Yesterday's Gone (Two Daughters Book 1)

by Janice Kay Johnson

  In no time she fumbled at the buttons on his shirt even as he moved lower and sucked her breast through her thin camisole. Her back arched and she whimpered. Abruptly impatient, he stripped her of the camisole, then took care of the buttons on his cuffs so he could shrug out of his own shirt. Her hands flattened on his chest, where she could feel his heart thundering.

  “I love the way you touch me,” he managed to say, before he went back to licking and kissing and suckling her breasts until small cries broke from her. He lifted his head and thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her eyes were closed, her gold lashes fanned on her cheeks. Her earlier tears had washed away her mascara, making her look softer. The arch of her body bared the long, pale line of her throat, the rich swell of her breasts. Her nipples were hard as pebbles, wet from his mouth.

  A roar suddenly filled his head. As if a switch had been flipped, he went from wanting her to needing her. Now. He’d tried always to be careful with her, but he lost the awareness that he needed to be. Seth yanked back the covers. His hands shook as he pulled down the scrap of blue silk that was all she’d worn besides the camisole. He came down on top of her, thrusting into the cradle of her thighs, too damn close to coming when he hadn’t even got his pants or shoes off.

  He managed to roll to one side and clumsily work at his belt. Bailey sat up and helped, her slim fingers having a dexterity his lacked right now. “Condom,” he growled, and rolled to one side.

  Bailey plucked his wallet from his pocket and he rolled back. The wallet sailed over him and hit the floor. She used her teeth to tear open the packet, then said, “Let me,” when he tried to take the condom from her.

  He groaned at the delicate touch of her fingers on him. She either had no experience putting on a condom or was taking her time. He focused on her intent face, wanting to let her have this much control but not sure he could.

  “There,” she murmured finally, and he flipped her onto her back and thrust hard into her, unable to stop even though his damn trousers were bunched halfway down. He grabbed one of her thighs to spread her legs wide and drove, over and over, his face buried against her neck. But, thank God, she was moving with him, her fingernails biting into his back, the leg he wasn’t gripping enclosing his hips.

  She screamed when her climax hit her. His felt like a tsunami was crashing into him, flipping him until he didn’t know up from down. When the powerful surge ebbed, his entire weight sank down on top of her.

  “I’m crushing you,” he mumbled, but she held him tight.

  “Don’t go.”

  He did finally manage to heave himself to one side, although he didn’t let go of her any more than she did of him. The last thing he knew was the feel of her head resting over his heart, which had damn near beaten its way out of his chest, and he sank into sleep.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BAILEY WAS SITTING at the breakfast bar in Seth’s kitchen with her laptop, checking email, when she heard his key in the door.

  “Seth?”

  “Hey.” He came straight to the kitchen and gave her what was probably meant to be a quick kiss but ended up being a lingering one. As he straightened, his gaze flicked to her computer.

  “My boss really wants to know when I’ll be back.” His emails had been getting more insistent. “I think I’m going to be out of a job if I don’t get back pretty soon.”

  “Can’t you find another one?”

  She arched her eyebrows. “Because waitresses are interchangeable?”

  “You know I didn’t mean that.”

  She wasn’t so sure, but understood he just didn’t want her to go. “The tips are fabulous at Canosa. Waitstaff tend to stick when they find a gig like that. My boss is flexible enough to let me work around my class schedule. So, yes, I could find another job, but probably not one as good.”

  His jaw tightened. “Bailey...”

  She knew what he wanted to talk about, but wasn’t ready. So she hastened into speech.

  “The Lawsons want us to come to dinner.” She’d gone last night, too, which she could tell hadn’t thrilled Seth, but she was in Stimson to get to know her family. She already felt guilty about the day of avoidance followed by the trip to California. “Karen especially hoped you could come, too.” She hesitated. “She said Eve suggested it.”

  His expression didn’t change, but she could feel his reluctance even before he muttered, “Damn.”

