by Peggy Webb
Toni glanced down at the paper. “Where did you get it?”
“In my room.”
“Someone came into your room?” Lily nodded, and the woman turned as white as the note paper. “Did you see who it was?”
“No. I was asleep.”
Toni read the note, and then she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Toni? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“The note. It’s a line from ‘Passer Mortuus Est’ by the poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay.”
“But what does it mean?”
“I don’t know.” Toni grabbed her key and stood up so fast her chair almost toppled. “I have to go.”
“Wait. Was it that crazy old woman from the garden? Does she prowl the house, too?”
Stephen’s mother never checked her speed, just left the kitchen with her head ducked as if she expected something monstrous to jump out of the shadows at any minute.
Though it was barely daylight, Lily pulled her iPhone out of her pocket and sent a text.
Jack, when you get this, please text back. I need to talk to you.
She was headed up the stairs to shower and dress when Jack’s text came in.
Great minds. I was just going to text you. I have news about Cee Cee’s birthmother. How does 7:00, your shop, sound? I’ll bring doughnuts.
It would be almost like old times. Until she’d read his text, she didn’t know how desperately she needed that. Hoping Jack’s news would be good, she sent her reply.
I’ll put on the coffee. See you soon.
She’d have plenty of time to drop Annabelle off at the greenhouses. Too much was happening too fast. Lily didn’t want her daughter walking through the grove by herself, and she didn’t want her to be alone.
Lily was bent over her desk, framed by the Christmas wreath that hung in the window of Lily’s Designs. Jack quickened his steps. He was swept back in time to the days when she’d greet him with a smile and a hug as spontaneous as his own heartbeat.
When he walked inside, the shop bell over the door tinkled. “Hey, you!”
“Hey, yourself.” She hurried toward him, and for a moment he thought she was going to walk right into his arms. Then her steps slowed and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, self-conscious. “I was looking at pictures of the engagement party. They were on the hall table when I left the house. Want to see?”
It was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he knew what Lily was doing. When she was worried about something really important, she didn’t share it until she’d had plenty of time think about it, first. This wasn’t about photos. She was processing something big.
“Sure.” He joined her at the desk where she’d spread them out. But it wasn’t photographs of her smiling at her fiancé that caught his eye. It was the note that lay beside them.
Darling, forgive me for being distant last night.
Why on earth would any man who loved Lily ever be distant with her? If she were his, they’d disagree as fiercely as they loved. But they’d never be distant. That would be like putting yourself on the other side of the ocean from her, something Jack would find unbearable.
I have a lot to do before our wedding. The engagement pictures were delivered to my office yesterday. Enjoy!
Stephen had punished her by withholding something he knew she’d cherish. Jack wanted to hit something. Preferably that picture of her fiancé as he stood at the top of the stairs with his arm around Lily. Stephen didn’t look besotted, as a man in love should. He looked smug. And what about the way he was looking at Lily in the conservatory, as if she were a possession?
The note finished with, I’m off to spend a wonderful day with our daughter.
That last sentence sounded as insincere as a politician’s promises, especially considering what Annie had said about Stephen at the restaurant. If he really thought of her as his daughter, she’d have known it. Kids know when you love them. They also know when you’re only pretending. Annie more than most. He’d watched her grow up. He’s seen the frank way she handled relationships.
Jack handed Lily the note. “I hope Annie has a good time with Stephen.”
She blushed. “I guess I left the note there for you to see.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore. The more I think about it, the more confused I become.”
She jumped up, rummaged in a file cabinet and came back with a folder whose label pierced Jack through the heart. BEDROOM, it read. STEPHEN AND LILY. With her back turned, she stuffed the folder and the engagement pictures into a tote bag.
“Is the coffee ready?” She nodded, still with her back turned, but at least the tell-tale folder was now out of sight. “Good. Let’s regroup.” He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her into the break room. It was the only touch he dared, and even that small contact was electric.
As he pulled out a chair for her at the 1950s style table with the red and white Formica top, he felt as if he were coming home. She had a Christmas cactus blooming on the windowsill, cinnamon-scented candles burning, and coffee with chicory in the pot. The walls were covered with drawings Annie had done, starting in kindergarten when she’d brought home a picture with three stick people labeled Me, Mum & Unca Jak.
He found Christmas paper plates and napkins in the cabinet and put them on the table. “This is such a rare treat it calls for the fine china.” He reached for the cups and placed them on the counter.
“I really didn’t care about looking at the photos,” she confessed. “I think I was just trying to brace myself for whatever you’ve found out about Cee Cee.”
The sorrow etched in her face had Jack replacing the coffee carafe as carefully as if it were a newborn. “Lily, I really wish I had better news…”
“It’s not good? I can’t bear…” Her voice broke, and she looked up at him, stricken. Then suddenly tears were rolling down her cheeks.
“Hey.” He squatted beside her chair and pulled her close. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry about showing your emotions with me, Lily.” She crumpled against his shoulder. “Just let it all out. Take your time.” He rubbed her back until she began to relax. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m listening.”
