by Debra Webb
"What happened?" His fingers clenched to avoid reaching out to her. Damn, she looked so helpless.
"The children asked for help, Paul."
He'd imagined all sorts of horrors she might have witnessed or suffered today, but he hadn't anticipated that announcement. He took her by the arm. "Let's take a walk."
At this point he wasn't sure of anything. This situation was beginning to feel a lot bigger than some whack job snatching children or some facility trying to get away with unapproved testing. If his worries held any merit, Jen's temporary residence could be bugged. There was something big about to go down here, and Jen had been drawn into it for a reason.
Jen explained how right after lunch she'd been allowed into the classroom and Diamond, the little dark-haired girl she believed might be Sophie, had sent her a message in a remarkably covert manner.
"Each of the children did the same thing as I moved around the table to admire and praise their work."
"You're thinking the others followed her lead." Jen nodded adamantly. "Dr. Hancock mentioned that the other students look to her for guidance. I'm sure he had no idea that a rebellion was brewing. Something is wrong in that place, Paul."
The breeze whipped up, sending a discarded soda can rolling down the street. At the far end of the block a couple of teenagers played basketball. Otherwise, the neighborhood was quiet.
"Any new observations about the little girl?" He wanted to ask if she'd had the opportunity to check for the scar.
"I didn't really get a lot of time with the children. Dr. Hancock's head of research, Mrs. Hancock, had other plans for me."
"His wife?" That would make sense considering what Paul had learned today.
"Maybe. She wasn't exactly social. She looked so nice but she was actually really direct, almost pushy. I got the impression the children didn't like her and that the feeling was mutual."
"I have some news from the Colby Agency." He cupped her elbow and ushered her into a right turn toward the next block.
"Is this why we're out enjoying the spring weather?"
In that moment, Paul realized his desire to protect and shelter Jenna had kept him from seeing how strong she was. She wasn't just beautiful and kind and generous—a great wife and tireless mother. She was also smart and determined. "Dr. Hancock and his wife are under investigation. They have been for some time." He explained what Jim Colby had learned from his unnamed sources. "The latest update indicated something big will be going down at the institute any day now." This was where things were going to get sticky. "Jim and I both feel it would be a mistake for you to return to the institute tomorrow." He'd driven himself crazy with worry all day, walking the floors of her duplex, waiting for her return. He'd driven past the institute half a dozen times.
Jen stalled and turned to face him. "Are you kidding? You really expect me to back off now? I'm in the door. The children are responding to me. For some reason, maybe sheer desperation, they trust me. I have to go back. I can't let them down. If I don't show up, they may feel I've abandoned them."
"I can't protect you if you're inside that secure perimeter and I'm outside." Another day like this one and he'd be climbing the walls. "I can't let you take that risk."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he knew he'd screwed up. Her expression shifted from one of worry to one of frustration and no little bit of anger.
"This isn't about you, Paul. This is about a little girl who might be our missing daughter." She folded her arms over her chest. "It's about six other children who are in need of help for some reason I don't understand yet."
His misstep would require some serious damage control. "The feds are moving in, Jen, and the children will be taken care of. The Hancocks will likely be concerned only with saving themselves. I wouldn't be surprised if they're gone tomorrow. And we'll be here to get to the bottom of Diamond's real identity. We'll help make sure all the children find their way home. But we need to back off and give the feds the space to do their job."
Jen shoved her hair back from her face, braced her hands on her slim hips and squared her shoulders. "I will be at the institute at nine tomorrow morning as scheduled. If you have a problem with that, that's too bad. I'm through talking about this, Paul."
Before he could summon a way to make her see that he was on her side, she stepped around him and headed back to the duplex. The pound of the basketball against asphalt a few yards away and the competitive exchange between the two teens filtered back into his senses. Just went to show how little help his being here was to Jen. A whole team of thugs could have rushed them and he would have been too caught up in the conversation to notice before it was too late.
Somehow he had to find a way into the institute tomorrow, give her some backup. He knew better than to think for one second he could keep Jen away. Outside tying her up or locking her in the duplex, she was going. And so was he.
There were a couple of folks, besides the cops, who couldn't be turned away—not even from a prestigious institute. Fire and health inspectors.
All he needed was the proper ID.
Piece of cake.
May 4, 10:15 p.m.
Jenna sat on the closed toilet seat and stared at the photos: three-year-old Sophie before she was taken; and Diamond, the little girl at the clinic. Sophie's cheeks were full and round and rosy with baby happiness. Diamond's were less full, more sculpted, and the expression she wore lacked the sparkle that Sophie had shown every day of her sweet life. But the jawline and the nose were so similar. The eyes.. .and her coloring in general.
What was wrong with her? A mother should recognize her own child! This was unconscionable. What kind of mother was she?
Jenna stood, swiped at the tears with the backs of her hands. She had let her baby down seven years ago, and now she couldn't recognize her own daughter from someone else's, even though she and Diamond had been only inches apart today! Jenna stared at her reflection. The dark circles beneath her eyes.. .the weariness in her gaze. She felt like a shell. A nothing.
