The Truth About Comfort Cove

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “I was.” His warm glance thawed her enough that she knew the night ahead was probably not going to be easy. She was starting to feel again.

  “But we can eat out if you want to,” he offered. “If you’d rather stay out.”

  “I’d rather be at your house. I like it there.” There was no way she was going to be able to keep up any kind of appearances at this point. “And while we’re at it, can I just say that I want to sleep in your bed with you, too?”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I envisioned a long night camping out on the floor in the spare room because there was no way I was leaving you alone tonight.”

  Another crack in the ice.

  She knew how ice worked. Once it cracked, the warm air got inside and then the solid chunk started to melt from the inside out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  R amsey’s phone rang just as they were pulling onto his street. “We’ve got Frank Whittier in custody. I’m not telling him about Claire, for now. I can give you until tomorrow to find out how Lucy wants us to handle this. But be warned, the family isn’t happy.”

  He didn’t give a rat’s ass about the Whittiers at the moment. He felt a twinge of guilt when he thought of Emma, but he knew that, in the end, she’d understand.

  And if she didn’t, she didn’t deserve Lucy for a sister. “The big news is Colton,” Bill continued. “Is Lucy there?” “Yes, she’s right here.”

  “You think she’s up to listening or do you want to fill her

  in later?” Looking at the woman sitting beside him in his car, in his driveway, Ramsey didn’t hesitate. “Hold on,” he said into the phone, and then asked Lucy, “Bill has a report on Colton. You want to hear it now?”

  “Yes.” Her answer was unequivocal, just as he’d expected it would be.

  With a push to his phone, he said, “You’re on speakerphone, Bill. Go ahead.”

  “Hi, Lucy,” Bill’s voice softened.

  “Hi.”

  “I wish the news was better… .”

  “It’s okay, Bill, I’m prepared for whatever it is.”

  Ramsey wasn’t sure about that, but he knew that if anyone could be prepared on such short notice for life-altering change, it would be Lucy Hayes. And the doctor had said she was the boss.

  “Colton’s in custody. We picked him up at Sandy Hayes’s residence.”

  Lucy’s sharp intake of breath filled the car, and possibly transmitted to Bill, too.

  “Go on,” she said a few seconds later.

  “You were right. Haley Sanders and Sandy Hayes is one and the same. She fell in love with him during their brief time together at UC. She got pregnant. When she told Jack, he broke up with her. But he sent her money every single week.”

  “Jack Colton is Allie’s father?” Lucy spoke. He shared the thought.

  “Yes. Sandy called him a month or so after the rape. Told him about the attack and that their baby had been abducted—”

  Lucy sat forward. “She has no memory of what happened to Allie?”

  Ramsey wanted to disconnect the call. He watched Lucy, looking for any sign that this was too much for her. She didn’t seem to notice him.

  “She didn’t remember, and it was pretty much touch and go, emotionally. Apparently Colton, on hearing of his daughter’s abduction, grew up quickly. He took complete responsibility for the child’s disappearance, saying that if he’d been there it wouldn’t have happened. And he took complete responsibility for Sandy. Which was why, when he realized we were on to him, he went straight to her. Seeing him, coupled with seeing Wakerby so recently, probably jolted her memory. She was pretty much incoherent but was able to tell the authorities what had happened to Allie.”

  “Wait,” Lucy said again, her tone demanding. “What happened to Allie? How did she die?”

  “She was crying. Wakerby hit her to shut her up.”

  “Mama saw him kill Allie?”

  “She was holding the baby up to her chest at the time. Which is why the injury to the baby’s skull was in the back of her head. It’s also when Sandy’s face got bruised. A psychiatrist from the hospital was called in. He believes the blow to Sandy’s face and head, combined with the trauma of seeing her baby daughter killed, triggered the amnesia.”

  “Oh, my God.” Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. She was rocking back and forth. And Ramsey took the call off speakerphone.

