by Debra Webb
Rayburn shrugged. “She’s blind to what goes on around her.”
Jonathan glanced at her, certain this man was incorrect. “I’m reasonably sure she’s not as blind as one might think.” Just caring. Forgiving. Loving. Passionate. More of those haunting memories whispered through his thoughts, making him weak. He couldn’t be weak right now. His jaw clenched. There was never a good time to be weak.
“Perhaps so,” Rayburn admitted. “But she’s standing by while the rest of her family continues to commit egregious atrocities.”
Jonathan’s gaze narrowed. What was this guy up to? “Such as?”
“Her uncle is carrying on with the chief’s wife while supposedly distraught over William’s child.”
“Chief Talbot’s wife?” Interesting but not necessarily relevant.
Rayburn nodded. “That tawdry affair has been going on for several years now.” His head moved from up and down to side to side in a maneuver that made Jonathan think of a bobblehead doll. “The chief’s as blind as Melissa.”
“Does this have anything to do with Polly’s disappearance?” Didn’t sound that way to Jonathan, but information, however seemingly irrelevant, couldn’t be cast aside out of turn.
Rayburn twisted up his courage, or appeared to. “I’m just warning you that you should look into this illicit affair. There’s more going on, I believe, than meets the eye.”
Jonathan considered the warning. “How can you be certain the chief isn’t aware of his wife’s extracurricular activities?”
Rayburn covered a grin with one hand. “You really aren’t from around here. The chief is completely oblivious to his wife’s immorality, just as he is blind to that sorry nephew of his.”
Jonathan inclined his head. “Nephew?”
“Johnny Ray Bruce,” Rayburn explained. “Presley’s lover.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Do you have proof that Presley is still involved with Johnny Ray?” That the man was the chief’s nephew might explain why he wasn’t under closer scrutiny as a part of the investigation—or at least didn’t appear to be. Jonathan had obtained copies of the police reports as well as the witness reports before he’d flown down. Johnny Ray Bruce hadn’t been mentioned in any capacity.
“They’ve never stopped being involved,” Rayburn informed him with haughty condescension. “She only married poor Will because his family has a little something and he’s likely to make something of himself. Johnny Ray is as lazy as a summer day is long. He’s never going to be anything but a worthless bloodsucker.”
“Have you spoken to any of the authorities investigating this case? There are others you could tell besides the chief.”
Rayburn harrumphed. “The chief is too well known in this area. No one’s going to stand up to him, much less tell him his wife is having an affair with the man who used to be his best friend.”
Another interesting detail. “Harry Shepherd was once the chief’s best friend?”
“That’s right.” Rayburn preened, attempting to appear nonchalant as he boasted his great insights. “Played high school football together right here in Bay Minette. Went off to college together. Where you saw one, you saw the other.”
“What went wrong?” Again, Jonathan didn’t actually see the relevance, but the more information he commanded, the better his ability to analyze.
“Harry’s brother, William senior, wanted to serve his country. Harry objected. The chief argued that William senior had a right to follow his own calling. The two have scarcely spoken since.”
Melissa had told Jonathan that her father was killed in a military conflict and that her uncle had stepped in to fill his shoes. If this guy’s conclusions were correct, Shepherd held the chief’s encouragement of his brother against him. Not exactly rational but a reasonable reaction, Jonathan supposed.
“I have to go.” Rayburn backed deeper into the tree line. “The police aren’t going to look into this,” he warned. “Someone needs to.”
“What about Stevie Price?” Jonathan asked before Rayburn could creep away. “The chief said he’d taken off to Nashville. Any theories on that one?” Jonathan suspected that Price’s disappearance the same night as Polly’s was no coincidence.
“Stevie is a mentally handicapped grown man,” Rayburn said with glaring disdain. “Folks around here allow him to play with their children as if he’s one of them. But he’s not.” Rayburn pressed Jonathan with an accusation in his gaze. “I say good riddance.”
“Do you have proof that Price isn’t as harmless as most seem to think?” An uneasiness settled in Jonathan’s gut. This guy Price was an unknown variable.
Rayburn snorted. “Ask Mrs. Syler at the day care center. She’ll tell you she almost had to get a restraining order to keep him off the playground. He used to go there and play with the kids sometimes.” He shook his head. “But not anymore.”
The chief hadn’t mentioned that in his reports, and Melissa had insisted the incident was a mistake. That Stevie’s work as a volunteer was sanctioned by the day care owner. They were going to have to dig a little deeper. Melissa seemed protective of Stevie; then again, she tried to protect all those she cared about. But finding the child trumped all else.
“I have to go now.”
Jonathan glanced toward Melissa and Shepherd. As Shepherd climbed into his truck and started the engine, Melissa watched, her arms folded over her chest.
Before Jonathan could ask any more questions, Rayburn disappeared into the woods.
Strange character. Jonathan walked back to where Melissa waited, watching her brother drive away.
“You okay?” Dumb question under the circumstances.
She quickly wiped her eyes. “I guess so. He wants me to back off where Presley is concerned and—” she released a heavy breath “—I can’t. She’s afraid of something. We have to know what that is.”
