Visions of Hope

by Candace Murrow

  He filled a suitcase with a week's worth of clothes but hoped they wouldn't be gone that long. He shoved his bag in the Jeep and returned to the kitchen to give Jerry a call. After connecting with him, Kipp expected the first question.

  "How's the article coming?"

  "That's why I'm calling. I need more time."

  "Jesus, Kipp, I gave you a wide berth."

  "Something's come up regarding Kelly."

  "Your daughter? Did they find her?"

  "Let's just say I've got a good lead, and I'm going to need time to follow up on it."

  "You're putting me in a tough spot, but what kind of a friend would I be if I thought this article was more important than your daughter. I'll have to put something else in its place."

  "I'm sorry to do this to you."

  "I just hope you don't get your hopes dashed."

  "When this is over, I owe you big time."

  "Yeah, yeah."

  "I mean it, Jer. If this works out, I'll deliver a story that will be mind-boggling."

  "I didn't want a story about finding missing kids."

  "I promise, you'll be amazed. It'll be worth the wait."

  Jerry wished him good luck and grumbled a goodbye.

  The freeway was unusually light--no bumper-to-bumper traffic--and Kipp had time to focus his thoughts on the journey. A shimmer of doubt raced through him. What if it was a farce? What if everything Libby told him was a sham? What if Tanya was right and Libby would tell him whatever he wanted to hear? If that were true, why would she agree to go with him? Unless she was delusional. That notion brought him back to his early-on assessment, that Libby was a nutcase.

  Even though his inner critic nagged at him to turn around and forget the whole business, something deeper kept the Jeep moving in an easterly direction.

  He shook off the doubts and latched on to the possibility of finding Kelly. If nothing else, he could say he'd tried every avenue, turned over every stone, as Charlie had encouraged him to do. Plus, he'd gained a friendship with Libby, a woman he never would have considered in a million years.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 18

  Late Wednesday evening Kipp arrived in Salt Lake City into the arms of a brilliant sunset. Clouds laced with deep magenta flushed the heavens from the Wasatch to the Oquirrh mountains.

  Weary from the long day's drive, he gladly pulled into the parking lot of the Airport Hilton. The air was thin and dry compared to moisture-driven western Washington. He wasn't used to the drying effects of the low humidity. Thirstier than usual, he bought an extra bottle of spring water before turning in for the night.

  Due to a last-minute cancellation of one of the eighteen thousand attendees of the Outdoor Retailers Convention, he was lucky to have a room for the night. The hotel was only ten minutes from the heart of the city, and the next day he planned to stop at the police station to ask around.

  He got up early, ate breakfast, and checked out at nine. The clouds had dissipated overnight, and the sky capped the city in an indigo blue. Situated between mountain ranges, the Salt Lake City area sprawled for miles. He vowed to come back in the winter to take advantage of the ski season. Skiing had been a passion of his until his daughter disappeared.

  Libby hadn't told him to check with the police, but he thought it wouldn't hurt, so after he found a parking spot, he went into the building on South and asked to speak to a detective in the Special Victims unit.

  Detective Manning, a husky bald man with a crooked scar under his right eye, came to the counter. "What can I do for you?"

  "My name is Kipp Reed. I'm here from Washington State, looking for information about my daughter, Kelly."

  "A runaway?"

  Kipp removed a picture from his wallet and handed it to the detective. "She was kidnapped."

  The detective slipped on his reading glasses and examined the photo. "How many years?"

  "Two."

  "That's a pretty cold case. Do you have reason to believe she was brought here?"

  "Well, no."

  "The FBI involved?"

  "Yes, but they haven't found a trace."

  The detective studied the picture and repeated Kipp's last name, then looked at Kipp above the rim of his glasses. "Are you that reporter on TV?"

  "I'm a freelancer now."

  He returned the picture to Kipp. "You know, if the authorities can't find her, no one can. If she's in the system--"

  "You've had your share of abduction cases in the last two years."

  "There have been kids missing. The usual." Detective Manning eyed Kipp, his eyebrows coming together. "Just because we had that one high profile case, doesn't mean we have any more abductions than the rest of the country. This is a pretty family-oriented place. We pull together. Of course, there are some fanatical groups in the area, but they don't abduct kids. I'd say your best bet is to let the system do its work."

  Kipp realized this was leading him nowhere. "If it's all the same to you, Detective, I'll keep looking." He turned to leave.

  "Good luck, and sorry about your little girl."

  Kipp strode out of the building and sucked in a few deep breaths to shake off the detective's callous attitude. Two years might be a long time to the detective, but for Kipp, who spent every waking moment thinking about Kelly, the kidnapping was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday.

  In this sea of doubt, Libby would be a welcome contrast, but he had several hours to kill before her arrival, so he spent the time exploring Temple Square, including the Tabernacle with its grand pipe organ, and the Great Salt Lake with its vast waters and salt flats.

  By the time he'd parked the car in the airport parking lot, he was more than anxious to greet Libby. Two long days had increased his expectations about both the trip and his traveling companion.

