Ransomed Dreams Read online

  PRAISE FOR RANSOMED DREAMS

  “Ransomed Dreams is fast-moving and suspenseful. The author has researched her facts carefully and accurately describes the difficulties that special agents from two different federal agencies face when fate brings them together in an investigation.”

  JACK BRANSON, retired federal agent

  “Amy Wallace weaves an intriguing tale in Ransomed Dreams—a most promising debut.”

  CRESTON MAPES, author of Dark Star and Full Tilt

  “Grab a hanky with one hand and buckle a seat belt with the other when a spirit-wounded FBI agent and a woman recovering from devastating loss pair up to protect children from a vengeful killer. With main characters you’d love to call your friends and villains you’d love to throttle, Ransomed Dreams delivers an absorbing read from start to finish.”

  JILL ELIZABETH NELSON, author of the

  To Catch a Thief romantic suspense series

  “Amy Wallace is a new talent to watch in romantic suspense.”

  ELIZABETH WHITE, author of Fireworks

  “Ransomed Dreams is shaped by refreshing storytelling and unique plot twists.”

  CINDY WOODSMALL, author of When the Heart Cries

  “Steeped in police intrigue and rich characters, Ransomed Dreams entertains, educates, and captivates. Amy Wallace is a fresh, vibrant voice in the Christian market.”

  MARK MYNHEIR, homicide detective and author of The Void

  “Amy Wallace is a sparkling new voice in romantic suspense. Ransomed Dreams had me hooked from the start and didn’t let go until the deeply satisfying ending.”

  KRISTIN BILLERBECK, author of What a Girl Wants

  “Amy Wallace handles this difficult story with grace and tenderness—but let’s not forget the suspense element that keeps the pages turning. And let’s also not forget the heart of the book. Forgiveness is not a tacked-on message but lived out in the lives of these characters.”

  TRICIA GOYER, award-winning author of Night Song

  and Arms of Deliverance

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  To my amazing family.

  Without your love, encouragement, cleaning skills,

  and prayer support, this book would have remained

  simply an entertaining dream.

  To Jack and Mary, my favorite federal agent family

  Everything good about Steven, Gracie, Clint, and Sara

  is because of you two.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Publishing a book has a lot in common with birthing a baby—from conception onward it’s a team effort with God and an amazing cast of characters. Writing the Defenders of Hope series also had a lot in common with my last delivery of a beautiful eleven-pound-eight-ounce baby girl: work, tears, and incredible rejoicing! And lots of people to thank who kept me sane in the process.

  A heaping helping of thanks goes to my longsuffering family who have washed, cooked, cleaned, inspired, prayed, encouraged, and loved me anyway You gave all that so I could do one of the things I know, without a doubt, God created me to do. Thank you, David, for launching my career with your proverbial boot on my backside, which lovingly moved me from typing an action-packed dream all the way to a novel I’m proud to hold in my hands.

  Thanks to my precious princesses too. Elizabeth, my Sweet Song; Hannah, my Musical Laughter; and Sarah, my Sunshine: You make me want to be a better person. To be like you as you grow to be like Jesus. I love you all—to infinity and beyond.

  Other awesome characters who have helped me birth this book include two of the most amazing critique partners known to man. Heartfelt thanks go to my best friend, Jen Keithley who makes me throw well-aimed rocks at my fictional people to produce a satisfying story rife with conflict and class, sans melodrama. She even allows me to clean her floor when I need a mental break and a good laugh. Then there’s Meg Moseley whose careful eye and flair for detail made my writing look far better than I ever imagined possible. Thanks, you two; I’m forever grateful.

  Mom, Dad, Josh, Heidi, Zack, and the Wallace clan—thanks for keeping me grounded and giving me roots.

  Julee Schwarzburg, you are an awesome editor and first-class miracle worker. Thanks for taking a chance on the first thing I’d ever written and transforming it into a story that makes me smile and cry at the same time.

  A world of thanks goes to the entire team at Multnomah. Being a Multnomah author was my brass ring from the first fiction word I typed, so I thank you all for being a part of making dreams come true.

  Many thanks to my Momsloop for your prayers, encouragement, and being a safe place to experience biblical correction and truth spoken in love. What an incredible group of ladies you are! Laurie, Sally, Kirstin, and Heather—you are heart-chocolate to me, my friends.

  Shawn and Nathan, thank you for teaching me what whole, full, and healthy looks like. And for showing me how to talk—and listen—to our heavenly Daddy, teddy bear in hand.

  Without the over-the-top, wonderful people who make up ACFW, I never would have learned the nuts, bolts, and heart of good writing. I’m so glad I’m part of the family.

  There’s never been a finer, more beautiful bunch of wordsmiths than The Threshing Floor ladies: Jen, Mary, and Staci. Thank you for teaching me to bleed into my work by sharing my heart, holding up my hands when I am weary, and for showing me how to thank God for the wild ride of writing life. I’m so glad I get to share the roller coaster with you.

