Undeniably Yours

by Heather Webber

  He was wise, kind, and the best kind of good.

  He was joy.

  “I’m good,” I insisted, trying to reassure him, even though I suddenly felt like sobbing. “Really.”

  “Such lies you tell,” he said with a chastising look.

  “I’d never,” I lied, beating back the tears with an emotional baseball bat.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Are you going to hog her all day?” a female voice asked from behind him.

  With a sigh, he stepped aside to shake Aiden’s hand and said to him, “Glad to see you’re not missing after all.”

  Maggie Constantine gave me a hug. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, and her eyes shone with a vitality that came from an energy that radiated within her. “You’re doing okay?” she asked, echoing Raphael’s concern.

  “I’m good,” I repeated and nodded enthusiastically, swinging that mental bat around like I was aiming for a Twinkie-filled piñata.

  She searched my gaze, too, and gave me a smile. She didn’t know me as well as Raphael—it was easier to be deceptive. Turning her focus to Aiden, she teased, “I thought we were going to have to send out a search party for you. I was taking up a collection of Tic Tacs.”

  Aiden’s gaze flicked to me. “Word gets around fast.”

  I smiled. “Welcome to my world.”

  Another couple came in, blinking as they adjusted to the lighting after being out in the sunshine. Raphael said, “Let me get these customers settled, then I’ll be back to see you.”

  “No rush,” I said, crutching out of the way. “We’re staying for lunch.”

  “Wonderful!” Maggie ushered us to a booth near the front windows. “Sit, sit.”

  As I set my crutches into the booth and slid in next to them, the scent of garlic wafted in the air along with something else, something nuttier. Roasted pine nuts maybe. It was so nice to smell something other than smoke.

  “Hungry?” she asked, putting menus in our hands.

  There was nothing Maggie liked more than feeding people.

  Well, maybe Raphael.

  “Starving,” I said.

  Aiden only smiled. He was humoring me with this lunch, but I wasn’t going to complain. More than food, I’d needed the visit with Raphael. Aiden and I both ordered lemonades and Maggie rushed off. She rarely moved at any speed other than fast.

  Aiden shook out his napkin and placed it on his lap and looked out the window. Even though he sat directly across from me, I could tell he was somewhere far, far away.

  “We’ll find her,” I said.

  His gaze snapped to me. “What then, Lucy?”

  What then? It was a good question—one I didn’t have an answer to.

  “If she’s alive, is she going to fight me for shared custody? Because I’m not letting Ava go. Now that I know about her, I’m not stepping aside to let her slip seamlessly back into her old life.”

  I hadn’t needed any kind of psychic ability to predict that Aiden wouldn’t let Ava out of his life after all this was said and done. All it had taken was one look at him this morning cuddling the little girl to know he’d fallen head over heels for her.

  “And sure as hell,” he added scathingly, “I’m not letting that jackhole Trey Fisher raise my daughter…”

  I lifted an eyebrow and fought a smile. Fought it hard. Aiden rarely cursed. “Jackhole?”

  A smile teased the corners of his lips. “I might be being a bit harsh, but you know his reputation.”

  I did. Womanizer. Temperamental. Conceited.

  Not exactly a father figure.

  “They haven’t been dating long,” I said. “I doubt marriage is on the table at this point.”

  He glared.

  I got the message. He needed to vent.

  “Carry on,” I said.

  “On the flip side of that, if Kira’s dead…,” he began, then shook his head. After a second, he cleared his throat. “If she’s dead, how can I explain to Ava that I waited days to look for her mother?”

  “Aiden, you can’t—”

  “Here you go,” Maggie said, sliding two frosty glasses of lemonade onto the tabletop. She quickly rattled off the daily specials, and the passion she had for her food was evident in the way she described each meal. I ordered a chicken spinach wrap, and Aiden ordered gazpacho. She rushed off, and I couldn’t help but smile at her zest for life.

