I Will Find You

Summary

He abducts women who look like her and takes each one as his bride.

With each disappointment, he begins again.

A young female’s mutilated body, dressed in Amish clothing, is discovered outside the Newfoundland religious compound in Billings. For Montana SBI Homicide Detective Hannah Grace, it’s unnerving how she and the victim bear more than a strong resemblance. She teams up with detective-in-charge and partner, Sean Murphy, to catch the killer before he strikes again. When the investigation leads them to a second body, the same features and clothing as the first, Hannah is shaken to the core and begins to make a terrifying connection—she may know the killer.

A gruesome discovery and a third victim leads them back to Newfoundland, where the monster Hannah has been hiding from for ten years is waiting to claim her as his bride. After all, she’s the one he’s wanted all along.

And she’s the only one who can stop him.

Table of Contents

Summary

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

About the Author

ONE

Outside Helena, Montana - ten years ago

Concealed in the shadows of the trees behind her house, I watch her every move. So graceful. So beautiful. She glides from the garden to the front porch steps like an angel, her feet never appearing to touch the ground. Her large eyes glitter in the sunlight, dancing like blue diamonds whenever she smiles.

And she always smiles.

The white bonnet, although traditional in our Amish upbringing as it covers her waves of gold, is a travesty on her. I long to see her with her silky hair down, unbound, cascading around her naked body like a buttery waterfall. I fantasize her chest heaving in fear and uncertainty as she prepares for me to take her for the first time, to unite us in spirit as well as flesh. The calf-length dress she wears, that all the girls her age wear, accents her ripe, rounded bosom. She’s blossomed from a girl into a woman while I’ve been away. It’s time I take us to the next level. She’s ready for me.

I knew the minute I spotted Hannah Grace that I’d made the right choice by returning from my Rumspringa, despite the Bann that welcomed me back to my own congregation. Being shunned by my friends and family doesn’t surprise me as much as disappoints me. I had hoped to come back to something more. I realize now my congregation isn’t progressive enough to accept my belief system and, frankly, I’ve outgrown them. They’re no longer deserving of my presence. It’s unfortunate, especially with the potential I see in some of the members. Perhaps I’ll return for them once I have my own order.

With Hannah by my side, we’ll start our own congregation and have a massive following. We’ll be the Adam and Eve of the New Order. It’s my will. As my wife, her will is mine and this is what I want. So shall it be done. I’ll be the youngest bishop in Amish history.

The sun, high in the cloudless sky, warms the air and adds to the heat already exciting my flesh. I fill my lungs with the smells of the bountiful August day. The fresh-cut grass. The fragrant, sweet onions and chives Hannah has just extracted from the ground.

Her.

Oh, yes. I inhale again, this time deeper, taking in her exotic scent. The women in the English world reek, like they’ve all bathed in nauseating perfumes to cover their filthy stench. No matter how many women I had on my Rumspringa, I was never satisfied. They all wanted the same thing—to make me a man. I let them believe what they wanted as I used them for practice.

None of them mattered. To me. To this world. They were necessary for me to transcend into the man I am today. There’s only one woman I want and she stands before me, unaware of my gaze. When she bends over, my want for her explodes inside me, flooding my loins with insatiable need. I have to have her, to possess her as mine and only mine.

I’ll have to hide my lust for the young Hannah. Lust is a sin and something I will not tolerate in my New Order. I’ll also have to find some way to tame the seductress ways of girls like Hannah Grace. The bonnet and modest dress aren’t enough. It won’t do having boys focusing their wants and needs on the flesh when there’s so much work to do.

Her dog comes bounding around from the other side of the house and freezes as it stares into the shadows hiding me. The hackles on the little herding animal stand up. With a low growl, Ollie announces my appearance.

I don’t approve of frivolous animals. Dogs are meant for protection and alarm systems, not as decorative creatures. Dogs like Ollie serve no purpose but to annoy. When I take Hannah as my bride, there’ll be no useless creatures in the King household. She’ll insist on taking Ollie, but I already have a plan for that. Hannah will serve nothing before me. She needs nothing else beyond my will.

I step out from the shadows and approach the gate. She turns and her smile wilts. That brilliant shine in her eyes fades as she frowns. Javan.

The sound of my name falling from those plump lips is as if God Himself has spoken it, the melodic sound immediately lifting my spirits. The heavens shine upon us and only us. Together we’ll lead the flock and find salvation in each other’s arms.

Hello, Hannah. You look exceptionally beautiful today.

