by Trout, Linda
As he’d carried her away from the grave, he tried not to think about how good she felt or how she smelled all clean and crisp. Once again, he shoved the image out of his mind and jerked his thoughts back to the present. She sat quietly, obviously waiting for him to continue.
“What happened the day your baby went missing?”
Briefly she closed her eyes, and when she looked at him, pain radiating from them. “It’s etched on my brain. I lost my world that day.”
She stared toward the pantry a few moments, as if looking into the past, then lowered her gaze. “We came back here after the services. The mayor, everyone, came to pay their respects. Nana was watching Kaycee. Later, when the crowd thinned, I went to check on her. She’d been asleep so Nana had come down to get some food. That’s when I discovered Kaycee gone.”
She’d said the words in a monotone, as if they’d been memorized, but when she looked at him, her face was haunted, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“You didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary or anyone who shouldn’t have been here?”
She slowly blinked. Color tinged her cheeks. “Besides the caterers, everyone dressed in black and the overpowering fragrance of a dozen flower arrangements with ‘In Sympathy’ on the ribbons, no, there wasn’t a single thing out of the ordinary about the day.” Her voice rose with each word.
Morgan winced, yet refused to concede how big of an ass he was being. Instead, he nodded as if her response was perfectly normal. Under similar circumstances, he doubted he would’ve been as civil.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
Her lips formed a little O before she settled her expression into a shield. Presumably to block him out. Except he wasn’t going anywhere. Not yet.
“Did you question your grandmother regarding the baby’s whereabouts? Or did you call the police right away? Who helped you search the house? Who left the premises as fast as they could?” Somewhere in the mix, she’d slip up, if indeed she had anything to do with the child’s disappearance. If she wasn’t involved, then he’d deal with that later.
“I—I don’t know who left or when. I ran to the nursery, but when she wasn’t there I rushed back downstairs. I—I remember pushing through the crowd crying her name. People stared at me like they thought I’d had a nervous breakdown, some grabbed my arm, but I shook them off. I didn’t know which way to turn. Everybody in the room seemed to be looking at me so if one of them had Kaycee, I guess they could’ve slipped out unnoticed.” Realization dawned on her. “Oh, Lord. Did I help the person leave here with my child?”
Her breathing shallow, she chewed on her bottom lip. Trembling, she climbed back on the same barstool she’d occupied earlier.
Was she faking it? Not that he could discern. Morgan was willing to bet if he took her pulse right now, it’d be off the charts. “What happened then?” Deliberately, his voice held a touch of steel. He didn’t want her to think he was sympathetic, even though he felt her pain.
More than she could imagine.
Horror etched her face. “I—I didn’t think. I didn’t stop anyone from leaving. I don’t even know who was here and who wasn’t when I finally called the police.” Chin quivering; her breath came in shallow puffs. But she didn’t cry.
Despite his resolve, the vulnerable woman got to him. He softened his tone. “More than likely, the person who took your baby was already gone before you discovered her missing. Did the police question the people present? Maybe one of them saw someone suspicious who would give them a lead.”
She shook her head. “Most were gone by the time the officers arrived and I didn’t think to ask them to stay.” She paused. “That was wrong, wasn’t it?”
He lifted one corner of his mouth in response. The average citizen usually aided a perpetrator by their actions, or as in most cases, inactions. Didn’t seem like this was any exception. She fisted both hands against her temples and stared at the countertop several moments in silence. Morgan could wait. He was good at waiting.
Finally, she drew a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and looked up. He continued to draw out the silence, giving her another minute to collect herself. However, she looked as if she’d recovered her composure quite easily.
Morgan gave her credit for holding it together. He couldn’t stop, though. “Was Jason your first love?” That didn’t have anything to do with the investigation. For selfish reasons, he just wanted to know. Besides, it’d take her mind off the missing kid.
It took only a couple of seconds for her to shift gears from the baby’s disappearance. Heat flared in her eyes. “Is it relevant?”