Understandable. Presley was the last person to see Polly before she disappeared and was supposedly in the house when she went missing. That made her the primary person of interest if not the prime suspect.
“Has Chief Talbot voiced any concerns about Presley?”
Melissa shrugged. “Not really. Until now he’s been solely focused on Stevie.”
That was the problem when bad things happened in small towns. Everyone knew everyone else. Made objectivity next to impossible.
“What about your uncle?” Jonathan asked as he ushered her toward the car. “Is there anything going on with him that we haven’t talked about?” He figured he might as well explore Rayburn’s allegations.
Melissa stopped and turned back to him, confusion cluttering her face. “What do you mean?”
This line of questioning would be more than a little sensitive. “Your uncle has never married. Is there a particular reason?” That was about the only way Jonathan could think to ask about his social life without asking outright about the rumor he’d just heard.
“I don’t know. He’s taken care of William and me since we were kids back in elementary school. I guess he never had time to focus on his own life.” Her confusion turned to suspicion. “Why would you ask that?”
He could dance around the question or he could just ask. “Are you aware that there is a rumor that he’s carried on a long-term affair with the chief’s wife?”
The suspicion morphed into dismay. “Who would say such a hurtful thing?”
“Scott Rayburn.” Jonathan wasn’t going to hide anything from Melissa. He’d done enough of that in the past. Finding her niece was too important to play games on any level.
“Scott?” Renewed confusion chased away the rest of the emotions playing out in her eyes. “Why on earth would he say something like that? We went to school together. He’s come to picnics and family get-togethers at our house for as long as I can remember. He helped Will through physics in high school.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cell phone. “I want him to say that to me.”
“Wait.” Jonathan put his hand over hers. The con
tact made his breath catch. She stared up at him as if she’d experienced the same jolt. When he’d recovered, he offered, “It’s important that we consider all the possibilities, even the ones that turn out to be rumors. Tell me about Rayburn.”
She relaxed a fraction. “He’s a little older than me and kind of different from most guys around here.”
“Define different,” Jonathan suggested.
She shrugged. “This is Alabama. Football is a religion and hunting is a male rite of passage. Scott preferred reading and socializing. He was always more like one of the girls. He went to law school and has his own boutique law firm downtown. Never married. He loves his work too much.”
“Do you know of any reason why he would dislike your uncle? Does he have a grudge against your family? Any reason at all that he would spread these kinds of rumors?”
Melissa shook her head. “That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. My mother always said that actions speak louder than words. Scott has always acted as if he loves us.” She rubbed her eyes. “Folks used to insist he had his eye on me, but I never noticed.”
When he didn’t respond, Melissa glanced around and said, “I guess we should get going.”
An intense sensation jabbed Jonathan. He stood very still, denied the feeling, as she walked toward her car.
Jealousy.
He gave himself a swift mental kick. He had no right to be jealous where Melissa was concerned.
A few hours in Melissa’s presence and already he was losing his hold on control.
The cell in Jonathan’s pocket vibrated. He checked the screen and saw it was an Out of Area number. The boss.
“Foley,” he announced in greeting.
“Thought I’d let you know that Victor Lennox has agreed to flip on his connections.”
Not really news to Jonathan. He’d expected as much. “I suppose that’s a good thing.” To Jonathan it meant that the man would get off with a slap on the wrists for his crimes.
“Don’t worry,” his employer said knowingly, “he’s not going to get off as easy as you think. Lennox isn’t the sort they let walk away.”
Jonathan sure hoped not.
“How are things in Alabama?”
The question surprised Jonathan. His employer rarely delved into personal territory on any level. “The child is still missing and the investigation is moving at about the speed of molasses.”
“Let me know if you need anything in the way of backup. I stand behind my people on and off the job. You don’t need to tread water there or anywhere else.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”
The connection severed.
Jonathan slid the phone back into his pocket. Strange. He’d never worked for an employer whose name he didn’t know much less whose face he’d never seen.
Nonetheless, he trusted his instincts and not a single warning had gone off where the man was concerned. He operated this new Equalizers agency with utter discretion and immense compassion.
A man like that couldn’t be all bad.
Jonathan joined Melissa in the car. She’d settled into the passenger seat. Driving wouldn’t be in her best interest or anyone else’s just now.
For a moment they sat in silence. He didn’t want to prod her for answers. She was tired and worried. Jonathan could understand each of those reactions.
“I’m scared, Jonathan.”
He turned to her, his chest tight at the sound of her voice. “I know.”
“If someone has hurt that baby...” She closed her eyes and held back the emotions making her lips tremble.
He wanted to tell her not to worry, but the truth was, at this point, the possibility that Polly was a victim of some unspeakable violence was extremely high.
“We’ll find her,” he promised. “And then we’ll deal with whatever we have to deal with.”
A tear slid down Melissa’s cheek. “I’ve spent my entire adult life taking care of people as a nurse. Helping those who can’t care for themselves.” She moved her head side to side. “But I swear, if someone hurt that child, I want to hurt them.” She compressed her lips and visibly fought for composure. “If she’s...” she swallowed with difficulty “...dead...I want whoever is responsible to...” she drew in a jerky breath “...I want them to pay.”
