The Word of a Child

The Word of a Child
Janice Kay Johnson

On an ordinary day, in an ordinary neighborhood, a knock on the door of an ordinary house leads to an extraordinary revelation.Detective Connor McLean is the man who came to call, carrying with him a child's accusation. Connor's visit ended Mariah Stavig's marriage and left her a struggling single mother. Three years later, the word of another child brings Connor back into Mariah's life.Connor knows his investigations can ruin as much as they fix, but he has no choice. He has sworn to speak for the innocent and seek justice for the victims. And now, to do his job, he has to have Mariah's help–no matter how much she hates him.

Please call Detective McLean.

Mariah was not surprised to find a pink message slip in her mail cubby. Did he feel any guilt about making accusations he could never prove? Or did he believe that he held no blame for the disruption left in his wake?

She stared with burning eyes at his name, then crumpled the slip in her fist. It would be a cold day in hell before she’d ever call him.

She was glad she’d come early, so she had time to compose herself before her first class poured into her room. She paused to look at a wall mural lovingly created by one of her former students.

Her students liked her. Remembered her. Trusted her.

Tracy Mitchell had trusted her. Had come to her for help. How could she let one of her students down because her own scars weren’t fully healed?

Tracy had promise she would likely never fulfill. But it was there, and teachers were sometimes wrong about who would succeed or fail. The teenager did not deserve to be blackmailed, to have to feel that this, of all things, was her fault.

With a sigh, Mariah went to her desk and dug in her tote for her cell phone. Apparently despite the sunlight, it was really a cold day. A very, very cold day.

Somewhere.

Dear Reader,

This book continues the story begun in His Partner’s Wife about three brothers who felt compelled to become cops because of their father’s senseless murder. The Word of a Child touches on the damage done to lives by sexual abuse, but most of all it’s about trust and the suspicions that undermine love. What if you suspect your husband or parent or child of having done something terrible? Do you accuse them and find out you were wrong to trust them? We all want to believe that our family will always back us, will always assume accusations are wrong, will always believe the best until proved otherwise.

So what if you not only fear the worst about someone you love, but you never learn the truth? What does it do to that person, and to you?

These, of course, are the kinds of questions that fascinate me as a writer. I love the consequences that spread like ripples, touching so many other people. Sometimes I secretly suspect we authors are always writing about ourselves, on some level: How would I react? What would I say? Feel?

Hey, who needs psychoanalysis? Just write a few books! But you notice that I cut myself a break and always allow my characters to discover the deep, priceless love that gives our lives meaning.

My hope is that you, too, will find not just escape but occasional self-discovery in the pages of my books.

Sincerely,

Janice Kay Johnson

The Word of a Child

Janice Kay Johnson

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

With thanks to my wonderful editors at Superromance,

Laura Shin and Paula Eykelhof, who encourage me

to write the books that matter.

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

PROLOGUE

MARIAH STAVIG HAD NO reason to fear the unexpected knock on the door. Her husband and daughter were safely at home; she’d hung up the telephone from speaking to her mother not five minutes before. She felt only mild surprise and curiosity about who might be stopping by at seven-thirty in the evening.

Strangers, she discovered, had come calling in the form of a very large man in a dark suit and a pleasant-faced older woman, neither of whom she knew. Which were they selling, vacuum cleaners or religion?

“May I help you?” she asked.

“Are you Mariah Stavig?”

Puzzlement replaced her initial annoyance at the intrusion. “Yes, I am.”

The man flipped open a leather case to show a police badge. “I’m Detective Connor McLean from the Port Dare PD.”