"Did I tell you how good you look?"
"You never do, so why start now?" She expected him to hurl a sarcastic remark back to her, but his smile remained tacked to his face. When the waitress brought the two glasses of wine, Ellen drained half her glass.
Mel brought up the subject of the children, and they spent most of the meal discussing their education and their future.
When the conversation waned, with two glasses of wine under her belt, Ellen decided to steer the subject in a more pointed direction. "So, why are you really here, Mel?"
"If you're going to be that blunt about it, I miss you, and I want you to come home."
Ellen scrutinized his expression, watching for down-turned eyes, hoping to catch him in a lie, but he met her gaze straight on. "You want me back? What about your secretary?"
"Jackie? She's history. She never meant anything to me."
"Just like the others?"
"Come on, Ellen. Why spoil our evening by rehashing the past."
"Because the past could be the future," she said. "Unless you've changed, I can't trust you'll never do it again."
"Now, honey, I have changed. Since you've been gone, I've been miserable without you. Let me prove it to you."
"I don't know if I want to go through that again," she said. "I'll always be wondering if you're going to come home at night. And what about the traveling you do? How can I trust you'll be faithful when you're away?"
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small, black box with a gold bow on top. "Here, open it."
A flurry of feelings bombarded her. He never bought her gifts. She hesitated, as if opening the box would somehow decide her fate. She gasped at the sight of a pair of diamond earrings. "What's this for?"
"Can't a husband buy his wife a gift?"
"One gift in twenty years of marriage?"
"I've given you gifts."
"Yeah, like the time you brought home a frozen turkey you won in a raffle?"
"Oh, now, Ellen, let's just say this is how serious I am about having you home."
The waitress brought the check, and when she came back to deliver his credit card, he winked at the woman--a gesture not lost on Ellen.
He talked about his job all the way to the house, and she listened with the thrill of being with Charlie sneaking into her thoughts now and then.
Mel walked her to the door and embraced her, filling her with the musky scent of his aftershave. In the glare of the porch light, she noticed the spidery veins around his nose, an indication of too many martini lunches.
He kissed her harder than she expected, and she instinctively ducked her head back and away. He seemed bent on bringing her around to his satisfaction by putting his hand behind her head and drawing her into another kiss. Taken aback by her unexpected feelings for him, she didn't resist.
He stroked the back of her neck. "That's my girl. Now, why don't you let me stay the night?"
"I don't know, Mel. You're getting me all confused."
"We can talk about it in bed. Come on, open the door." He patted her rear, nudging her forward.
"Wait a minute. I need to think about this."
"What's to think about? I'm your husband. Come on now, open up."
While she was searching for her keys, he was running his hand over her breasts and nuzzling and kissing her neck. Flustered, she dropped her purse. When she bent over, he gave her rear a hard squeeze.
She jolted upright and aimed her purse at his midsection. "I think you better go home."
"I was just having a little fun. I won't do it again." He saluted like a boy scout. "Promise. Now, are you going to open the door?"
Ellen froze, unable to decide what to do.
"Look, Ellen, you don't want to be responsible for breaking up the family, do you? The kids will hate you down the road."
She despised it when he brought up the kids that way. Here he was, making her feel guilty, but about what, breaking up the family or not wanting to have sex? Confusion reigned again. She found her keys and shook her head no. "I need more time. You better go home."
"Come on, Ellen. I'm sorry."
"I said no."
He took a step forward, hesitated, took a step back. "Just think about what you're doing."
When he was off the porch, she rustled her keys and opened the door. Safely inside, she waited until she heard the rumble of his car fade away. She sat in Libby's rocking chair under the light she'd left on and prepared for a long, confusing night.
She opened the gift box and stared at the earrings. Maybe she had been too hard on him. After all, he was the children's father. She had discovered tonight the attraction was still there, God only knew why. But what about Charlie? She certainly had feelings for him. It was just that she and Mel had a history, and she wondered whether or not that history could ever be erased.
The phone startled her. She picked up and heard Charlie asking her if this was a bad time.
"If you call interrupting a confused woman a bad time, I guess it is. But maybe I need some help."
"Do you want me to come over?"
Having his arms around her was a welcome thought, but she didn't voice it. "I don't think that would be a good idea right now. I'm worn out."
"Should I hang up, or do you want to talk?"
"I'll talk, but I might sound like a babbling idiot. It's been a long night."
"How'd it go?"
"He wants me to come home."
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know. He gave me diamond earrings."
"That's a good reason to go back."
"It's just that he never did that before. He told me I look good, too."
"What else did he do?"
"He promised not to fool around anymore."
"And..."
"And, what?"
"What else did he do?"
"I don't know. He kissed me. He hasn't done that in a while."
"Anything else?"
"You're sounding like a cop giving me the third degree."
"Did he want to jump your bones?"
"Charlie..."
"You want to know what I think?"
"Yeah, I want to know what the judge and jury have to say about it."
"I think he's schmoozing you. I think he'll say and do anything to make you go back, and once you're there, all the old habits will return. He'll be tomcatting around."
"Well, aren't you a know-it-all cop; how do you know that?"
