by Debra Webb
Again he heard the vulnerability in the usually strong woman. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”
When the call ended, Ryan was sure of one thing. Victoria Colby understood this situation a little too well. He didn’t know how or why, but in one capacity or another she had been in this very situation. The Colby Agency had worked a number of cases involving missing children…or maybe it was more personal. Maybe he’d look into that theory.
Then again, if she wanted him to know her personal business she would tell him. The best thing he could do was keep his mind on the matter at hand.
His own entirely too-personal business.
* * *
VICTORIA COLBY sat very still and prayed the horrifying sensations would pass.
The past had been catching up with her for a while now. No matter how she tried to push the memories away, they somehow managed to surface. She found it especially difficult anytime a case involved a missing or endangered child. Her mind went automatically to Trevor Sloan. She remembered well what he’d gone through losing his son. But his story had had a happy ending that included finding his son as well as saving Rachel Larson’s son. They all lived happily ever after as a family down in Mexico. She recalled Nick and Laura Foster. Their child had been missing. Again, fortunately for all involved, they’d found the boy unharmed. Most recently, Pierce Maxwell had discovered he was to be a father. He’d had to race against time to save his child from those who would have used that innocent life to further their own goals.
But there wasn’t always a happy ending.
Despite everything she could do tears welled in her eyes, emotion clogged her throat. Some children were lost forever. No clues…no bodies were ever found to give closure to their cases. To allow the families left behind to move on.
Victoria knew exactly how that felt. Her son’s body had never been found. For eighteen long years she had harbored hope. In the beginning, she and James had exhausted every means to find him. But seven-year-old Jimmy was nowhere to be found. He’d simply vanished, not leaving a trace.
Only three years after he’d disappeared, James had been murdered. Victoria closed her eyes to hold back the tears. She surely would not have survived that blow had it not been for Lucas. Once she’d buried her husband, she’d turned back to the one thing she could cling to: this agency. She had worked hard to make it what it was today and along the way she’d never given up on finding Jimmy…at least for the first dozen or so years.
It had been easy to maintain that sprout of hope then. She’d been fully engrossed in building the agency, so she never had time to allow reality to sink in. Then she’d had to face the facts. After nearly two decades, Jimmy wasn’t going to be found, dead or alive. He wasn’t coming back. Again, Lucas had gotten her through that black time.
And still, here she was once more, reliving the past. Allowing hope to glimmer…wondering what her son might be doing now and if he looked as much like his father now as he had at seven. It was foolish…a waste of time.
James Colby was dead. James Colby, Jr., was dead, as well.
But she was alive.
Victoria pushed to her feet and squared her shoulders. She would not dwell on the past for another moment. She could not change history. God knew that if she could, she would. She would give her life for her son’s this minute…this very second if it would bring him back.
But nothing was bringing him back. He was gone.
Forever.
Her heart thundering in her chest, she skirted the desk and walked out to Mildred’s desk. “I think I’ll step out,” she said, her chin tilted at an angle that dared her secretary to question her reasons.
Mildred looked taken aback or maybe she was just surprised since Victoria rarely left the office for anything once she arrived. “If you’re waiting for an argument,” Mildred offered sagely, “you’ll get none from me. The weather is beautiful.” She waved a hand toward the bank of elevators in invitation. “Have a nice walk.”
Victoria’s palms were sweating and that foolish heart of hers just kept beating harder and harder. She felt flushed and chilled to the bone at the same time. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d suffered from a panic attack, and, yet, this felt exactly like the onslaught of one.
“When Ian arrives let him know that I’ll be back in an hour or so.” Her throat had gone bone dry and the room tilted just a little.
Victoria railed at herself for showing weakness. She was made of stronger stuff than this. She found it hard to believe that the Melany Jackson case had undone her so thoroughly. Where was that steel armor she generally wore? That hard-earned determination?
Vivid flashes of memory cut through her thoughts as she waited for the elevator car to arrive. She squeezed her eyes shut to block the visions but she just couldn’t stop the images. Her little boy running, the sun glinting against his dark hair. His toys scattered haphazardly around his room. And then that moment—that soul shattering moment—when she’d realized he was gone.
She’d only looked away for mere seconds. The telephone had rung and she’d hurried to answer it. But when she’d looked through the kitchen window to see that Jimmy hadn’t wandered from the kid-size fort he and his father had built in the backyard he’d been gone. It hadn’t taken her more than thirty or forty seconds to step from the yard to the kitchen to grab the telephone. She’d stretched the long cord until she could watch him through the window while she talked.
But he was already gone.
Despite every security measure they’d taken.
In the blink of an eye.
Gone forever.
The room spun wildly and Victoria clutched at the wall to no avail. She marveled briefly at the glittering colors that exploded before her eyes and then the lights went out.
* * *
VICTORIA DIDN’T dare move when her mind turned itself back on. She tried to think but couldn’t. Where was she? What happened? And then she remembered. She opened her eyes very slowly, hoping to diminish the spinning in her head.
“Ah, there you are,” a kindly male voice said softly.