  “Hoping you’d come in the door to good smells and a peaceful dinner at home?”

  “Something like that.” He grimaced. “Guess this is one of those invitations you can’t refuse.”

  “You could. I can’t.”

  “Whither thou goest. What time?”

  “Um...ten minutes ago?”

  “All right.” He was obviously resigned.

  As they left the house, he scanned the block, but no paparazzi loitered. Bailey wanted to think they’d given up on her.

  “Did you make an arrest yet?” she asked when he unlocked his SUV.

  “Yeah.” His smile was steely, nothing like the ones he reserved for her. “Jordan Dyer aka Swann. I was wrong. It wasn’t the brother.”

  “She was mad because her lover wouldn’t leave his wife for her.”

  Seth shook his head as he slammed his door and buckled his seat belt. “That’s what it comes down to.” The engine roared to life. “We found an older kid in the brother’s neighborhood who rides his bike a lot and saw her letting herself into his house with a key during the lunch hour the day of the shooting. Darrell’s car wasn’t there. An elderly neighbor who suffers from insomnia heard a car and looked out the window late that night, saw a woman going in and coming back out a minute later. ‘Sneaking in’ was how he described it. Says no lights ever went on in the house. He could see her car under the streetlamp, even remembered the first couple letters from the license plate.”

  Bailey stared at him as he concentrated on backing out of the driveway. “She not only used his gun, she set him up?”

  “Oh, yeah. I told you. Cold.”

  “Is your partner mad at you?”

  “He says he understands.” The restraint in his voice told her that the other detective hadn’t been totally happy to be left to pursue witnesses while Seth flew off to northern California on what must seem like a quixotic quest to him.

  Braking at a stop sign on the main street, Seth checked his rearview mirror then looked at her. “There’s something else. Riser called.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “So soon?”

  “Not soon. He got right on it. He’s found Anna’s family.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off his face, serious and intent on her. “What? Is it bad news?”

  “No. Good. Her parents have divorced since she was abducted, but they both still live in the same town and they’re as thrilled as you’d expect them to be.”

  “Sergeant Riser is sure?”

  “Her DNA is in NamUs, but matching her that way would take time.”

  Bailey already knew about the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System. Her DNA was in it, too.

  “They went the fingerprint route,” Seth continued. “Her name is Gabriella Wilson. Gabby. Her parents live in Tremonton, Utah, which had the advantage for Hamby of being close to the Idaho border.”

  He looked at the rearview mirror again, made a sound in his throat and started forward. She glanced over her shoulder to see that a car had come up behind them and must have been waiting for him to move.

  “Does Anna know?”

  “By now she does. You might want to call her this evening.”

  “I will.” The news shook her up even if it was happy. “I hope...”

  Seth gave her a minute, then prodded. “You hope what?”

  “So many things,” she said quietly. “That her parents are good people. That she has a chance at being a normal teenager when everyone in the world, including the kids she’ll go to school with, will know what happened to her. That...t
hat her parents let her stay in touch with Betty Wade, and that they understand she’s been Anna for a long time now and can’t go back to being their Gabby.” She looked down at her hands, clenched into fists on her lap. “That she’s not too scared. And that she can remember.”

  Seth’s big hand encompassed both of hers. “That’s a lot of wishes.”

  Her throat felt raw. “What she’ll go through isn’t easy, you know.”

  “I do.” His tone was somber. “She’ll have you to help her, won’t she, Bailey?”

  “Yes.”

  He was already braking at the curb in front of the Lawson house. My home. And she wasn’t ready. Apparently, not for anything, she mocked herself. “Thank you for telling me first.”

  “You couldn’t have said what you did in front of your parents. I understand. But they’ll be thrilled that finding you means another family is lucky enough to be bringing their missing child home, too.”

  She thought of the expression on Karen’s face when she’d insisted on paying for Bailey’s airline ticket, and her heart softened. To her astonishment, she was smiling. “You’re right. And you know it’s all your doing, don’t you?”

