“We have to go to the police. Now.” She stood on shaky knees but wasn’t going to let them stop her.
She’d come this far.
She still wasn’t positive she hadn’t done something awful that day, during those minutes she couldn’t remember, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her, either.
She had to know what had happened to Joy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SIMON WOULD REMEMBER that day for the rest of his life. He’d insisted on walking with Cara into the police station. Sat with her in the small private room a uniformed employee at the front desk had shown her to immediately after she’d given her name and they’d recognized it from the news.
They’d been sitting together on a couch in front of a scarred table filled with old magazines. He’d stood when two detectives walked in, one man and one woman.
He backed her up when she refused immediate medical treatment. He saw the panic in her eyes when they mentioned calling an ambulance.
“I’m a doctor,” he told them. Showed them the badge from his bag. His driver’s license. He’d expected to have to show both out front. “She’s had memory lapses due to traumatic brain injury and just an hour ago regained critical pieces of memory that led us here.”
It was up to Cara what she wanted to reveal and when. But he was going to make damned sure that she got a fair shake.
“It was an obviously emotional moment,” he continued as the female detective studied her intently.
Cara looked at all three of them.
“I just remembered part of the morning that my husband put these most recent scars on my face,” she said. “There are still blank pieces over the couple of days after that, but I remember him dumping me on a mountain and leaving me to die. I wandered until I couldn’t go any farther and passed out. That’s when Simon found me.”
She looked at him. “I’ll give whatever statements you need me to give,” she said. “But...I need to know about my daughter...”
“Your daughter?”
“She was with us in the house...with my husband’s sister, Mary, who we just found out is dead.”
Simon felt a shaft of alarm. “I’m sorry.” He put a hand on Cara’s shoulder and looked at the two detectives. “Her husband, Shawn Amos...”
“There’s an APB on him, we know.” The male detective, whose name tag read Sanchez, spoke then. “We found it when we looked Mrs. Amos up in the system.” He nodded toward Cara.
Simon told them about the old shopkeeper, about the man showing Cara’s picture around the Prospector area the day before, saying she was his wife. Sanchez left to make calls.
“Now, what about your daughter?” the female detective, Diamond, asked, sitting on the other side of Cara.
“I need to know... We couldn’t find anything...”
“I bought a tablet when we arrived.” Simon told the detective about getting Cara off that mountain once he’d heard Shawn was in town, about trying to fill in pieces of her memory by reading the news once they got to Vegas. About the address being the catalyst that had brought her this far.
“I need to know what happened to my daughter.” Cara had a one-track mind. Simon didn’t blame her. “Please, anything you can tell us...”
The detective, after another couple of questions and concerned glances, looked up as the door opened and Sanchez peered in. He glanced at Diamond, nodded toward Simon, and then nodded at Diamond again. He had a feeling he’d just passed a very quick background check.
“If you’ll excuse me for just a few minutes, I’ll see what I can find out for you,” she said to Cara.
They were a long few minutes, though probably not more than five. Simon watched Cara. She mostly watched her feet.
“Thank you for staying...”
“I told you. I’ve got you until you’re safe.” And then, considering where they were, added, “And we know what’s going on.”
She nodded. Glanced toward the door. He thought about the many parents who’d waited for hours for him to appear to tell them that their child had survived surgery.
Reminded himself that the human spirit was resilient. And that Cara’s seemed even more so than most.
The door opened and one look at the detective’s face—the smile there—had Simon on his feet. Ready to catch Cara who’d also shot up.
“She’s fine,” the detective said, completely unaware that until that moment Joy’s mother had thought she’d killed her own child.
“She’s fine.” Cara stood still, as though on the brink of running.
“Absolutely fine. In Santa Raquel, about five and a half hours from here. Your father is there, too, and would like to speak with you...”
“Daddy?” Cara’s eyes filled with tears as the cell phone in the detective’s hand rang.
She looked at Cara, who nodded back on the third ring.
“Detective Diamond.” The woman was walking toward Cara as she spoke. “Yes, sir. Here she is.”
She handed Cara the phone.
Simon didn’t have a plan. He just moved to Cara, supporting her weight with his body and putting a hand over hers as she raised a trembling arm toward her ear.
“Daddy?”
“Oh, my God, baby girl, it’s you. My Cara...” Simon was so close he could just make out the man’s booming voice.
“I love you, Daddy. I’m so sorry. Joy... Is she really there?”
“In the next room, with a friend...” he said. Cara held the phone out a little, looking at Simon, and he leaned in closer so he could hear it all. “She’s... They tell me it’s best that she sees you in person, not just hears your voice on the phone. It’s been so hard for her... It reminds me of you and your mom...”
“But...she’s really okay? He didn’t hurt her?”
“Not physically. She saw him drag you off...saw her aunt in bad shape. She’s had some struggles, but she’s been talking more and...once she sees you she’ll be fine soon enough. I’m sure of that one.”