She concentrated on focusing her vision for a few seconds before it actually worked. Her brain had obviously kicked back into gear since she recognized the voice. Kyle. Dr. Kyle Pendelton. What was he doing here?
She tried to sit up but he held her still. “Not just yet, Victoria,” he said with uncharacteristic sternness.
“What happened?” She looked around the room to get her bearings. The office lounge. She was lying on the sofa in the lounge. Kyle sat in a chair that had been pulled close. He peered down at her now, concern marring his attractive features.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” he responded with clear accusation in his tone. “The last time we spoke I was under the impression that you intended to take a vacation. That you were going to start working fewer hours.”
Oh, God, Mildred had been running off at the mouth again. Victoria would have rolled her eyes had she possessed the necessary strength. But, as it was, she felt too weak to breathe, much less argue the point.
“She never leaves the office before six,” a voice piped up.
Victoria did manage a scowl this time. The voice belonged to a loose-lipped traitor. “Mildred, we’ll discuss this later,” she said with as much intimidation as she could muster.
Mildred harrumphed. “I’m shaking in my boots.”
Victoria felt the blood pressure cuff tighten on her arm, the squeezing sensation accompanied by the wheeze of the pump. “Your numbers are still a little higher than I’d like,” Kyle interjected. “Arguing isn’t going to help lower them.”
“I’ll just get back to my desk,” Mildred said petulantly, but paused at the door. “Talk some sense into her, Doc. God knows we’ve all tried.”
As the door opened and then closed Victoria caught a glimpse of Ian Michaels and Trent Tucker, two of her investigators, holding vigil outside. What a fool she was. All this worry and excitement beca
use of her stupidity.
“I’m sorry they called you in, Kyle,” she said wearily. “I’m fine, really.”
He arched a speculative brow. “I can see that.” He settled his stethoscope into place and listened to her heart, encouraging her to breathe deeply from time to time and effectively putting a halt to further conversation for a bit.
When he’d removed the instrument and laid it aside, she told him the truth. “I let this new case get to me. That’s all. I’ll be fine in a little while. There’s nothing weak about me. I’m as strong as an ox. I’ll bounce back from this just like I always do.” Kyle was one she’d left off her list of those who understood what it was like to lose everything. He’d lost his wife and child to a vicious animal who still rotted in prison. Of all people, he would understand how she felt.
He took her hand in his. “Victoria, I know how strong you are and stubborn as the proverbial mule. But I also know what you go through every single day of your life.” He leveled those solemn brown eyes on hers. “I do exactly the same thing. Work, sleep, eat. You and I do all those things that are expected of us. And, if we’re lucky, the monotony will distract from the reality of the gaping hole in our hearts.”
Victoria blinked furiously. Dammit, she would not cry. She couldn’t do this…not now with Kyle watching. She’d made a big enough fool of herself already this morning.
“Nothing is ever going to change what we’ve lost. We can forge onward or bury our heads in the sand, either way it’s still there.” Moisture glistened in his eyes and Victoria railed at herself once more for putting him as well as herself through this. What had she been thinking letting the past catch up to her?
“Kyle, I know you’re right.” She shrugged helplessly. “This case down in Memphis just brought back those old memories, that’s all.”
“Do yourself a favor, Victoria. You have a highly competent staff here. Take a vacation. Get your life back. This agency is wonderful, but it’s not everything. You’ve spent years making it the best in the business. Now it’s time you got on with who you are. You’ll be fifty your next birthday. Still plenty young. You need a life.” He looked at her pointedly. “A love life, too.”
She’d heard it all before. And maybe her upcoming birthday was part of the problem. For all those long years she’d grieved the loss of her son. She’d only been thirty-five at the time James had died, even younger when Jimmy had been taken from her. She’d hidden from any kind of personal life ever since. Moving on had meant leaving them behind. She hadn’t been ready to give them up…still wasn’t, actually. But Kyle was right.
The time had come.
“All right, Doc,” she said, a smile surprising her lips. “I’m going to follow your advice to the letter. Give me two weeks to get things in order here and I’ll take that long awaited vacation.” A hint of wickedness laced her tone when she continued, “And I’ll invite a friend along.”
“A male friend?” he pressed.
Her smile widened as she thought of Lucas. “Definitely male.”
The blood pressure cuff puffed around her arm again. “That’s much better.” He removed the cuff, folded it and tucked it into his bag. “Since those high numbers appear to be an isolated event, we won’t talk medication.”
She rolled her eyes successfully this time. “I don’t need any medication.” She could pull it together. She’d done it before. She was Victoria Colby, after all. She had a reputation to maintain.
“So,” he began as he packed away his stethoscope, “where do you plan to go for this mandatory three-week vacation?”
Three weeks? Oh, he wasn’t going to let it go until he had her nailed down to a destination as well as a length of stay.
“An island would be nice,” she considered out loud. Her stomach roiled a little when she thought of the scary hours she’d spent on that island off the coast of Georgia just a few months ago. Maybe an island wasn’t such a good idea. The whole concept brought back other disturbing memories. Leberman, the man responsible for her husband’s death, and possibly for her son’s, was still at large. He didn’t intend to stop until he’d finished destroying everyone that he considered having had part in his own loss. She and Lucas were on that short list.