  Ramsey had grilled the steaks. He was eating his slowly. Lucy picked at her potato and looked at the salad. She was going to eat some of both. She just had to get used to the smell first. Let it convince her that she really wanted to eat.

  “I have to know the rest,” she said. He’d suggested one glass of wine might do her good. She’d agreed and sipped at it.

  “Eat something and I’ll tell you.”

  “That’s how you bribe a child.” And she sounded as petulant as one. She felt a bit petulant.

  “You’re drinking wine on an empty stomach.”

  He had a point. So she put food in her mouth. Chewed and swallowed. Enough times so that Ramsey started to talk.

  “Colton was sick with guilt when he found out what had happened. He blamed himself for leaving Sandy alone to fend for the baby herself.”

  “I blame him, too.”

  “After Marie called, telling him about Sandy hanging out in downtown Cincinnati—looking for Allie—he brought her to Comfort Cove to live with him.”

  “That’s the girlfriend Amelia never got to meet because it was during her semester in Boston.”

  “Right.”

  Lucy nodded.

  “She was drinking too much and getting worse by the day and Colton couldn’t afford to put her in rehab or get her any real help. They had no insurance. While she had Allie, Sandy had had assistance, but since the baby was gone…”

  He paused, looked at her. Lucy put another bite of potato in her mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. And thought about a Pavlovian dog who acted automatically for the desired response.

  She couldn’t think about Sandy. Or her poor baby.

  “Jack was afraid to leave her alone, so he started taking her with him on his route. He’d make her hide in the back anytime they got close to a delivery so no one would report him. On that Wednesday—”

  “The one when I was abducted?” There. She’d said the words. They were out there. Between them. “Skirting the issue isn’t going to make it go away,” she said as Ramsey stared at her.

  He nodded. Took a bite of meat. And then said, “That day, Sandy saw you outside by yourself as Jack drove past your house on his way to the neighbors’. She was frantic, saying that you were going to be hurt. That you’d run out into the street, and fall down into the storm sewer.”

  “Jack was giving us a clue when he mentioned that sewer.”

  “Yes, he just didn’t realize it would lead us back to him.”

  “That child. It was me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  He hesitated. She put potato in her mouth. Chewed. Swallowed. It didn’t feel all bad in her stomach.

  “She jumped out of the van while it was still moving. Jack was frantic by then, too, thinking he was going to lose his job and any ability to support them or get her the help she needed. She made a deal with him that if he’d just let her go up to the house and make certain that someone took notice of the child, then she’d get back in the van and not make another sound.”

  Setting his knife and fork down, Ramsey sipped from his glass of wine and then said, “Colton agreed. He couldn’t lose time waiting for her to go to the house, or go with her, so he told her that she could go up to the house, make sure the child was safely inside while he made the delivery, and then she was to meet him at the corner when he came around the block.

  “Instead, when he came back around, there she was standing with the child in her arms.”

  “Me.”

  His gaze was intent. And then, picking up his knife and fork, taking them to the steak in front of hi
m, he said, “Right.”

  “He panicked. Didn’t know what to do. And she gets in the van like nothing is wrong. The change in her was miraculous. She was the girl he’d known in Cincinnati. And Jack didn’t have to worry about finding the money to get her help.”

  “What about me?”

  “He’s been sending monthly money orders to Marie ever since.”

  Which was why she’d never known about any money coming in to Sandy.

  “Marie knew I was abducted.”

  “Yes.”

  “Jack has been supporting us my whole life.”

  “Yes. He’s also spent the past twenty-five years eating himself alive over the Sanderson family losing their child. At first he told himself that Sandy was right. Here they’d had a baby murdered, when Sandy had been a great parent, and there were parents who cared so little about their children that they left them to wander the streets alone.”

  “I was in my front yard. Hardly out wandering.”

  “The best we can figure is that you followed Cal out the door when he left for school. He said that you always made a fuss when he left.”

  Right. Cal Whittier. Emma’s brother. The Sanderson case.