“I’m so sorry, Daddy. I’m just so...”
“Sssshh. Don’t you dare feel like any of this was your fault, baby girl.”
“Ten years...and before...with Mom...”
“We have a whole lifetime ahead of us now. That’s all that matters...”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, baby girl. Now, please, get back to us...”
Simon knew he would never, ever forget the moment that told him, irrevocably, that love, family, was worth absolutely whatever they cost.
And knew, too, that Cara had someone else at her back now.
His time to back away had come.
Santa Raquel, California
THOUGH HE’D BEEN to Santa Barbara, a little bit south, Simon had never been to Santa Raquel. And most certainly he’d never been to the nondescript shopping mall where the police escort from Vegas had led him.
They’d offered to take Cara off his hands.
She was the one who’d asked him to drive her himself. Because it was on the way to LA anyway, she’d said.
He didn’t care if it was in Timbuktu, he’d have taken her.
“This is it?” she asked, looking around at the strip mall shops—a used clothing store and a computer repair shop among others.
He shrugged, yearning, for just a second, to be back at his cabin with her all to himself. He was elated for her. She hadn’t lost her daughter, after all. Nor had she done anything bad. To the contrary, she’d sacrificed herself to save others.
They’d already had a call from local Ventura detectives to say that Cara’s account of Shawn’s ring hitting Mary’s face coincided with an ME’s report and pictures taken at the hospital when she’d been brought in of a cut just below Mary’s right cheekbone—the blow that was determined to have caused
the brain bleed that had ultimately taken her life.
Other than that, the drive from Vegas to Santa Raquel, their last time alone together, had been spent with Cara talking about Joy, interspersed with Cara saying about a hundred times, “She’s alive.” Simon learned so much about the little girl, he felt like he knew her.
The police car that had been in front of them the entire way pulled over and parked.
The one behind him was still there, waiting for him to follow.
Pulling in, Simon felt like he should be saying something. Telling her how much the past two months had meant to him. How she’d helped saved him from a self-induced lonely life. But the words sounded so...uneventful...considering what had to be on her mind.
He’d been important during her time out of time.
He was pretty certain he’d be someone she’d always remember and...
She opened her door before he had the SUV in Park. Ran out into the middle of the parking lot, toward the door right in front of them. A single glass door with only a number on it.
Partially there, she stopped, looked back at him. He expected a wave. Had empty arms longing for one last hug.
“Come on, Simon!” she said, instead.
He didn’t belong there. He knew that. Knew that as soon as she was back with her family, the real healing would begin.
And she had a little girl who’d also need special care and Cara’s close attention. But because she asked, because he loved her, he was by her side before she reached the door, his body touching hers enough to let her know she wasn’t alone, but not enough to hold her back.
Or hold her at all.
There were always boundaries. He understood.
They walked in together behind a uniformed Las Vegas police officer and the detective who’d met them at the door. Through a small entryway and into a small vestibule with linoleum floors...
“Mommy!” The scream that rent the room took Simon’s attention from anything, anyone else. He saw the long dark hair—just like Cara’s—as the tiny, jeans-clad body hurled herself at the woman Simon had been protecting. “Mommy!”
Cara swung that body up off the ground and into her arms, laughing and crying. “Joy...oh, my baby, Joy.” The two heads were a tangle of dark hair and tears, until a distinguished-looking suited gentleman stepped up right behind the little girl, tears on his face as he hugged them both tight.
Cara didn’t look for Simon. Probably didn’t even remember he was there.
Which was at it should be.
With one last look, he took his leave.
* * *
THAT FIRST DAY she was back, Cara was never more than a foot or two from Joy. As she met Lila and Julie, Sara and even the nurse, Lynn, she was present in the moments, but her focus was entirely on her daughter.
And Daddy was there. His presence was a huge comfort to her—and carried a lot of pain, too. Every time she looked at him, heard his voice, she filled up with more tears than she could shed.
Late that afternoon, Daddy left to move back to his hotel room. Cara was admitted to the Stand, and she and Joy were given their own little bungalow, where she made peanut butter sandwiches for them to share for dinner. Because Joy wanted them. She went to bed early, the same time Joy did, and slept all night, cuddled up to her little girl.
And dreamed about Simon.
The following few days were a blur. Because so many insisted on it—and with Simon’s voice in the back of her mind—she agreed to a battery of tests at the local hospital, all of which confirmed that she was physically healthy. She had sessions with Sara—alone, with Joy and with her father.
Shawn was back in custody, held without bail, and Cara would be called upon to testify against him about Mary’s death. The prosecutor expected him to make a plea, with the hope of getting life with the possibility of parole instead of the death penalty. Either way, he was gone from their lives.
Mostly, during those first days, she spent time with her daughter. Cooked for her. Pretty much memorized the Amy books that had saved Joy when Cara had been gone, slept long hours at night and missed Simon.