  He leaned over to kiss her cheek, murmuring, “I gave the first push. You were brave enough to come home.”

  For a moment, she leaned into him, reveling in his scent, his strength. Finally she sat up. “Shall we go tell them?”

  His smile kicked her heart up a gear. “Yeah.”

  Kirk let them in, and seemed pleased when she gave him a quick hug. It was getting easier. All that practice with Seth.

  “Smells good,” Seth said, and Bailey laughed.

  “You say that no matter what’s cooking. You’re just happy to have someone else feeding you.”

  He gave her a slightly wicked grin. “Guilty. And hungry.” Becoming veiled, his gaze went past her. “Eve, nice to see you.”

  Bailey turned, bracing herself, but Eve only smiled, any hostility masked. “I’m glad you could both make it. Mom’s gone all out. Wait until you taste her apple pie.”

  Seth’s stomach rumbled, making them all laugh.

  The dinner menu was traditional: pot roast, flaky sourdough biscuits and a green salad with a dressing that was apparently Karen’s own creation. Bailey’s first bite of the pot roast was a revelation. It was so good it seemed to activate some pleasure center in her brain. This could be her favorite meal. She took a second bite, chewed, swallowed—and froze.

  Not could be.

  This was my favorite meal. I liked Mom’s spaghetti and her chicken with stuffing, but pot roast was the best.

  Concern in his eyes, Seth had quit eating and was watching her. A quick glance told her no one else seemed to have noticed her moment of paralysis.

  I remember.

  There were two old apple trees in the backyard, a Gravenstein and a Yellow Transparent. Dad had grumbled about them, because the grass didn’t grow well beneath their spreading branches and the Yellow Transparent in particular tended to drop apples that squished and did further damage to the lawn. Bailey had stepped on them running barefoot in the yard, and ick. It was almost as bad as stepping barefoot on a slug. But Mom canned applesauce, and she said the Transparents were the absolute best for that even though they were too soft to be good eating apples. The Gravensteins were for pies and cobblers. When they were ripe, she’d slice and freeze them. Bailey loved Mom’s applesauce and her pies.

  On previous visits, she had vaguely noticed the two big trees in the backyard without thinking about them. As if a door had opened in her mind, she heard her voice, girlish and demanding: Daddy, lift me up! In her heart was complete faith that he would smile, swing her up in his strong arms and settle her carefully on a fat limb, his big hands steadying her until she was balanced. In a dizzying vision, she was looking down at him, staying where he could catch her, making her feel completely safe.

  Her heart squeezed. And then one day I wasn’t safe at all. How he must have suffered, that he hadn’t been there when she needed him most.

  “I used to climb the apple trees, didn’t I? Dad helped me.”

  Eve had been in the middle of saying something. She stopped midword and everyone stared at Bailey.

  “Yes,” her father said, his eyes warm and filled with pain at the same time. “The branches are wide and low.” He smiled at Eve. “Both of you loved to climb up into those trees, especially the Gravenstein. It has sturdier limbs.”

  Bailey felt so strange, part of her in the present, part in the past. “This was my favorite meal. Pot roast.”

  “Yes.” Tears brimmed in her mother’s eyes even as her smile trembled. “I made it tonight because—” She broke off and pressed her fingers to her mouth as if to stifle a sob.

  “Why am I remembering now?”

  “Maybe you gave yourself permission,” Seth suggested. Without her noticing, he’d taken her hand under the table in a reassuring grip.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Eve. “I interrupted you.”

  “I don’t even know what I was saying.” Eve’s eyes were shadowed, but her smile was wide. “Maybe going to see that other girl has something to do with you opening yourself to memories.”

  “Maybe,” Bailey murmured.

  Seth gave her an assessing glance, then chose that moment to tell them that Anna had been identified and her family found.

  Talking about her took them halfway through the meal. Karen and Kirk were as thrilled as Bailey had known they would be. The fact that Bailey was mostly quiet seemed to go unnoticed.