Morgan quirked an eyebrow. “Should it be?”
She glared a moment, rolled her shoulders, then went back to pulverizing what was left on her plate. “You married?” She didn’t glance up.
“No.”
“Why not?” This time, she did look at him accusingly.
Seconds ticked by as her question hit a tender spot. The fact he never had time for a social life was beside the point. Most women weren’t interested in always being alone, or dealing with his quiet and sullen demeanor. Not living up to others’ expectations had always been his bane. Right now he didn’t care what this particular woman thought or expected of him.
“Do I look like the marrying kind?”
She studied him critically, then lifted her lips in a smirk. “Now that you mention it, no. In fact, any smart woman would run the other way if she saw you coming.”
He should have been offended, but wasn’t. Despite his efforts to remain stoic, he found himself grinning in return. “Yeah, for some reason, women don’t like me too much.” He took a sip of the weak coffee, regarding her over the rim. “Think I’m too big a bastard.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Can’t argue with facts.”
Getting him to smile wasn’t the easiest thing, but she did. And for the first time in quite a while it was genuine, not the fake one he used so often when around strangers. Sometimes, even his friends.
“Were you and your husband having any problems in your marriage?”
Her grin faded. Slowly she slid off the stool. “I think it’s time you left, Mr. Daniels.
He didn’t move. Could the perfect marriage they presented to the public be just a sham? He knew firsthand horrific secrets were kept by those you least suspected.
“What kind of company did your husband own?” He knew perfectly well what the company did, but wanted to see how much information she’d give him.
She took her time answering, probably to just get rid of him. Couldn’t blame her there.
“It’s a medical claims insurance company.”
“Doing well?” He took another sip of the now cold coffee, acting as if they were having a nice social chat instead of him interrogating her.
She crossed her arms over her chest, but leaned against the counter, as if to steady herself. “Is that any of your business?”
“He had the controlling interest in a multi-million dollar company, I assume.”
Except for slightly widened eyes, her face remained impassive. Her breathing, however, had increased in rate.
“And that interest now belongs to you.” He deliberately paused. “Correct?”
“You will leave my home. Now!”
Hmm. I think I hit the sore spot I’d been looking for. Finally, he relented and stood.
Laying his card on the bar, he said, “If you think of anything, give me a call. I know you’d like to get this wrapped up as soon as possible.”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she headed toward the front door. Once again, Morgan trailed behind her. As he stepped outside the house, a tall, extremely well built, short-haired redhead strolled up the path wearing six inch heels and a swishy skirt in bright colors. Just his type. Except the sight of her didn’t affect him like it normally would have.
“Cat? Were we meeting today?” Sara asked, her tone still frosty.
The woman eyed Morgan suspiciously before
drawing her attention back to Sara. “No. I just thought it’d be fun to go to the spa and be pampered for a while. You need to get out of this house every now and then, you know.”
“Care to introduce us?” Morgan deliberately stayed next to Sara, not giving her any private space.
She glared at him a minute, then turned to the other woman. “Catherine Walker, this is Morgan Daniels…who is just leaving.”
Ms. Walker eyed him up and down, then took a step closer to Sara. “Mrs. Adams, you have my card.” He headed down the walk, listening for when the two women went inside, the door closing with a resounding thud.
Rounding the SUV, he saw a cherry red 1956 T-bird convertible with the top down. The car was in mint condition, Catherine Walker’s car. He could easily see the redhead sitting behind the wheel.
At the beginning of the day, he’d had high hopes that some answers would be forthcoming. With the added issue of a baby in the grave, all he had were more questions. Perhaps after the autopsies they’d have confirmation of an actual heart attack or if there was another cause of the husband’s death, as well as the baby’s. Would they find any connection to Andy’s death? The way his luck was going, he doubted it.
****
Sara all but slammed the door, as much out of frustration as to make a point. For a brief moment she leaned her forehead on the cool wood. She’d thought once Morgan left, she’d be able to let her guard down and have that much needed meltdown. But telling Cat to leave would hurt her feelings. Straightening, she turned to her friend.