“That sounds perfect,” Kyle rambled on as he readied to go. “The more exotic, the better.”
Admittedly, the thought did intrigue her. Perhaps Lucas could find them a nice, thinly populated exotic location where Leberman wouldn’t think to look.
“Exotic is good,” she agreed.
Kyle helped her to a sitting position. “You’ll need to sit for a while before you try standing. Let your equilibrium get back on an even keel one level at a time.”
She snagged his hand before he stood. “What about you, Kyle? Are you getting on with your life?”
His smile was slow in coming, but when it arrived, Kyle Pendelton became the handsome young doctor he’d once been…before tragedy had struck and taken everything away from him. “Yes. As a matter of fact there is someone.”
Victoria hadn’t realized until then that she’d been holding her breath, hoping. “Good.” She squeezed his hand. “You’ll be my inspiration, then.”
Kyle looked sheepish for a moment before turning solemn once more. “We don’t want to lose you, Victoria. The people who come to this agency for help count on you. But you can’t help anyone if you don’t help yourself first.”
He was right.
Today, she decided then and there, would be a new beginning. Today would be the first day in the rest of her life.
With that settled she paused to say a quick prayer for Ryan Braxton and Melany Jackson. Maybe their situation would have a happy ever after.
If there was any hope at all, she had a feeling that Ryan would make it happen.
CHAPTER FIVE
The rain drizzled down his collar as Ryan waited for Rita Grider to answer her door. Why was it that when he had a case like this, it always rained. He surveyed the overcast sky. Tears from heaven, he supposed.
Heaving a sigh, mostly at his ridiculous sentimentality this morning, he rapped on the door again.
He glanced at his watch, eight-fifteen. According to Bill, Ms. Grider didn’t report to work at the rec center downtown until 10:00 a.m. Surely she hadn’t left already.
Shrugging his lightweight trench coat up around his neck, he scanned the parking slots in front of the town house. He couldn’t be sure what she’d be driving since Mel had totaled her tiny compact. He shuddered—from the rain, he told himself—as the idea that she could have been killed whipped through his mind. According to Bill, she was lucky to be alive. The passenger side of the car had sustained the most damage. The child had been buckled into a safety carrier in the middle section of the rear seat. That was another thing Ryan wanted to see, the vehicle. He sighed again when he thought of all the interviews that needed to be conducted today. The sooner the better.
When he raised his fist to knock again, the door opened. Rita Grider looked far younger than her twenty-six years. She had the athletic figure that went with her position as an aerobics instructor. Her dark hair was braided and looked to be about shoulder length. This morning her brown eyes carried bags and dark circles beneath them. This tragedy had weighed heavily upon her since she’d borrowed Mel’s bigger, much safer vehicle for that fateful weekend.
“Ms. Grider, I’m Ryan Braxton.” He flashed his Colby Agency ID. “I’m working with the FBI to try and find out what happened to Katlin Jackson.”
She didn’t invite him to step inside out of the rain. What she did do was inspect him thoroughly from head to toe. “You’re Mel’s Ryan,” she said with something like accusation or suspicion in her tone.
Surprise raised an eyebrow. “That’s right,” he admitted, though discovering Mel had talked about him to this woman startled him to some degree.
She jerked her head toward the living room and stepped back from the door. “Come on in.”
Ryan stepped across the thres
hold, immediately taking stock of the woman’s small home. Tidy, sparsely furnished. No pictures on the walls yet. But then, she’d just moved in.
“Have a seat,” she offered.
He pushed a routine smile into place. “No, thanks.” He glanced down at the small tiled area where he stood. “I’m making a puddle already.” The carpet beyond this three-by-three section of foyer looked pristine. He wasn’t about to be the one to soil it.
She shrugged. “What can I do for you?”
Ryan asked casually, “How long have you known Mel?” He told himself the question had nothing to do with the past…only the case. The information was pertinent to the case, though he imagined Bill had already asked this and more.
“Two years.” The fabric of the running suit she wore rasped as she folded her arms over her chest. “I was a student in one of her classes a while back. We hit it off right away.”
Ryan considered for a moment what Mel could have in common with this woman. Eight year age difference, student versus teacher, considerable standard-of-living gap. Nothing that was immediately apparent. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the photograph that had been found on Hanes. The Polaroid had been cut down to a size that would fit into a man’s wallet. It looked smudged, likely with dirty fingerprints. The crime scene techs had already done their magic and stored the photo in a plastic evidence bag before turning it over to Bill. It was amazing how much more sinister a simple photograph looked once stored in that harmless plastic container.
“Take a look at this and tell me if you’ve ever seen it before.”
Slowly, as if she feared what she might see, she accepted the bag, gripping it by one corner between her thumb and forefinger.
“It’s Katlin,” she murmured. Her breath caught and her eyes brightened with tears. “It’s…” She frowned, then stared at the photo more closely. “Is this a Polaroid?” She looked to Ryan for the answer. He nodded. She turned her attention back to the picture. “It’s like the one they showed me when I identified…the body.” Her gaze shot back to Ryan’s. “But her eyes were closed. They told me she was dead.”
