by Debra Webb
Yet, deep down Melissa understood that Harry had been very lonely since her mother had passed away and she and William had grown up. But Harry just wasn’t the sort of man to do such a thing.
“Tell me about the chief’s wife,” Jonathan said, as if he’d picked up on Melissa’s last thought. He’d always been able to do that. When they were together, she’d accused him of reading her mind too many times to count.
“They’ve lived here for as long as I can remember. The chief is preparing for retirement. They bought a place in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. They were supposed to leave already but he doesn’t want to go until this…” she swallowed hard “…is resolved. His wife has never worked outside the home despite having a degree in education.”
That Jonathan wasn’t letting go the idea that Harry and Carol were having an affair raised Melissa’s hackles. He was right, she realized on an intellectual level, to consider every possibility. Even though this possibility was a waste of time.
“She planned to teach,” Melissa explained, “but they wanted children first.” She replayed the comments she could recall that her mother had made over the years about the chief and his wife. Most of the ladies in town considered Carol Talbot a bit uppity, but Melissa’s mother had always spoken kindly of her. “I think there were several miscarriages before Carol had a successful pregnancy.”
Jonathan looked surprised to hear this. “I was under the impression they didn’t have children.”
“They did,” Melissa explained. “Just one. A little girl. She was born when I was about four.” Dragging up those awful memories sent another stab of misery deep into her chest. “A beautiful little girl. Like her mother.” Carol Talbot was a gorgeous woman. “When she was four she drowned. It was really awful.” Melissa shivered, hugged herself again. “I don’t know how a person gets over something like that.” And she didn’t want to know.
“I don’t think they do.”
Melissa searched Jonathan’s face, his eyes. There had always been something he held back from her. That had been part of the problem, she suspected. “You lost someone?” He wouldn’t tell her. She’d asked that question before, but he’d never elaborated on the shadow that hung over his past. They talked about his history to a point, but there was always that place he avoided.
“You could say that.”
And that was as far into his past as Jonathan Foley ever allowed her. It shouldn’t bother her all these years later, but somehow it did.
Jonathan turned his attention back to the photos again. “That’s why the chief isn’t retiring as planned.”
“Yes. He won’t leave without finding Polly.” The chief wouldn’t leave this investigation up to anyone else. He knew every citizen in this town, some since birth. He wasn’t going anywhere until this was done. Melissa appreciated his loyalty. Calling Jonathan for help was no reflection on the chief’s determination to solve the case. He had gone above and beyond. And he’d found nothing. Chief Talbot could use all the help he could get, whether he wanted it or not.
In truth, it was that close-knit relationship between the chief and the citizens he protected that worried Melissa. She couldn’t imagine anyone in town being responsible for Polly’s disappearance. Would the chief’s training and years of experience help him to see beyond what he thought he knew to be true?
“Sometimes,” Jonathan began, “in their grief, people go to extremes they wouldn’t have gone to before to assuage the pain.”
“Like having affairs.” Melissa knew where he was going with this. “I just can’t see Carol or Harry doing something like that. He and the chief have been friends for most of their lives. They played football together in high school. Harry was the chief’s best man at his and Carol’s wedding.” Melissa hadn’t been born yet, but she’d heard all the stories, seen the photos.
“Rayburn suggested your uncle and the chief haven’t spoken in years.”
A frown furrowed across Melissa’s brow. What was Scott up to? He loved stirring trouble, thrived on drama. He never hurt anyone, just kept small-town life interesting. But this was a missing child. Polly, for God’s sake. Setting her frustration aside, she weighed the comment he’d made to Jonathan. “Uncle Harry was always too busy taking care of us to have much of a social life.”
Melissa tried to think of a time when she’d seen him and the chief together—in any setting—carrying on a conversation. Surely she had. Yet, strangely, she couldn’t recall even one. Scott could very well be putting one and two together and coming up with four. Just because the chief and Harry were busy didn’t mean they weren’t friends anymore. And just because Carol had suffered an agonizing loss didn’t make her an adulteress.
Still, Melissa recognized that Jonathan had a point. “Carol Talbot shops.” Those same ladies in town who didn’t care for Carol whispered behind their hands about her outrageous shopping sprees. “She goes on big shopping trips, sometimes all the way to New York. She wears only the best. Her home is decorated equally beautifully.” Melissa shrugged. “I guess buying things became her distraction.”
“Sometimes a distraction works for a while,” Jonathan put forward, “then that person needs something more. Like a drug addiction. When the same old drug doesn’t do the trick anymore, it takes something new and stronger, more daring than the last.”
He was preaching to the choir. As a nurse, Melissa understood the human psyche. She shook her head. “Maybe. But not with my uncle. He’s not that kind of man. He’d never do that to the chief.” Harry had been like a father to her and to William. He’d sacrificed any thoughts of having his own family to take care of his younger brother’s. A man like that didn’t get involved with another man’s wife. He wouldn’t be that selfish. Melissa refused to believe that for a moment.
“According to Rayburn,” Jonathan said, despite her wish that he would forget about Scott, “Stevie’s fascination with the children in the community is trouble waiting to happen. Is there any possibility that he has inappropriate feelings for any of the children? Have you watched his interactions closely enough to truly judge that aspect? I’d like you to put your feelings for the man aside. Is it possible?”