Chapter Seven
Chicago, 4:00 p.m.
He sat at a table inside Maggie’s Coffee House. The one closest to the window that provided the most direct view of the building across the street.
The Colby Agency.
Maggie James swiped at the counter, her attention not on business as it should be. Her entire being was focused on him.
Every day he came into her shop and sat from three until six or seven, depending upon when the staff at the Colby Agency left for the day. He stayed, staring like that, until the lights on the fourth floor across the street went out.
Her chest ached as she drew in a ragged breath. She wanted to order him out of her life. For months now she had known this thing between them would come to no good, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. He was an addiction to her. She couldn’t sleep if he didn’t come by the shop every day. Couldn’t breathe if he didn’t make love to her almost as often.
Night after night he came to her bed and made love to her as no other man ever had. Then he disappeared into the night, like the fog after a long, hard rain. He’d told her his name was Slade Keaton. That he was thirty. A full two years younger than her. She had no idea where he’d come from or what he’d done before. He was here now, and that was what mattered. That was his stock answer.
A big mistake, Maggie.
She forced her attention back to cleaning up after the last of the lunch stragglers. She had worked hard to make something of herself, to make this coffee shop the place to stop for a relaxing break on the Magnificent Mile. Why screw it up now by getting involved with trouble?
She had been asking herself that question for well over six months now. Somehow she never seemed able to dredge up the proper answer. The answer that would put her back on track and out of this crazy spin cycle.
Broad, square hands flattened on the counter she’d just scrubbed. Maggie’s breath caught as her gaze lifted and collided with steel-gray eyes. She laughed tightly. “You startled me.”
That smile that swept away every fiber of her resistance spread across his handsome face. “I’ll be back around seven-thirty.”
She covertly glanced at the fourth floor of the building across the street. He was leaving before the lights went out? “Seven-thirty?” she asked. It wasn’t exactly a clever response, but it was all she had.
“We’re going to dinner.”
She perked up. “Dinner?” Jeez, she sounded like a canary, repeating everything he said. He so rarely did anything spontaneous, the announcement had anticipation zinging through her.
“That’s right.” He winked. “Wear that little green dress I like so much.”
Her head moved up and down and her lips smiled. She recognized both these things but her heart wouldn’t slow down enough for her to respond any other way.
He squeezed her hand.
Then he was gone.
She watched him stride down the sidewalk until he was out of view, then her gaze drifted to the fourth floor across the way.
As if he possessed some sixth sense or ESP or whatever, the lights went out.
The folks at the Colby Agency were going home.
8:00 p.m.
VICTORIA COLBY-CAMP placed the linen napkin in her lap as her husband took his seat across from her. He looked more handsome than ever in his navy suit. She loved that color on him.
Incredibly, Lucas Camp had, indeed, retired from his government consulting work. He spent several days per week working alongside her at the Colby Agency. Victoria could not be happier. Having both her husband and her son at the agency with her was a dream come true. Contentment settled deep inside her.
She had waited a long, long time for
this level of happiness.
“Wine?” Lucas asked as the waiter approached their table.
“Absolutely.”
Lucas ordered the finest house wine. She loved that he knew her so very well. This was her favorite restaurant, and he’d ordered her favorite wine.
When the waiter had moved on, Lucas settled his gaze on her. “Victoria, I have a proposition for you.”
She lifted her eyebrows in question. “Sounds intriguing.”
“We haven’t taken a vacation since our honeymoon.” He deftly draped a napkin in his lap. “I’m thinking white sands and sparkling blue waters.”
“Ah, Grand Cayman.” She’d mentioned never having been there. Once again, her dear husband wanted to please her. But she also knew a place he treasured very much. “How about Puerto Vallarta?”
His knowing gaze narrowed. “Shall we toss a coin?”
“We took a cruise last time,” she reminded him.
He nodded. “We’ll look into reservations for Mexico then.”
The waiter arrived and poured their wine. Lucas thanked him. “Speaking of reservations,” he said when they were alone again—if one could be alone in a popular restaurant during the dinner hour. “I presume you have no reservations regarding Jim’s ability to handle the agency if we’re gone a week or two.”
“I do not.” Her son had done a spectacular job. The merger between his staff of former Equalizers and her investigators at the agency was now seamless. The final result was a phenomenal team.
“Jim doesn’t appear to miss running his own shop,” Lucas commented.
“I agree.” Jim had sold the brownstone as well as the Equalizers business several months ago. “He’s home now, in every respect.” Lucas knew how much that meant to her. “I am so grateful.”
Lucas reached across the table and patted her hand. “As am I.” He inclined his head and looked past Victoria. “Isn’t that Maggie?”
Victoria turned to see who’d entered the dining room. The hostess led a handsome couple through the maze of elegantly dressed tables. “Yes, it is Maggie.” Maggie James owned and operated the coffee house across the street from the agency. She noticed Victoria and smiled, then waved.
