Yesterday's Gone (Two Daughters Book 1)

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Her chest tightened as she remembered the moment when she’d cried on her father.

  Maybe I did learn. I just forgot.

  The ability might be withered from lack of use but still there. A muscle that could be developed.

  “Hey.” He lifted his head so he could see her. “You okay?”

  Flip words rose to her tongue, but she couldn’t say them. “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “That was... It was...”

  “Extraordinary?” He smoothed her hair from her face, his hand gentle. A smile was in his voice, but beneath it, uncertainty. “Amazing?”

  Her cheeks heated. She had to tell him. “It was both. I’ve never, um...you know.” Who’d imagine Bailey Smith was too shy to say, I’ve never had an orgasm? Not her. Live and learn.

  His expression changed. “Never?”

  She shook her head. “I told you I didn’t enjoy sex.”

  “Yeah, but—” He sounded stunned. “You don’t need a man to give you an orgasm.”

  “Just touching yourself doesn’t really do it, you know. I think you have to be able to fantasize. And what was I supposed to fantasize about?”

  Seth was quiet for a minute. “I can see that,” he said thoughtfully.

  “So.” Suddenly she was scared. She’d spent a lifetime disguising her vulnerabilities, and here she was laying them out to be trampled on. Really smart. She needed to change the tone. “Not meaning to stroke your ego too much, but you opened new worlds for me. I may look at men with a slightly different eye now.”

  “No.” He had her flipped onto her back and reared over her so fast, she hadn’t had a hint it was coming. He looked angry. “We’re not interchangeable, Bailey. Is that really what you think?”

  She stared up at smoldering eyes and an angular face set in harsh lines. Protecting herself, she’d hurt him, and he’d given her more in only a few days than almost anyone else ever had. Slowly, she shook her head.

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s not. You’re the first...” Breathe. “The only...” Oh, God. What was she admitting to?

  His face softened. “That’s the way it happens sometimes, whether we’re ready for it or not.”

  Did that mean...he hadn’t been ready, either? Wasn’t sure he wanted whatever was happening between them?

  Oh, good. That freaked her out, too. The truth was, everything happening to her right now was unfamiliar. She didn’t know how to feel about any of it. About any of them. Kirk. Karen. My father and mother. Eve. Most of all, Seth.

  Weight on his elbows, he watched every shifting expression on her face, and she had the disquieting feeling he knew what each and every one meant. Which was especially unsettling considering she didn’t understand all the conflicting emotions that crowded her chest until it ached.

  “You know,” he murmured, “practice makes perfect. We should reinforce tonight’s lessons, don’t you think?” His lips were soft as they skimmed hers. He tickled the corner of her mouth with his tongue, then rubbed a scratchy cheek against hers. The contrast in textures—soft lips, bristly jaw—was unexpectedly erotic.

  She lifted her hands, splaying them on his chest and rubbing gently. His big body shuddered, and she reveled in the power he handed her with his open response to her touch.

  “I think that’s an excellent idea.” She found his small, flat nipples with her fingertips and watched his eyes dilate. “Although you might want to ditch that condom before it gets hard to take off,” she teased.

  “Pun intended?” One side of his mouth lifted in a very sexy smile. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

  She giggled, suddenly feeling buoyantly happy. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  * * *

  EVE BARELY TURNED her head to glance at Seth Chandler’s house when she drove by it.

  It was chance she knew where he lived. He’d certainly never invited her home with him, she thought with a trace of bitterness she knew wasn’t justified.

  As it happened, she had an appointment first thing this morning at a foster home not far from his house. She’d never had one of her kids in this particular home before. Yesterday, she’d looked at the address and realized with dismay where it was. If he saw her passing his house, he’d decide she was some kind of pathetic stalker.

  But an alternate route would take an extra ten minutes of her day, and with her ridiculous caseload she was already running morning to night.