  My Writers of Remarkable Design group is the best bunch of “non-normals” to hang out with on Tuesday nights. Thanks for being you and for being a vital part of my life. Lindi, Cindy, and Vicki—your friendships are gold. I’m glad we’re a team.

  Thank you, Les, for believing in The Journey and helping take it all the way to a truly Ransomed Dream.

  Beth White, Deb Raney Jeanne Leach, Tom Chaney, Carolyn Curtis, and Lori Mote—you all were among the first to mentor and encourage me to walk this writing journey one step at a time. What great footsteps you’ve left for me to follow as we together follow Christ.

  Forensics may not be an In Touch CSI (Charles Stanley Institute) thing, but having a passion for God and compassion for people certainly is. Thank you for your prayers and for allowing our family to be part of an incredible ministry.

  I’m privileged to be a part of First Baptist Atlanta, especially our awesome student ministry. Thanks to Dr. Stanley and the great people who make up our small part of the Body of Christ. You’ve taught, equipped, and challenged me well. You’ve also been and continue to be a place I’m glad to call home.

  Finally, to the One who
has loved me with an everlasting love before time began and who continues to be my dream come true—thanks, Daddy. It’s all because of You.

  Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.

  I have called you by name; you are mine.

  When you go through deep waters, I will be with you.

  ISAIAH 43:1-2, NLT

  PROLOGUE

  Gracie’s night overflowed with promise.

  Uncharacteristic Georgia snow glistened in the front yard, and a cozy fire warmed her living room. She hummed “Silent Night,” even though the memory of Christmas grew to the week-old mark. Cider sloshed in her hands as she dodged two-year-old Joshua to find her corner of the couch.

  “Mommy me like da fire truck.” Joshua circled the coffee table, making siren noises, as Jake, their golden retriever, beat a quick retreat to his new bed in the corner.

  “Come here, little man.” Mark flopped down on the floor and tickled the toy away from Joshua.

  Gracie smiled at the scene near her feet and caught Mark looking her over. He winked. They’d soon enjoy a private celebration of their seventh anniversary, complete with chocolate, a bubble bath, and massages—after the kiddos were tucked in bed at their grandparents’ house a short drive away.

  Christmas tree lights twinkled, and candles filled the air with the aromas of vanilla and peppermint. Gracie listened for the oven’s beep, indicating her famous chocolate pound cake was finished, but heard nothing except Jake’s tail thumping against his pallet.

  Elizabeth snuggled up with a book and her pink blanket in the rocking chair across the room. Gracie smiled. “You going to join us, sweetie?”

  Her blond curls bounced as she hurried past her daddy’s extended hand. Elizabeth preferred books to tickles any day “I readin’ the book you gaved me.” She hopped into Gracie’s lap. “See the princess? I wanna be like her when I growed up.”

  “You already are a princess.” Mark rose to his knees and pretended to bow. Elizabeth rewarded him with little giggles before she disappeared into the book again.

  Gracie set her empty mug down and poked at Mark’s long, muscular legs with her toes. Tonight couldn’t come soon enough.

  “Penny for your thoughts, beautiful.” He slipped up on the couch and drew her close.

  “It’ll cost you more than that.”

  “How ’bout a kiss or two?”

  Mark’s kisses would buy him anything he wanted. It was a wonder they didn’t have more than two children. “I’ll tell you, and then we’ve got to run. Kisses come later.” Heat filled her cheeks at the memory of their almost seven years. Guess God knew two little ones were about all she could manage and retain some semblance of sanity “I don’t want to keep my parents waiting, but we can hurry home after.”

  “No kisses first?” Mark stuck out his bottom lip. His blond, blue-eyed, six-foot frame shrank into the back of the couch with arms folded over his chest. He looked adorable with a pout.

  “Don’t start, mister. I’ll collect my payment later.”

  His little-boy expression slid into a lazy grin. He planted a kiss on her forehead. “We’d better hustle then.”

  “You gonna bing da chock-it, Mommy?” Joshua zoomed his fire truck across the table again.

  The cake.

  She hightailed it into the kitchen. The oven remained cold and dark. No aroma of baking cake. “I don’t believe it. I forgot to turn on the oven.”

  “No chocolate?” Elizabeth hugged her leg. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Elizabeth’s right.” Mark picked up their pint-sized princess and tickled her tummy “We’ll survive this one New Year’s Eve without the cake.”

  “Hode me too, Daddy.” Joshua’s lobster claw hands snapping open and shut, begging to be picked up, made Gracie smile.

  She checked the creamy brown batter and turned on the oven. “I really don’t want to waste all this good chocolate. Besides, it’s tradition. So why don’t you all head out, and I’ll bring the cake in time for dessert.” She rubbed Jake’s neck as he nudged closer to what he must have hoped would be dinner.

  “I’d rather go without the cake than have you miss dinner.”

  Elizabeth and Joshua nodded.

