Missing

He raced from the room, his mind looping with Lacey’s first three words—“I was attacked”—and realized with some surprise that he wanted to hurt the person who’d hurt her.

Forty-five seconds later, when he saw her sitting against the side of the building with an ice pack on her cheek, the rage inside him tripled and he knew without a doubt that past or no past, betrayal or no betrayal, he was going to fall for Lacey Gibson once again.

And wondered how he was going to keep his heart from being ripped in two when it happened.

LYNETTE EASON

grew up in Greenville, SC. Her home church, Northgate Baptist, had a tremendous influence on her during her early years. She credits Christian parents and dedicated Sunday school teachers for her acceptance of Christ at the tender age of eight. Even as a young girl, she knew she wanted her life to reflect the love of Jesus.

Lynette attended the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC, then moved to Spartanburg, SC, to attend Converse College, where she obtained her master’s degree in education. During that time, she met the boy next door, Jack Eason, and married him. Jack is the executive director of the Sound of Light Ministries. Lynette and Jack have two precious children—Lauryn, eight years old, and Will, who is six. She and Jack are members of New Life Baptist Fellowship Church in Boiling Springs, SC, where Jack serves as the worship leader and Lynette teaches Sunday school to the four- and five-year-olds.

Missing

Lynette Eason

“My son” the father said, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

—Luke 15:31–32

To my family. I love you all!

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

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

“My daughter’s missing and I need your help.”

Mason stared down at the distraught redheaded woman standing on his front porch, tears swimming in her eyes, fists clenched at her side.

Shock immobilized him for a brief moment, then with an effort, he found his voice.

“Lacey Gibson.” Just saying her name transported him to the past. His first love. His first romantic heartbreak. She hadn’t changed a bit.

At least on the outside.

If her heart was as traitorous as he remembered, he was in deep trouble.

The fact that his own heart did its best to leap from his chest in joyous welcome surprised him so much he almost swallowed his tongue.

What was she doing here? And what had she said? His brain had ceased to function the minute he realized who’d knocked on his door.

Stepping toward him, she placed her hands on his chest, tears threatening to spill from those green eyes that had captivated him at first glance. She pleaded, “I need your help. Bethany’s missing and no one seems to know why, or who she may have disappeared with—and no one seems to even care or want to listen to what I have to say or—”

A finger over her lips effectively cut off her monologue—and sent fire shooting along his nerve endings. He remembered covering those sweet lips with his, kissing her until they were both breathless and…

First things first. “What are you doing here and who is Bethany?”

She seemed oblivious to the fact that she still had her hands on his chest. He wasn’t in any hurry for her to remove them.

Much to his disgust.

Was he still so besotted with her that he’d forgotten what she’d done to him sixteen years ago?

No way. He’d gotten over her a long time ago.

Or so he tried to convince himself.

And yet somehow he found himself standing in his foyer with Lacey Gibson practically wrapped in his arms—and liking it.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back, took her hand—a soft hand, he noted—and pulled her into the den. There, he deposited her on the couch and asked, “Do you need a drink of water? Some coffee?” He looked at the tears that had now spilled over to track their way down her pale cheeks. “A tissue?”

“Yes to the tissue, no to the drink.”

Mason reached around her and, with only a twinge of pain in his left shoulder, snatched a tissue from the end table and handed it to her. The only reason Lacey had found him at home at ten-thirty on a Tuesday morning was because he’d been forbidden to go back to work for another two weeks.

Being shot in the line of duty had been a real pain. Both physically and mentally. As a Deputy U.S. Marshal, he was used to action and staying busy. Being out on medical leave was definitely not on his top-one-hundred-favorite-things-to-do list. But he was almost finished with that.

And he had a feeling his days of boredom had just come to an end. She had a daughter? His gut tightened. “Why do you think she’s missing, and what do you think I can do to find her?” What he wanted to ask was why she’d chosen to come to him about it. Instead, he leaned back against the couch and studied the woman before him.

Her fiery red curls were pulled up into some kind of scrunchy thing women seemed to like. Her normally sparkling green eyes were set in an oval-shaped face that looked pale and drawn, stressed and tired. Light gray bags under her eyes attested to some lost sleep.

But she was still beautiful, and his heart warmed.

Which meant she could still be dangerous, his head argued.

His heart agreed, but from the way it threatened to beat out of his chest, Mason didn’t think it cared.

She raised the tissue and swiped a few tears then took a deep breath. “Bethany is my fifteen-year-old daughter. She’s been gone for two days now.” She looked at the ceiling. “Today’s Tuesday. I last saw her Sunday morning when I went to wake her up for church. She mumbled that she didn’t feel good so I let her sleep. When I got home, she wasn’t there. I called her cell phone and she didn’t answer.”

