“I’m a third-generation prosecutor, Marshall. It’s in my blood.” She thought of all her classmates who had gone into white shoe firms. For them, everything was about getting something bigger—the bigger house, the bigger car, the bigger salary. “I think God put me here to make the world less dangerous. I wouldn’t be nearly as much use someplace else.”
When Marshall still looked doubtful, she added, “Besides, I’m actually safer at work. Anybody who wanted to get to me at my office would have to get past a metal detector, a security gate, and a bunch of law enforcement personnel.”
Instead of answering, Marshall pulled her into an awkward hug over the parking brake. Feeling his strong arms around her, Allison finally let herself begin to tremble while he ran a soothing hand over her hair.
After several moments of silence, he said, “I know how important your work is to you. But I want you to promise me that you will take care of yourself. Of our baby. Just once, think of putting yourself first.”
“I promise.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “The service will start soon. We should go in.”
Outside the church, pens had been set up on each side of the main door. A local farmer always brought in newborn animals for the Christmas Eve service. This year it was a lamb and two calves, one so young it could barely stand on shaky legs.
As she looked at them, Allison rubbed her belly. Next year she would be holding a baby in her arms. Two years from now, they would have a toddler like the ones gazing raptly through the bars at the baby animals.
Once they were seated in a pew, Marshall put his arm around her shoulders. Allison closed her eyes and leaned into his warmth. She didn’t hear much of the sermon. Instead, she was making a short list of suspects who might be threatening her.
She had prosecuted dozens of people. Why would one of them snap now? Did that mean it was someone she had recently prosecuted—or one of their friends or relatives? Or a guy who had recently gotten out of prison? Or was it merely some random crazy who had seen her name in the paper? If only she had been able to see the face of the man who had seemed to follow her to Katie’s vigil. Did this guy really know where she lived—or just the general area?
She only really tuned in when they sang the hymns. “What Child Is This?” made tears spring to her eyes. “O Come, All Ye Faithful” filled her with strength and hope. And “Joy to the World” finally took her out of herself, at least for a moment.
When she shook Pastor Schmitz’s hand at the door after the service, he didn’t release his grasp. Instead, he leaned closer, and Allison could tell that he saw her, really saw her.
“Are you okay?”
She started to say, “Sure,” but her throat closed up. She couldn’t speak. Finally, she shook her head.
Marshall said, “There’s been a lot going on.”
“Would you like to talk?” Pastor Schmitz asked.
They looked at each other and then nodded.
“Why don’t you go down to my office, and I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
Allison and Marshall were silent as they walked back through the lobby, past the smiling people exchanging hugs and small wrapped gifts.
“What’s the matter?” Pastor Schmitz asked them five minutes later, as he sat in the brown chair next to the red cloth couch they were sitting on.
“Allison’s pregnant,” Marshall said.
“That’s marvelous news,” Pastor Schmitz said, but he didn’t smile. “What else?”
“I’m getting death threats at work,” Allison said. “And I’m trying to find out what’s happened to this missing girl.”
“Katie Converse,” Pastor Schmitz said. It wasn’t a question. Thanks to the nonstop news coverage, everyone knew Katie’s name. “Are the death threats related to Katie?”
“I don’t think so. But she is my number one priority right now. So you can see that there’s a lot going on for us.”
“God gives us times like these so that we can turn to His strength,” Pastor Schmitz said. “Why don’t we talk to Him about it?”
Allison closed her eyes. She felt Pastor Schmitz take one of her hands, and then Marshall take the other. The three of them formed a circle.
“Lord, thank you for this gift, this marvelous gift of a child,” the pastor began. He prayed for protection for Allison and the baby, and for Katie, and strength for those searching for her, and peace and comfort for her family. When he was finished, he said, “In Jesus’ name . . . ,” and the three of them murmured, “Amen.”
Allison’s fears quieted. But only for a moment.
HEDGES RESIDENCE
December 25
He came, Mama! He came! Santa Claus came!”
Makayla was bouncing on the edge of the bed. Nic opened one eye. Everything felt both right and wrong. Wrong because this wasn’t her bed, wasn’t her house. Right because a long time ago, both things had been hers.
And wrong because it was far too early to get up.