She had no idea where he was—hoped he was back in LA with friends who loved him. And yet...wanted to picture him at the cabin, too. Their cabin.
It had been two months out of time. A different life. And yet...they’d touched her forever.
Had they touched him, too?
He’d said he had no interest in marrying again. He didn’t want to be trapped when the bad times came—which they always did.
He’d already loved and lost a little girl.
He had months yet to get through before he’d have to accept the fact that his sight had been permanently damaged. Before he’d know the extent of the damage, know if enough sight would return to allow him to resume his practice.
But...did he think of her now and then? Miss her?
Could they...maybe...someday be friends? Who called each other now and then just to check up? Maybe met for Sunday brunch a couple of times a year?
The idea was a pipe dream; she knew it, and yet...thinking about it helped her get through the confusing array of emotions that were her constant companions those first days. They ranged from utter joy to complete despair, regret, anger and bone-deep gratitude. Grief. And...calm, too.
She’d been stripped bare up on that mountain—had found herself there.
There was no talk of the future during those first days. Just a lot of talking. About the past. Sorting through years of trauma—both in Florida and since her marriage to Shawn. Looking for clarity in the confusion.
She met Julie Fairbanks and invited the woman to join her and Joy at the bungalow for dinner one night. They had a lot in common, including a deep and abiding love for Joy. And they’d both lost their mothers to illness at seventeen, followed by abuse from men they’d thought they loved—men they’d thought had loved them.
They’d both met other men, too. Ones who made their hearts race. But while Julie was in a relationship with hers...Cara was only hoping to hear from hers again someday.
Cara didn’t question the similarities. She accepted them as Karma’s gift. With...maybe...a bit of nudging from a particular angel in heaven...
Regardless of the whys and hows, Cara would be grateful forever to the other woman for the love and care she’d given Joy. From what she’d been told, Julie had pretty much saved Joy, bringing her out of mental and emotional shutdown. The way Julie told it, Joy had saved her.
Either way, the woman had become a part of their small family. She wasn’t Mary—but in less than a week, she’d become a sister, just the same.
And then there was Lila...
The morning of the fifth day she was back, after dropping Joy at her temporary school classroom on the premises, Cara found herself knocking on the director’s door. She’d spent time with Lila—in counseling, over a couple of meals with her father, walking the grounds. This was the first time they’d be alone together, and while Cara liked the shelter director, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of her and was feeling oddly nervous.
“Cara, come on in.” Lila greeted her with that kind of half smile she had, showing Cara back to the private suite behind her office. She’d heard of the place, of course. Her father and Joy had spent a couple of weeks there together after Shawn’s release.
In another gray pantsuit—from what she could tell the older woman only owned brown and gray—with her hair in a bun at her nape, Lila was a complete mystery to Cara. Her features were beautiful, much younger than her appearance would have one believe, and yet...her eyes seemed ancient.
Iced tea was waiting for them, glasses on the side table between two floral armchairs that invited cozy chats.
In new black leggings and a black-and-white belted sweater that hung past her thighs, Cara felt like a
new person. And somewhat lost, as well, sitting there.
Cara and Julie had gone shopping—Julie’s suggestion—as Cara hadn’t wanted to wear any of the clothes that were still in the house in Ventura. She wanted no reminders of that life, and her father had already arranged to put the place on the market.
She’d go down sometime in the next weeks, choose the personal things—both hers and Joy’s—that she wanted to keep, and then she’d never have to step back into that life again.
“What can I do for you?” Lila asked, her usual serene expression inviting requests for help.
“I... You...all of you... I couldn’t ask for anything more,” Cara said. “I’m still pinching myself, struggling to believe that this is all real. That you all loved my baby girl...welcomed me... I had no idea places like this even existed. When I think...” She shook her head.
Her feelings could be dealt with in counseling. She was there to get to know Lila better. Because she’d seen the way her father looked at the other woman. Daddy hadn’t said anything to Cara, she supposed out of respect for Cara’s feelings for her mother, but Cara wasn’t blind.
And had no desire to see her father spend the rest of his life alone, either.
They weren’t yet at the point where she felt comfortable telling him so, but she could let Lila know...
“When you think...what?” Lila asked, her gaze fully focused on Cara. She sat there, soaking up that look for a moment, needing it, like a child, suddenly...
She stopped. Lila hardly knew her...and yet... Lila took on all of the residents as though they were her family. You didn’t have to be there for more than a day to see that much. Her residents were her grown children—even the ones who were older than her. They were at the Stand in need of nurturing while they healed, and Lila had an unending well of it to give.
“I should have left him,” Cara said now. “I stayed there, exposing my daughter to...” She shook her head. It wasn’t what she’d come to talk about.
“You did the best you could with what you had, Cara.” Lila’s voice, calm and sure, fell over her like a warm blanket. “And in the end, you offered your life for hers. Put yourself in his path, taking him on, so that Mary could get Joy to safety.”
A Family for Christmas Page 24
