Suspicion Of Guilt. Tracey V. Bateman
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“It looks like someone is trying to sabotage my efforts to make a nice home for these girls. What I can’t figure out is why.”
Detective Reece Corrigan scowled. “That’s what I’m here for, and I have to tell you-”
Denni raised her hand to stop him. “What possible motive could any of my girls have to sabotage their own home? Where would they go?”
Leaving him to mull that over, she marched to the top of the stairs. He followed her into the kitchen.
“That’s the one thing I can’t put my finger on. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but maybe the person we’re dealing with here doesn’t think along rational lines.”
“All my girls are rational,” Denni snapped.
His amusement was more than apparent in the upward curve of his lips. “Then I guess they must take after you,” he drawled.
The Mahoney Sisters: Fighting for justice and love.
REASONABLE DOUBT
SUSPICION OF GUILT
BETRAYAL OF TRUST
TRACEY V. BATEMAN
lives in Missouri with her husband and their four children. She writes full-time and is active in various roles in her home church. She has won several awards for her writing, and credits God’s grace and a limited number of entries for each win. To relax, she enjoys long talks with her husband, reading and music and hanging out with her kids, who can finally enjoy movies she likes. Tracey loves to encourage everyone to dream big. She believes she is living proof that, with God, nothing is impossible.
Suspicion of Guilt
Tracey V. Bateman
MILLS & BOON
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You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.
—Psalms 139:15–16
This book is dedicated to my precious friend Nancy Scott, who believes in the mandate for older (though she is not old) women to teach the younger women. God used you to teach me that I was somebody in His eyes. Thank you for sharing the theme scripture of this book with me when I was a teenager.
Special thanks to my faithful critique partners as always—especially Chris Lynxwiler and Pamela Griffin; both of you stayed by your computers to get chapters from me to critique on the spur of the moment so that I wouldn’t miss my deadline. Only God could have given me such loyal friends.
Also, thanks to my mother, Frances Devine, and to my mother-in-law, Vivian Bateman. Thank you both for believing in my dreams enough to sacrifice your time so that I can put mine to the best use during the days of deadline mania. May God bless you both abundantly above all you could ever ask or think.
Thank you, Jesus. It’s all about You.
Dear Reader,
Reece and Denni came from very different backgrounds, but both had to learn that they were crafted by design. Their lives were not just lucky or unlucky coincidences, but rather God, sticking to the plan. His plan.
It is my prayer that as you read through this story, God whispered, “Do you know how excited I was when you were being formed inside of your mother? From the moment of your conception, I dreamed about the day you would learn your first Bible verse; sing ‘Jesus Loves Me, This I Know’ the day you would hold your first wiggling worm in your chubby little fingers, or chase a beautiful butterfly; the first time you would fold your hands and say a prayer all by yourself; the day you would let Jesus become your Lord.”
Or if you’ve never taken that step, God has waited, in anticipation, just for you to come to that decision as Reece did.
I welcome e-mail from my readers at [email protected] or visit my Web site, www.traceybateman.com.
May God bless you as you live, move and have your being in Him.
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Prologue
The night swirled around her. Black, stabbing darkness conjured terrible shadows from childhood nightmares. Leaves hovered like a vampire’s cape, suffocating. Fear gripped her. Branches tossed in the breeze—razor-sharp fingers ready to slice her to shreds.
Hurry, hurry, hurry.
A low half growl, half whine came from the Doberman behind the fence next door. She jerked her head at the sound, heart pounding in her ears like the thrum of a thousand drums.
Shh. “It’s okay,” she whispered. Don’t give me away. I’m so close to accomplishing my goal. The dog obeyed and sat—watching but silent.
Relief flooded her as she turned back to her task. Denni Mahoney, with all of her sweetness and light…
Shards of rage pierced her heart at the thought of Denni getting what she wanted. She didn’t deserve it. A mastermind of deception. Denni had fooled them all.
Everyone but me. The thought made her smile with grim determination.
With a shaky hand, she reached for the outside faucet. Hesitated. One twist and the broken pipe would send water rushing inside the house instead of flowing to the ground. The basement would flood.
She grasped the faucet tightly and gave it a quick turn.
Water spewed.
The Doberman barked.