Yesterday's Gone (Two Daughters Book 1)

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “Maybe,” Eve remarked, “to survive you had to practice denial. Make yourself live in the moment.”

  All Bailey could think was, Yes. “That sounds so obvious,” she said after a minute. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  Her adoptive sister’s expression was both friendly and understanding. Which of course made Bailey suspicious, but maybe that said more about her than it did about Eve.

  The apple pie à la mode was every bit as good as promised. By that time, Bailey was too full to have more than a small slice, but Seth happily consumed enough to make up for part of her share. She shuddered at the thought of how hard it was going to be to go back to the gym once she was home.

  And then there was her empty apartment.

  Won’t think about that right now.

  She caught herself about to roll her eyes. Geez. Denial in action.

  When Karen and Eve rose to start clearing the table, Bailey joined them. Karen shook her head at Seth, who started to push back from the table, too. “You keep Kirk company. My kitchen isn’t big enough for four of us.”

  They’d already begun loading the dishwasher before serving the pie, so cleaning up didn’t take long. Bailey wanted to go home and call Anna, but—

  Fear swamped her. Not home. She couldn’t believe she’d thought that. Home away from home, sure.

  The panic quelled, she thought, It’s time.

  “Would you mind if I go look at my bedroom?” she asked Karen, at a moment when Eve had gone back to the dining room for something.

  Her mother’s eyes widened. “Of course you can! I kept it just the way it was in hopes it would bring back good memories for you.”

  That still sounded creepy to Bailey, but she smiled as if maintaining a household shrine to a missing child for twenty-three years was the kind of thing everybody did.

  “Can I go alone? Just for a few minutes?”

  Karen’s face fell, but then she gave a gentle, luminous smile. “Nobody will notice if you sneak away right now. I’ll finish here. Shoo.” She flapped her hands.

  Bailey stepped quietly from the kitchen into the hall, then hurried down it. Part of her wanted Seth with her, but the other part knew she couldn’t afford to become so dependent on him, not when she’d be returning to her regularly programmed life in a matter of days. A life that didn’t include him.

  But maybe later, after I graduate...

  Oh, why was she even thinking about this? Seth hadn’t exactly gone down on bended knee.

  Like I’d drop out of school even if he did. She had the confused thought that asking her to give up finishing her degree wasn’t something he’d ever do, not when he talked about admiring her for being self-made.

  She shook off thoughts of him when she came to that closed bedroom door. Just looking at it made her heart race. Her hand trembled when she reached for the doorknob, but she didn’t let herself hesitate. She knew nothing bad had happened here. The disconcerting part was that she’d remembered this bedroom when everything else was gone, even the people who had loved her.

  She turned on the light, stepped inside, and went completely still. Oh, my dolls. Some were porcelain, and she’d understood she couldn’t play with them, but she loved them anyway, and she had plenty of others that weren’t breakable. Two long, white-painted shelves ran the length of one wall, and were crowded with dolls. On the top shelf were the porcelain, collectible ones—babies, princesses, fairy-tale characters, and one that looked just like her, with silver-blond hair and bright blue eyes.

  Below—some of those were more ragged. All their eyes seemed to be on her, standing just inside the door staring. Her eyes filled with tears. This felt more like a dam breaking than a door opening. Snippets, all jumbled together—there and then not there as more poured out, tumbling over each other.

  The bed—oh yes, it was exactly as she recalled it. She could lie on her back and stare up at the white lace canopy. A hot pink boa hung from one bedpost. She saw herself tossing it around her neck. She’d loved to dress up and model for her parents or perform cheerleader routines or concerts. Oh, heavens—Jem and the Holograms. She’d wanted her hair dyed pink, too, and Mommy said maybe for Halloween, only that Halloween never came because...

  Don’t think about that.

  And Rainbow Brite. She’d loved that cartoon, and the doll...yes, there she was. She flinched, because she’d had another Rainbow Brite doll later. No wonder she’d clung so to that doll.

