Deception
DECEPTION
Lillian Duncan
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
DECEPTION
COPYRIGHT 2011 by LILLIAN DUNCAN
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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Contact Information: [email protected]
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version
(R),
NIV
(R),
Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Cover Art by
Kim Mendoza
Harbourlight Books, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC
www.pelicanbookgroup.com
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Harbourlight Books sail and mast logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC
Publishing History
First Harbourlight Edition, 2011
Print Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-147-2
Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-146-5
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To Ronny, I couldn't do it without you! Your support and encouragement keep me writing.
To Jay, you made a difference.
Praise for Lillian Duncan
Pursued
This is one of the best Christian fiction books I've read - definitely the best suspense/drama book I've read in the Christian genre. Lillian Duncan is a good writer, and her strong character is evident throughout the book. ~
Chad Young,
author of
Authenticity: Real Faith in a Phony, Superficial World
Duncan’s story was deliciously romantic and breathtakingly paced. Her characters were wonderfully portrayed and I was drawn into Reggie’s plight from the moment an ex-English teacher businessman drops her firm over a misplaced word. Those readers who enjoy some great kissing in between bullets and prayers will enjoy
Pursued
. ~
Lisa Lickel,
co-author of
A Summer in Oakville
1
Cleveland, Ohio
Patti Jakowski sat alone at her deck watching the drizzle from the leaky roof form an ever growing puddle on her picnic table. Taking another sip of the now cold coffee, she frowned. It would be the third time she’d contacted the roofers. She would never let herself be talked into a major house renovation from a door-to-door salesman again.
Great way to start summer vacation. Sitting and watching the rain.
The ringing of the phone brought her to her feet, and she ran into the kitchen. The scent of baking cinnamon rolls reminded her to check the oven after the call. "Hello.”
"Me want my aunt." It was a young girl. By the sound of her voice, maybe three, or four.
"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. You must have dialed the wrong number. Hang up and try again. OK, sweetie?" instructed Patti, slipping into her teacher voice.
"I need my aunt. Mommy’s not here," said the little girl. “I ‘sposed to call my aunt. I want my mommy.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Patti didn’t like the sound of that. Surely, her parents hadn’t left this little girl alone. "You're mommy's not home with you?" Concern edged into her voice.
"Just me. Can’t find Mommy. Where's Mommy?" The little girl’s voice trembled.
"I don't know, sweetie. How old are you?” Patti asked, while reaching for the pad and pen by the phone.
“I’m four.” The little girl’s voice was tinged with pride at the announcement.
"That’s very good. What's your name?"
"I not ‘spose to tell strangers." It came out more like a wail than words.
"That's a good girl. You're right, you shouldn’t tell strangers your name, but I’m not a stranger. You called me, remember?”
There was a pause as the little girl considered this new information. “Sabina.”
“Do you mean Sabrina?”
“Yeah, Sabina.”
Patti smiled. She’d had a cat named Sabrina when she was young. Patti and her twin had played house with that silly animal for hours on end.
Her sister always said she would name her first daughter after...
Patti’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be. Patti shook the thought away. This Sabrina had nothing to do with Patti’s twin. It was a coincidence, nothing more. There were lots of little girls with the name. A little voice told her there was no such thing as coincidences. Patti ignored the little voice. “That’s a pretty name, Sabrina. What’s your mommy’s name?”
“Mommy.”
Patti resisted the urge to sigh, glad she worked with high school students instead of younger children. “Does she have another name, Sabrina?”
“No, just Mommy.”
Patti looked up at the ceiling. This wasn’t going anywhere. The authorities needed to get to this little girl’s house. Why hadn’t she taken the time to get the caller ID on her phone set up?
“Can you tell me your aunt's name?”
"I forget." The girl’s whimpers turned into sobs.
"That's OK, Sabrina. Don’t cry. You're being very brave. What I want you to do is to hang up and wait by the phone until it rings. Then, make sure you pick it up, OK? It will be me calling you back."
"Otay," the little voice said.
Patti waited to hear the disconnection but nothing happened.
"Sabrina, hang up the phone. I promise to call you back."
"Otay."
This time Patti heard the disconnection. She hung up the phone, and then immediately picked it up and dialed *67.
A mechanical voice came on. “I’m sorry the number has been blocked.”
“Oh, perfect,” Patti mumbled. Her idea hadn’t been all that great. She flopped on a kitchen chair. What was she supposed to do? She had to help this little girl.
She jumped back up as a whiff of cinnamon scented the air. Opening the oven, she pulled out the cookie sheet, found a spatula and transferred the rolls onto a plate. Another idea popped into her head. She picked up the phone and hit 0.
