Page 120 of Finding Amanda

But they wouldn't call, because there wouldn't be a body tofind. Like the teenage girl who'd had the courage to turn in Sheppard, Amanda's body would never be discovered.

The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he rubbed the skin. There was something there—something that bothered him. It was like he'd just revealed a piece to a jigsaw puzzle, and he couldn't figure out how to fit it in. But it mattered. Whatitwas, he didn't know, but it lingered in his thoughts like the snow clinging to his coat. Just when he tried to grab the thought, like the snow, it melted away.

He went back to where his mind had been a moment before. The teenager who had accused Sheppard had disappeared. Though foul play was suspected, the girl was never found. It wasn't that easy to hide a body and keep it hidden forever. Surely Sheppard's property had been searched after the girl disappeared. But what if . . . what if she wasn't on Sheppard's property? Nobody had ever put Sheppard together with Morass before. Maybe they needed to search for Morass's property.

He dialed Chris. “Maybe Morass owns?—?”

“I was just looking that up. Hold on.”

Mark clamped his mouth, assuming that telling his friend to hurry up wouldn’t help.

“Here it is,” Chris said. “He owns a house near Lake Winnipesaukee. It must be a vacation home."

“Send me the address. I bet Amanda's on her way there right now."

The car was moving.With each turn, Amanda rolled and lurched. How long had it been? It felt like ten hours, but it was probably more like ten minutes. She wore no watch, usually relying on her cell phone to tell her the time. No cell phone now, no clock to tick away the final moments of her life.

The trunk was her coffin, smaller than a coffin. Panic rose from deep within her, a surge of adrenaline combined with fear, growing until she couldn't hold it in any longer. She screamed, kicked, punched at the metal surrounding her. It was no use. She'd never get out, but she couldn't give up, not yet. She pounded her feet into the trunk's door over and over, not making a single dent. In frustration she smashed her hand into the hard metal of the trunk lid, and pain shot up her arm.

The pain brought her back to reality. She couldn't panic. She couldn't hyperventilate—with the limited air, she'd pass out for sure. She needed to think.

She took three deep breaths, forcing herself to exhale completely, and then thought about the air supply again. Would there be enough, or would she suffocate? She concentrated on her breathing. In and out. Slowly. No rush. No panic. No fear.

Right. She was terrified.

In retrospect, it seemed obvious that Sheppard was dangerous. She'd known, yet she hadn't been afraid. Why? Because she'd trusted Mark to protect her. After all, wasn't that why she'd been attracted to him in the first place? If any man could protect her from Gabriel Sheppard, it was Mark Johnson. Being married to him, Amanda had allowed herself to slip into the fantasy that Gabriel Sheppard wouldn't hurt her. Now, as the bruise on her cheek throbbed, the lies she'd told herself faded away. Sheppard was going to kill her.

From the look in his eyes, he was looking forward to it.

And Mark . . . Mark was gone. When Chris had told her Mark's nickname—the prophet—it hadn't surprised her. Mark always knew more than anyone else. And she'd always trusted him.

For almost ten years, Mark had been her rock, the solid ground she'd built her life on. When he seemed to despise her for her past, she was crushed. And when she'd learned about hisaffair with Annalise, she'd lost faith in him. He wasn't the man she'd thought he was. He wasn't trustworthy. He wasn't her savior. He was just a flawed man, like the rest. That was why she'd gone against his advice this weekend, because she no longer trusted him.

And now she had nobody she could trust.

The swaying of the car and the fear enveloping her reminded her of the terrible accident that had killed her best friend and sent her to therapy. Amanda and Lisa had been making plans to ditch her little brother as soon as they got to the beach. And then suddenly, shrieking tires, a short scream, and the deafening sound of metal against metal. It happened so fast. One minute they were planning a trip to the arcade, the next . . .

Amanda never lost consciousness. Trapped between two bodies and unable to even flinch, let alone get herself out, she stared at the only thing visible outside of the car—the dark green side of the overturned tractor-trailer—and prayed.

Please save them. Please send someone to rescue us.She'd said it over and over, trusting God even as she felt her friends slip away.

By the time the ambulance arrived, Lisa, her brother, and her mother were dead. Lisa's father clung to life but died a few hours later from complications during surgery.

Amanda walked away from the accident with minor injuries.

It was Dr. Sheppard who'd suggested it was human instinct to want to believe in a higher power when feeling powerless.Believe in yourself—that's what he'd encouraged her to do. But how could she? He'd said it himself—she'd been powerless. She never believed in herself and had no idea how. So she'd believed in Gabriel. And when he'd proved to be less than perfect, she looked for someone else to place her faith in. And she found what she was looking for in Mark.

She'd discarded the God who'd let her down. But Gabriel was a madman, and Mark was gone. God was all she had left.

Amanda hadn't really prayed since the car accident.

Dear God, she thought, and with that, a small sob escaped.Dear God, have You been there all along? I have no right to ask You for anything now, and if You're there . . . Oh, God, please be there. I need You to be there now.

I don't want to die like this. I want to go home. I want to kiss my daughters and raise them and take care of them.

She thought of Mark, and tears burned. She loved him. She'd always loved him, but she'd been so foolish. How could she have thrown away their marriage so callously? Now, all she wanted was to feel Mark's arms around her again.

God,give me the chance to tell Mark I love him, to tell him how sorry I am for everything. If he rejects me, at least he'll know how I feel.

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