Melissa rose and started pacing again. She didn’t want to think of Stevie in that way. He wasn’t really a man, in that sense. He was a child. Why did someone always have to make every little thing bad? She hated that. “I played with him myself growing up.” She shook her head adamantly. “Stevie doesn’t think that way. I’m as sure of it as I am of anything.”
“But you were both kids then,” Jonathan reminded her. “What about now? Physically, Stevie’s a man. Think, Melissa.” He pressed her with that deep, deep, penetrating gaze that still haunted her dreams. “Are you absolutely certain Rayburn is wrong?”
Hesitation and confusion muddied her thinking process. “I don’t know.” She turned away from him and walked to the window. It was dark outside. Nothing to stare at but the moon. “I guess it’s not completely impossible.” She looked over her shoulder at Jonathan. “But I’ve never witnessed anything unto ward in Stevie’s behavior in any setting with anyone.” That was the truth. She would stand by that until solid evidence proved otherwise.
And if she was wrong…
Don’t let him have started with Polly.
Not Polly.
Jonathan joined her at the window. “You don’t want to consider this line of thinking,” he said quietly. “But Harper was the one witness who could place Stevie on that bus and now he’s dead. Stevie has deep affection for Polly and the two went missing the same day. That can’t be coincidence, Melissa. No matter how you look at it—no matter what you think you know—the facts speak for themselves.”
She closed her eyes, held back the emotions that threatened. He was right. She couldn’t deny his words any longer. After all her family had done for Stevie, surely he wouldn’t have hurt Polly. Yet, on an intellectual level, she knew those very things happened.
Not to her family…they’d suffered enough
already.
“Tomorrow,” Jonathan said gently, “we’ll confront Rayburn together. I’m certain there is more he didn’t tell me. He seems like the type who won’t want to be one-upped. If you refute his claims, he may spill more than he intends in order to prove you wrong. Any information we gain from him could prove useful.”
She nodded. “I can do that.” Scott loved being right. And most of the time he was. Just not this time.
Headlights flashed across the window, then extinguished. Melissa peered through the darkness to determine who had arrived. Her heart rate kicked into a faster rhythm. Harry.
“It’s my uncle.” She turned to Jonathan. “Maybe I should talk to him alone.” Harry hadn’t seemed as enthusiastic about her call to Jonathan as she’d hoped he would be. If she intended to ask him any sensitive questions, he would be most unhappy if she did so in front of Jonathan.
“I have some calls to make.” Jonathan stepped away from the window. “I’ll be out back if you need me.”
Melissa resisted the urge to launch into his arms and go with him. She didn’t want to think about these questions, much less ask them. And she was tired. So very tired. She closed her eyes and banished the images of sweet little Polly out there somewhere, alone in the dark.
Or worse.
Melissa shuddered. She had to keep herself strong. Polly needed her.
The front door opened and Harry stepped inside. He didn’t live here but he might as well have. He’d been a part of this family in every sense of the word for Melissa’s entire life.
Their gazes collided. “Hey.” She couldn’t manage a respectable smile for him, but she tried to infuse hope into her expression. The grim set of his made her heart pound harder. Surely there wasn’t more bad news.
“I need to talk to you, Melissa.”
Fear skittered through her veins. “Is there news?” Please, please don’t let it be bad.
Harry trudged over to a chair and dropped into it. He was showing every day of his fifty-eight years tonight. They were all showing signs of sheer exhaustion and overwhelming misery.
She sat down on the sofa and clasped her hands in her lap to prevent them from shaking. “What’s wrong?”
“William is beside himself.” Harry swiped a hand over his face. “He’s torn up over the idea that you and your friend believe Presley had something to do with Polly’s disappearance.”
Melissa hated that Harry and William were hurt by Jonathan’s questions, but they had to be asked. She had come to terms with that painful fact. Presley was hiding something. There was no doubt in Melissa’s mind.
“I know Presley would never purposely do anything to hurt Polly,” Melissa explained. “But William’s got to see that something’s wrong with her story. She’s hiding something. Whatever she’s leaving out might be relevant in a way she doesn’t understand.”
“I can’t deny that likelihood.” Harry slumped back into the chair. “But, good God, girl, she’s William’s wife. You can’t expect him not to be hurt by those kinds of allegations.”
Melissa’s guilt for hurting her brother or Presley gave way to frustration. “I’m sorry as I can be that either of them is hurt by this, Uncle Harry, but Polly is missing.” Melissa lifted her hands, turned her palms upward in question. “She’s been gone almost six days. We can’t afford to take the chance that there’s some aspect of the circumstances of that night that isn’t being considered. Those of us closest to Polly have to double the scrutiny on every step we made before her disappearance.”
Harry lowered his head and gave it a shake. “You’re right, of course.” He heaved a burdened breath and met Melissa’s gaze once more. “But it’s so hard to watch him suffer like this.”
Melissa got up and walked over to kneel down in front of her weary uncle. “I know.” She reached her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “We’ll get through this. Momma always said the Shepherds were made of strong stock. We can do what has to be done.”