He felt her nod, and the shuddering breaths she took as she pulled herself together. When she drew back, he wanted to reach for her again, to hold her until the world somehow righted itself, until time rolled backward and he was on his way to her apartment taking Hershey bars with almonds to Lily and Ben and Jerry’s ice cream to Annie.
Instead he released her and poured two cups of coffee, both with cream, no sugar. She’d already put three of his favorite cream filled doughnuts on his plate and two chocolate covered ones on hers. Then she told him about her days at Allistair Manor since Cee Cee’s disappearance. She told him a horror story. The note that had appeared in her bedroom was chilling enough, but screams in the night, a crazy woman running through the garden, a surly ex-con and a cryptic mother-in-law going in and out of locked rooms?
“I don’t think it’s safe for you and Annie there.”
“I didn’t mean to make it sound so awful. Everything is weird right now, and I had to be a whiney baby and talk it out with you. It’s like suddenly being thrust into the middle of a Technicolor thriller movie after living a quiet life in black and in white. Honestly, Jack, I believe the only danger we’re in is that I might lose my sanity.”
Her attempt at humor didn’t make a dent in the worry he felt for her. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
She heaved a dramatic sigh, and the only good thing he could say about that was at least she was no longer crying.
“I just needed to get everything off my chest, that’s all. My fiancé has better security than the city of Ocean Springs. As a precaution I’m not letting Annabelle go anywhere without me or Stephen right now. If I believed we were really in danger, I’d move us into a hote
l.”
“You can stay with me. My apartment is big enough for both of you.”
“I couldn’t possibly do that. I can’t just walk out, not on the flimsy notion that I’m scared of a mysterious note and things that go bump in the night. What if Cee Cee comes back? She wouldn’t even know where to find us.” She stopped talking and worried her lower lip.
He knew she was grasping at straws, doing the Lily thing and always trying to make the best of her situation. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong at the Allistair mansion.
“I wish you’d change your mind and stay at my place.” He couldn’t bring himself to say, Until the wedding. He didn’t even want to think about it.
“It’s a very appealing offer, to have my own space again and not worry about anything except finding Cee Cee. But moving out in the middle of the holiday season and a desperate search would invite all kinds of negative press.” She twisted her diamond ring around her finger. “This ring has to mean something. I made a commitment to a man whose family is under constant scrutiny, and I don’t take that lightly.”
“I know you don’t. And I understand.” The situation was impossible, but his hands were tied. “You and Annie be careful, that’s all. I couldn’t bear to lose either of you.”
Lily couldn’t bear to lose him, either. But considering her growing uncertainty about her own feelings, saying so felt like a betrayal of both Jack and Stephen. Until she could have a clear mind to think about her choices and her future, Stephen would remain her fiancé and Jack would remain her friend. Period. As long as there was a shred of hope for the bright future she’d planned for her daughter, she’d fight for it.
“Jack, I had to get away today. Out of that house. Just talking to you always helps me see my problems more clearly.”
“Anytime.”
“No. I can’t keep doing this. Just tell me what you found out about Cee Cee’s birthmother, no matter how depressing it might be, and I’ll let you get back to your practice.”
“Can I stay long enough for a second cup of coffee?” His grin was so open and spontaneous, Lily found herself smiling back.
Her cell phone rang as he was heading to the coffee pot. He glanced back and she mouthed, Detective Yancy. The conversation was brief, and it struck fresh terror into Lily’s heart. This new fear prompted her to pass along some of her concerns.
“Lily?” Jack sat at the table with his fresh coffee. “What’s happening?”
“The detective said Cee Cee’s text had pinged off a cell phone tower in Biloxi. That’s where the Waycaster girl was last seen.”
“I saw that on TV. I was glad to hear you telling the detective about your suspicions of Graden Young and Glenda Jane Bates.” He slid into his chair, his face a study in worry. “I don’t know how to say this except flat out. Cee Cee’s mother was last seen in Little Rock, Arkansas.”
“Then Cee Cee couldn’t possibly have met her in Biloxi.” Lily’s heart hurt. Hope was a fragile thing. To have it die a sudden death was almost unbearable.
“No. Before Arkansas, Frankie was in New Jersey then Maryland then South Carolina. As far as I know, she’s not in Biloxi and never has been.”
“Oh, Jack.” Fear clutched Lily’s stomach, and she thought she was going to be sick. “It gets worse.”
“How much worse?”
“A lot. The detective did some digging to see if Cee Cee’s disappearance was connected to Debbie Waycaster. He turned up six more teenaged girls missing in the past two years along the Gulf Coast all the way from Alabama to Mississippi.”
“Were they investigated as being connected?”
“No. Like the Waycaster teen, they either had careless parents or none at all and were not reported missing for weeks after their disappearances. They were all listed as runaways.” Lily’s stomach lurched. If she didn’t know there was absolutely zero chance of it, she’d think she was pregnant. “I’m terrified for Cee Cee.”
“Is Yancy looking for her now?”
