The Taking Of Carly Bradford. Ramona Richards

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      I wish I had seen the driver, a license plate, anything.

      Her mind had been so locked on thoughts of Tyler that she’d been virtually oblivious to the traffic around her. When the oversized SUV had shoved her off the road, her car had rolled, coming to rest with the driver’s side on the ground.

      The tow truck driver had started strapping her smashed car down to his truck when Tyler’s cruiser slid onto the scene, sirens blaring. He got out, then stopped when he saw the car.

      Tyler put a hand over his mouth and rubbed it back and forth. He conferred with the supervising officer who turned and pointed at Dee.

      Tyler followed his direction, and his gaze locked on her. His brows merged into one thick line as he scowled, and his eyes darkened to an intensity that made her sit up straighter. As he stalked toward her, her stomach tightened in a way that was part fear and part anticipation—she really wanted to avoid the coming confrontation, yet she truly felt relieved to see him.

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      RAMONA RICHARDS

      A writer and editor since 1975, Ramona Richards has worked on staff with a number of publishers. Ramona has also freelanced with more than twenty magazine and book publishers and has won awards for both her fiction and nonfiction. She’s written everything from sales training video scripts to book reviews, and her latest articles have appeared in Today’s Christian Woman, College Bound and Special Ed Today. She sold a story about her daughter to Chicken Soup for the Caregiver’s Soul, and Secrets of Confidence, a book of devotionals, is available from Barbour Publishing.

      In 2004, the God Allows U-Turns Foundation, in conjunction with the Advanced Writers and Speakers Association (AWSA), chose Ramona for their “Strength of Choice” award, and in 2003, AWSA nominated Ramona for Best Fiction Editor of the Year. The Evangelical Press Association presented her with an award for reporting in 2003, and in 1989 she won the Bronze Award for Best Original Dramatic Screenplay at the Houston International Film Festival. A member of the American Christian Fiction Writers and the Romance Writers of America, she has five other novels complete or in development.

      Ramona and her daughter live in a suburb of Nashville, Tennessee. She can be reached through her Web site, www.ramonarichards.com.

      The Taking of Carly Bradford

      Ramona Richards

      The Lord doth build up Jerusalem: He gathereth together the outcasts of Israel. He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. He telleth the number of the stars; He calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power: His understanding is infinite.

      —Psalms 147:2–5

      It only takes one special teacher to change a life. My greatest fortune is that I had more than one. So this is for all the men and women who did what they could to share their love of learning and their wisdom…and to keep me out of trouble. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to all my teachers at Crestline Elementary, Pennington Elementary, Cameron Middle, Two Rivers High, Mt. Juliet High and the entire English department at Middle Tennessee State University.

      So many thanks go to Mrs. Camp, Mrs. Kay, Mr. Dobbins, Mrs. O’Neill, Miss Hall and Mr. Waters, as well as others. And especially to Dr. Frank Ginanni, who seemed to truly believe I could make a living from my writing when no one else did.

      Joshua was scared. He knew he was in trouble, but he didn’t know what to do. “My parents will be so mad!” he told Rabbit. “They will never believe that my shoes walked away without me.”

      Rabbit looked back with sad eyes.

      “You are right!” Joshua exclaimed. “I have to find them. Then, when my parents find me, everything will be all right.”

      —Dee Kelley

      The Day My Shoes Took a Walk Without Me, 2003

      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

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      EPILOGUE

      QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

      ONE

      “Drop the shoes!”

      “No! Get away from me!” Dee Kelley screamed the five words, the sound tearing at her throat the way the trees around her tore at her body. Her face stung as a branch lashed her cheeks and forehead. The trees around her, the tips of their limbs vividly green with shiny new leaves, turned into a harsh field of obstacles as she fled, their boughs tugging at her clothes while their roots made every step uncertain. Dee risked a glance behind her, and she stumbled, going down sideways, her hip thudding into a patch of bright purple flowers in the undergrowth. A shriek burst from her lips as she twisted, fighting back to her feet, her right fist still desperately clinging to a pair of bright white children’s sandals.

      “Drop the shoes!” The rough voice sounded closer than before, almost at her back, and Dee could hear the running footsteps, the sounds of boots smashing into the soft, spring ground that had dogged her for almost half a mile.

      A musty, sweet blended aroma of damp leaves and squashed flowers circled around her head as Dee demanded her exhausted body to rise off the woodland floor again. “Get up! Get up!”

      This third fall had compounded the scrapes and bruises of the previous two. The winding and uneven path that traversed the two and a half miles from her writer’s retreat cabin and the small, historic town of Mercer, New Hampshire, was familiar to her, but now she was far off the path, into the dense forest, running, gasping for air, hurting.

      “What were you thinking?” Her hoarse words sounded flat as she struggled to her feet and ran, trying to ignore the voice behind her.

      But she knew the answer as she grasped her aching side. She had been thinking that these white sandals could mean the difference between life and death. She just never dreamed it might be her own.

      Tyler Madison picked up the picture of eight-year-old Carly Bradford that had remained propped against his desk calendar for the past three months. He examined yet again the delicate features and shining smile. Tyler