  A bookcase was still filled with stories she’d loved. The white-painted trunk with gold trim at the foot of the bed had held her dress-up clothes and accessories. Would they still be in it? As if in a dream, she moved forward, lifting the lid and—yes. On top were the yards of white tulle that could be a wedding veil or a ballerina skirt or anything she could imagine. Bailey fell to her knees, lifting it out, finding the paper grass hula skirt and cheerleader pom-poms and grown-up-size high heels she’d teetered around in. I was such a girlie girl, she thought in amazement.

  There was a tiara, now shedding its sparkles, and a wand with a fountain of ribbons shimmering from the tip. Pink ballerina shoes and other bits of cloth and grown-up clothes that could be anything at all her imagination had been able to conjure. Tears blurred Bailey’s vision as she plopped down to sit cross-legged, the dress-up clothes heaped around her. From here, she could just see the stuffed animals on the bed, covered with a comforter sporting golden-haired princesses posed with unicorns in front of castles.

  It was all so absurdly—perfect. The little girl’s dream bedroom. I was spoiled rotten, she couldn’t help thinking. Although the room hadn’t been anywhere near this neat when she lived in it. Sometimes it was ankle-deep in toys and dirty clothes, until Mommy made her put everything away. Mommy had got especially mad when she found dirty dishes in here.

  “You’re lucky you don’t have an ant colony in your carpet,” she would scold.

  Openly crying now, Bailey heard a soft noise behind her and swiveled on her butt to see who had followed her.

  Karen—Mommy—was already crying at the sight of her. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I will never forgive myself.” And then she fell to the floor, too, and wrapped her arms around Bailey, who wept against her shoulder. “Never, never, never,” she whispered.

  At last the sense of what she was saying penetrated, and Bailey pulled back to stare at her mother. “Why?”

  “Why?” Karen blinked at her.

  They even cried alike, Bailey couldn’t help thinking.

  “What is it you can’t forgive yourself for?” she asked. She used a child’s skirt that looked washable to wipe her face, then offered it to her mother.

  “Oh, this is too nice...” Half laughing, she blew her nose on it, then crumpled the fabric in her hand. “If I hadn’t been late that day—”

  “He’d have found another opportunity,” Bailey said flatly.

  “But if he just happened to see you...”

  “You know the chances are good he’d been stalking me, waiting for his chance.”

  “He might have grabbed you because you were alone.”

  Instinct had Bailey shaking her head. “No. From what Seth has found out, he liked blonde, blue-eyed girls of a certain age. What are the odds he stumbled on his prime prey when she was briefly unprotected? He might have been watching me for days, Mom. If he hadn’t gotten me that day, he could have sneaked through the gate into the backyard when I was out there alone, or grabbed me when I was riding my bike.” A pink bike, of course. She remembered it vividly. She’d been allowed to ride up and down the street if she watched very carefully for traffic and always wore her helmet.

  “I should have been there.”

  “You couldn’t always be. It’s impossible. It was not your fault. It was his.” Her voice went flat and hard. “He’s evil.”

  She lifted her gaze past her mother to see that Seth filled the doorway. The compassion and grief on his face made her heart swell. He never looked at her with pity. That, she
couldn’t have stood.

  Suddenly Karen gripped her hand. “You called me Mom.” New tears filled her eyes. “You do remember.”

  Lips trembling, Bailey nodded. And finally she tore her gaze from Seth’s and, this time, took her mother in her arms.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BAILEY SCROLLED THROUGH the upper level psych classes offered at the University of Washington. Just to see, she told herself.

  Implicit and Unconscious Cognition. Gee, maybe she’d learn something about denial.

  Stress and Coping sounded up her alley, too. There were plenty of other classes that appealed to her, too: Social and Moral Development, Human Factors, Judgment and Decision Making.

  She had all the basics out of the way already, including Abnormal Psych, Learning and Memory, classes in statistics and research methodology even though she knew she wouldn’t pursue research.

