on Latex gloves and moved closer. Faded jeans, gray T-shirt—he held his breath as he turned the victim over.

  The officer behind him flashed a light on the dead man’s face. The deep purple birthmark glowed, even in the poor lighting.

  Houston swore.

  “You know the guy, Armstrong?”

  “Yeah. He’s the man who kidnapped my nephew.”

  Chapter Seven

  Light streamed in through the church’s stained glass windows, casting a rainbow shadow on the tweed-colored carpet in front of Travis. If only he could be out in the sunlight. Anywhere but on this hard, wooden pew.

  His gaze drifted to the other side of the aisle. A guy from his weekly Bible study group waved, but Travis looked down. He hadn’t been to the men’s group in several months. He’d get back to it, as soon as he could get his life back on track.

  Next to him, and Cindy looked beautiful in her pink silk blouse and blue trousers. Her hair was fastened in a neat braid, and everything was in place, in spite of crying most of the night. At least, on the outside. But when his leg had brushed hers, she pulled away.

  He owed her an apology, but he wasn’t ready to talk yet. No, it would be better to tell her about the struggles when he was more certain of a solution. She would blame him for their predicament, but he wasn’t the one who had insisted on private school or a closet full of designer clothes.

  He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead as the choir filed onto the stage. Truth be told, he was still angry. He felt like an animal with its foot in a trap.

  Another baby.

  How could Cindy be pregnant when he’d had a vasectomy? This isn’t happening. Did she cheat on me? When they were dating in college, rumors circulated about Cindy and some football player. He chose not to believe the gossip, had never even asked her about it. He’d been afraid of the answer and what her reaction might be. Now, years later, he suspected her of committing adultery again. She didn’t deserve that. A breath caught in his throat.

  He twisted the gold band on his left ring finger as the choir sang. If he truly loved her more today than the day he’d married her, how come he felt so trapped? He should be thrilled about the baby, but his true feelings cut to the heart. He didn’t want another child. Babies cost a lot of money, and the timing couldn’t be worse. In fact, he couldn’t foresee a good time—he was drowning in debt.

  He thought about the pile of unpaid bills hidden in his desk drawer. Seemed like the harder he worked, the deeper he sank. When was the last time he spent an entire day with the family? Business dealings had sapped more of his time than he thought possible. Cindy and the kids deserved better than him. On more than one occasion, Cindy had pleaded with him about spending more time with her and the kids. Adding another child into the mix would only stretch him thinner. He didn’t have enough time for the four kids he already had.

  “Did you bring the tithe check?” she whispered as the choir finished their song.

  The question only intensified his troubled thoughts. “No, I’ll mail it this week.” The lies were becoming a habit. He’d had to tell a lie about the missing car. Told her he parked in a no-parking zone, and it got towed. He was trying to protect her from the ugly truth. The kids kept her busy enough. Why burden her with their money problems?

  Travis opened the bulletin and read the day’s topic: “Integrity – How to Live an Authentic Christian Life.” Maybe I should leave. I could tell her I’m not feeling well. Perspiration formed on his brow, he fanned himself with the bulletin. He pulled at the knot on his tie and undid his top button.

  As he leaned over to let Cindy know they needed to leave, Joe slid in at the end of their pew. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite sister and her husband.” Joe hugged Cindy, then shook Travis’s hand.

  “I’ll take that compliment, even though I’m your only sister.”

  No hope of leaving now. He’d just have to suffer through the service. He had too much on his mind to concentrate on a sermon, especially one on integrity. Lying, poor business decisions, a failing marriage … you’re a great example of integrity!

  If only he were on the end so he could make a quick exit at the end of the service. He didn’t feel like making small talk with anyone.

  “We have news,” Cindy whispered to Joe.

  Travis leaned in close to her, “Let’s not get into that right now, Cindy. We need to discuss it further.”

  She glared at him. “What’s to discuss?” She turned back to Joe. “Ignore him. Travis is just a little shocked right now and not himself.”

  Joe’s eyebrows shot up. “This must be good. Let’s hear it.”

  Before Cindy could spill the dreadful news, the worship leader asked the congregation to stand. Travis had never been more relieved. Somehow sharing the news with family would make the pregnancy more real. Maybe Cindy had made a mistake; she hadn’t even seen a doctor. Perhaps the home pregnancy test gave her a false positive. It was a slim possibility, but it did give him some measure of hope.

  The service flew by. If given a test on the sermon, Travis would certainly fail. He placed his hand on Cindy’s arm. “Let’s get the kids and get out of here. I have work to do.”

  “Joe’s meeting a friend from work for lunch, and he wants to know if I can join him. I’ll only be a few hours. Do you mind watching the kids?” Cindy looked at Travis with such hope in her eyes.

  With a pile of work waiting for him at home, he’d planned on Cindy feeding the kids lunch. He could get a lot of work done while they napped. “Can you make it another day?”

  The disappointment in her eyes made his stomach tighten, but he pushed the guilt aside. Once they were out of this mess it would all be just a bad memory. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll get the kids and load them into the Land Rover. You can visit for a few minutes.”

  His offer did little to appease her, although he did notice a slight smile on her face. He excused himself and headed back to the nursery and Sunday school area. After collecting the kids, he dashed for the door. If he could make it to the parking lot, he could avoid having uncomfortable conversations with anyone else.

  Carrying one twin boy in each arm, he urged the five-year-old twin girls to hurry.

  Audrey pointed, “What’s that man doing with our car?”

  Travis looked u
p. The Land Rover was hooked up to a red tow truck. When the man at the wheel stuck his arm out the window and waved, the truck pulled out of the church parking lot.

  How was he going to explain this to Cindy?

  Chapter Eight

  Fifteen minutes late for her date with Joe, Dominique hurried to the small wooden table at the back of the restaurant. Her stomach growled at the mingled aroma of cumin and oregano. Joe stood when she arrived at the table, and the napkin from his lap fell to the ground.

  She picked it up and handed it to him. “If you’re half as messy as I am eating Mexican food, you’re going to need this.”

  “Thanks. Did you have trouble finding the place? I would have been happy to pick you up.”

  Dominique sat down. “I’m sorry I’m late. I thought Gladys would keep me from getting lost, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “Gladys?”

  “Yeah, that’s my GPS system. I gave her a name so I wouldn’t resent her telling me where to go all the time.”

  Joe laughed. “I’m more of a map lover.”

  The waiter set a basket of warm tortilla chips and salsa on the table.

  Dominique grabbed a chip. “How was church this morning?”

  Joe leaned forward. “It was a really nice service. I enjoyed the message, and I got to see most of my family.”

  “Do you all go to the same church?” Dominique unwrapped her straw, then knotted the wrapper.

  “Everyone except my dad.”

  “Doesn’t he attend?”

  Joe sipped his iced tea. “No. He’s in the veteran’s hospital. He’s disabled, and now they’re trying to convince us he has dementia or is mentally unstable.”

  “Is he misplacing things or wandering off?”

  “No, nothing like that.” He dipped a chip in the salsa. “They’re concerned that dementia is exacerbating his supposed delusions.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m sensing from your tone that you aren’t in agreement with this diagnosis.”

  “You’re right about that one.” He popped the chip in his mouth.