“Does she usually answer when you call?”

Lacey blinked and took another swipe at the tears. “Yes, usually. So, I waited awhile, then tried again. And kept trying. When I still didn’t hear anything, I called a few of her friends. The ones that I managed to get on the line didn’t know where she was. When she wasn’t home and hadn’t called by dark, I went looking for her. I couldn’t find her, so I started calling all of her friends again. Not one of them knew…” Her breath hitched and more tears leaked. She turned wet emerald-green eyes on him, pleading. “She’s not answering her cell phone and she missed school yesterday….” She lifted her hands and swallowed. “I went to the police and they’re treating her as a runaway. No one else will do anything and I just don’t know what else to do. Please help me, Mason.”

Lacey bit her lip and stared up at the man as if he were her last hope. He still wore his reddish-blond hair in a military buzz cut. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. Why had she even noticed that?

Focusing on his startling blue eyes, the same eyes she’d looked into every day for the past fifteen years, she decided that while she hated to come begging for his help, she’d do it for Bethany.

Where Bethany was concerned, the only thing that mattered was finding her. And if working with the man who’d broken her heart sixteen years ago meant she could bring her daughter home safely, she’d do it without a second thought.

What she hadn’t told Mason was that it wasn’t just Bethany that she needed help with. Since her daughter’s disappearance, she had felt watched. Like eyes followed her wherever she went. It was creepy and unsettling.

But nothing else had happened. So she’d started to wonder if it was all her imagination.

Bethany’s disappearance confirmed it wasn’t.

Even as she walked up the steps to Mason’s front porch, she had to resist looking back over her shoulder. She shuddered.

And just last night, she’d paced the house, praying, calling out to God and thought she heard someone at the door. Thinking it was Bethany, she’d flung it open and found a page from her old high school yearbook tacked to her door.

Confused, she’d pulled it down and stared out into the night. The hair on the nape of her neck had prickled, and a sense of foreboding had nearly overcome her.

One thing she knew for sure: someone was watching her. But who? Bethany’s possible kidnapper?

“Give me back my daughter!” she’d screamed. “Where is she?”

No one had answered.

But she’d felt the lingering eyes on her, watching from beyond, the malice, the—evil? Gulping, she’d shut the door and leaned against it, a hand to her throat. What was she going to do?

The answer had come to her—and not one she’d liked. She knew without a doubt that she had to go to Mason Stone. A man she’d vowed never to see again.

The man who’d broken her heart sixteen years ago.

Now looking into Mason’s expressionless face, she realized she might have made a mistake. She was surprised he’d let her in the door. How she found herself on his couch was anyone’s guess. But that didn’t matter. Her main focus was Bethany. She had to save her child.

No matter what their past contained. They’d simply have to deal with that later.

Mason stood, shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and paced to the other end of the room, then back. “Why should I help you, Lacey?”

The question, while asked in a voice so low she had to strain to hear it, seemed to echo off the walls of the house and ricochet inside her brain.

“Because…because…”

“Because of our past? Just because we once meant something to each other doesn’t mean anything. When you decided to cheat on me with my best friend, you made it clear what you thought of our relationship.”

Shock bolted Lacey to her feet. “How dare you? How dare you? I never cheated on you! But just like now, you wouldn’t stop throwing around accusations long enough to listen!” She snatched another tissue from the box and headed for the door. “Well, I’m not the scared, intimidated little girl I was at eighteen years old. So, never mind. I was wrong. I can’t believe how wrong I was.”

“I saw you—Daniel said…” Mason sucked in a deep breath and turned away from her as she stomped for the exit. His low “Stop. Don’t go yet” froze her in her tracks.

Without facing him, she asked, “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because you came to me for a reason,” he said, then sighed. “It seems the past isn’t as dead as I thought it was. I didn’t mean to…”

Keeping her voice frigid, she muttered, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is finding Bethany. Will you help me or not?”

Fingers wrapped around her upper arm and he swung her around to face him. “I don’t know yet. Sit back down. Please. Tell me about Bethany and why you think I can help you.”

Clamping down on the desire to hurtle her own accusations, she seated herself on the couch once more and took a deep breath. For Bethany, remember? You can do this for Bethany.

So, how much should she tell him?

All of it.

“I thought you could help me because being a marshal…isn’t that what you do for a living? Find people?”

He nodded. “Fugitives mostly.”

“But you have connections, you can—” She stopped, closed her eyes and sucked in a calming breath. She needed to keep her cool. “Bethany is a good kid.” Should she show him the picture? No, as soon as she did, he would know…. “She’s had an emotional and rocky couple of years as all teens do, but things had been getting better since we moved back here.”

He nodded, listening.