I’m not worthy of your admiration, she retorts in a cutting tone. I don’t miss the way her lip curls as she delivers her insult.

I grasp the gate and dig my nails into the paint until I can control my reaction to her remark. When she’s my wife, her defiance will be dealt with, but now is not the time or place to discipline her.

Ollie erupts into a frenzy of barks and growls. She does nothing to silence the annoying runt, which only solidifies my decision to personally remove the dog from this earth. When she finally reaches down to calm him, sending some of the beautiful waves that have come loose from her bonnet forward, she takes my breath away. Instead of waiting for an invitation, I enter her yard. Ollie growls low, his watchful gaze never leaving me. The dog settles against her leg and stays between her and me.

Why are you here? she asks in her soft voice.

I’ve returned. For you.

So I see. She turns away and gathers the overflowing basket of vegetables into her arms. I rush over and take it, touching her finger gently, yet possessively. She flushes and lust boils in my veins. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood to stop myself from reaching for her.

The dog growls and bares his teeth. I step back and eye Ollie, careful to keep my disdain for the beast hidden. Has it gone mad?

No, he just doesn’t like you. She says it so direct, her tone so sharp, that I retreat another step as if she’s physically struck me. What’s gotten into my sweet Hannah? I returned to marry a dutiful, submissive woman and start my own congregation, not be challenged by my own property.

And Hannah Grace is mine.

This Hannah just won’t do. A woman should never talk to a man in such a disobedient manner. If she uses that tone with me once we marry, the punishment will be severe.

Perhaps it needs to be taught the difference between master and servant.

He’s protecting me. She reaches down and pets the little heathen.

My anger bubbles just below the surface. I’m very good at controlling it—until I’m pushed too far. There will be a time and place for her discipline. With a deep breath, I steady my voice. What danger am I to you?

She holds my gaze and I recognize that defiance, that undeniable challenge swirling in those stunning blue eyes. I’ll take great pleasure taming that wild streak.

The screen door creaks, the sound breaking our connection. She turns to praise the beast for being such a good dog. Franklin Grace steps out of the house and stops when he spots me. He rests his piercing blue eyes on me and thrusts out his bearded chin but says nothing.

It unsettles me, having him stare like that. The air between us grows thick with tension. Not wanting to offend my future father-in-law, I remove my hat and lower my gaze, submitting. Good day, Mr. Grace.

That it is, Javan. What brings you over to this congregation?

I came to see Hannah, sir. I hang my hat on the gate.

She has quite a bit of work left before the sun sets.

Franklin? Who’s out there? Miriam Grace walks out of the house and drops her jaw when she sees me. She then grins so wide her back teeth show. Javan! You’ve returned.

I smile warmly, knowing the power it has on women. I’ve been told as much while living among the English for a time. The way my chocolate eyes twinkle sends hearts into palpitations. One flash of my smile and women want to run their fingers through my dark hair in an attempt to seduce me. Though I take part in the physical release, none of them will ever sway my loyalty and devotion from Hannah Grace.

He was just leaving, Mr. Grace says in a cool voice.

I lose my smile as I memorize the cold look in Franklin’s eyes. The man makes no secret he doesn’t approve of me. That’s going to be a problem. If I don’t have the support of Hannah’s father, claiming her as mine will be next to impossible.

I try another approach. Mr. Grace, now that I’ve returned, please allow me to help you in the field. Perhaps I could persuade my brothers to help as well. If you recall, I’m the youngest of seven boys.

I’m very well aware of your brothers, Javan. I seem to recall having to chase them out of my barn more than a few times. You, too.

I ignore the instinct to defend my family name. Who is this man to point out any wrongdoing? God blessed the Kings with seven strong sons. What did he grant the Graces? A daughter with a sharp tongue. That was so long ago, sir. We were all so young. We’ve grown into men. You have such a large field to care for. Having a single female child certainly doesn’t do you any good on a plow.

"And yet this single female child hasn’t been shunned from her congregation."

Hannah, mind that sharp tongue lest the Lord seal your lips. Mr. Grace doesn’t have to raise his voice. Using an old Amish proverb as discipline is all he needs for his daughter to nod once and drop her attention to her booted feet. A deep flush washes over her like a fever. We are not unkind to our guests.

I hold in my triumphant smile before darting a quick glance at her. When our gazes lock, I tighten the corners of my lips. Although I address Mr. Grace, I keep my attention on his daughter. I hope to be more than a guest, sir, if you’ll allow me. I’d like to speak with you about a marriage between your daughter and me.

