Child of Mine , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Beverly Lewis

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191 pages

English

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From Bestselling Authors David & Beverly Lewis Flight instructor Jack Livingston has been raising his eight-year-old adopted niece, Natalie, since the accident that took her parents' lives. When he travels, Natalie is tenderly cared for by her Amish nanny, Laura Mast, who loves the little girl as her own. Eight excruciating years ago, Kelly Maines's baby was kidnapped. Determined to find her child, Kelly has tirelessly pursued every lead to its bitter end. And now, with the clock ticking, one last clue from a private investigator ignites a tiny flame of hope: Just a few miles away lives a young girl who matches the profile. Can this be, at long last, Kelly's beloved daughter?

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	03 juin 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441264541
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0461€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

© 2014 by Beverly M. Lewis, Inc.
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www . bakerpublishinggroup . com
Ebook edition created 2014
Ebook corrections 09.26.2014
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4412-6454-1
Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture quotations identified as TLB are from The Living Bible, copyright © 1971. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Art direction by Paul Higdon
To our dear Shari Bieber
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
Authors’ Note
About the Authors
Other Books by David and Beverly Lewis
Back Ads
Back Cover
Chapter 1

K elly Maines sat nervously on a bench at the edge of the playground, wearing dark aviators and pretending to be obsessed with her cell phone. Last night she’d slept in an unfamiliar bed in a ratty hotel, and this morning she’d dressed in a blond wig and a stylish knit maternity dress. Burgundy was not a good color for Kelly, but it was an important color for today.
Ten yards away eight-year-old Sydney Moore was full of joie de vivre. The petite girl wore a set of red hairpins to match her top and designer blue jeans. She ricocheted about the playground with a dozen other squealing kids—sliding and swinging, scaling the plastic boulder, and teetering on the totter.
She’s beautiful, thought Kelly, observing the exuberant little brunette. From the very minute Sydney had arrived at the park, Kelly had been studying her intently. She noted the way the child sometimes clomped about after zipping down the slide, the charming way she ran with hands outstretched, overly cautious, how she jumped like a jumping bean on the padded wood chips, giggling all the while. Sydney’s brown hair glistened in the sunlight, complemented by the tanned hue of her skin and heightened further by her expressive brown eyes. And those freckles, the adorable spots around her cheeks and forehead.
Like mine at that age, Kelly mused.
Despite the gloomy weather report, it was a glorious spring afternoon in Malibu, California, with sunlight flickering through filmy clouds. The playground at the edge of the bluff overlooking Zuma Beach, not far from Sydney’s Juan Cabrillo Elementary School, was lined with lush California trees—exotic for a lifelong Ohioan—and the salty air felt fresh. The remaining landscape looked dry and scrubby, unredeemed by a scattering of blue and yellow wild flowers near the park’s perimeter.
Kelly checked her phone: four-twenty. According to Ernie’s reports, Sydney’s adoptive mother ruled by a strict routine, rarely allowing her daughter more than thirty minutes at any one location. Since they’d already been here for nearly twenty, Kelly figured that time was running out.
She anticipated her first move, shivering as visions of what could go wrong flipped through her imagination like a row of dominoes. It had been nearly four weeks since her last encounter, a mere month, though long enough to feel rusty.
Deborah Moore, a round-faced blonde, looked nothing like Sydney. She wore strappy sandals and a flowery blue sundress and was sitting on the park bench a few yards from Kelly, focused on her own cell phone. Born to the upper crust, Deborah Sills had married Jeffrey Moore, a young man destined to join his father, William, who headed up a billion-dollar exporting firm out of Los Angeles. A family of three, they employed a full-time staff of five for their eight-million-dollar Malibu Beach estate overlooking Zuma Beach and the ocean beyond.