“He’s cute, in a way. He didn’t look like a repairman, so who is he?”
Leave it to Cat to get right to the point. “Can we sit down?” Sara avoided touching her friend, afraid the physical contact would dissolve the thin barrier that kept her from falling apart. Gravitating to the chair in the drawing room where she’d left Kaycee’s stuffed rabbit, she slid off her shoes, curled her feet beneath her and hugged the toy.
Cat plopped on the end of the sofa, silently listening as Sara filled her in on the morning’s events. As soon as she’d finished the tale, Cat jumped up, pulling Sara to her feet, giving her a tight hug. She hadn’t realized until then just how much she’d needed the support of her friend. Guilt threatened to overwhelm her for wanting solitude. Suddenly the thought of being alone depressed her. If anyone would understand the turmoil and heartbreak ripping through her, Cat would. Swamped by emotion, her whole body trembled. She hated showing vulnerability, even to Cat, so she stepped back. “Sorry about that.”
“What do you have to be sorry about? Good grief. It’s been a horrible day so I’d say you have every right.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Come on. I need something to drink.” Cat looped her arm through Sara’s and tugged her toward the kitchen.
“How do you, or did you, manage to do it?”
“Do what?”
Sara paused, pulling away, trying to judge her friend. This wasn’t a subject they’d touched on a lot. Not outside of therapy, anyway. And Cat had never been totally open with her past. However, all the wind had gone out of Sara and she desperately needed hope. Needed strength.
“Survive.”
Cat’s expression became dark—pensive. Initially, her body went rigid, then she relaxed as she climbed onto her usual bar stool, which wasn’t the one Morgan had sat on, thank goodness. “You gonna fix me a drink or what?” She scrunched up her face.
“Coming right up.” Now this was the Cat she’d come to know. She filled the tea kettle and set it on the huge range, pulled two delicate tea cups out of the cupboard and dropped bags into each.
As she faced her friend, she said, “I suppose it’s my turn. You okay?”
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Cat looked up to meet her gaze.
She wanted to hug her friend, but gave her space instead. “Yeah. Now, do you have any advice for me?”
Cat was quiet so long Sara didn’t think she would answer.
Finally, she said, “You do whatever you have to do to get through it. No matter what it takes, you suck it up. In my case—getting the hell out. In yours—hanging in there.”
“Guess there’s a lot of difference between our two situations, huh?”
Cat gave a slight nod. “You can say that again. You actually had a loving husband who cherished you.”
What would her friend think if she knew the whole truth?
“But me? Shoot, he had me so far under his thumb it wasn’t funny. I couldn’t even go pee without his permission, much less have any kind of life.” The gloom surrounding her dissipated and a gleam twinkled in her eye. “That sure changed after my last trip to the hospital, didn’t it?”
She smiled. “Yes. If he hadn’t been blown away by a tornado, the police would’ve arrested him. It was nice Mother Nature took care of him for you and saved the state the expense. Plus, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
The kettle began a low, soft whistle. Sara pushed off from the counter she’d been leaning against and poured the steamy liquid into the cups. They took their tea and automatically headed down the hall side by side, each lost in their own thoughts.
Light streamed into the sunroom, the one place in the house that hadn’t been sterilized to the point of boring—and her refuge. Sara spent most of her time here, among the multitude of plants and flowers. The two women sat in comfortable silence; Sara in an overstuffed chair and Cat on the matching loveseat.
Finally Cat set her cup and the saucer on the small table next to her. “’Bet this isn’t how you had the day planned, is it?”
“Not hardly.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. Yes…maybe.” Studying her friend, Sara didn’t see any sympathy or pity, or even curiosity—simply quiet understanding. She was giving Sara a shoulder to cry on if needed. Typical Catherine. The woman had been through a meat grinder herself, which made her easy to confide in.
“It all started with an awful phone call yesterday. I was so rattled I didn’t even think to call you.”