  “I’ll just straighten up around here a little and come over as soon as the oven beeps.” Gracie tickled Elizabeth’s side. “It won’t be too long.”

  Mark hoisted their two kiddos higher on his hips. “Can we survive without Mommy for a few short minutes, my little man and little princess?”

  They giggled.

  “I’ll make sure everything is ready for when we get home.” Gracie wiggled her eyebrows.

  That made Mark haul the kids out of the kitchen and toward the front door. He wrapped two squirming, laughing children into coats and hats as Jake danced around them, barking.

  She adjusted the greenery on the banister. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Mark hustled Elizabeth and Joshua through the kitchen again and out the door to the garage. He turned back toward her. “I’m thinking about a long night in front of the fire.”

  She walked into his arms and adjusted his scarf. “You are the most wonderful husband in all the world, Mark Lang. I love you—to infinity and beyond.”

  “Buzz Lightyear you are not, and I’m glad.” He wrapped his strong hands around hers and drew her close. When he placed a kiss on each one, she couldn’t stop the shiver that trailed up her spine.

  Gracie stepped back. “But you’d better go before I decide not to let you out of my sight.”

  “Come with us then. Turn off the oven and forget the cake.”

  “Daddy help peese!” Joshua’s voice came through the open door.

  Gracie tilted her head to the side and put her hands on her hips.

  Mark held up his palms in surrender. “I know. I know. I’m going and I’ll be careful. Don’t be too long, okay? I love you.”

  She tipped her chin up and closed her eyes. His lips met hers and deepened the kiss while his arms lifted her off the ground.

  With a playful nudge, she pulled back. “Soon.”

  He set her down, slow and steady. His lingering smile sent a silent promise that warmed her from the inside out.

  She couldn’t help but giggle when he turned up his jacket collar and winked.

  She tossed him the keys and then flipped on the outside light as he buckled two little ones into their old blue minivan and closed the door. “Nice view,” she whispered.

  Mark backed out of their driveway and into the white-dusted road.

  One last wave and he was gone.

  Gracie put books and all manner of toys back under the tree. They’d clean up later. Tonight was for fun. And romance.

  Then she noticed a little pink teddy bear blanket flopping over the edge of Elizabeth’s tiny rocking chair. Elizabeth wouldn’t sleep without it.

  The grandfather clock in the foyer showed that only three minutes had passed.

  “If I know my girl, she’s probably asking for it now.” Gracie smiled. If she hurried, she’d catch up to Mark’s careful un-Atlanta-like driving. Cake or not, she’d rather be with her family.

  Then it hit her. She could have her cake and her family too.

  She turned off the oven, loaded the still-cold cake into a carrier, and left Jake settled down for a long winter’s nap. She hustled into Mark’s restored Mustang—pink bear blanket and yummy chocolate in tow.

  Within ten minutes, she spotted their van not too far off Highway 316. A few more turns and she’d have to slow down. The country landscape in the dark with snow falling wasn’t a good place to make up time.

  Suddenly a fast-moving black truck flashed its brights.

  Then everything blurred. Screeching tires. Crunching metal. The truck plowed into the front of their minivan and sent it spinning off the road.

  A scream filled the Mustang.

  She slammed the brakes and swerved as the black monster barreled toward her. Look! Her mind willed her head to turn away from where the van h
ad disappeared. She caught sight of a young man’s wild eyes as the truck sped past.

  She pulled over to the shoulder and kicked open the door. As she ran to the edge of the road, her pulse hammered against her temples. The van’s engine made the solitary noise at the bottom of a long, steep hill.

  “Mark! My babies!”

  Police. Ambulance. Phone.

  She ran back to the car and fumbled through her purse. Phone shaking in her frozen hands, she called for help.

  “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

  “Car accident. My family is trapped at the bottom of a hill. Off Highway 316. Past Harbins Road. I need to go help them.”

  “Ma’am, if you could stay on the line—”

  She dropped the phone and ran back to the tire-streaked pavement where the van had disappeared. “Oh, Lord, please let them get here fast.”

  She fell to the ground and started to slide down into the ravine. Cold seeped into her coat as she pushed heavy branches out of her path, slowing the descent.

  Minutes later, sirens split her desperate prayers. The once-quiet scene filled with red and blue lights, voices yelling. Police cars and fire trucks. Men in uniform pulling her back up to the road. Back to Mark’s car. Away from her family.

  “Ma’am.”

  Gracie spun around at the slight touch to her elbow.

  “Did you see the accident?” An older police officer stood with his notepad and pen motioning toward the hill where firefighters swarmed.

  “Yes, they’re my …”

  “Can you describe in as much detail as possible what you saw?”

  Gracie blinked and turned back to the hill. “My husband and two kids are down there. Are they going to be okay? Please tell me they’re going to be okay.”

  “That’s your family?” The officer’s pen froze. He surveyed the scene and shrugged his black coat closer to his neck. “They’re doing all they can, ma’am. We’ll hear something soon.”