“Bethany wouldn’t just disappear like this. Not at this point in our lives. Not at all.” Her daughter might do a lot of things, but running away from home was definitely not one of them. “And not when I’ve just promised…” She bit her lip and looked away.

“Promised what?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Since I’ve promised to let her meet her father.”

His lips tightened and suspicion narrowed his eyes. “And who is her father?”

“He’s…” She sucked in a deep breath. She couldn’t just blurt it out. “I’ll get to that in a minute.” Oh Lord, I need your help and guidance on this. Right now, please.

Twisting the tissue between her fingers, she drew in another breath and looked him in the eye. “Some strange things have been happening lately. To Bethany. And I think they’re related to the car wreck that happened a couple of months ago.”

“What wreck?”

“It was during spring break back in April. Bethany’s best friend, Kayla Mahoney, was driving and she ran off the road, hit a tree and—” she pressed shaking fingers to her lips “—died.”

Mason’s sharply indrawn breath stabilized her. “Wait a minute, I think I heard about that.”

Lacey swiped a tear away. “Anyway, after the accident, Bethany was having trouble dealing with it. So, I looked into getting her some help. She started counseling with our pastor and seemed to be improving. And now this.” Through clenched teeth she gritted, “But no one seems to be interested in helping me!”

She fought the wave of tears as she looked at Mason.

He rubbed a hand over his face then caught her eye. “And you said weird things started happening after the wreck?”

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Bethany started acting very strange. She jumped at the slightest noise, refused to go out by herself, became my shadow if we went out together. It seemed she was constantly watching her back, but she adamantly refused to talk about it. She started losing weight, having nightmares. I thought she might be suffering from depression after everything that happened.”

“It would certainly be understandable.”

Lacey nodded. “Then someone tried to break into our house one night. Bethany came screaming into my room in the middle of the night that someone was climbing in her window. I called the police and they came out, but found nothing that indicated someone tried to get in. But there are bushes and mulch and—” She waved a hand. “It would be impossible to say if there was or wasn’t someone out there. The police blamed it on youthful pranks.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“What else?” he probed.

“About a week later, she said she thought someone had followed her home from school. We live near the high school, so she walks to and from school. Only in the last few weeks I’ve had to start taking her and picking her up. She’s gotten so frightened that she’s refused to go to school unless I drive her.”

Mason started pacing again. “Did you report it?”

“Yes.”

He frowned. “And that’s it?”

Exasperated, Lacey stood and paced to the fireplace then back to her seat. “Yes—and no.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I think there’s more to it.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know!” Lacey threw her hands up in frustration.

“But I think there was someone else with Kayla that night. I think her friend Georgia Boyles and—” she swallowed hard “—Bethany were in that car that night.”

Mason’s brows shot up. “Why do you say that?”

“Because Georgia’s mother came to my house to ask Bethany if Georgia had been with Kayla that night.”

“Why did she suspect that?”

“Because Georgia came home around three in morning, scratched up and with bruises she couldn’t explain. The police also found her cell phone in the car. When they returned it to her she said she’d left it in there earlier that day.”

“Could be.” Mason shrugged with his good shoulder. “Is that it?”

Frustrated at his apparent lack of concern, she clenched her fists. “Yes! That’s basically it! But come on, Mason, there’s got to be more. Bethany wouldn’t just disappear like this. I’m really afraid she’s in trouble, hurt…or worse.” Just saying the words nearly brought her to her knees. “And then, there was the thing taped to my door last night,” she whispered.

His eyes sharpened. “What thing?”

Rummaging in her purse, she pulled out the yearbook page. “This.”

He took it from her and his brows shot up as he studied it. “And it was taped to your door?”

She nodded. “I was up pacing and praying and just… I couldn’t sleep. Mom and Dad were upstairs sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb them so I went downstairs. I heard something at the door and thought it was Bethany. When I opened it, that was there.”

“This is a picture of us.”

“Along with twenty other students who were involved in building the homecoming float.”

“Still, you’re right. It’s kind of weird that someone would tape this to your door. I wish you hadn’t touched it. I doubt we’d be able to get any prints off of it now. We’ll take it in and see what the lab can find—after we convince someone to do some serious investigating.” He left for a minute and came back with the page in a brown paper bag.

“Might as well protect it as much as possible from here on out. They’ll need to take your prints to rule them out.”

“Fine. Whatever it takes. I just want to do something, have somebody doing something. Now.”

Mason studied her and sighed. “All right. I can see why you’re concerned, but I still want to know why you’ve come to me. Why ask me for help now after all these years with no contact?” He held up his hands, and for the first time since entering his house she thought she saw pain in his light blue eyes.

She had to tell him.

