She left her bedroom, found the house quiet and rapped on Lindsey’s bedroom door. “Lindsey! Time to go.”
Silence answered her call. Annie listened, trying to determine if the shower in the en suite was running. The thickness of the wood prevented her from hearing anything. She knocked again, then cracked open the door.
A fresh floral scent, reminiscent of the bath and body store they’d passed in the mall, filled the room. The door to the connecting bathroom was open, providing a view of a blue towel hanging crookedly from the horizontal bar outside the shower stall. Like the bedroom, the bathroom was empty.
Lindsey must have left the house while Annie was showering and getting dressed, probably to take out Hobo. Annie started to leave the room when she spotted one of her tennis shoes near the foot of the bed. Hobo must have dragged it into the room.
She entered the bedroom, bent down and picked up the shoe. While her eyes were level with the floor, she glimpsed another of her shoes from a different pair peeking out from under the bed.
“For pity’s sake, Hobo,” she said aloud.
She got down on her knees, retrieved the shoe and lifted the bedspread to check for any other missing items. Something glinted at her from under the bed. She squinted. Whatever it was seemed to be attached to a black object. She angled her body so she could see more clearly, but only succeeded in blocking the morning sunlight streaming into the room.
She extended her arm, her hand fastening on the object. It was square with something cylindrical extended outward. Something that felt like…a lens.
“Oh, no,” she said aloud, and pulled an expensive-looking black digital camera from under the bed. The name of a famous company was printed in white letters above the telephoto lens. It was the same brand of camera that had been stolen from the angry tourist’s trunk.
She heard a dog’s joyful bark, then Hobo was skidding across the hardwood floor, going immediately for the tennis shoe Annie had dropped.
Lindsey trailed the dog, dressed for church in a sunny yellow dress. “What are you doing in my room?”
The girl’s tone was accusatory but not worried, leading Annie to believe she must not have seen the stolen camera. She held it up in plain view. “What are you doing with this?”
Lindsey floundered, looking unsure of herself. “You shouldn’t have been spying on me.”
Explaining how she happened to be in the room seemed of secondary importance. “You shouldn’t have stolen that man’s camera.”
“I didn’t!” Lindsey said.
Stealing seemed out of character from everything Annie knew about Lindsey, but how could she possibly believe in the girl’s innocence when she held the evidence in her hands?
Annie stood up. “You’re making it worse by lying.”
“I’m not lying!”
Annie ignored her. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to return the camera and apologize for stealing it.”
Lindsey’s face contorted. Her chest heaved in and out, then she pivoted and sprinted out of the room, through the house and out the screen door.
“Lindsey!” Annie shouted. “Come back here!”
The girl didn’t listen, flying over the grass in her bare feet, Hobo barking and running after her. She must have removed her shoes after taking Hobo out.
The hour was too early for the morning group of rafters to arrive. The shop was open, though, a sometimes-guide Annie had talked into filling in for Jason having already brought out the rental bikes. Lindsey grabbed one and jumped on, looking incongruous with her bare legs and yellow dress.
“Lindsey!” Annie shouted again, but the girl was already heading toward the bike trail, Hobo in pursuit, barking excitedly as if they were going on an excursion.
Annie stared helplessly after her, not sure where she’d gone wrong. She didn’t even know whether to follow her or let her go.
She looked down at herself. She was wearing a dress and that silly pair of high heels. She couldn’t very well chase after Lindsey outfitted like this.
She headed back to the house, berating herself all the way, her throat thick. She’d wanted to make memories today that could last her through the empty years to come.
She changed into shorts and a T-shirt, giving up on the notion of going to church. Her mind was whirling, trying to decide what she would say out on the trail if she caught up to Lindsey. Would it be smarter to wait until the girl came back on her own?
Smarter? Annie snorted to herself. When it came to how she dealt with Lindsey, the word smart didn’t apply. She headed out of the bedroom, still unsure of what she was going to do. She sensed someone else was in the house before she saw the man standing in the great room, his eyes bleary as though he’d traveled all night, a suitcase at his side.
“Hello, Annie,” he said.
She swallowed, futilely wishing she didn’t have to deal with this now. “Hello, Dad.”
LINDSEY PEDALED furiously, even though it hurt into her bare feet.
The trail was headed uphill, slowing her down so that Hobo caught up with her. The dog ran alongside the bike, his tongue hanging out like he was having fun.
Lindsey had been enjoying herself, too. She hadn’t been looking forward to going back home. Home. That was the kicker. She’d felt more at home here than she ever had in Pittsburgh.
She still didn’t think Indigo Springs was cool, but it had grown on her because of Annie and Ryan. They were cool. Or so she’d thought. She’d been wrong about Annie. She let out a strangled sob.
How could Annie believe she was a thief? She’d never stolen a thing in her life, not like some of her friends. They were always taking something when they went to the store, even if it was only a pack of gum.
She couldn’t live with herself if she did something like that.
Sure, the camera under her bed looked bad. But Annie should have trusted her.
Annie hadn’t let her explain that she was going to put the camera back in the man’s trunk after spotting Jason stash it in the storeroom.