  So Hope was staying here with him. Big surprise. Eve had seen the way he looked at Hope and tried to hide how that made her feel. He’d never once looked at her that way. He wouldn’t have fallen madly in love with her even if Hope— Bailey—had never appeared.

  So live with it.

  In her more honest moments, she suspected her pride was hurt more than her heart. She’d liked him better than he liked her, which wasn’t good for a girl’s ego. And then having him topple at first sight for the adoptive sister she’d already envied for years... Of course that stung.

  So she just wouldn’t look when she went by his house.

  Only there was movement just as she came abreast of it, and without her volition, her gaze flicked to see what it was.

  What she saw was the front door opening and Seth coming out, dressed for work. But he turned back, as if he’d forgotten something. Eve’s gaze went to her rearview mirror as she continued down the block.

  What Seth had turned back for was one last kiss. And even after he broke away, Hope stayed in the open doorway, smiling as she watched him stride to his SUV in the driveway.

  Eve felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. Far enough away she wouldn’t be noticed, she pulled to the side of the road and sat there, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles ached. She was aware of nothing but the hateful, hurtful emotions that filled her until she didn’t know how to contain them.

  It was a long time before they ebbed enough that her body sagged and her head fell back.

  She already felt as if she was losing her parents. They hadn’t guessed how their joy and the fact that they couldn’t talk about anything but Hope, Hope, Hope had wounded her. But she was going to lose them entirely if she couldn’t get past this—or at least learn to fake it better.

  Even the thought of having no one again terrified the little girl inside her who knew all too well what that was like.

  She’ll go back to California. I’ll only have to endure her for occasional holidays.

  Unless she ended up staying because of Seth. Putting Eve firmly and forever in second place.

  Second place was better than not placing at all.

  Or was it?

  Maybe she was the one who should start job hunting, who should move instead of hanging on in her hometown because of that scared little girl who’d been so awed because now she had a family and home, like other kids did.

  She made a ragged sound that was almost a laugh. She might not be a stalker, but pathetic? Oh, yeah.

  * * *

  “LET’S BRING MS. SWANN in for another talk,” Ben said. “Shake her up a little. She might lose some of that composure when she’s not on her home turf.”

  “You know she’ll get a lawyer.”

  “Maybe. She’s cold enough she might not think she needs one.”

  Yeah. Seth could see that. Jordan and Darrell were quite a pair—the one as volatile as TNT, the other as chilly and self-possessed as an iceberg.

  Ben shrugged. “If she lawyers up, that’s because she’s getting nervous.”

  “She’ll be at work by now.”

  Ben’s smile was feral. “All the better.”

  Seth, too, liked the idea of visiting her place of work, which happened to be an insurance office. Lee Kroeger, her employer, currently had a seat on the city council. Conservative as hell, he’d look askance at a receptionist under investigation for murder of the married man with whom she’d been having an affair.

  Seth’s mobile phone rang just as he was pushing back from his desk. He took a look—unfam
iliar number and area code. He held a finger up to Ben and answered.

  “Detective Chandler, this is Sergeant Martin Riser with the Redding Police Department. Northern California,” the man elaborated. “I’m calling because I saw a segment on television about Hope Lawson. I understand you’re the investigator who launched the search for her.”

  Seth’s skin prickled. “That’s correct. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, here’s the thing. I’m with the Major Crimes Unit now, but I spent some time with Sexual Assault.”

  “Did you have an abduction or attempted abduction of a girl who reminds you of Hope?”

  “No,” the sergeant told him. “Actually, it’s the other way around. A few years back, a girl was abandoned in a crummy motel on the outskirts of town. Said her name was Anna. She seemed confused when we asked for a last name. She finally said her ‘daddy’ was Mr. Hawley, so she went into our system as Anna Hawley. We never found a trace of the father or any clue where she came from. She didn’t remember her mother or any other family. No question she’d been sexually molested,” he said grimly. “Battered, too. X-rays showed multiple broken bones from past injuries, some that hadn’t healed quite right. She was skinny and dirty, too, but a real pretty little girl. Blonde and blue eyed.”