  On the surface, it didn’t seem like she would be a good fit for Raphael. He loved the Red Sox, she loved the Yankees. He loved eighties music, she loved classical. He was quiet, she was loud. Yet, the undeniable chemistry between them was palpable. And, of course, there were the auras. My father had known from the moment he met Maggie that she was the one to fill the void in Raphael’s heart. Dad had leased this space to her at the fraction of the cost so she and Raphael could find their way to each other. Turned out, their internal navigational systems were a wee bit off course. It had taken my interference (I wanted full credit) to get them to finally look at each other. A whirlwind relationship later and they were engaged and living together.

  It never ceased to amaze me how little it took to completely change the direction of someone’s life. For good…or for bad.

  I ran my fingers up and down my glass, drawing in the condensation. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for what might or might not have happened to Kira.”

  His jaw jutted.

  Because he knew I spoke the truth, I didn’t press. Instead, I refocused the conversation. “It sure seems as though that doll was a warning to Kira about the McDaniel case.”

  “Yes.” He ripped the paper from his straw and jabbed it into his drink. “I keep thinking about that note. It feels like someone went to an exaggerated length to make us believe they were uneducated. Why?”

  It did, in fact, seem that way. I was fairly sure a third grader had better writing skills than whoever penned the note. “If I had to guess, someone well-educated wrote it.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too.”

  Ice cubes clinked against my glass as I slid it between my hands. “How much do you recall about Dustin McDaniel?”

  “Not as much as I’d like right now. My files on him are at the office.”

  “Do you recall the parental situation?” I asked. “How did the state get involved in the first place?”

  He said, “Mother had a problem with drugs, father is in prison. I don’t know how the CFC became involved. There was supposed to be regular checks by his social worker, but somewhere along the line, he fell through the cracks in the system. After his disappearance was uncovered, his case worker was fired and her supervisor was suspended.”

  Sometimes the cracks in the system felt like chasms. “We’re going to have to talk to Dustin’s case worker and possibly her supervisor.”

  Aiden slowly shredded his straw wrapper. “It might be best if we split up tomorrow. Can you drive with that boot?”

  “Yep. I mastered it last week.”

  Raphael set two plates on the table. He slid into the booth next to me. “You two look quite serious over here. Working?”

  “New missing person case,” I said.

  “Adult? Child?” Raphael asked.

  “Both,” I said.

  I was about to launch into the whole story when the front door swung open and a loud female voice said, “You’re impossible!”

  The man she was with said drolly, “So I’ve been told a thousand times.”

  “If the truth fits,” she returned.

  “A thousand and one.” The man sighed.

  Raphael smirked and elbowed me. “True love.”

  “Where’s Raphael?” the woman said as she spun around. “He’ll agree with—LucyD!” my mother squealed when she spotted me. She rushed over to the table, immediately abandoning her companion.

  He didn’t look fazed. My father was used to it.

  Raphael scooted out of the booth, and my mother gave him a quick hug, and set a pile of binders on the table b
efore taking his spot next to me.

  “Let me look at you,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. She tsked. “You look tired.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  She beamed, her hazel eyes bright and shiny. “What are mothers for if not telling the truth?”

  I was about to give her a whole list that didn’t including telling their daughters they essentially looked like crap, but then I glanced at Aiden and remembered a little girl who didn’t know where her mother was. I took another bite of my sandwich as Mum launched into hellos with him.

  My parents were also a case of opposites attracting. Dad was polished whereas Mum was wild. Her platinum hair was cut short in a messy pixie style, and her eyelids glittered from sparkly eye shadow. A deep purple tunic with white embroidery flattered her shapely figure, and bangle bracelets clanked on her arm as she spoke with her hands. She was a flowerchild at heart and was a tireless defender of every cause around. She loved fiercely. Everything from the sound of the ocean to delectable desserts; her music students, her family, and her strange complicated relationship with my father.