Hannah sucks in a breath as she widens her eyes. She shakes her head and teeters when her mother squeals and claps her hands together.

Oh, Javan. That’s wonderful. Mrs. Grace nods enthusiastically.

Mr. Grace doesn’t seem to share in her excitement. Miriam, I believe I hear your water boiling.

But I’m not—

He silences her with a look. What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of power over Hannah. Soon. I just have to bide my time and then everything will be perfect.

With a quick nod, Mrs. Grace obeys her husband and disappears inside the house. Mr. Grace descends the porch stairs, that unnerving cool blue glare never leaving me. He stops in front of me and takes the basket of vegetables out of my hands. It seems it is my daughter you should speak with first. I’ll leave the two of you to talk out here. Since you’ve been shunned in your congregation, I’m sure you understand why I cannot allow you into my home.

I understand, sir.

After Mr. Grace walks up the stairs and into the house, I turn to Hannah as she speaks. I don’t want to marry you.

You’re young and you don’t know what you want. As your husband, my will is also yours.

Her eyes widen as her mouth falls open. "That may work with the women in your strict congregation, but not with me. My father raised me to speak my mind. My will is mine, Javan. Not yours."

I don’t put any weight in her logic. She’s a woman. She doesn’t know what she wants. After seeing how rebellious she’s become while I’ve been away, we can’t wait until after the harvest to marry. She needs to be tamed now. Once we marry, we’ll start our own order, a New Order. It is my will.

It isn’t mine. If you want a New Order, you’ll have to start one on your own. I don’t want you here. Leave, Javan. Never return. You’re not welcome. She stomps up the stairs, opens the screen, and then vanishes. When the screen door slams shut, the sound is like a knife stabbing my heart.

I can’t go after her and publically disrespect her father’s wishes to obey the rules of the shunning hanging over me like a black cloud. I will have Hannah, with or without Franklin Grace’s approval. I may not like the man, but I must show respect for him.

For now.

It hurts to breathe. My chest constricts as I fight to maintain control. Every muscle tightens. My anguish melts into anger as it bubbles inside me. I’ll take her, with or without her permission. If anyone stands in my way, they’ll be dealt with.

I walk over and place my hands on the gate. Once again I dig my nails into the paint and in my barely contained rage, I rip a board off the fence. It triggers my fury and I tear off several more before I can stop. Destruction of property isn’t the answer. I take a deep breath and reach for my hat, replacing it as I narrow my gaze at the house.

Mind that sharp tongue, I rasp under my breath. Lest the Lord seal your lips.

TWO

Billings, Montana – Present day

Why do we always end up on this subject? I’m a homicide detective, not a call girl. Hannah Grace shoved her fingers through her tangled mass of blonde waves, wishing she’d had time for a shower before being called in to work a double. She smelled like a cross between stale sweat and exhaustion.

What else is there to talk about? Her partner, tough-as-nails homicide veteran Sean Murph Murphy, wouldn’t let it go. It was no secret why their captain paired them together. She barely reached five-two and a buck-ten soaking wet. She was about as intimidating as a daisy.

Murph, on the other hand, cleared six feet by several inches and was built like a barn. His muscles had muscles. With piercing green eyes and short, dark hair that accented his square jaw, Murph had the power to stare down any perp. She, well, didn’t.

Come on. It’ll be fun. Why not?

She dreaded stakeouts. For the two years she’d been a detective in Montana’s State Bureau of Investigation Homicide Unit, the topic always landed on why they would never be anything more than partners. I already told you. I don’t date guys at work.

"We don’t have to date at work." He flashed the devilish grin that made his bold gaze glimmer wickedly and had every woman in the office swooning. She wasn’t immune. But, since she had to spend close to twelve hours a day with him—twenty, in today’s case—she’d learned to ignore it. Besides, it was all talk.

I’m glad we both agree.

For what I have in mind, we’d definitely need to be away from work. You won’t even have to respect me in the morning. He wiggled his eyebrows.

You’re so superficial. And I thought you being in love with yourself was just a summer fling.

He popped a pretzel into his mouth. You’ve been in the real world for, what, close to ten years now.

So?

It’s time you start living, Gracie Jean.

