“Do you realize you could’ve been killed?” Matt asked.
“I—I’m doing my job. I was following a lead for a story. I just wanted to see what I could find out,” Rachel said.
Matt’s heart beat faster with each word she spoke. He raked his hand through his hair and stared at her. “You should’ve called me right away and told me about this. I warned you about the danger. Whoever shot these guys was shooting at you, too.”
Even in the dim light he could see the fear that flashed in her eyes before she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “He was firing at you, too,” she said.
“His aim would’ve been better if he’d intended to hit me.”
Rachel nodded. “He probably could have hit me, too, if he’d really wanted to kill me. Why do you think he did that?”
Matt shrugged. “Probably just wanted to scare us.”
Well, the shooter had accomplished that much.
SANDRA ROBBINS,
a former teacher and principal in the Tennessee public schools, is a full-time writer for the Christian market. She is married to her college sweetheart, and they have four children and five grandchildren. As a child, Sandra accepted Jesus as her Savior and has depended on Him to guide her throughout her life.
While working as a principal, Sandra came in contact with many individuals who were so burdened with problems that they found it difficult to function in their everyday lives. Her writing ministry grew out of the need for hope that she saw in the lives of those around her.
It is her prayer that God will use her words to plant seeds of hope in the lives of her readers. Her greatest desire is that many will come to know the peace she draws from her life verse, Isaiah 40:31— “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
Yuletide Defender
Sandra Robbins
And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, hast not forsaken them that seek thee.
—Psalms 9:10
To Kristi, Marti, Stacey and Scott
The joy you bring me makes every day seem like Christmas.
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
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
LETTER TO READER
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
ONE
Arriving at a murder scene before breakfast wasn’t Rachel Long’s idea of a good way to start the day.
She leaned against the lamppost at the corner of Ninth and Perkins and pulled her coat tighter. The December wind that whistled around the deserted storefronts and run-down apartment buildings lining the street sent a shiver down her spine. Unlike other neighborhoods in Lake City, there were no holiday decorations anywhere in sight. In fact, nothing about her surroundings gave a hint that Christmas was only a few weeks away.
A young man’s lifeless body sprawled twenty feet away spoke volumes about what life was like in this part of the city. Several uniformed policemen stood to the side as crime scene investigators gathered their evidence.
Her stomach rumbled and she pressed her hand against her abdomen to suppress the hunger pains. Coffee would have to come later. As chief investigative reporter for the Lake City Daily Beacon, her job was to cover the news.
One of the policemen backed away, and Rachel caught sight of the victim’s leg twisted underneath him. She made a quick note in her journal of his white canvas tennis shoe with a five-pointed star on the side—one of the identifying marks of the Vipers, the gang that boasted control of this neighborhood.
She pursed her lips and tried to mentally recall how many gang-related deaths she’d reported in the past two months. Four? No, five. This one made the sixth victim.
A car pulled to a stop across the street and Detective Matt Franklin stepped out from the driver’s side. He tugged at the cuffs of a white shirt and they slipped over his wrists from underneath the sleeves of his navy blazer. Even this early in the morning he looked like he belonged in a fashion magazine spread. The wind ruffled his brown hair. He smoothed it into place as he waited for the man who climbed from the passenger side of the car.
“Matt,” Rachel called out.
He stopped in the middle of the street and glanced around. Catching sight of her, he turned and walked toward her. The corners of his eyes crinkled with a smile. He stopped in front of her and tilted his head to one side. “Rachel, how did you find out about this so quickly?”
“My scanner.” She glanced toward the group examining the body. “Another gang killing?”
He sighed and nodded. “Looks like it.”
“I noticed the boy’s tennis shoes. He’s a member of the Vipers. Do you think this is the work of the Rangers?”
Matt shrugged. “It’s too early to know. Some in the department think the Vipers from the north side of the city and the Rangers from the south have decided to declare open war on each other. But so far neither gang is talking.”
“May I quote you on that?”
“You probably would even if I said no.” His mouth curved into the lopsided smile she’d