  When he saw her from a distance, he wished he hadn't shown up in khakis and sandals, ragged from a day of sightseeing in the sweltering heat. Dressed in baby blue slacks, a matching jacket, and beige pumps, she looked as though she were about to step into a room full of business associates.

  Her smile threw him, and he was suddenly gripped by that giddy teenage feeling, accompanied by stomach flutters and the need to use his fingers as a comb to brush his windblown hair into place. Before he left, a haircut would have been wise.

  Libby was a jewel, glittering in the light. He couldn't help but return her smile. "I'm glad you're here." He kissed her cheek and hoped he hadn't overstepped the boundaries of their relationship, but she seemed to take the kiss in stride. "How was your flight?"

  "Too long for such a short distance. We had a stop in Portland. How was your drive?"

  "This has been the longest two days, waiting for you." Instantly, Kipp felt the flush of embarrassment. Every time he was in her presence, the words seemed to bypass his brain and rush out of his mouth. "Let's get your suitcase and head out."

  When they were seated in the car, Kipp slid the key into the ignition but held it steady. "I don't even know where to drive from here. We haven't discussed it. It's after five. Are you hungry?"

  "Not yet."

  "Do you want to get a hotel room?" He cringed. That question sounded too much like a proposition. Again, his brain was malfunctioning. "I mean, do you want to stay in the city tonight? I couldn't keep my room because of the convention in town, but it was only one room with one bed, and well, if I'd been thinking ahead..."

  "Let's head north. There are still a couple of hours of daylight left. Maybe we can find a place to eat on the way. And a motel."

  "Sounds good." Relieved she'd pulled him out of his miserable attempt at decision making, he started the car and drove from the parking terrace.

  He was about to turn north when Libby placed her hand on his arm. "Take me into the city."

  "Now? May I ask why?"

  Libby didn't reply.

  Great. No answer. He wondered why she'd want to waste the time. He begged for patience. "Anywhere in particular?"

  "Show me the sig
hts."

  He felt the heat of frustration rise, since they were now in the midst of the commuter traffic, but then he remembered who he was dealing with—a woman who knew more about life than he could ever fathom. He took a deep breath.

  As they approached Temple Square, she asked him to stop the car, and it took all the patience he could muster just to satisfy her request. He pulled over into a no-parking strip, at which time she closed her eyes. Meanwhile, Kipp scanned the streets for roving police cruisers. After what seemed like five minutes, she opened her eyes and directed him to drive north.

  He wanted to quiz her, but she was like a homing pigeon with her eyes alert to the streets ahead and her mouth pinched tight. He stayed quiet until they were well on their way northward. "What happened back there?"

  "I wanted to see if I could get any impressions around the Mormon temples. I felt drawn there."

  Wondering what he'd gotten himself into, Kipp prepared for an unpredictable ride.

  The sun, descending in the west, deepened the blue in the eastern sky and left traces of pink on wispy clouds.

  The traffic thinned out as he drove farther on, allowing him time to fiddle with the radio, but he found nothing of interest. He waited for Libby to make conversation. When none was forthcoming, he said, "Are you getting more vibes, or can we talk?"

  "Go ahead."

  "Can you tell me where we're going?"

  "I'm not exactly sure yet."

  Kipp gritted his teeth to stop from launching into a tirade about the trip being a stupid mistake. Libby was so organized, normally so sure of everything, and now she sounded as if she was lost at sea, and that did nothing for his confidence.

  Nearing the next small town, he exited the freeway and parked in front of the first restaurant he spotted. The building was badly in need of paint, had wooden steps and a red neon sign that buzzed on and off from an electrical short. He marched toward the entrance, leaving Libby to hurry after him.

  The room, cluttered and smelling of warmed-over cabbage, echoed with loud conversation and the twang of country coming from the jukebox. Kipp found a booth on the far wall. Libby scooted across from him. A middle-aged waitress, dressed in jeans and wearing an auburn wig slightly askew, slapped two menus on the table and walked off.

  Kipp gave Libby an apologetic look. "This is a dive. Do you want to go someplace else?"

  She studied the menu without answering him. When the waitress returned, she ordered a French dip sandwich and decaf. He ordered the same.

  Kipp shouted over the music. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you where you wanted to eat. I got a little impatient."

  "I could tell."

  "It's just that you're so quiet and mysterious about everything."

  "Maybe I'm a little--"

  The waitress shoved two cups of coffee in front of them and asked if they wanted cream or sugar. They both declined.

  Kipp watched her move on to the next table, then turned to Libby. "What were you saying?"

  "I said, maybe I'm--"

  A man stumbled by their booth, singing to the music. When Libby opened her mouth again, the music swelled to a crescendo.

  Kipp took out his wallet and left enough money to cover the tab. "Let's get out of here."

  In the car he asked her to finish what she was saying.

  "I said maybe I'm a little nervous about being in this situation with you."

  "That makes two of us," he said. "But you surprise me."

  "How so?"

  "You always come across like you have everything all together in your life."

  "Not in a situation like this."

  "I thought you had experience looking for missing persons."

  "Yes, but I don't have experience driving around the country with a man I barely know."

  Kipp laughed.

  "What's so funny?"