"Did he tell you he loved you?"
That one question hit her in the gut like a wrecking ball, and she had to shift her weight to steady herself.
"He didn't, did he?"
There was a long pause.
"Ellen, don't go back to someone who doesn't love you. I've been there, and it's not worth it."
Another pause.
"I'm going to hang up and let you get some rest."
She cleared her throat. "Maybe you could come over."
"Naw. I think you should take the rest of the weekend to think things over."
"Can I call you?"
"I'm going to be in and out. I've got a lot of work to do."
"Will I hear from you again?"
"Think things over for a while, Ellen," he said. "Think about your family, and Mel. You need to clear your head. Think about what you want in life. Then think about us and what a good thing we could have. I'll be around. Bye, darlin'."
Didn't he have a way with words? Everything was so simple to him. That's what being a year away from divorce could do for a person.
She toyed with the idea of calling Libby. If ever there was a time she could use Libby's advice, it was now, but Kipp and Libby had their own challenges, and Ellen was determined to figure this out on her own.
* * *
CHAPTER 25
Until now, Kipp believed he would never see his daughter again, but having an inkling of hope stirred up all the old feelings, all those teeter-totter emotions that had been narrowed into numbness.
They had stayed up late the night before, planning the next day, until Libby finally lay down and pulled the bedspread over her body. He offered to leave the room and allow her to dress for bed, but she refused. He was at a loss over her stubbornness, but he went along with her modesty.
He had turned the TV on low and pretended to show interest, but his eyes glazed over and his thoughts drifted to Kelly. If only they could go to the authorities and demand assistance, but not knowing for sure if the little girl in question was his daughter presented a problem. All they had to go on was Libby's hunch and the statement of a sixteen-year-old runaway with her own grudges against the community. Then there was the matter of time; it would take too long to get to the right people. Going it alone seemed the only possibility. Besides, he preferred being in control of the situation.
He longed to have his daughter in his arms. When he imagined it, he could almost feel the weight of her tiny body against the crook of his elbow. It had to be her. It had to be.
The Jeep's tires hit a rough spot in the road, and the jolt brought Kipp into the present. He blinked his eyes to hold back the tears. They had picked up Rebecca and were on their way to Grand.
The clock on the dashboard read 7:30. Libby and Rebecca were engaged in conversation. Libby had turned so she could see Rebecca from the front seat. It was beginning to be hard for him to keep his eyes off Libby. If she was right and Kelly was in that community, he owed her everything. When he heard a voice, directed at him, he snapped out of his rambling thoughts.
"When we get there," Libby said, "are you sure I shouldn't go with you?"
"I'd rather you stay in the car," he said. "If something happens...say, we don't get back by nine-thirty, you can get help." He glanced at her sandals. "Besides you don't have the right shoes to be traipsing over this terrain."
They crested the hill that reached down into the valley, and Kipp pulled over on the shoulder to get his bearings. The mountains were shrouded in darkness. Lights from the town below littered the landscape.
Rebecca indicated the side road was about halfway down the hill. He waited for a car he saw in the rearview mirror to pass by, then swung back onto the highway. Rebecca scooted forward in her seat. Libby asked her if she was afraid, but she stared ahead without answering.
At Rebecca's insistence Kipp slowed down, pulled off the main arterial, and inched along the shoulder. He stopped to inspect the area with a flashlight, so he would know where to turn. In the dim light the road was hardly visible to the naked eye. He got back in the car, veered right, and followed the narrow dirt road until it ended near a clump of aspens. He backed the Jeep around, pointed it toward the highway, and killed the engine and headlights.
Libby stopped him from springing from the Jeep. "Kipp, please be careful and don't do anything to endanger yourself or Rebecca."
He knew Libby well enough to understand a warning from her was serious. "What are you feeling, Libby?"
She placed a hand over his heart. "You'll need to be swift in your decisions. I sense there won't be time to waste. I can't help but feel danger around you. Please be careful."
Kipp and Rebecca got out of the Jeep. Except for the sound of an occasional car speeding by on the highway, the night was still. The wind had died down to a breeze.
The sun was already behind the hills, and the temperature had dipped lower. Kipp grabbed a light jacket from the backseat, but with the moon lighting up the inside of the car, he noticed Libby hugging her arms to her body. He handed her his jacket and keys. In return, she gave him the flashlight that he had set on the dashboard.
She held out her hand to him, and for a moment they stayed connected. "Good luck," she said. "I sense you'll find your fulfillment." He squeezed her hand once again and closed the car door.
Rebecca waited for him near the trees and directed him through a small opening, undetectable to anyone who didn't know it was there. To be cautious, they had decided beforehand not to converse with each other. He would have been distracted anyway.
As soon as they started down the narrow dirt path, Kipp shined the flashlight in front of them. Its beam was less than adequate, and they had to rely on the moon to fill the gaps. Shadows, cast by the tree limbs, gave the impression there were rocks and twigs where there were none. Then Rebecca took the lead, her movements swift, and twice she tripped over branches in her path. Kipp dodged the shadows and followed close behind.