Harry hugged her close. “We will. I promise you that. We will all get through this.”
Melissa closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, drawing in the familiar, comforting scent of the man who had been more father than uncle to her. He patted her back, murmured reassuring words.
She stilled as she sniffed another scent on his collar. A cloying smell that overpowered his usual herb-scented aftershave. Melissa analyzed the sweet fragrance. Perfume. She vaguely recognized the expensive designer brand.
Where had she smelled that perfume before?
Carol Talbot.
The air exited her lungs in a whoosh.
All the reasons why that scent might be clinging to her uncle’s shirt filtered through her, ramming against the logic that could not be denied. He may have bumped into Carol that evening. She might have hugged him in deference to this nightmare in which the whole family was trapped. He might have…
Don’t be stupid, Melissa.
There had to be a reasonable explanation for the dose of Carol’s perfume that permeated her uncle’s shirt. A good, long hug under current circumstances wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. And just because Carol was the only woman Melissa knew who wore that particular perfume didn’t mean there weren’t others. Maybe.
Melissa drew back, propped a smile in place. “You’re right. We’ll find Polly safe and sound and everything will be all right.”
“No question.” Emotion shimmered in his eyes. “You have my word on that. The whole family will be all right. I promise.”
She nodded, couldn’t bring herself to speak. He was so sure. He’d always taken such good care of Melissa and her brother. His confidence now heartened her, despite Scott Rayburn’s accusation echoing in her brain.
“I know your friend is trying to help,” Harry said. “Nothing I could say or do would ever be thanks enough for what he did for William, getting those orders delayed. Maybe if he could just go a little easy on William and Presley it would be better.”
“I’ll talk to him.” Melissa got to her feet and backed away a step. Carol Talbot’s preferred scent haunted her senses. There had to be an explanation. There just had to be.
Harry stood. “Get some rest. I’m going back out on the search tomorrow morning.”
Melissa nodded. “I’ll be there, too.”
She walked her uncle to the door and said good-night, her head reeling with questions.
Could she really have been that blind all these years? Harry Shepherd had always been a hero to her, the man she could call upon for anything at any time. The idea of him having an affair with his best friend’s wife…well, it just didn’t make sense.
Melissa took a deep breath, pushed that worry away and went in search of Jonathan. She wasn’t ready to admit Scott Rayburn might be right—not until she had more solid proof. If Harry was having an affair with Carol, it had nothing to do with the search for Polly.
Jonathan leaned against a porch post, staring out into the night. The big moths flying around the glow of the overhead light sent fluttering shadows over his tall frame.
“My uncle’s gone now.”
Jonathan turned to her. “Is there news?”
Melissa shook her head. She folded her arms over her chest and moved up beside Jonathan. “He’s worried about William. He asked if you could go a little easier on Presley next time you speak to her.”
Jonathan resumed staring out into the darkness. “Even if doing so stonewalls finding the child?”
Melissa’s belly cramped with agony. “He didn’t mean that. He’s just worried about William. And Polly,” she added to ensure Jonathan got it. She thought of all the times she and William had depended on Harry and he’d never let them down. “He’s certain we’ll find her and that everything will be all right again.” That part bothered her a little for some reason. He was so sure. Maybe he just wanted to give Melissa more confidence. That would be just like him. He’d done the same thing when she’d tried out for the girls’ volleyball team in high school. He
’d sworn she would make the team. And she had. To this day she wondered if he’d put a bug in the coach’s ear.
Jonathan turned to stare at her, his doubt set in grim lines on his face. “I heard that part.”
Melissa’s jaw dropped in surprise. “You were listening to our conversation?”
Jonathan held her gaze, his expression unflinching. “He’s very confident considering this investigation has gone nowhere and the child has been missing for nearly a week.” He turned to face her fully. “There’s something you need to understand.”
She braced for the words to come. Judging by the unyielding look in his eyes, whatever he had to say was going to hurt.
“There’s no evidence. No ransom demand. Nothing.”
Each word was like a spear sliding through her chest.
“The chances of finding that child alive after almost a week are slim to none.”
She opened her mouth to rail at him but he stopped her with a raised hand. “Unless,” he qualified, “the person who abducted her is someone she knows. Someone who has an ulterior motive for keeping her hidden away. And safe. If the motive for taking her is not for money or some perverted pleasure, there has to be another reason.”
Melissa’s eyes widened with the disbelief pounding against her sternum. “You’re accusing William or Harry, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe Presley.”
“That’s crazy.” Melissa wasn’t buying that. She twisted away from his hard gaze, refused to be swayed by the conviction on his face, in his tone.
“Four people have something to gain by William’s deployment orders being changed,” Jonathan went on, the truth in his words like salt in her aching wounds. “William, Harry, Presley and you.”
Melissa whirled toward him once more. “Now you’re accusing me?”
“I’m merely pointing out that the four of you have motive. That is what the chief should have looked at first. Considering the lack of a ransom demand, who had the most to gain by her going missing? It’s a hard question, Melissa, but it needs to be asked. If Talbot isn’t asking, he’s making a mistake. No matter how well he knows you and your family.”