  "I'm glad that's out in the open because I'm just as nervous as you are. I mean, I don't know what I'm doing following you to who-knows-where. I feel like I've somehow lost my mind."

  "You might feel that way when I tell you how this came to be, my being here with you."

  "Tell me."

  "Later. Let's find a place to eat and sleep for the night."

  Along the highway Kipp spotted a red motel sign and took the appropriate turn. The closer he came to the one-story motel, he realized it was a place to park for the night on the way to someplace else, second-rate at best. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and decided not to be choosey. He pulled into one of the two empty parking spaces. "Doesn't look too promising. I'll run in and see what they've got."

  He returned with a desperate look on his face. "They have one room left, two beds." Libby didn't respond, and he took the initiative. "It's the end of the summer. People are traveling, and I doubt if we'll find anything else." She wasn't smiling, and he hoped she didn't think he was trying to force her into a compromising position. "You take the room, and I'll sleep in the car."

  "There's no need to do that," she blurted. "We can manage."

  Kipp checked them in and carried their bags to a room in the middle of the complex. Libby unlocked the door.

  The two beds took up the better part of the room. The full impact of spending the night in the same space with a woman like Libby gave him a start, and he wondered how the hell they were going to manage. At least the room was clean.

  "I saw a coffee shop across the street," he said. "How about something to eat?" That should delay the inevitable.

  "I could use a sandwich, but could we order out?"

  "Sure. I'll go. What would you like?"

  "Turkey or tuna. And decaf."

  Kipp left the musty-smelling room, happy to get some fresh air and to clear his head. How the hell were they going to manage, the two of them in one room? The dry, unrelenting wind nearly swept him across the street to the little cafe.

  Back at the motel, he heard sharp, angry voices coming from the room two doors down from them and people laughing from the room next door. He searched for the key with one hand and juggled the sacks with the other, trying to keep from spilling the coffee.

  The door burst open with Libby standing there like a vision. He must have stared at her for a full minute, thinking how attractive she was, before he managed to tame his thoughts and pay attention to getting the food to the tiny round table in the middle of the room.

  He sorted the sandwiches and presented her with a Styrofoam cup. "No cream or sugar, right?"

  "You remembered."

  A feeling of pride washed over him, like a boy impressing his first date.

  She unwrapped her sandwich and announced, "This is a BLT."

  Pride turned to embarrassment. "It was turkey, wasn't it? I'll go back and get you another one."

  "No, no. This is fine." She opened the sandwich and set the bacon aside.

  "I'll go back."

  "Sit down. There's something I want to tell you."

  The razor-edge of her voice turned Kipp's attention to why they were here. "Is it about Kelly?"

  "Indirectly. I want to explain why I changed my mind and decided to come with you."

  He held his coffee cup and sat down.

  "Do you remember the visions you had?"

  "How could I forget?"

  "Well, I've had visions, too. I had them two months before I met you. I didn't know what they were trying to tell me until a few nights ago. It wasn't clear before. Someone was trying to come through the veil to give me a message. A woman finally appeared to me. The message was about you."

  Kipp leaned back and gazed at Libby. He knew she was waiting for a reaction, but all he could think of was what a bizarre situation he'd found himself in.

  Libby continued, "After you left my home, the last time I saw you, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw the form of a woman, an older woman with silver hair and glasses with large, round rims. Her nose was crooked, as if it had been broken at one time."

  "Wait a minute."

  "In a car acciden
t."

  "Just hold on, okay?"

  "She told me to help you. She's--"

  Kipp slammed his palm on the table to get her attention. "Now, Libby, just hold on, will you? How much of this do you think I can take?"

  "She's your grandmother, isn't she?"

  "I don't know. I suppose."

  "I told you in the beginning we all have guides, sometimes people who have passed over."

  "Yes, you told me all that, but if that's true, why didn't she come to me?"

  "I was the one who needed convincing. It was urgent that I come with you."

  "What do you mean urgent? You said over the phone we couldn't waste time. What does that mean?"

  "I don't know yet, but I'm sure we'll find out."

  "I don't like that answer."

  "You have to trust me on this."

  "That's not my forte. I like to know what I'm getting into."

  "Sometimes you have to go out on a limb, step into the unknown, take a risk to find the answers."

  "You don't have to tell me about taking risks. I've done that all my life. I've been all over the world."

  "And haven't you ever felt like you were out on a limb?"

  "All the time."

  "Well, why not this time? What's the difference?"

  "You. I've never been with anyone like you." His voice caught, and he felt compelled to clarify the words that just stumbled out of his mouth. "I mean, it's the way you are. One minute you know so much, and the next minute you trust some unknown, I don't know what you call it, to lead you on. Does anything I'm saying make sense?"

  "That unknown force is called intuition, guidance, and there is always timing involved."

  "What do you mean?"

  "It's called being in the flow of life. You let your feelings or instincts lead you from one moment to the next."

  Kipp shifted in his chair.

  "If an opportunity comes up, and it feels right, you go for it. If it doesn't, something else will come along when the time is right. You trust it."

  "What does this have to do with finding my daughter?"

  "There are some things that might confuse us or panic us if we knew them too soon. So, we relax and let the information come through in its own time."