Because this was her fault. She should have protected her baby and none of this would ever have happened.
A rap on the door made her jump. How long had she been in here? Too long, obviously. "Jen, you okay?"
No, she wasn't okay. If she lived a thousand years she would never be okay. Her little girl was lost.
"I'll be out in a minute." Her voice sounded rusty and thick, but she didn't care. She wished she could close her eyes and make the time pass more quickly. She wanted to get back to the institute and to the children.. .to the little girl.
She couldn't hide in here all night. Maybe Paul had heard more news from his colleagues at the Colby Agency. She had to give him credit; the P.I. agency where he worked really appeared to be top-notch. She was happy for him. He deserved to have his life going in a better direction.
Readying herself for his scrutiny, she opened the door and exited the tiny bathroom. He waited not five feet away, and she forced a smile into place. "It's all yours."
When she moved across the room, he followed. She tucked the photos into the drawer of the bedside table. It was late. She should get ready for bed. Sleep probably wouldn't grace her with its presence, but at least she wouldn't be expected to carry on a conversation if she appeared to be sleeping.
She faced the man watching her so closely. "I think I'll just go to bed."
"You hardly ate anything." He gestured to the table where the leftovers from the meal he'd had delivered remained.
"I'm good." Food held no appeal to her anymore. She only ate what little she did because it was necessary for survival, and though sometimes she didn't care if she lived or not, now wasn't one of those times. She had hope.
"Can we talk for a minute?"
"Do you have news?" She hadn't heard him on the phone. But maybe he'd gone outside while she was in the bathroom.
"Not yet. I thought maybe we could talk about us."
This could be trouble. Talking about us usually m
eant talking about how she had gone over the edge. "All right, but let's keep it brief. I'm tired."
She opted to take a seat on the sofa rather than the bed. When she had settled, he sat down beside her. Jenna took a breath and waited for him to say whatever was on his mind.
"I have an offer for you."
Now there was an opening line she hadn't expected. "Okay." She clasped her hands in her lap. "I'll bite. What kind of offer?"
"I was wrong to leave you alone last year. You still needed me and I bailed." He exhaled a big breath and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He faced her then and she saw the misery in his eyes, something he'd never let her see before. "I should have stayed."
She wanted to be glad to hear those words, but she couldn't rightly say what she felt. Vindicated? Relieved? Angry? Maybe a little of all three. "What do you want me to say to that, Paul? That yes, you were wrong? That you should be sorry?" She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "You did what you thought you had to do, and so did I. I think
we're so far beyond sorrys and should haves and all that other redundant stuff. I want to focus on the now. The before hurts too much. And God only knows what the after will be like."
"Fair enough." He took her hand in his.
Startled at the move, her breath caught as the heat of his touch rushed through her hollow soul.
"You have my word that I will do whatever's necessary to learn the true identity of this little girl. And I will ensure that all the children at the institute are safe."
The shaking started deep inside her. "I appreciate the help."
"We will solve this puzzle together. And when we're done, we'll move forward together to try and find our daughter."
"But the divorce." Why would he suggest they do anything together? Didn't he want to move on with his life?
"Is not relevant to solving the mystery of our daughter's disappearance. The Colby Agency will help us. They've agreed to do whatever it takes." He shook his head again. "I should have asked them for help a year ago, but I was certain, using their resources, I could do it on my own. I believed that since I was the one who screwed up, I had to be the one to fix it. All this time, deep down I've been trying to find her, even as I chastised you for doing the same. I'm nothing but a hypocrite."
For the first time in seven years Jenna understood something about Paul's feelings. He really believed this was his fault.. .his and his alone. "You weren't the only one who was wrong." She squeezed the big hand holding on to hers. "It's time we stop laying blame and find our daughter. She's out there, Paul. I really believe I've found her this time."
"And if you're wrong?"
Misery swept through her like an icy wind. "I guess I'll have to deal with it and move on to the next lead."
"We'll do it together."
His arms went around her and they held each other. It felt good. It felt right.
And, for now, it was enough. But with every part of her that made her a woman, Jenna wanted more.
Soon, she promised herself. Soon.
Chapter Seven
May 5, 8:50 a.m.
Paul's words kept echoing in her head as she drove to the institute that morning. Be careful, Jen. I don't want to lose you again.
Her heart fluttered at the memory. After the way he'd held her last night and then his desperate words this morning, Jenna understood that he hadn't wanted to sign the divorce papers. He'd really thought it was what she wanted.
What she'd actually craved was his attention. She realized now that she had needed him to see how badly she wanted his help. Tragedy had torn them apart and she hadn't figured out how to put their relationship back together. Filing for divorce had been a cry for help he hadn't recognized. And neither had she, not the way she understood now.
As determined as she had been to come to Alabama and follow this lead, a part of her had known that going it alone was less than brilliant. But she'd felt it was the only way.
A smile trembled across her lips. He'd come without her asking. Like her own personal knight in shining armor.
How had her mother found out where she was? That part still bothered her. She hadn't told Deidra. Not unless she'd really lost her mind as well as her memory and simply didn't remember telling her.