“Yes. She’s now officially considered missing, and so are the other girls. He’s working with detectives in Gulf Shores, Mobile, Biloxi and Gulfport. He’s going to Allistair Manor now to ask some more questions. He’ll probably question Annabelle, too, because she was one of the last people to see Cee Cee.” Alive. Lily couldn’t bring herself to say it.
Suddenly she thought about her daughter, facing a grilling from police. “I’ve got to get back to Annabelle.”
“Of course, you do. Meanwhile, I’m going to have my friend try to get in touch with Frankie Cartwright. That’s the only way we’ll know for certain whether she actually took Cee Cee.”
“Jack, I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”
“Anytime, Lily. You know that.” He flashed her that look she’d come to depend on--open, trustworthy, caring. “I’m also going to ask him to look into these other missing girls.”
“What does this friend do?”
“He was my college roommate and worked with the Biloxi Police Department until an injury ended his career. Now he’s a PI.”
“Tell him to please, please hurry.”
The longer Cee Cee remained missing, the less chance she had of being found alive. That was the horror that played through Lily’s mind, the terror that lent her wings as she hugged Jack--briefly but close and hard—locked up Lily’s Designs then drove back toward Allistair Manor.
Chapter Twelve
Stephen was in the greenhouse nursery when the police car arrived. What fresh nightmare was this? A balding man with a belly that made him look like Humpty Dumpty toddled across the pebble path and headed straight for the nursery door. The local law. He recognized that doughy face from the newspaper. Yates? Young? He couldn’t remember the name.
He wanted to kill Glenda Jane. Yes, he did. This morning she’d still been smarting over the dressing-down he’d given her about scaring Lily in the kitchen garden. She was paying him back by sending the cops to disturb his precious babies.
“Don’t you worry,” he told his cultivars, the Daphne and the Margaret. “Daddy will get rid of this big bad wolf. Yes, he will.”
Thankfully, Lily’s opinionated daughter was in the shed mixing one of the special blends of fertilizer. Congratulating himself on his foresight in keeping her close at hand, Stephen headed the detective off before he got within three feet of the nursery door.
There. On his shirt. His badge with his name.
“Detective Yancy, what can I do for you?” The detective’s sweaty face beamed at such a cordial greeting coming from Ocean Springs’ most famous citizen. He probably liked hearing his name, too. Most people did.
“Mr. Allistair? I want to ask you a few questions.” The detective’s smile vanished as he waved his hand in front of his nose. “What’s that smell?”
“That’s compost. Liquid gold to any rose grower worth his salt.” He hated down-home talk, but it seemed to make people like the detective feel at ease.
Stephen glanced in the direction of the shed. Through the open door he could see Annabelle at the back. Obviously, she hadn’t seen the detective, or she’d be out here, knee deep in this sorry business of her missing friend. She and Lily were both taking Cee Cee’s disappearance far harder than anyone could ever have imagined. Who knew they’d be that invested in one of society’s throw-away kids?
He wrapped an arm around the detective and steered him back into his car. “If you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride back to the office, I’d appreciate it. The sun’s made this day hotter than expected. We can talk inside where it’s more pleasant.”
Success. The fool obligingly started his car and drove off, grinning.
Was that powered sugar on his shirt? No wonder Stephen had such an easy time moving him along. Though the detective was much shorter, he outweighed Stephen by a good fifty pounds, most of it carried in a belly that entered the room before the rest of him did.
Back at the office, Glenda Jane hustled when Stephen sai
d, “Coffee, in the office, pronto.” She knew what she’d done. She also knew she was going to find life in the office far more demanding than it had been before her recent nocturnal foolishness.
He made a mental note to make some upgrades around the archives and inform the guards at the gates that Glenda Jane would no longer have free rein to come and go at night as she pleased.
Then he turned his attention to coffee. It was rich and dark, impressive to a man used to the tepid swill that passed for coffee at the police station. Stephen made quick work of telling Yancy every detail of what he and Clive had seen on the morning of Cee Cee’s disappearance.
“Since you and your dad were apparently the last two people to see this girl before her disappearance, I’ll need a statement from the elder Mr. Allistair, as well.”
The arrogance of the man. Stephen tamped down his irritation. “Clive caught a chill yesterday and is confined to bed.”
“I can send an officer to record his statement at the manor when Mr. Allistair is able.”
“Thank you, Detective Yancy.” It was easy to win him over with feigned appreciation. “I’ll give you a call and let you know.”
Through the window Stephen spotted Lily’s red Jeep coming up the winding driveway to the office complex. At the fork, she turned toward the greenhouses. He rammed his balled fists into his pockets. Before he knew it, Lily would be dragging her obnoxious daughter to the office, and who knew what ridiculous things she’d decide to tell?
Not for the first time since Annabelle had been at the manor, he wished he’d selected a woman without children to be his wife.
He clapped Yancy on the shoulder and steered him toward the door. “I hate to cut this short, but I have a conference call in five minutes.”
“I had hoped to speak with Mrs. Perkins and her daughter again. Are they at the manor?”
“I’m afraid you’ve missed them. They had some errands to run. Wedding related, I believe. They won’t be back until evening.”