“Because, not only are you in that picture that was left on my door, Mason, you’re the man I promised Bethany she could meet. You’re her father.”

TWO

Mason’s knees nearly gave out. He fumbled for the chair behind him and sank onto it. Staring, he searched his mind for a response and came up blank.

A daughter? Him?

When she’d said she had a fifteen-year-old daughter, he’d immediately assumed his best friend from high school, Daniel Ackerman, was the father. But to hear her say that he was the father was almost more than he could process. In fact, the ringing in his ears made him wonder if he’d heard her right.

The expression on her face said he had.

“She’s my…” He couldn’t say the word.

Lacey blinked against the tears, but he noticed they just kept coming. He couldn’t even think to offer her another tissue. “Yeah, Mason. She’s your daughter.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?” he whispered. Did he even believe her? Searching her face, he could find no hint of deception or guile. Just desperation. And shame.

Then those emotions disappeared and anger made her voice hard as she ground out, “I tried to tell you sixteen years ago, but you wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say, remember?”

Mason clenched his fists as he remembered their final confrontation. Her tears, Daniel’s guilty flush. Mason’s unwillingness to look at her, much less listen to anything she had to say. Because she’d done what he’d expected all along. Betrayed him. Just like his mother had betrayed his father and her entire family.

“All right, look.” His brain struggled to adjust to all the information it had just been bombarded with. Life-changing information. “You said Bethany is missing. Let’s put the past aside and focus on her.”

A daughter, his mind echoed. He had a daughter.

Maybe.

If she was really his.

But what if she was?

He couldn’t help wondering what she looked like. What did she think about him? Why would Lacey tell him he was the father, if he wasn’t? Then again, this was the girl he’d caught in his best friend’s arms and she’d denied what was before his very eyes. He didn’t know what to believe, but if the possibility that their one-time intimate prom night encounter resulted in a child…

He had to know.

“I agree,” she said, interrupting the endless questions he suddenly had. Relief written clearly on her strained features, she also looked grateful. “Please.”

“But this issue is far from resolved.”

“I know,” she whispered and looked away.

Mason stood, rotated his healing shoulder, wincing at the pinch and slight stiffness, then realized his resolve to do whatever it took to get it back into tip-top shape before he returned to work just fell to second place on his priority list.

Finding his daughter had just careened its way to the top spot.

Running a hand through the hair he’d just washed before finding Lacey on his doorstep, he said, “All right, first things first. We need find out who saw her last. And if you think her disappearance has something to do with the car accident, then we need to revisit that, too.”

Lacey rubbed her nose. “I’m sure Georgia knows something. I’ve called her several times and she swears she doesn’t know where Bethany is, but I think she’s hiding something.” She clenched a fist and smacked her thigh. “I just can’t get her to tell me anything. And the police refuse—” She broke off again and Mason could tell she was having a hard time keeping it together. She was obviously exhausted.

He had a feeling a few sleepless nights were in his immediate future, too. “Grab your stuff. Let’s go talk to Georgia.”

Gathering her bag and the picture, she stood. “She’s probably in school.”

“Then let’s get her out of class.”

“What do we do after that?”

“Visit the police station and see what we can find out about the wreck.”

Stepping outside his home, headed for the car, Lacey did her best to shove the hurt down. Old memories threatened to overwhelm her. The fear of finding out she was pregnant. Mason’s rejection…

As Mason circled the car to open the passenger door, he paused.

The sudden tense set of his shoulders set off her internal alarms. “What is it?”

His arm reached across the windshield to pull something out from under the wiper blade. “This.” He held it by the very edge of one corner.

Stepping around him to look at the object in his hand, she gasped. “Another picture? Of us? That’s from the yearbook, too! What’s going on? How did someone know I’d be coming here?”

“Get in the car.”

Eyes peeled behind him for any movement or suspicious person, he opened the door and practically shoved her in. Then he bolted around to the driver’s side. He set the picture on the dash and got on the phone as he pulled out of the driveway.

Lacey listened to him bark orders and ask questions of an unidentified person as she watched the familiar scenery whiz by, but her brain didn’t process it. She was too busy begging God for her daughter’s life. And thanking Him that Mason had agreed to help her.

And he’d agreed before he’d found the picture on his car. Who was doing this? Was the person following them even now?

She looked in the side mirror, but saw no cars behind them. The fact didn’t comfort her. She had a feeling things had just gotten started with Bethany’s disappearance and whoever had left the pictures. The thought made her stomach roll.

He hung up and looked at her. “I’ve called Detective Catelyn Santino. She’s a homicide detective…” At her gasp, he broke off then rushed to reassure her. “No, it’s okay. She also investigates other stuff, too, depending on her caseload. She said she could help out with this one.”