  My dad and Raphael had their heads bent—no doubt my father was ordering something not on the menu. My dad was classic Hollywood handsome. Tall, dark and debonair. Montgomery Clift with brown eyes (minus the addiction problems). Impeccably dressed, his silver-flecked hair was slicked back, and as his gaze turned to me, his eyes warmed. He leaned across the table to give my forehead a peck, then shook Aiden’s hand and sat next to him.

  “I hear you’re being impossible,” I said to Dad.

  He straightened his tie. “I fear people across town heard as well.”

  My mother silently mimicked him, then said, “It’s good to see you, Aiden. I heard you were missing for a while.”

  Aiden looked at me. “It doesn’t get old.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

  “Were you undercover?” Mum asked him. “Dressed as a motorcycle gang member or infiltrating a drug cartel? Did you get a tattoo?” Before he could answer, Mum turned to me. “I’m thinking about a tattoo.”

  “Dear God,” my father said.

  My mother wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe Dovie and I can get matching tattoos of your father’s face, so he can always be with us.”

  Now I knew she was only kidding. Despite their current reconciliation, the only long-lasting tribute to my father she wanted was me.

  My father’s strong jaw slid to the side and stayed there as his nostrils flared—a sure sign he was reaching his tolerance peak. “I’m not dying.”

  “Not yet,” my mother replied, smiling sweetly, a murderous glint in her eye. “Give it time. Five, ten minutes or so.”

  Ah, love.

  “Amusing,” my father intoned.

  Mum arched a thin blond eyebrow and returned her attention to Aiden. “Have you spoken with Em yet? She was quite worried.”

  “This morning.” His mouth went back to being tight again.

  “Good, good.” She narrowed her gaze on him. “Is everything good between you two?”

  Aiden gave me a “help me” look.

  It was Dad who came to the rescue. “Good god, woman, let the man breathe.”

  “Impossible,” my mother mumbled.

  “Raphael says you’re working, Lucy,” Dad said, turning the focus on me. “I thought you were taking some time off?”

  “There are some cases you can’t say no to,” I answered with a shrug.

  “You can always say no,” my father said quite seriously. “You should go home and rest.”

  “No,” I said.

  My mother tipped her head back and laughed.

  “Not funny, Lucy,” Dad murmured, rubbing his temples.

  I was quite certain my mother and I were the sole source of his migraines.

  “Oh, lighten up, Oscar,” Mum countered. To Aiden and me, she added, “He’s cranky.”

  He was cranky. She was murderous. It was just another day in their relationship.

  “Why?” Aiden asked, pushing aside his empty soup bowl.

  I was happy to see he’d eaten something. I had the feeling it was the first food in days.

  Mum said, “Because I vetoed his renovation plans.”

  My father let out a loud sigh. “In an autocracy, there is no veto power, Judie.”

  “This King of Love stuff is going to your head, Oscar.” My mother looked at me and said, “He wants to combine the second and third floors into one space with lots of glass and teak and no. No, no, no.” She pulled a print of a floor plan from one of her binders.

  I studied the page. “I kind of like it.”

  “The betrayal!” my mother said softly, clutching her heart.

  “Not the glass or the teak, but the layout,” I explained. The space combined the matchmaking and investigation offices.

  “You’re two-thirds forgiven,” Mum said. “The character of the building cannot be sacrificed. The wood, the brick, the charm.”

  “Agreed, agreed, agreed.” I liked the idea of us all being one big team, but I didn’t know how Sam would take losing his space. “You’ll want to run this by Sam before settling on any certain plan.”

  “It’s my building,” my father said. “I’ll make the decisions.”

  I glanced at my mother. “The king thing has gone to his head.”

  “He’s impossible these days, I’m telling you.” She let out a deep breath. “I think it’s the grandpa thing. He’s not adjusting well to the news that he’s old enough to have a grandchild.”

  My father looked at Aiden. “Kill me now.”

  I smiled. “Aw. Grandpa. So cute. But he looks more like a Grampy to me.”

  “Don’t make me disown you,” he snapped.

  “How’s Preston doing?” Mum asked. “Have you heard from her today?”

