Making Her Way Home. Janice Johnson Kay

      An unlikely alliance with the most likely suspect

      A child is missing. The words chill Detective Mike Ryan and bring to mind memories of his own tragedy. He’ll dedicate every resource he has until the girl Sicily is found, safe…and alive. His investigation hits a snag with Sicily’s aunt and guardian, Beth Greenway. Beth’s cool demeanor is at odds with the situation, making him suspicious. She’s definitely hiding something. But the more time he spends with her, the less he believes that something is about the missing niece. And with all that contact, Mike sees Beth’s vulnerabilities. Suddenly, he wants to protect her, even while he wants to know her secrets.

      As the search hits one roadblock after another, Mike’s dedication intensifies. He needs to bring Sicily home for Beth…but also for the future he wants with them.

      “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

      Beth’s expression was as solemn as her words. And Mike felt the urge to lighten the moment.

      “Hounded you, you mean?” He offered a crooked smile.

      To his astonishment, she returned a genuine one. “Even that. You did it for Sicily. That was what was really important. That you thought about her first. I could tell you cared. That meant a lot to me.”

      He was reeling from the smile. It lit her face to real beauty. He wondered what she’d look like when she was truly happy.

      He tuned back in to notice that awareness had flared in her eyes.

      “Why are you looking at me like that?” She was almost whispering.

      “Your smile…” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering what you look like when you’re happy.”

      Some bleak knowledge stole most expression from her face. “I’m not very often. With Sicily, I’ve been feeling my way.” Even more softly, she finished, “I want to be.”

      He held out his hand and surprised himself by a naked truth he hadn’t known until this minute. “I want to be, too.”

      Dear Reader,

      This book was an interesting challenge for me, because I’ve never written one that took place in such a short period of time. I had to ask myself: can a woman suffering serious emotional damage from childhood abuse learn to love in only one week? Can the hero, who has grieved for his dead son for eight long years, discover so quickly that a particular woman makes him ready to move on? What about the little girl, raised by a troubled, drug-addicted mother who died only a month ago? She’s only ten—how much self-understanding can she arrive at so quickly?

      My theory has always been that we change when under pressure—in this case, the more pressure the better. And boy, did I apply it! Beth Greenway has convinced herself that she doesn’t feel very much...but her sister’s death and the addition of Sicily to her life awakens memories, shame, guilt and regret—and the first trickle of hope. When Sicily vanishes from an innocent outing to the beach, Beth’s facade cracks. The cracks widen when it becomes apparent that the police suspect her of killing this child, or at least of conspiring in her kidnapping. The relentless pressure put on her by Detective Mike Ryan—who is also, strangely, kinder to her than anyone ever has been—finally shatters Beth. As for Sicily, there’s nothing like being a hostage, knowing she can only depend on herself, to make a frightened girl realize her own strength. And for Mike, the hope of saving Sicily may redeem him.

      Answer: a whole lot can happen in one suspenseful, gut-wrenching week. In the end, I loved writing Making Her Way Home, and truly believe in the happiness these three troubled people find. I hope you believe, too!

      Janice Kay Johnson

      P.S. I enjoy hearing from readers! Please contact me c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Toronto, ON

      M3B 3K9, Canada.

      Making Her Way Home

      Janice Kay Johnson

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      The author of more than sixty books for children and adults, Janice Kay Johnson writes Harlequin Superromance novels about love and family—about the way generations connect and the power our earliest experiences have on us throughout life. Her 2007 novel Snowbound won a RITA® Award from Romance Writers of America for Best Contemporary Series Romance. A former librarian, Janice raised two daughters in a small rural town north of Seattle, Washington. She loves to read and is an active volunteer and board member for Purrfect Pals, a no-kill cat shelter.

      This one’s for you, Sarah,

      for all those mostly patient pats on the back I so need, not to mention for the plotting ideas—the “something weird” was the spark that allowed me to finish this book.

      Love you! Mom

      Contents

       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

       EXCERPT

      CHAPTER ONE

      EVEN AS SHE AWAKENED SLOWLY, Beth Greenway felt the first pang of unease. The sun was warm on her face, which was strange since she never slept in the daytime. Whatever she was lying on wasn’t very comfortable. Instead of immediately opening her eyes, she listened to distant voices—conversations, shrieks of delight, laughs.

      Pebbles. That’s what she seemed to be lying on. Puzzlement sharpened her brain and she opened her eyes to the sight of the sun and a glimpse of twisted gray driftwood.

      She was at the beach. She and her niece, Sicily, had brought a picnic. Sicily had found some other kids to play with, and Beth read a paperback thriller until her eyes got so heavy she’d laid back and closed them.

      That’s why she felt uneasy—she hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Sitting up, Beth quickly scanned the beach, searching for the ten-year-old. Sicily surely had the sense not to go far. The tide was on its way in, but there was still a wet, slick expanse of beach tide pools. A cluster of children crouched, gazing into one, but none of them had Sicily’s