Jenna had a few more minutes before she arrived at the institute's gate. She decided to call her mother; solving at least one mystery surrounding the past couple of days would be something, anyway.
Deidra answered on the third ring. Never the first or the second. Jenna was pretty sure she identified the caller before taking the call, which took a couple of rings.
"Jenna, where are you? Did Paul find you?"
In an attempt to be a good daughter for a change, Jenna filled her mother in on things here and Paul's arrival—at least the parts she wanted her mother to know. Since it was early, her mother's head would be as clear as anyone's—anyone who'd downed a bottle of wine most nights for years on end. "You think this child really is our Sophie?"
Her mother's voice trembled and the sound put another crack in Jenna's already battered heart. "I think it's a strong possibility. Why else would Mr. Waters have come to me? There's just no other logical explanation."
Paul had other ideas. Like maybe the whole business related to Jenna and not to Sophie. He feared that somehow Jenna was going to be some sort of scapegoat, but that scenario didn't add up to her. Reginald Waters had been too convincing. The Colby Agency had discovered additional information about the institute that indicated its activities were not on the up and up. The house of cards was about to come tumbling down. That only made Jenna even more convinced she was on to something here.
"You could be right," Deidra agreed. "I was really thankful Mr. Waters told me about what you were doing so I could let Paul know. This was much too dangerous for you to do alone."
Wait. "Did you say Mr. Waters told you I was here?"
"He sure did. He called me and practically insisted I get you some help down there. He said you might be getting in some serious trouble and you needed Paul's assistance."
"Waters told you to send Paul?" That made absolutely no sense. If he thought Jenna needed backup, why not tell her up front? He hadn't mentioned anything like that.
"He strongly suggested I contact Paul. Yes. That was the phrase he used. I won't ever forget. He scared me half to death."
Jenna slowed for the turn to the institute's gate. "Mom, I have to go. I'll call you as soon as we know something." It felt surreal having this conversation with her mother after all this time. Their relationship had been strained for so long that even the most ordinary conversation typically turned into a screaming match.
"I love you, Jenna. You and Paul bring our girl back home, please."
"Love you, too, Mom. We'll do our best."
Jenna ended the call, her heart squeezing, her eyes burning. She reached for calm as she slowed to a stop at the guard shack. She blinked, wiped at her eyes to ensure they were clear. The crossing bar that blocked unauthorized traffic from entering the premises was in the raised position. Strange.
She peered at the guard shack but no one moved inside as far as she could see. No one stepped out to check her ID.
"Hello!" She waited for a moment and still no one appeared.
Mumbling to herself, she put the vehicle in Park and got out. "Hello?" The eight-byeight room that made up the guard shack was deserted.
Jenna climbed back into her SUV and drove to the personnel parking area behind the building. The lot was empty.
Her heart lunged into her throat. They couldn't be gone. Not this fast.. .not everyone. "No!"
She didn't bother closing the car door. She may or may not have shut off the engine. Getting inside the institute was the only goal on her mind.
The personnel entrance was locked. Jenna pressed her face to the glass and looked for anyone who might be inside. She saw no one. Okay, think, Jenna! There was always a receptionist in the main lobby who checked everyone in. Jenna ran around to the front
of the building where towering glass doors allowed her a full view of an empty lobby and a vacant receptionist's desk. The doors were locked.
That was when the panic set in. She banged on the doors and screamed at the top of her lungs for anyone who might be inside. Nothing. No sound, other than the echo of her rants. Nothing moved. Even the air around her felt still and forbidding.
Jenna beat on the door a few more times before realizing the effort was futile. They were gone. Waters had disappeared. Now the Hancocks and the children. Her heart fractured.
What did she do now?
Call Paul. Where was her cell? She felt her trouser pockets. She must have left it in the car.
She ran for the vehicle.
As she suspected, she had left the engine running. She grabbed her phone and hit the necessary buttons to make the call. He answered on the first ring.
"You have to come over here." Her voice shook hard.
"What's happened, Jen?"
She heard the fear in his voice, as well. "They're gone. Everyone. The employees.. .everyone."
"I'm on my way."
Jenna meant to say goodbye or something thoughtful, like Be careful or Drive safely, but her attention snagged on a second-floor window on the rear of the building, above the personnel parking lot. Something was written on the glass, but the letters were faint and difficult to make out, as if someone had written them with crayons, tracing over and over the large letters in hopes of ensuring they showed up. If not for the closed drapes providing a contrasting background, she wouldn't have seen the message at all.
HELP US
That window looked out from one of the classrooms. Had no one been watching the children before they were taken away?
What if the children were still inside? Surely they wouldn't have been left alone.
Fear tightened like a noose around her neck. Unless they were no longer of any use to those who ran.. .and maybe they were a liability.
She was going inside.
Before her mind could ask how, an image formed there.
She could do it.
Jenna drove around to the front of the building, snapped her lap belt into place while tucking the shoulder restraint behind her. Then she set her foot against the accelerator. Just before impact, she ducked down in the seat.