Gracie Jean, as he’d dubbed her, actually referred to Norma Jean, Marilyn Monroe’s given name. Before all the fame and fortune, before Monroe was thrust into a world moving faster than she knew how to keep up with, she was just plain Norma Jean. When she transformed into Marilyn Monroe, she may have looked different on the surface, but she was still that frightened girl simply trying not to get lost along the way. Hannah connected with her in so many ways. Every day challenged her to find a new way to stay on her chosen path without sacrificing her values. Every. Single. Day.

She pushed her hair off her face as frustration and fatigue fought for dominance. And sleeping with you proves what?

Who said anything about sleeping?

She rolled her eyes. She was too tired to come up with something. Fatigue won out. Whatever, Murph. We both know it’ll never happen. You’re like a brother to me.

He had his mouth open to accept another pretzel but snapped it closed. Way to kill the mood.

Smiling at her small triumph of shutting him up about the subject for at least five minutes, she redirected the conversation to something a little more useful. Can you believe the SBI is loaning us out for something as harmless as breaking and entering?

Some B&E’s result in death. We may get lucky. After all, this is Newfoundland. It wouldn’t be the first time the SBI has been called out here. You get used to the same names popping up.

Why they named their compound after a big fluffy black dog I’ll never understand. Not very original. And since when did religious compounds start popping up in Montana?

This from a gal who grew up in one?

I grew up Amish. That’s not a compound, nor is it a cult. Or a prison. Or anything else I know you want to call it. It’s a simpler way of life, period.

Touchy, he mumbled. If it means that much to you, why’d you leave? In the two years we’ve been partnered up, you’ve never really talked about it.

She stared at the compound as the memories of the day she’d walked away flashed in her brain like a horror movie on a loop. First her dog, then her dad. Ollie would have never left her. Neither would her father. I had my reasons.

Like finding out what happened to them both. She couldn’t do that from inside the congregation. She left the only life she’d ever known to find answers. As much as she wanted to live out the rest of her days in the house of her youth, she couldn’t do it, not with everyone willing to simply accept what had happened as God’s will. She knew better. Franklin Grace loved his family. He would have never walked away, leaving Hannah and her mom to deal with the harvest on their own. Ollie was loyal and would have never wandered off. Something happened that night, something evil.

There were too many unanswered questions no one wanted to ask. She refused to accept her father’s disappearance as anything other than what it was—forced. Since no one was willing to hunt down the answers, she did the only thing she could. She left to find the answers on her own. She wouldn’t rest until she discovered the truth.

Not wanting to think about that right now, she shifted the conversation back to the compound. Look at that structure. Fort Knox doesn’t even have that many bars on its windows or that much razor wire on the top of its walls. What are they trying to keep out?

"It isn’t what they’re trying to keep out as much as who they’re forcing to stay in. He slurped his coffee and made a face. This stuff is terrible. You’d think the bureau would spring for better, considering how many bullshit assignments they send us on in the middle of the night."

She cleared her throat. Sure, she’d been exposed to every cuss word out there since leaving home. Still, she’d never get used to it. No one talked like that where she grew up.

Sorry. I forgot your rule. He used air quotes on the last word and rolled his eyes. No cussing in your car, which means I basically can’t speak.

Why do you think I offer to drive on our stakeouts? She smiled sweetly.

I’d call you a name right now, but I’m not allowed.

I can guess.

I bet you can. Guess what I’m thinking now. He wiggled his eyebrows again.

She caught herself before saying anything she’d regret. Movement outside the compound drew her attention to the enormous iron gate. That shadow was definitely a person. Hannah perked up, her exhaustion taking a back seat to her interest in who, exactly, was out there and why he sneaked around outside Newfoundland. Check out Mr. Sneaky. Do you think he’s our perp?

Hello, Murph sang, his gaze following the hooded man in the black sweatshirt. Gone was the jokester from before, replaced by the no-nonsense partner she trusted with her life. Dunno, but that outfit is not going to win him any awards on the catwalk.

That was as serious as it got with Sean Murphy. She’d learned to accept it or he’d drive her insane like he’d done all his previous partners. She’d even learned how to give a little back now and then to keep up with him.

How you even know about fashion is beyond me. You’d wear a dirty football jersey everyday if you could get away with it. I’ve seen your apartment.

Your idea of fashion is a beanie and a smock. That does not make you Heidi Klum.

It’s called a bonnet and apron, Einstein, and I haven’t worn either since I left. The pinch in her chest sent her breath into a hitch. She would not regret her decision to leave her Amish upbringing. It had been ten years. She had to face the truth.

She was never going back.