  She allowed herself a wistful moment before closing the website. She was already registered for her fall classes, and looking forward to them. Even if she wanted to transfer, it was too late for fall quarter. The UW was competitive enough not to have spots sitting open waiting for the student who decided at the end of August that, gee, she might like to change schools.

  I couldn’t afford out-of-state tuition anyway, she reminded herself—then had the startled thought that she’d probably qualify for in-state, now that she had parents who lived in Washington.

  It didn’t matter, she told herself firmly. She was committed. She could consider applying for grad school up here, if that’s the direction she intended to go. She might like to be closer to her parents. Having her nearby would make them happy, and she was beginning to think she’d like to really get to know them.

  Something to think about, she told herself briskly. Seth—well, no matter how tenderly he’d made love to her last night, she was afraid to believe anything could come of it.

  Time to start dinner. She’d had lunch again with her father, then called her boss at Canosa, who had reluctantly agreed to give her five more days.

  She’d been drifting, but now she had a deadline. Should have bought her airline ticket, she realized. After dinner.

  Tonight’s meal would be a ginger-beef stir-fry over brown rice. Perfect because she could slice everything, then wait until Seth arrived to actually start cooking. Dinners that took an hour and a half or more to cook weren’t so good, given a cop’s irregular hours. She mulled over ones that could be reheated easily. She made a fabulous minestrone soup, if she did say so herself, and reheating that would never be a problem.

  Suddenly chilled, she thought, I’ll be here only a few more nights. To make it back to work in five days, she should leave in four days. Or less, depending on when she could fly cheapest. Probably she’d have dinner at least a couple more times at her parents’. She didn’t need to plan a whole lot of menus to accommodate Seth.

  She was reading a text on her phone when Seth got home.

  The sight of him hit her hard, as it always did. Maybe more tonight, because of that deadline. He was just so solid. Big enough to make her feel dainty, even though she wasn’t really. Handsome wasn’t the right word for him, but his face was so male. Angular, hard, and yet capable of the tenderness she’d seen on his face last night.

  She even liked his everyday garb of slacks and white shirt. Ridiculously, his badge and gun made her feel safe. She didn’t know why, since what he did also scared her more than a little. He’d been so casual about having to pull his weapon on a guy going for his own gun. Maybe women who were, well, in a long-term relationship with a cop became inured to the anxiety, or just more philosophical in a “what will be, will be” way.

  On an exhalation that left her emptied out, she knew that what was most powerful was the way he looked at her, as if nothing and no one else existed. There was such intensity there, as if he was reading her every fear and hope.

  And, okay, that was scary, too.

  “Good day?” he asked, kissing her lightly.

  “Um...it was okay.” She lifted the phone. “I could get my last year of school totally paid for if I wanted to sell my story to a tabloid.”

  “What?” Frowning, he took the phone from her. Head bent, he read the text. “Sleazy bastards.”

  “It’s a lot of money.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re thinking of taking it?”

  Bailey made a face. “Not a chance. For that kind of bucks, they’d want their money’s worth. Details, details, details. And sex sells, right?”

  “Brutalizing a child isn’t sex,” he said grimly. “It’s a crime.”

  That warmed her. She accepted the phone back from him and deleted the text.

  “You might need to change your phone number,” he suggested.

  “If I hear from any other reporters, I will.” She let go of the worry. “I’ll start cooking.”

  A smile wiped the momentary bleak expression from his face. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

  She opened her mouth but closed it before she could say something stupid. Like, How else can I repay you for what you did for me? That would only piss him off. And it wasn’t even true. She was bored. What else was she supposed to do? And she liked to cook. She didn’t get a chance to do that much of it at home. Either she was tired and wanted something quick, or she was taking advantage of the free meal at the restaurant on her working nights.

  Seth disappeared, returning once he’d changed into jeans and sweatshirt. Bailey turned down his offer to help, then related some of the things Kirk had told her about her childhood and what the years after the abduction had been like.