  “Just beginning to develop physically?”

  “Yep. We guessed maybe eleven or twelve. She had no idea how old she was. When I saw the story about Hope, I couldn’t help remembering. A lot of similarities. And Hawley and Hamby? Kinda similar names, too.”

  “Yes. How long ago was it that this girl was abandoned in Redding, Sergeant?”

  “I had to look it up. It’s been almost four years. Week before Thanksgiving.”

  Riding a surge of adrenaline, Seth asked, “Is Anna still in a foster home in Redding?”

  “Yes, she is. Occurred to me you might like to talk to her.”

  “I would.” Another witness. Damn, if he could have his way, he’d drive straight to the airport. “Will she be willing?”

  “I haven’t asked her or her foster mom. She was so traumatized then, it wasn’t easy getting any sense out of her. I didn’t want to set her to worrying if you didn’t think it was worth a trip down here.”

  “It’s worth a trip. Will you spell that last name?”

  “H-A-W-L-E-Y. Couldn’t get a first name out of her then.”

  “This could be a real break.” Seth told him what he’d learned so far about Les Hamby’s travels and the effort the FBI was making, too. “I’m thinking your Anna is on this list I’ve been poring over.”

  “Finding her family.” Riser cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t that be something.”

  “I know I’ll never forget the expression on Hope’s mother’s face when she saw her.” He glanced up to see Ben waiting. “Why don’t I call you as soon as I have travel plans nailed down?”

  “That’ll do fine,” the sergeant agreed. “I’ll look forward to meeting you.”

  Seth ended the call, feeling dazed.

  “A break?” Ben asked.

  “A big one. I’m going to see if I can get clearance to fly down to California in the next day or two.”

  Ben clapped him on the back. “Then what say we try to make an arrest today?”

  Seth suspected his own smile was as savage as Ben’s had been earlier. “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE TWIN TURBOPROP plane touched down, bounced and with a thump the wheels made contact with the runway again. Seth heard a tiny whimper from beside him. It wasn’t a surprise. Bailey had been clutching his hand in a painful grip ever since they took off from San Francisco.

  She’d done fine on the Boeing 767 they’d taken from Seattle to San Francisco, although she was quiet during most of the flight. Once she said, “You know, I haven’t flown very often.”

  When he asked, she said she’d flown once to Cabo in Mexico with some friends for a week’s vacation and then from LA to Seattle. That was it.

  Now as the plane braked and they were thrust forward against their seat belts, she gusted out a breath he guessed she’d been holding for some time. “I’m not sure I like to fly,” she confessed.

  “Takes getting used to.” He wasn’t crazy about it, either. He didn’t so much mind heights as he disliked being at the mercy of someone else’s competence. Then there was the fact that he was too large a man to be comfortable in an economy airline seat.

  “We’re here.”

  She made a face. “We still have to get...back.”

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d almost said home, but corrected herself. He took that as encouragement. “One thing at a time.”

  After convincing the department to pay for this jaunt, he’d gotten the idea of bringing Bailey. He thought it would be good for her, and that she might be good for Anna Hawley. He’d offered to pay her airfare, but when the Lawsons heard the plan, they insisted on picking up the cost.

  “Do you know what it would mean to us if we can help some other family find their daughter?” Karen had said, fiercely enough to startle him.

  Seeing her expression, Seth had only been able to nod.

  The plane rolled to a stop by the small terminal and he took down their carry-ons so he and Bailey could join the line exiting the plane. Heat slammed them when they stepped out. Guess we’re not in Seattle anymore, he thought ruefully.

  Sergeant Riser had offered to meet them, but Seth had decided to rent a car. He’d reserved a midsize sedan, and cranked the air-conditioning high the minute he got behind the wheel.