Somewhere in the brush was a rustling sound. Kipp grabbed Rebecca's arm, put a finger to his lips. They waited, listened. The rustling started up again, but nothing darted out of the shadows. Rebecca whispered, "A critter." Kipp nodded. Rebecca moved on, keeping the lead down the snake-like path through a maze of aspens.
The air was cool on Kipp's exposed skin, but his forehead and armpits were littered with moisture, his nerves on edge.
Farther along, Rebecca stumbled over a rock and fell forward. As Kipp helped her to her feet, he heard sounds coming from the rear. He nudged Rebecca off the trail. She stood so close to him her fear was palpable and contagious. He worked at containing his quickening breath.
The wind had picked up, sending a whistling through the thicket and the creaking of tree branches rubbing together. The air calmed. The unsettling sounds subsided.
They moved on, but Kipp, plagued by having second thoughts about abandoning Libby, kept his senses attuned to the woods behind him.
Edging closer to their target, Rebecca stopped and pointed ahead through the trees to the lights flickering. Kipp's thoughts shifted forward to the task at hand.
As they approached the end of the path, they slowed their pace. One hundred feet ahead, the light from the nearest building stood out like a beacon.
A strange feeling crept over Kipp. He didn't know how he knew it, but he would have bet everything he owned that his daughter, the light of his life, was inside. Then, with the prospect of what or whom they might be confronted with, he experienced a sharp jab in his gut.
The building was long and concealed the other buildings in the complex. After scouting the area, Rebecca, as planned, sneaked up to the back entrance, climbed the steps, and peeked in the side window. She waved at Kipp, then rapped on the door.
The door opened a crack and a shaft of light from inside illuminated Rebecca's body. Her hair, tied in a ponytail, hung down her back. She spoke to the person at the door and was allowed entry.
Out of sight among the trees, Kipp kept watch on the door, his body tensed with adrenalin, his teeth grinding, his fists clenched. The minutes hounded him like a nagging ache. He thought he could stand to wait for Rebecca to bring out the girl they called Sarah, but the longer he waited, the more agitated he became, and his body screamed for action. All it took was the faint sound of children's voices to spur him across the field. He charged his way inside.
Upon seeing Kipp, the young attendant, in long dress and braids, trembled all over. She started to squeal and Kipp panicked. He grabbed her around the waist, put a hand over her mouth, and assured her he wouldn't harm her. Out of pure fear, she stayed perfectly still.
From what he could tell, he was in some kind of waiting area. Wooden chairs were lined up along the bare white walls. Tiny voices drifted in from the next room.
He was holding the girl, wondering what his next move would be, when Rebecca appeared, holding the hand of a six-year-old child with blond braids in an ankle-length dress. Rebecca froze, eyes wide. Kipp's entering the building was not in the plan.
He ignored her and studied the face of the small child with the flaxen hair. Childhood pictures of Tanya crowded his memory; this little girl was the spitting image of his ex-wife.
His arms went limp. His only thought was to embrace his daughter. He rushed to her side and fell to his knees. She scurried behind Rebecca. He wanted to reach for her, but her withdrawal had stunned him into realizing he'd frightened her. He had expected her to run into his arms, but the reality of the situation was she did not know him.
R
ebecca jabbed his shoulder with her finger and pointed to the open door. The teenager had vanished.
Peering out a window into the complex, he saw light streaming out of another building and outlines of people swarming into the night. By now the children in the adjoining area were flooding into the room.
Kipp glanced from the window to the children and quickly handed the flashlight to Rebecca, scooped up the little girl, who began to cry, and ran out the back door. He charged across the field and into the woods with Rebecca trailing behind.
With only the moon to light his way, he prayed he would stay upright. The child whimpered in his ear, and it pained him to have to frighten her this way, but he had no choice. He held her close and took long strides, his breathing labored.
Halfway to the car, he stopped and turned around to check on Rebecca. Panic swelled inside. He couldn't see her, but then he heard crackling sounds, as if sticks and twigs were being trampled on. He scanned the area behind him and saw her shadowed form scrambling to get up off the ground. He ran back to give her a hand and heard muffled voices from the direction of the complex. He took off running again, but not for long.
Rebecca caught up to him and tugged his arm. They both stopped cold. In the distance was the dark form of someone coming toward them. Voices loomed behind them. They were trapped.
The little girl wept. He held her close, but his lungs were tight and raw from gulping the cool air and running with the weight of the child.
Rebecca aimed the flashlight forward. Libby ran up to them, her mouth open, her chest heaving. "There's a man coming this way," she said between staggered breaths. "I saw his flashlight. He came from the highway. He's following me. He's not far behind."
The adrenalin in Kipp's body shot through him like speed. He handed off the child to Libby. He grabbed the flashlight from Rebecca. He ordered them to hide in the shadowed thicket behind the trees. He leaped off the trail, clear of the moon's path, and hunkered down.
The thump of footsteps grew louder. The beam from the man's flashlight grew stronger. When the man was nearly upon him, Kipp lunged forward, knocking him off balance. He doubled over, and Kipp smacked his head with the flashlight. The man slumped to the ground.
Visions of Hope Page 18