Due to their exorbitant wealth, Deborah and Sydney never left their home without the security services of Bruce Stiles, a muscle-bound thug in tight-fitting jeans, a purple silk shirt, and a leather jacket. Hidden behind his own dark designer sunglasses, he was presently sitting across the park pretending disinterest, though he couldn’t have been more obvious. Perhaps that was his intention. Intimidation. If so, it was working.
Feigning difficulty, Kelly pushed herself up with one arm, supporting her stomach with the other. She headed to Deborah’s bench, shaded by a palm tree, and grabbed the back of the wooden slats, exhaling with an exaggerated sigh. “Whew, it’s warm in the sun.”
Deborah barely noticed her.
“Mind if I share the bench?” Kelly asked, sitting down.
Deborah flashed an obliging smile while Kelly arched her face into the sunlight. Should she say something more? Already, Kelly felt Bruce’s eyes on her, decoding her mannerisms and scrutinizing her behavior for tells.
A few minutes passed before Deborah looked her way and then did a double take. “I love that color.”
Kelly smiled. I know you do . She smoothed her skirt. “Me too.”
“Are you close to your due date?”
“Any moment.” Kelly grimaced suddenly, touching her rounded belly.
Deborah slipped her phone into her purse and studied Kelly with newfound interest.
Gotcha, Kelly thought.
She glanced toward Sydney across the playground. “Was it difficult for you?”
Deborah shrugged, apparently unwilling to admit she’d never given birth.
“The way I feel today,” Kelly replied, “this might be my first and my last.”
Deborah only smiled, and for the next few minutes they talked about raising babies. All the while, Kelly pretended not to notice Bruce’s edging closer and closer. If she gave any hint of recognizing his function in Deborah’s life, he’d surely become even more suspicious of her.
Despite her rising anxiety, Kelly proceeded with her plan, skillfully leading Deborah through her carefully prepared trap door: Kelly’s one-time supposed profession as a magician’s assistant. As hokey as that might have seemed, it always worked.
Perhaps Kelly resembled most people’s image of a magician’s assistant. Or maybe the juxtaposition of a very pregnant woman as a once skimpily clad assistant was too bizarre not to be believed.
“What was that like?” Deborah asked, clearly amused.
“Actually, I got tired of being sawed in half.”
Deborah laughed.
“At least I learned some magic myself,” Kelly replied. “Card tricks, how to make quarters disappear—you know, that sort of thing.”
When Deborah’s eyebrows rose, Kelly made a show of digging through her purse.
“Wait. I have one,” Deborah said, reaching into her own purse, her eyes rapt with anticipation. She picked out a quarter and gave it to Kelly.
Bruce’s lips froze in a scowl. He stepped a few yards closer. Any nearer and he would be breathing down their collective necks. Kelly could imagine his wolflike eyes behind the shades, glaring at her, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.
Kelly maneuvered the quarter between her fingers, back and forth, back and forth—a trick that had taken six months to learn. Then . . . voila! She promptly made it disappear. She held up her hands, twisting them in the sun, showing her palms and the back of her hand.
Deborah’s eyes grew wider. “Nice.”
Next, Kelly reached behind Deborah’s ear and produced the quarter—to her amazement. Kelly offered the coin to Deborah, who refused. “My little girl would love this trick.”
Deborah called to her daughter, standing in the shadow of the boulder, sharing conspiratorial whispers with her friends.
“Coming, Mom!”
By now, Bruce had dropped all pretense and was standing two feet away. He leaned over and whispered in Deborah’s ear, undoubtedly concerned about the strange woman.
Kelly noticed his muscular biceps as they strained against his leather jacket and could even smell his musky alpha-male cologne from where she sat. She could see a slight bulge under his arm. Apparently Ernie was right—Bruce never left home without his Glock.
Seemingly annoyed, Deborah waved him off. Reluctantly, Bruce took a few steps back but continued his iron stare in Kelly’s direction.
Deborah rolled her eyes and explained quietly. “That’s our bodyguard, Bruce—such a pain. But my husband insists.”
Kelly pretended to observe Bruce for the first time, giving him the once-over. “I don’t blame your husband,” she whispered back. “It’s a dangerous world.”
“True, that,” Deborah agreed.
Meanwhile, little Sydney remained sidetracked, apparently unable to separate from her friends.
“We’re going home, sweetie,” Deborah called again, and Kelly held her breath, frustrated. Had she come so close only to miss her chance?
After a few quick exchanges, Sydney finally came running over. “Sorry, Mom! Taylor had a big secret.”
Kelly couldn’t help but smile, remembering her own happy childhood.
“You’ve got to see this magic trick,” Deborah said, nod