Finally Found (Doms of Destiny, Colorado 10)

Chapter One

Carrie Doss glanced at the emergency exit just three feet from the table where she sat. Always having an escape plan in mind was something he had taught her a very long time ago.

But it wasn’t just out of habit her current focus was on the door, which she’d noted her first day on the job at the diner. The exit had been quite easy to spot with the words “Alarm will sound when opened” across the big metal panic bar. No matter what shift she worked—early morning, breakfast, lunch, dinner, or late night—Carrie kept that door in view, in case he came through the front entrance.

She hadn’t seen the con artist reverend in thirteen years, but the very thought of him made her blood turn icy and her insides storm. Could the female customer sitting across from her be on the bastard’s payroll? Even if not, the woman had way too much information. The well-dressed lady had come into the diner and ordered pie and coffee. Not unusual. The eatery was one of the premier places in Dallas to get award winning, delicious desserts. Having a killer sweet tooth, Carrie had applied to be a waitress at The Little Spot Diner the very day she’d entered the city limits. That was only sixty days ago. Normally she would have at least another month before she packed her bags for another city, another place where she could remain anonymous.

Bags? She only had one, the big red suitcase that was never far from her and was always locked. Right now, it was inside the trunk of her car, a 2005 red Chevy Malibu, which was parked on the side street by the diner.

The woman had introduced herself as “Jena.” She was Carrie’s last customer for tonight’s shift. “You were once Carrie Clemens, correct?”

“No,” she lied. “I’ve never gone by Carrie Clemens.”

Jena had asked Carrie to sit and join her for dessert.

It had been so long since Carrie had any connection with another human being. Pie and coffee had sounded good to her, being more than a little hungry. Against better judgment, she’d agreed and took the seat opposite Jena. Now she knew it had been a mistake.

“I see.” Jena glanced back at the laptop that she’d brought out after Carrie had sat down. The woman didn’t look dangerous. Actually, Jena was quite attractive. Her emerald-green eyes were vibrant and her demeanor was warm.

Carrie took another bite of her apple pie, noting that Jena had pushed her half-eaten cherry pie to the side.

Jena might not appear a threat to most, but Carrie had also learned that looks could be deceiving. Rev. William Mayfield, or Brother Willie, as he’d preferred to be called, had always seemed harmless but definitely wasn’t. Not only was he a con man, but he was also extremely abusive. She had many scars to prove it—both physically and mentally.

Looking up from her laptop, Jena fixed her stare on her. “You changed your name to Doss, right?”

“No. I’ve always been Carrie Doss,” she lied as her apprehension continued to grow. Who is this woman and what does she want with me? The more questions Jena asked her the more she worried that there was a connection of some sort between Jena and the reverend. “I’ve never been a Clemens.”

“Clemens” was the first name Willie had given her after the fire. His name. One of many. She’d learned later that his real last name was Mayfield. Brother Willie had never told her. Did he even remember it himself? Of course he did. Unlike her mind, the bastard’s had no gaps, no missing weeks, months, or years.

She didn’t remember the fire, only the smoke. That was a recurring nightmare that had never gone away. How many times over the years had the dark dream pushed her to consciousness and she awoke screaming? Until her fifth birthday, too many to number. She’d learned to stifle her screams to avoid Willie’s rage. But even now, twenty-six years later and away from his wrath, she still suffered with the nightmarish memory. Until she turned five, Willie had held her tight any time the terrors came, telling her that everything would be okay. But on the night of her fifth birthday, when the smoke had seemed so real, his tenderness vanished. In its place, a dark cruelty erupted that she had to endure from then on while in his custody.

“Shut up, you little brat.” He slapped her across the face.

She started wailing and he hit her again.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” He covered her mouth with his big hand, shocking her into silence. “I have a sermon to deliver tomorrow.”

He released her. She looked up at him, sniffling.

His lips twisted into that horrific smile she detested. “Disturb me again and you will feel my full wrath. You’re mine now. Your parents are dead. They didn’t want you. I did. I have a special plan for you, Carrie. You’re too young to understand it now, but soon all will be revealed. But I will not tolerate any more of your stupid dreams. Do you understand me?”

With an all-consuming fear and tears streaming down from her eyes, she nodded.

Rev. Willie had been the one who told her about her parents’ joint suicide. He’d rescued her from the blaze. Part of her still felt obligated to Willie despite all the horror she’d endured living with him.

She’d only been three at the time of her parents’ deaths. Three years old. Her life before was only flashes of memories. She couldn’t bring up the faces of her parents, though she could recall her mother’s long auburn hair and her father’s big booming voice.

“What about Armstrong? Did anyone ever call you by that name?” Jena’s locks were similar to Carrie’s mother’s.

At least the way I remember them.

“No.” Another lie. They came easily after so many years of being on the run.

The woman looked up from her laptop’s screen. “What about ‘Dixon?’”

“Never.” Which was the truth. “I’ve never heard of that name before.”

Jena seemed more disappointed in that answer than any of the others. “Did you ever live in Atlanta, Carrie?”

Atlanta. Los Angeles. Chicago. New York. Choosing to reside in the large cities of the US made it easier to go unnoticed and hopefully undetectable by Brother Willie.

“No, Jena. I never lived in Atlanta.” She was done with being interrogated and pushed her chair back from the table. “My shift is over and I have to be back at the diner early in the morning.” But I will never come back here. Time to run again.

The chance of Jena working for Willie didn’t seem likely, but that didn’t matter. The big question that haunted her was why had Jena tracked her down? Carrie knew most of the possible answers and none of them were in her favor. “I’ve enjoyed talking with you. Consider the pie and coffee on the house. I hope you come back again and we can talk more.”

“Please, Carrie. Don’t go. I know your brother.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “My brother is dead. I have no family.”

“No. He isn’t. He survived the fire. Matt is my husband.”

She did remember having a brother. Willie had always denied it whenever she brought it up, calling her delusional. Could Jena be telling the truth? Carrie had no memory of her brother other than his eyes, which only appeared in happy dreams.

“Wasn’t your brother’s name Matt, Carrie?”

“I honestly don’t know.” The truth. This is dangerous. She glanced at the exit. “I really have to be going.”

Before she could bolt to the door, Jena pulled out a photo and pushed it across the table.

She looked down at the picture and froze in place. The hazel eyes of the man in the photo kept her from moving. Those are the exact eyes I remember. In my dreams.

“This is Matt. He’s your brother. You thought he was dead. He also thought you were dead. Thank God, you were both wrong. I’ve been searching for you for months, Carrie. You recognize him, don’t you?”

“He looks familiar, especially his eyes. But this can’t be my brother, Jena.” How was it possible, being only three when she’d last seen her sibling, she could remember the color and shape of his eyes? Could what Jena was saying to her really be true? Could her brother really have survived the fire, the smoke? Did she really have family still alive?

If he was alive, what impact had their parents’ suicide had on him? Did he have nightmares like her? “Does this man in the photo remember having parents?”

“Yes.” Smiling, Jena reached across the table to grab her hands. Instinctively, Carrie jerked back but kept her eyes locked in on the photo on the table.