  “Earlier. She’s feeling fine, but Dovie’s trying to make her watch ballroom dancing. She’s thinking about flinging herself into the ocean.”

  “Smart girl,” my father muttered.

  I heard my phone chirp and fished in my tote bag for my cell.

  “Is that Sean?” my mother asked. “How’s he doing?”

  It was Sean—a text message. “Better,” I said, swiping the screen until Sean’s message appeared. I read the words, looked up at Aiden, and said, “We need to go.”

  He looked more than ready. My parents in a tiff tended to have that effect on people.

  My father stood out of the way as Aiden pulled his wallet from his inner coat pocket.

  Dad put his hand on Aiden’s. “I’ve got it.”

  “Thanks, Oscar,” Aiden said.

  “What’s going on?” Mum questioned as she inched out of the booth to let me pass.

  I dragged my crutches out. “Just something with our case.”

  “Oh, top secret. I get it,” she said. “Tattoos?”

  “No,” I said. No way. No how. No needles. Never. Ever.

  Then she whispered to me, “You’ll tell me later?”

  I kissed her cheek, then my father’s. “Don’t kill each other, okay?”

  They glanced at each other, then at me. “No promises,” they said at the same time.

  I was shaking my head as I crutched away. I said my goodbyes to Raphael and Maggie, and as Aiden held the door open to me, a blast of heat nearly had me backtracking into the cool air.

  “What’s up?” Aiden asked once we were alone.

  “That was Sean. He said Channel 3 is airing breaking news coverage of Kira’s disappearance. We need to get to her house before every news van in the city does.”

  6

  Needham was a good half hour drive in decent traffic. Southwest of the city, it was an upper-class town where people took pride in their homes, their yards, and their privacy.

  Aiden hadn’t needed directions to Kira’s place—leaving me to assume he’d been there before. Once off the highway, it was like he was on autopilot. Right, left, left, straight. Finally, he turned right onto a residential tree-lined street
, pulled across the street from a large picture-perfect Cape Cod-style home, complete with a white picket-fenced yard and tall trees shading the yard.

  “No one’s here yet,” he said, stating the obvious as he tossed a Tic Tac into his mouth. He offered one to me, and I waved it away.

  We crossed the street, the sound of my crutches clunking on the asphalt. I stopped to hitch my tote bag higher on my shoulder and wished I’d left it in the car, but I wanted access to my phone in case Sean called again, and my skirt had no pockets.

  “I’m sure we don’t have long.” Ten, fifteen minutes. Tops. When the news vans arrived, chaos would ensue.

  On the ride over, Aiden called his office to verify the search warrant had been secured and used his dashboard lights and siren on the way here. He’d cut the siren once we hit the suburbs, but he left the lights on. Blue flashes burst across his face—as surely as they did mine—at even intervals.

  “I don’t suppose you still have a key,” I said.

  “I never had a key, Lucy,” he answered, his voice tight as he stepped onto the sidewalk.

  “Sorry. I just…”

  “I know,” he said, “but it wasn’t like that. It was…casual.”

  I didn’t really understand “casual” dating. I was a monogamy type of girl. I didn’t share well with others. Even the thought of Sean with someone else made my skin twitch.

  A nearby sprinkler bathed the street, causing a stream of water to fill the gutters. I stepped over it, and crutched quickly to catch up with Aiden as he strode up Kira’s empty driveway.

  Her yard was neat and tidy. The lawn was well-kept, there were urns overflowing with colorful flowers flanking a brick walkway, and there were no signs at all that Kira hadn’t been home in days. Papers weren’t piled up. Mail wasn’t spilling out of the box at the curb.

  Anxiety and nerves coursed through me, and I closed my eyes, hoping calm would come over me. My scent-reading abilities were new, and I needed all my wits about me to concentrate. I wondered which house belonged to Morgan Creighton—Kira’s friend and neighbor. If they were especially close, she’d know much more about Kira’s daily activities and if she’d experienced other threatening events lately.