  “Let’s stop by the police station first,” he suggested, “then find a hotel and lunch.” They’d ended up putting the trip off for two days to arrive on a Saturday when Anna wouldn’t have school.

  Bailey nodded. “Okay.” Her tension was visible—left over from the flight, or in anticipation of meeting a girl who’d bring back her own nightmares? Who knew? She’d noticeably clammed up since hearing about Anna.

  Sergeant Riser was middle-aged, tall and lanky with steel-gray hair cut short. He greeted Seth cordially, but his gaze remained riveted on Bailey from first sight.

  “Damn,” he said in a private moment while she was in the ladies’ room. “She looks even more like that drawing in real life than she did on TV.”

  “I did some gaping the first time I saw her,” Seth admitted. And more than a few times since, but for different reasons now. Not that he’d tell anybody else that.

  Riser offered suggestions for hotel and restaurants, and gave Seth a map with an X marked on the foster home. “They’re expecting you at two. Gives you time for lunch.”

  Seth held out his hand. “Thank you. You know you’re welcome to come with us.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t want to overwhelm Anna. Plus...” He hesitated. “Her memories of me might not be the best.” His shrug was awkward. “She got to me. You know how it is sometimes. I’ve kept in touch with her caseworker to make sure she was all right, but that’s all.”

  “She stuck with you well enough you were able to make the connection when you heard about Hope.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed you learn enough to make it worth the trip down here.”

  Bailey came out of the restroom, her gaze going straight to him. She never looked away as she crossed the short distance, not until they were saying their goodbyes and she shook the sergeant’s hand, too. Seth’s heart squeezed every time she looked at him like that. It was as if he was anchoring her.

  They checked into a hotel that looked decent—one room, king bed—and found a sandwich shop. He’d already noticed that Bailey didn’t eat when she was nervous. It took some nagging to get her to finish half her sandwich. Finally he checked his watch.

  “Should be about right if you’re ready.”

  For a fleeting moment, he saw a fragility in her eyes that he knew would stay with him. His admiration for her only increased when she gave a sturdy nod and stood.

  “We don’t want to be late.”


  “No,” he said gently, and took her hand as they walked out into the heat.

  * * *

  BAILEY GAZED OUT the window at the small white clapboard house with one dormer centered above the front door. The lawn was dried brown; the leaves hung limply from the branches of the single tree in the narrow front yard. The Buick in the driveway had a bumper that sagged on one side and a large spot of rust on the fender. No spring chicken, that car.

  Seth was watching her, not the house. He’d kept an eye on her all day and let her crush his hand during the last leg of their flight. Stupid to have nerves jumping in her stomach now.

  She straightened and opened her door. “Looks like they’re here,” she said, sounding stupidly cheerful. What fun this will be! her voice suggested.

  His gaze cut her way, but all he said was, “Should be. It’s two o’clock, on the nose.” A minute later, he joined her on the sidewalk, a folder in one hand. She heard the car door locks snick before he gestured her to go ahead of him up the walk.

  Bailey surreptitiously pressed a hand to her stomach. God, what if they were no sooner invited in than she had to race for the bathroom to puke? What do I have to be afraid of?

  But she knew. The prop plane had been a time machine, carrying her back to see herself at fourteen or fifteen. The Neales hadn’t taken her in yet. Before them, she’d lived with... Weirdly, she couldn’t pull up the names. She could see the faces of the foster parents who had preceded the Neales, the house, her bedroom shared with two other girls, but summoning a name was beyond her.

  On the porch, Seth reached past her to knock, then stepped back and rested a hand on Bailey’s back. It felt so good, warm and strong. She gave herself permission to accept the unspoken support, even lean a little.

  The door opened to reveal a motherly, friendly looking woman with gray-streaked dark hair cut short. She wore Birkenstock sandals, faded jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt with colors that swirled over her ample bosom. Smiling, she stepped back.