  “What about Cal reportedly seeing the child in his father’s car?” she asked, and realized, when she saw Ramsey’s frown, that she was doing it again. Shutting off.

  “I’m like a faucet, huh? On and off. On and off.”

  He covered her hand with his and the ice started to melt again. “You’re doing great, Luce. And in answer to your question…Sandy saw someone driving down the street right after she grabbed you up. So she dived into Frank’s car with you. She tried to keep your head down, but you popped up and she didn’t want to make you cry, which would have been when Cal saw you in his father’s car. And when you dropped your teddy bear. As near as we can tell, Cal was sneaking into the backyard while Sandy snatched you, because she did it when Jack made the delivery two doors down, and Cal used his truck to hide behind.”

  “I didn’t cry?”

  “Apparently not. Jack said that you clung to Sandy from the very beginning. Like you recognized her and were meant to be hers. At least, that was the way he chose to see it.”

  Nodding, she put down her fork. Picked up her wine. “This means that Sandy is a kidnapper.” Think about wallpaper. Or table linens. Think about paperwork. Target practice.

  “Yes.”

  “She’s in custody?”

  “For now. I suspect that she’s going to make an insanity plea and be admitted to a mental-health facility.”

  Lucy nodded again. Sandy probably should have been put in a facility a long time ago. And she might have been. If Lucy hadn’t been a child at the time.

  “She’s asking to see you, luce.” They were still sitting at the table. There was still wine in her glass. Ramsey had cleared the plates away. And Bill was on the phone.

  “Not now.”

  “Agreed.”

  He finished with Bill and she asked, “If I’d said I’d see her,

  would you have taken me in?” “Yes. But I’d have told you that I didn’t agree with the decision.”

  “Good. Because I’m relying on you to help me see what I might miss.”

  “That’s what we do, right?”

  “On cases, yes.”

  His look was not at all professional. “It’s what we do, Luce. Period.”

  She believed him. And would have told him so, except that this time her phone rang.

  “Sandy’s got my number,” she said, before pulling her phone out of its holster. It was the only holster she was wearing. Sometime between walking into the Comfort Cove Police Department and waking up on the divan, she’d been relieved of her gun.

  She didn’t ask about it. Ramsey didn’t say anything about it, either.

  But she knew protocol. She’d get her gun back when she passed a department physical—which, in her case, meant a therapy session.

  “Bill wouldn’t let her call,” Ramsey said as Lucy looked at her phone.

  “It’s Emma Sanderson.” The case. The job. She looked at Ramsey. The phone rang a second time.

  “Frank’s in custody,” he reminded her. “Bill said the family’s upset.”

  She looked at her phone.

  “She doesn’t know…” Ramsey said. The fourth ring sounded.

  “Shouldn’t Frank be free now? Since they have Colton? Frank Whittier had nothing to do with my disappearance.”

  She’d said my. As the word sounded, her heart missed a beat.

  Frank Whittier was once almost her stepfather. A fifth ring sounded.

  “Bill said he’s giving us until the morning to tell the family. Colton hasn’t been extradited yet. No charges have been formally filed.”

  “Hello?”

  “Lucy? It’s Emma Sanderson.” Something within Lucy lay down to sleep as soon as she heard that voice again. Something she’d been holding up for a very long time.

  “Hi, Emma.” She was speaking with her sister. Her big sister.

  “A Bill something or other is assigned to our case now,” Emma started in.

  “Because Ramsey’s going to your wedding. He’s no longer impartial.”

  “I know. That’s what they said. This new detective arrested Frank, Lucy. Cal’s very upset. My mother is back to being certain that Frank is responsible for Claire’s disappearance. She’s beside herself, Lucy. Chris is with her, but I need to know if you can find out what’s going on. I didn’t know who else to call. I figured, maybe, since you’re going to be in town tomorrow, there’d be something you could do. Detective Miller would know something, wouldn’t he? Even though he’s no longer on the case?”