“Without your best friend by your side to hold your hand and get you through it, what’d you do?” She pouted her lips for emphasis.
“Well, what any normal red-blooded female would do, of course. I had a pity party.”
Reaching over to pat her hand, Cat said, “Good woman. Was alcohol involved?”
“Of course. A good chunk of a Cabernet, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh, man. Now I really am jealous. You should’ve called me.”
Sara sobered. “I know, but it was something I had to deal with myself.”
They lapsed into another comfortable silence.
“I was just thinking.”
“You know you get in trouble when you do that.” Sara attempted to recapture the lighter tone they’d had earlier. She needed some light in her life right now, more than Cat could imagine.
“Smart aleck.” Cat scrunched up her nose. “Actually, I was thinking a long hot sauna might feel really good right about now. Want to go?”
She gave her a weak smile. “Not today. It’s a nice thought, though.”
Cat concentrated on a loose thread on the throw pillow before leveling her gaze on Sara. “You can’t assume its Kaycee. They don’t know anything yet.”
Sara bit her bottom lip. “True. But she’s been gone so long—with no sign of her. Not even the private investigators I hired found anything. What if…what if it is her? What’ll I do?” A sob formed in her chest, clogging her throat.
Cat threw her feet to the floor, leaned forward, and stared her straight in the eye. “You’ll do what you have to do, Sara Adams. If it’s Kaycee, then it’s her. If not, then you go on looking. You do not give up! Not until you know for sure. Understand?”
Sara blinked her burning eyes. She swallowed to get her voice. “Got it.” That’s why she liked Cat so much. The woman knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Well, most of the time, anyway. Sara retrieved her tea and downed the res
t of the tepid liquid. Cat did the same as she tucked one foot back underneath her.
“You know,” Cat said after a lengthy pause, “if I’d been here when the investigator was giving you a hard time, I would’ve kicked him in the balls.”
Despite her best efforts, a smile formed on her lips even as she tried to keep a stern face. “That wouldn’t have been nice and you know it.”
“Of course not. That’s the whole point. Get it?” she asked, swinging one leg back and forth with the tip of her shoe pointed upward.
“Catherine!” Her smile became a giggle, which erupted into full blown laughter. Before long, tears were rolling down her cheeks, with Cat laughing just as hard. It felt good to release the pent-up tension, even if it was rather inappropriate.
“Can—can’t you just see him? A big strapping man taken down by little ole’ me,” Cat managed to get out. “As long as I wasn’t under him when he hit the ground.”
Sara whooped, the vivid image careening through her mind. “We should be ashamed.”
“Yeah, but who cares?” As the laughter died down, Cat wagged her eyebrows. “Even if he is one hunk of a luscious, lip-smacking male. Mmm-mmm-mmm. I could stand to be ‘under’ him for a while—if you know what I mean.”
“You can say that? Even after your ex beat the stuffing out of you all the time?” She was astonished her friend could still view men the way she did before her marriage.
“Hey, he might have bent my spirit in a dozen different directions, but with my therapist’s help, I realize not all men are alike. I happened to pick a scum bag to fall in love with the first time. That’s all. I’ll be a lot more selective next time.”
Sara cocked an eyebrow. “Nice speech. Do you really mean it?”
She shrugged. “I’m working on it. We’ll see.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
However, the thought of Daniels’ strong arms around her warmed Sara’s cheeks. He irritated her, probed into things she didn’t want to discuss. Yet, what would it feel like to always have him near? To know he’d be there to protect her as he did today at the cemetery?
As quickly as the thought assaulted her, she pushed it aside. Despite the fact Jason hadn’t been as loving as he’d once been before his death, she still felt obligated to remain true to his memory. Besides, there was no room in her world. All of her thoughts and energy had been focused on finding Kaycee. However, Morgan Daniels, with his penetrating gaze and rock solid arms holding her firmly, had left an indelible impression on her senses. It was unsettling to say the least and she wasn’t ready to explore the feelings he had brought to the surface.