She liked Jason, even though he treated her like a kid sister. She didn’t want him to get in trouble, so she’d taken the camera from its hiding spot. Before she could put it back, a customer had asked which sunglasses looked good on her. Helping the customer took so long, the man and his keys were gone.
Putting the camera under her bed had been a dumb move, but she hadn’t known what else to do. Lying to the cop about Jason had been stupid, too. She’d almost confessed to Annie a half-dozen times yesterday. She’d meant to tell Ryan last night, but they’d been having such a good time she forgot all about the camera.
She pedaled some more, her legs hurting and her lungs burning. She wouldn’t even be on the bike if Annie had let her explain.
Or, maybe, if she’d tried harder to tell Annie what had gone on.
Annie already listened to Lindsey more than her father or stepmother. If Lindsey went back, Annie would give her a chance to tell what really happened.
Hoping she was right, Lindsey stopped pedaling and turned the bike around. She hurried down the hill, left the bike by the shop, then ran through the grass to the house where she’d been so happy. Hobo had gotten tired of following her and was chasing a butterfly. He’d be okay until she got herself out of hot water with Annie.
Her bare feet didn’t make a sound on the porch. It hadn’t been too hot last night so Annie had turned off the air conditioner, opened the windows and left only the screen door in place.
She heard Annie’s voice and then an older, deeper male voice she recognized. She peered through the screen door. Annie was sitting on the sofa next to a thin man with gray hair. Yes! It was Uncle Frank. He was putting his arms around Annie. Was she crying?
Lindsey couldn’t stand it if she was, especially if she was the reason. She put her hand on the doorknob, but she hesitated, trying to decide what to do. Her stepmother was always scolding her for eavesdropping but sometimes it was the only way Lindsey ever found
out anything.
“Can you ever forgive me?” Uncle Frank asked Annie.
Lindsey’s hand tightened on the knob. Forgive him for what?
“I gave birth to her, Dad,” Annie said through her tears. “Don’t you think I had a right to know you let friends adopt her?”
Who were they talking about? Who had Annie given birth to? Lindsey’s heart thudded.
“I know, honey,” Uncle Frank said. “But try to understand. I couldn’t bear to give Lindsey to a stranger.”
Lindsey couldn’t breathe. Her heart seemed to stop beating.
They were talking about her.
It suddenly made sense why Uncle Frank had always paid so much attention to her. He wasn’t her uncle at all; he was her grandfather.
And Annie was her mother.
Lindsey felt the blood rush through her veins. She gasped for air as the truth nearly choked her.
They’d lied to her.
Her dazed eyes fell on the purse and shoes she’d left on the porch when she took out Hobo. She picked them up and ran.
She thought about calling Ryan, but she quickly changed her mind. He was Annie’s boyfriend. She must have shared the secret with him. Yet he hadn’t told Lindsey, either.
She kept running, not sure where she was going or what she meant to do. Not sure of anything, now that she discovered Annie had betrayed her.
ANNIE SWIPED at her tears. She’d never been a crier and wasn’t about to start now. Lindsey would be back soon and it was imperative she keep a clear head to better handle the problem of the stolen camera.
First she had to deal with her father. When she’d recovered from the shock of him cutting short his trip to Poland, she’d expected him to apologize for the past. Instead he seemed to have no concept of how wrong he’d been.
Annie moved out of his arms and scooted away so that the length of a sofa cushion separated them. She hardened herself against his hurt expression.
“You said the same thing on the phone about not being able to let a stranger adopt Lindsey,” Annie said. “Except it wasn’t your decision to make.”
“Now, see, I don’t agree with that.” Her father’s already lean face was drawn and pale, even though time in Poland with family he hadn’t seen in years should have invigorated him. He was only sixty-five, but she could suddenly envision how he’d look as an old man. “I remember you asking me to make the decisions.”
“Not about the closed adoption, I didn’t.” Annie’s voice wobbled. “I was adamant about that. When I signed those papers, that’s what I thought I was agreeing to.”
“Why was a closed adoption so important? You never explained that.”
Hadn’t she? And yet she’d thought it was so obvious.
Annie didn’t need a snapshot to see Lindsey in those moments after birth. The baby’s dear little face had been red and she’d been crying, as though she somehow knew her mother was about to give her up.
Annie had been four years old when her mother gave her up for the first time.
“I know what it feels like to have a mother leave you.” Annie’s mother had treated their house as if it had a revolving door in the ensuing years, reappearing when she was low on money or luck. The visits had stopped abruptly when she got remarried to a wealthy Manhattan businessman. So had the birthday cards and the Christmas gifts. Annie had been nine. “I didn’t want to put Lindsey through it again and again, the way it happened with me.”
Her father sighed heavily as though the news didn’t entirely surprise him.
“I wanted Lindsey’s life to be idyllic, with two parents who loved her and never left her.” Annie’s heart squeezed at her naïveté. “It’s ironic that it didn’t turn out that way. When Helene died, she left Lindsey, too.”
“Helene never would have left Lindsey by choice,” her father said. “She loved her like crazy.”