  “A lot of marriages fail under that kind of stress,” Seth commented.

  She stirred the rice then restored the lid. “I actually asked if he ever blamed Mom. I mean, she blames herself. You heard her, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” His brown eyes were wary. “I lurked outside the bedroom after Karen went in.”

  “Nosy.”

  “I wouldn’t be much good at my job if I wasn’t.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “I suppose that’s true.” As she scraped the sliced and marinated flank steak into the wok, where the oil already sizzled, Bailey continued. “Anyway, Dad—um, Kirk—said no. Never, not for one minute.” She pondered that for a moment. “He’s a really nice man.”

  “Yeah,” Seth said gently. “I think he is.”

  “I keep thinking about Anna today.” Her parents would already be in Redding, the first meeting over—or still happening. Probably they were having dinner at Betty’s. “It’ll be weird for her, having a sister and brother to get to know, too.”

  “Her mother didn’t remarry, though.”

  She had no doubt he was curious to find out where she was going with this, but he gave her space to get there on her own. Do I have a direction in mind? Almost at random, she said, “I wonder if their divorce has anything to do with her abduction.”

  “I had the same thought and checked on the timing. They separated not much over a year later. Doesn’t mean either blamed the other. Emotions are heightened, though.”

  “I was looking at class offerings today online, and saw one called Stress and Coping.” And why did I tell him that? Or...was that where she’d been going? What if he asked whether that was a class she’d be taking? How to say, um, it’s not available at USC? She continued hastily, “Stress is a chicken-and-egg thing. Marital problems, or parent-teenager conflict, cause stress, but also can arise in the first place because other stresses are present.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” A glint of amusement in his eyes made her realize she’d sounded like a professor pontificating in front of the class. “You might want to check that rice,” he added.

  Bailey whipped the lid off the pan and saw that he was right. The water was gone and the rice was already sticking to the bottom. Even so, she rolled her eyes. “Backseat driver.”

  Now he grinned. “Happy to offer advice when you need it.”

&
nbsp; “Next time, you can cook. But for tomorrow night I was wondering if you’d mind if I invited Mom and Dad here for dinner. It seems only fair.”

  “You know I don’t mind.”

  “I feel like I should take a turn. I mean, it may be my only chance, unless they fly down to visit me.” She was careful not to look at him. Part of her wanted him to say something—and part of her didn’t. She was too mixed-up to give him any kind of answer to whatever he asked of her.

  Seth didn’t say a word. Thank goodness, she told herself.

  “Then I will,” she said brightly. “If I aim for six o’clock, do you think you can make it home?”

  His “I’ll do my best” was terse.

  “I thought about inviting Eve, too, but...” She hesitated, examining her discomfiture. “Did you ever have her over? I mean, when you were dating?”

  “No.” Terse had become curt.

  “It would be sort of awkward, wouldn’t it? Maybe I’ll take her out to lunch one of these days instead,” Bailey decided. She turned off and unplugged the wok. “I think we’re ready to eat.”

  Without being asked, Seth poured milk and carried the glasses to the table she’d set earlier, then went back to carry one of the serving bowls.

  Bailey made a production of dishing up. “Back to Anna,” she said. “It’s good her mom and dad both went to get her, even though they’re divorced.”

  He grunted. “Hope they’re in agreement on custody.”

  “Oh, Lord! I didn’t even think of that.”

  His eyes met hers for the first time in a few minutes. “Do you know whether they’re taking her home right away?”

  “They’re giving the handover some time, thank goodness. I don’t know if Sergeant Riser talked to them, or they’re just using common sense, but the plan is for them to stay at least a couple of nights in Redding. Visit, but leave her at the foster home tonight, maybe have her stay with them tomorrow night, but still let her go back and say goodbye to Mrs. Wade. Anna said they promised not to hurry her if she needs more time than that. She’s freaked with a little excitement percolating under there. I kind of wish I could meet them, even though that’s silly when I barely know her.”