  Finally Eve nodded at Bailey and Seth with what appeared to be respect. “She’s a lucky girl.”

  “But probably scared to death right now,” Bailey said, recovering her voice.

  “With the prospect of a real family instead of a foster home?” Eve countered.

  “Anna has been in the same foster home for almost four years, since she was left in Redding. There seemed to be real affection between her and her foster mom. And...she doesn’t remember anything from before.”

  Pain showed on Karen’s face. “But...it hasn’t been as many years for her.”

  “Enough,” Seth put in. “Anna was only five when she disappeared, even younger than Bailey was.”

  Karen’s mouth tightened briefly. She hadn’t said so, but Bailey could tell she wanted everyone to call her Hope. That insistence was one of Bailey’s stumbling blocks.

  “It will be a big adjustment,” Eve said unexpectedly. “When I came here, I wanted to believe in the promise, but I didn’t know how. Having my own bedroom, and such a nice one, felt unreal. And the clothes—” She shook her head. “All I’d had before was clothes that came from donations handed out at school.”

  Bailey nodded her understanding. In Los Angeles, it was Operation School Bell that provided clothes for kids in impoverished circumstances. She’d been both grateful for them and humiliated. It had been especially hard for a teenager who wanted to look like the other girls who wore jeans that probably cost more than the monthly stipend her foster parents received that was supposed to pay for everything, including food.

  “I didn’t want to do anything that would get me sent back.” Eve’s eyes were unfocused. “You know.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Bailey saw how appalled Karen looked. She might have heard this before and understood, but wanted to believe in a rosy tale of the pretty little ragamuffin who became a princess once she crossed their doorstep.

  Eve gave herself a shake and her dark eyes regained focus. “You’re right, Bailey. It won’t be easy for Anna. I hope her family isn’t so deeply religious that they have trouble dealing with the fact she was sexually molested.”

  “I had the same thought,” Bailey admitted. “I promised to stay in touch with her. In fact, I’m going to call her tonight, after Seth and I are back at his house.”

  Eve nodded. “Good. Having you to talk to will be invaluable. Here you are, going through some of the same experience except as an adult.”<
br />
  Bailey sometimes forgot that Eve was not only a former foster child herself, but a caseworker who supervised children in both their own homes and foster homes under court order. She could do more than empathize; she knew what those children were going through.

  “I won’t forget her,” Bailey said. Realizing nobody was eating, she slipped her hand from Seth’s and reached for her biscuit. A bite, and she hummed in pleasure. After swallowing, she smiled at Karen. “This is the absolute best dinner I’ve ever eaten.”

  Looking flustered, Karen smiled back. “Thank you. Oh, my. I hate to think what both you girls went through.”

  “Then let’s not think about it anymore tonight,” Seth suggested. “The present is looking pretty good to me.”

  Bailey felt his gaze. She didn’t meet it, but she did reach beneath the tablecloth and lay her hand on his thigh, just for a moment.

  Eve asked whether Bailey was thinking about grad school once she had her BA, and told her about the master’s degree program in social work at the University of Washington. “It’s kind of a natural field for people with our background to go into.” She wrinkled her nose. “Although the pay mostly sucks.”

  “Law enforcement, too,” Seth agreed.

  “I have thought about social work,” Bailey said. “But also becoming a therapist. The last one I had helped me so much. I’m not sure I’m together enough to be qualified, but then I’ve read that psychiatrists mostly go through psychoanalysis themselves, and they’re doctors. Maybe if a therapist is too, well, normal, she’d be impatient with clients that weren’t.”

  Eve laughed. “You have a point. Even when I do understand what they’re going through, some of the kids I deal with make me really impatient.”

  “I get exasperated with myself,” Bailey heard herself confess. “I’m so good at, I don’t know, blocking out anything I don’t want to deal with.” Like what I’m going to do about these feelings for Seth, who once again was watching her with his eyes slightly narrowed. Because he knows what I’m thinking. Of course he did.