“Operator. How can I help you?”
Patti explained the situation and was put on hold. She ran fingers through her hair in an attempt to comb it. A haircut was one of the first things on her to-do list now that school was over for the summer.
The operator came back on after several minutes. “We’d like your permission to access your phone records to find out where the little girl called from. Just a reminder, this call is being recorded.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” The operator hung up.
Patti squeezed vanilla icing out of the plastic container and munched on slightly burnt cinnamon rolls.
Just because her name was Sabrina didn’t mean she had anything to do with Jamie.
Patti hadn’t heard from her twin in years. Her foot tapped against the chair rail.
The phone rang again.
“Hello.”
“Who dis?”
Relief flooded Patti’s soul as she heard Sabrina’s little voice. “This is Patti.”
"Aunt Patti. I called you. You didn’t call me back. You promised," Sabrina whined.
“I know I did, Sabrina, but my phone wouldn’t work. I’m not your aunt, but I’m going to find her for you.”
“But you Aunt Patti. Mommy told me to call you.”
Patti felt a chill at the little girl’s certainty. It couldn’t be…could it?
“Where do you live, sweetie?”
“Me live at home. Where you live?”
“I live in Cleveland, Sabrina. What’s the name of your city?” Patti didn’t know how to help without knowing where the girl was calling from.
“I gotta go potty. Bye.”
“Wait, don’t hang...” Patti groaned when she heard the click.
2
After her third cup of coffee, Patti sat at her kitchen table tapping her fingers on the green tile that didn’t match the rest of her blue kitchen.
The operator had discovered the source of the call and assured Patti the police were on their way to the little girl’s house.
Patti hoped Sabrina’s mom would be there when the police arrived, and the problem would be solved.
“Of all the days to rain,” she muttered as she stared out the window. Her tradition of using the first day of summer vacation to plant flowers wouldn’t be happening that day—unless she wanted to crawl around in knee-deep mud.
Sighing, she went to the sink to rinse out the coffee cup. She wandered through the house trying to find something to keep her mind off Sabrina.
Twenty minutes later, the phone rang.
"Is this Patti Jakowski?"
"Who’s this?" she asked.
"I’m Sergeant Carter Caldwell with the Palm Beach Police Department in Florida. Are you the person who called about the young child being left alone?"
"I hope everything turned out all right. Did you find Sabrina?"
A moment’s hesitation made Patti’s heart drop.
"We did, but we’re confused."
Patti’s stomach clenched in a knot. “About what?”
“Are you sure you’re not her aunt?”
“Of course, I’m sure.” The knot tightened. "I would know if she was my niece.”
Another long pause.
"Here's the thing. She wasn't dialing your number by mistake. It was programmed into the cell phone. Sabrina’s mother taught her to speed dial your number. The house belongs to a..."
"Jamie Jakowski." Patti finished his sentence. Her legs shook, and she reached for the closest chair. She plopped down on the seat.
I should have known. What has Jamie gotten herself into, now?
"So you do know them?" asked Sergeant Caldwell.
"Jamie’s my sister, but I didn't know anything about Sabrina. It’s been a long time since Jamie and I talked. Last I knew she lived in New York City, not Florida. And I didn’t know she had a daughter." The flush of shame crept up her cheeks. Bad enough having to admit she didn’t speak with her sister, but to admit she didn’t know she had a niece was worse.
"Well, she’s living here, now.”
Fury flowed through her. How could her sister leave her child alone like that? Anything could have happened. “So Sabrina was alone.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Not exactly.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Sabrina was confused when she called you. When she went to bed her mom was at home, but when she woke up she wasn’t in her bedroom or the house. She panicked and called you, but the nanny was in the house the whole time.”
“A nanny?”
How could her sister afford a nanny? The last time she’d seen Jamie she’d been sharing an apartment with roaches.
“The nanny’s confused, too. Not sure why Jamie disappeared in the middle of the night. She was scheduled to leave today on a business trip, so she figured your sister couldn’t sleep and left early.”
Now that was the Jamie she knew. Left without saying goodbye to anyone, and scaring her daughter half-to-death. Apparently, her twin hadn’t grown up at all.
“The nanny says they live a quiet life.”
“A quiet life? That doesn’t sound like Jamie.” Anger bubbled up.
Calm down
. Patti tapped her fingers on the telephone and closed her eyes.
Jamie had a child and hadn’t told her. That wasn’t the kind of news someone forgot to mention. So Jamie must have decided their relationship was over, kaput. Forever.