“Lindsey doesn’t feel like she has that crazy kind of love anymore. Not since Helene died and her father remarried and had the boys,” Annie said forlornly. “I wish more than anything she still did.”
“She does have it,” her father insisted. “I love her like that. And, more importantly, so do you.”
Emotion clogged Annie’s throat. He was right. She’d loved Lindsey with a fierce intensity since even before that wrenching day in the delivery room. Now that she’d gotten to know her, she loved her that much more.
“She’s going back to Pittsburgh tomorrow,” Annie told him, a wealth of sadness threatening to engulf her.
“Then go with her,” he said. “Talk to her parents. Tell them who you are and say you want to be a part of her life.”
His advice was exactly the same as Ryan’s. Neither of them seemed to realize it wasn’t that simple.
“Part of my reason for letting Helene adopt Lindsey was selfish, but not all of it,” he continued. “When you were ready to be part of her life, I wanted you to know where she was.”
Annie wasn’t sure she could bring herself to believe him.
“I don’t even know where she is right now,” Annie said. “She was pretty upset when she took off on the bicycle.”
“Then go find her,” he said.
Knowing that was the best thing to do, Annie tried to find Lindsey, but she soon discovered the bike Lindsey had taken on her wild ride was back with the rest of the inventory. The girl was nowhere in sight. Neither was Hobo.
Jill, who was filling in at the shop, mentioned that a visibly upset Lindsey had asked to use the phone, saying her cell was dead. She’d called someone to pick her up, but the clerk didn’t know who. Annie’s best guess was Ryan.
Trying not to panic, Annie went back to the house and called him. His cell phone went straight to voice mail. The answering machine picked up at his home number.
Annie paced to the kitchen, where her father was pouring a cup of black coffee. “Ryan would have turned his cell off if they’re in church. That’s where we were headed this morning before I found that camera.”
Her father arched one eyebrow. “Ryan knows about Lindsey?”
“It would have been wrong to keep it from him, Dad,” she said. “Since Lindsey arrived, he’s been spending a lot of time with us.”
Something must have given away her feelings for Ryan because speculation entered his eyes. “Are you and Ryan together?”
“We were. We’re not anymore.” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath. “I’d tell you about it, but it’s a long story and I need to check if they’re in church.”
“Tell me the short version then.”
She inhaled, wondering how to sum up all that had gone wrong in a single heartbreaking sentence. “He asked when I was going to get my port-wine stain removed.”
“Of course he did,” her father said. “He’s a doctor.”
“But…” Annie began, then found she couldn’t finish the sentence.
“To tell you the truth, I’ve often wondered the same thing myself,” her father said. “I know it can be done.”
Annie had no doubt her father loved her exactly the way she was yet she hadn’t been willing to give Ryan that same benefit of doubt.
Because she was afraid.
Not only of being with Ryan, but of taking a chance that they could have Lindsey in their lives.
Just as he’d claimed.
Even now fear made her feet feel as if they were stuck in quicksand. She couldn’t examine her motives for it or let it paralyze her, not when she wasn’t absolutely sure Lindsey was safe.
“Will you stay here and call me on my cell if Lindsey shows up?” she asked.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
She ran out the door and to her car.
All the way she prayed for courage.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RYAN CHECKED the back of the church for what must have been the tenth time. In the row behind him, the elderly lady who’d taught him in elementary school had smiled at him the first two or three times. Now she made a circular mot
ion with her index finger and pointed toward the pulpit.
The service was nearly half over. It seemed Lindsey and Annie weren’t going to show, which didn’t make sense. Why agree to meet him at church and then stand him up? No matter how Annie felt about him, she wouldn’t have gone against the arrangements Lindsey had made.
Something wasn’t right.
“Excuse me. Can I please get through?” He used a hushed voice to make the request of the couple standing between him and the aisle. He didn’t wait for their answer, turning his body sideways and edging in front of them until he was free of the pew. He thought he stepped on the woman’s purse, but heard her say something that sounded like “ow” and was pretty sure he’d gotten her foot instead.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
Several members of the congregation regarded him with interest as he hurried down the aisle, driven by an urgency he didn’t entirely understand.
Outside the church, Main Street was deserted, the shops and restaurants not yet open for business. The curbs along the primary thoroughfare and side streets were crammed with the cars of the people attending services.
Ryan switched on his cell phone, and an icon indicating he had a voice mail immediately popped up. Moving farther away from the church entrance, he started to press the button that accessed his messages when he saw Annie’s familiar pickup pull up.
She got out of the driver’s seat, leaving the door standing open behind her. His heart began to race. In tennis shoes, khaki shorts and a T-shirt, she clearly wasn’t dressed for church. Lindsey wasn’t with her, either.
He met her halfway, alarmed by the strain on her face. “Annie, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Lindsey,” she said. “Please tell me she’s with you.”
His chest grew tight, and he now fully understood the blind panic associated with being a parent. “She’s not. Why did you think she was?”
“She called somebody this morning to come pick her up.”
The heaviness in his chest loosened but didn’t abate. That didn’t sound as bad as he’d feared.
The Secret Sin Page 17