If she could have stayed she would have, but she refused to accept that her father had simply walked away from his entire world. Everyone else had moved on, while she’d moved away. She needed answers, answers she’d never find if she’d stayed. Besides, without her father protecting her, Javan King would have convinced her mother that marrying Hannah would have been God’s will. She would have been trapped in a fate worse than purgatory.

It’s weird, he added with a shrug.

"It’s traditional. She hated having this conversation with him, each time explaining the simple clothing choices of her heritage. He’s on the move."

Murph straightened, watching the perp for all of two seconds, and nodded. Then so are we. Let’s go.

Playtime was over. She switched from defensive about the culture of her youth to the offensive, focusing on the unwelcome guest. Mr. Sneaky flattened out against the north wall and whipped his head back and forth. He then leaned forward before taking a step toward the gate.

At once, the entire compound came alive with floodlights triggered by the movement, scaring the bejeebies out of the perp. The echo of a dozen dogs erupted into the night. Mr. Sneaky sprinted off in the opposite direction of the commotion.

Right toward the car. Hannah jumped out and pulled her service pistol, setting her stance and using the door as a shield. SBI! Freeze!

Mr. Sneaky, shocked and panic-stricken at both the lights and the sudden appearance of the SBI, skidded to a stop and threw up his hands. I’m just trying to help her escape.

Who? Murph stepped out from behind his door and approached the trespasser, all six-foot plus of hard muscle and sheer intimidation. Mr. Sneaky, who stared up at him with wide eyes and a quiver in his lower lip, fell mute.

My partner asked you a question. She steadied her hand as she holstered her weapon once Murph had him. It took a few deep breaths to force her adrenaline into check. No matter how many times she’d drawn her weapon, it still got to her. In all her training, pulling a gun meant she’d better be ready to shoot to kill, if it came to that. And, Lord willing, she hoped it never would.

MaryAnn. Mr. Sneaky darted his frightened gaze between Murph and Hannah. Poor kid. He couldn’t be a day over sixteen.

How old are you?

Eighteen, ma’am.

Ma’am? Now she felt old. At twenty-six. She’d almost started to like him up to that point. Accepting him from Murph, she led him over to the car, pushed him down on the hood, and patted him down.

Who’s out there? Several men with shotguns, rifles, and anything else with a long barrel came charging out, all primed and ready to fire. The frenzied barks of several dogs grew louder.

SBI! Lower your weapons. Murph held his gun at the ready. Now, gentlemen. Drop them on the ground.

The men didn’t move from their aggressive stances. Hannah shoved the subject behind the car. If this got ugly, she didn’t want him in the line of fire. She snapped cuffs on the kid’s wrists and pushed him into the backseat before jumping up to join her partner, mimicking his stance.

For a tense moment no one moved. Or breathed. Or blinked. The air thickened between the sides, charging with unstable energy like the atmosphere before a big storm. The hairs lifted on the back of her neck as the realization set in. She might have to kill a man for the first time. Sweat beaded on her brow and trickled down her temples. Her heart raced, but she steadied. Holding a loaded weapon on a group of men pointing theirs right back was no time to let her nerves takes over.

The largest of the men lowered his rifle and nodded for the others to do the same. Once they did, he squared his shoulders and faced off against Murph. We don’t want any trouble.

Guess they shouldn’t have pulled guns on us, he muttered for her ears only. He then raised his voice. Move away from the weapons, gentlemen. That’s right. Nice and easy.

He kept his weapon leveled as he approached. When she followed he put his hand up. Stay with the kid. I got this.

Murph, there’re five of them.

His crooked grin curled one side of his lips. I know. Hardly seems fair, right?

She dismissed his arrogance and tombstone courage. Partners stayed together. Regardless whether he wanted her to, she had every intention of going with him. If he didn’t want her there out of some pointless act of chivalry, he chose a bad time to start showing it. She’d spent her entire life fighting the perception of being a fragile girl who should be seen, not heard.

I’m going with you.

Not up for discussion. These guys think of women as nothing more than baby makers and something traded to better their place in the cult. They won’t see you as an authority.

We’ll see about that. She stormed past him, marching with purpose until she stopped in front of the biggest man. He sported a mustache, whereas the others were clean-shaven. Intense eyes as dark as the moonless night stared down at her. He had on a wide-brimmed hat that covered the top of his inky black hair. The others wore similar hats, but this guy’s hat had a black band where the rest had no band at all.

Definitely the one in charge.

She had to yell to be heard over the dogs. "You want to tell