  “You want me to ask him?”

  “You said he was picking you up at the airport in the morning and…I just don’t know what to do, Lucy.”

  The words, a mirror to her own, broke through the numbness Lucy had been fighting all day. Tears were streaming down her face and she hadn’t even realized it.

  And she knew what she had to do.

  “Can you bring your mother and meet us down at police headquarters?”

  “In the morning, you mean?”

  “No. Tonight. I’m in town, Emma. I flew in this morning.” She hoped to God her sister couldn’t tell she was crying.

  “I’d rather come without Mom. I’m telling you, she’s a mess.”

  “She needs to be there, Emma. I’ll explain when we see you.”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  She had no idea what it was. It just was.

  “It’s messy, Emma, but we finally have some answers.”

  “You found Claire.”

  “Just come to the station.”

  “Tell me if she’s alive, Lucy. Please. Don’t do this to me.”

  Lucy was in way over her head. But she heard the plea coming from her sister’s heart. She remembered how it felt, before they’d told her about Allie.

  Poor baby Allie. Who wasn’t her big sister, after all.

  “Lucy?”

  She looked at Ramsey. He’d been listening to the conversation and, shrugging, mouthed, “It’s up to you.”

  “She’s alive.”

  “Oh, my God. Oh, my God!” The first was a cry of relief. The second a scream. “And she’s here? In Comfort Cove? Are you serious? Oh, my God!”

  The woman who’d always been so calm, so controlled and willing to settle for almost nothing was suddenly screaming in Lucy’s ear.

  “Calm down, Emma,” Lucy said in as much of a professional voice as she could muster, but she wasn’t going to last much longer. She couldn’t hold back the sobs.

  Ramsey slid the phone from her shaking fingers. She heard him say, “Emma? Ramsey Miller, here. Your sister is here in town, but she just found out today that she isn’t who she thought she was. She’s got another life, another family that she’s loved as her own for the past twenty-five years… .”

  “She doesn’t want to see us.” The elat
ion was still in Emma’s tone, clear over the speakerphone. “It’s okay, Detective. I can handle that. I know it’ll take time. Mom and I have been working with missing-children cases my whole life. I’m just so glad to know that she’s alive. That she’s okay.” Emma was sobbing now. “Just so glad.”

  Lucy heard Ramsey finalize plans to meet Emma and Rose at the police station. He suggested that Cal Whittier might come along, as well, but emphasized that the initial meeting with detectives would be with only Rose and Emma.

  She heard him ring off.

  She was in the bathroom, throwing up potatoes.

  “You don’t have to do this.” Lucy stood with Ramsey in the squad room, waiting for Emma and Rose Sanderson to arrive. The guard downstairs at the door had already called up to say they were on their way.

  “Yes, I have to do it, Ramsey. We both know I do.” “Not tonight, you don’t.”

  She’d brushed her teeth. Run a comb through her hair.

  Washed her face and put on fresh makeup. She was still wearing the suit she’d put on at home in Aurora that morning. What would they think of her?

  How much did their opinion matter to her?

  “Something I learned a long time ago,” she said, listening for the elevator bell to chime out in the hall. “When you have something tough to face, it’s best to just get it over with, whether it be a shot, a paper to write or bad news to tell.”

  “You’ve faced more than your share today.”

  “And getting this done tonight is going to make it easier to get up tomorrow.” At least that was her theory. She hoped she was right.

  Ramsey nodded and she knew that as long as he was standing there with her, she’d be okay. If she collapsed, he’d catch her.

  She wanted to hold his hand. But needed to think that she was there as a professional.

  “In the next few minutes, I’m going to be meeting my mother,” she said aloud.

  Bill and Ramsey exchanged glances. “I’m just making sure we all understand what’s going on here,” she said.

  The elevator binged. Both men turned to look at her. “You’re sure?” Bill asked.

  She’d have said yes, but couldn’t get by the lump in her throat. So she nodded.