Libby didn't know why he was being prodded to retrace his steps, but she trusted the source of these urgings. "All I can tell you is that having those impressions and being led to me wouldn't have happened unless it was important. You are being led to do this."
Kipp looked up, his eyes tearful. "I don't want to get my hopes up. It's too risky."
"Everything good in life is risky. Don't let this opportunity go." She handed him a tissue.
He paused, deep in thought. "I don't know if I can go through this again."
"I understand, and I wouldn't want to push you. Why don't you go home and sleep on it. If you decide to come back, you can ask me whatever you want, and we'll see where it leads."
Kipp struggled to his feet. Libby led him down the hallway to the front door. In the sunlight he looked worse than when he'd arrived--dark circles around his eyes, his face pale and strained.
Her heart went out to him, and she wrapped him in a caring embrace. He lowered his head on her shoulder, his arms limp at his sides. She sensed a heaviness deep within.
She patted his back and told him to think about everything that had been said. He gave her a drooping smile and turned to leave. She watched his car lumber down the road.
* * *
CHAPTER 10
Kipp blinked his eyes to stop the burning. He was beyond exhaustion and in no condition to drive all the way to Port Anderson. If he were lucky, he might catch Charlie at home. He could never remember Charlie's ever-changing schedule.
Charlie lived across town from Libby, in the southwest part of town, in a small cul-de-sac of ramblers. In twenty minutes Kipp turned onto Charlie's street and into his driveway and parked next to the Chevy pickup. Kipp dragged his tired body to the front door, was about to knock, when the buzz of a chainsaw revved up from the backyard.
He wandered around the beige house, following the smell of freshly cut wood, and opened the back gate. Inside the yard he had to protect his eyes from flying wood chips. Charlie switched off the saw and pulled off his safety glasses.
"Isn't it a little early to be cutting up wood for the winter?"
"You look like you've been dragged over gravel."
"Yeah, well, I just had a conversation with Libby."
"Come on inside. I'll get us something to eat. I'd offer you a beer, but it might not be a good idea, especially if you're driving home."
"I really shouldn't drink anything."
"I'm going to the station in a little while. I'll make us a sandwich, and you can catch a nap if you want to. You look like you could use one."
Kipp couldn't argue with that.
From the fridge Charlie took out the mustard and a package of ham. "So what did she tell you this time?" He stood at the counter making sandwiches while Kipp told him about the unsettling events leading up to his meeting with Libby, including seeing images of a little girl.
Charlie blew out a whistled breath. "That would be enough to send me packing. Now that you've got my attention, what did our local voodoo gal tell you? Did she say you were going to grow scales?"
"You were the one who encouraged me to see her, if I remember right."
"Well, what did she say?"
"She said a bunch of psychic mumbo jumbo, but the bottom line was she told me I should start looking for Kelly again."
"And are you?"
"I don't know if I have the stomach for it. I don't want to get my hopes up."
Charlie brought the sandwiches to the table. "Listen to her, Kipp. Do it."
"Why do you defend the woman, the 'voodoo gal,' in your own words? You're a black-and-white, by-the-book cop."
"All I know is she helped the police up north find some kids. I think it's worth a try."
When they'd finished their meal, Kipp followed Charlie past a sink of dirty dishes into the living room.
"If you can find the couch, it's yours."
"It's been a year, Charlie. I thought you'd learn to keep a house by now." Kipp removed a pile of wrinkled shirts, a crumpled beer can, and an opened newspaper from the sofa. "Have you heard from Patty and the kids lately?"
"The kids call once in a while. I guess their mom is moving on. She's dating again."
"Too bad."
"I'll get over it. Make yourself comfortable. I'm going out to finish up."
Charlie banged the kitchen door on his way outside to finish his project, and Kipp slipped off his shoes and lay on the couch. He heard the chainsaw start up, then drifted into sleep. Later on, he vaguely heard the clicking sound of the front door, then silence again.
Libby populated his inner space--on her porch, at the airport, in his car. But what he remembered last before he was stirred awake were the eyes of his daughter.
He sat up alarmed. "What the..." Disoriented, he scanned the room and glanced at the window--Charlie's house, still daylight. He checked his watch. It was four in the afternoon. He'd only slept three hours, but it seemed like days. He ran his hand over his jaw and realized it had been a while since he'd shaved.
Maybe it was the rest, maybe it was his talk with Charlie, or maybe it was Kelly's pleading eyes, but something had shifted in Kipp. He remembered the dream he'd had just before waking up: Kelly was on his lap, and he was reading her a story about a princess lost in a meadow. Kelly begged him to find her.
The confusion had cleared. Kipp knew what he had to do. He used Charlie's phone and punched in Libby's number. No one answered.
When he returned from the bathroom, he grabbed the phone to call her again, but thought better of it. He remembered his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His hair was greasy, his face unshaven to the point of looking dirty. He looked like a bear coming out of a winter's cave. First things first.
* * *
Every table was taken at the Harbor Restaurant, Harbordale's premier eating establishment. Libby and Ellen were dining near a window that provided them with a view of the inlet at sunset. Wispy clouds were bathed in pink, and the pinks and deep blues of the sunset mirrored the colors of the restaurant's décor.
The waitress, a young woman dressed in uniform black, brought Ellen a glass of the house wine, a dry Chardonnay, and Libby a glass of water with a lemon wedge. Before taking her first sip, Libby clinked glasses with Ellen.
"To two gorgeous women out on the town," Ellen said.
"I'm glad I took a nap after Kipp left, or I wouldn't look so great."
"He really affects you, doesn't he? Did you ever wonder why that is?"
"He's going through a difficult time, and he's a client. That's nothing new."
"But I've never seen you this frazzled with any other client. I mean, you have to take a shower and nap after he leaves."
Libby sipped her water without commenting.
"He's getting under your skin, isn't he?"
"I'm just being empathetic. That's my job."
Ellen leaned back and folded her arms. "Libby McGraw, it's more than that. Some of your clients wait weeks to talk to you. Not Kipp, and you don't even charge him." She straightened her posture, her attention suddenly drawn away from Libby. "There's Charlie Bender at the hostess station."
Libby twisted around to get a better look. When she turned back, Ellen was waving Charlie over. "What are you doing?"
"I want to see him up close and personal. Doesn't he look like a younger Randy Quaid?"
"You and your obsession with movie stars."
Charlie sauntered up to their table.
"You shaking down this place?" Ellen said.
"Just picking up an order."
"Why don't you join us?" Ellen offered and was the recipient of a scorching look from Libby.
"No can do. I've got to get back to the station."
"You're eating pretty high and mighty tonight," Ellen said.
"Expensive burgers. So, what are you doing in town?"
"I'm staying with Libby for a while. Marital problems."
"I know all about that."
"Oh?"
"Patty and I spl
it about a year ago."
"I didn't see her at the reunion, but I didn't want to pry. I'm sorry to hear that," Ellen said.
"Just one of those things. Happens to the best of us."
"You know Libby, don't you?"
Charlie turned to Libby. "You're the gal that's got my buddy all tied up in knots."
"Your buddy?"
"Kipp Reed."
Libby was at a loss for words but was saved by the hostess calling Charlie's name.
"Got to go. Nice to see you ladies." Charlie focused his full attention on Libby. "Take good care of my friend. He needs your help."
Ellen followed his every movement as he strolled past the other tables back to the hostess. "God, he's sexy."
"You never quit, do you?"
"If I weren't married...Charlie was always the guy you could count on in high school. Mr. Responsible. I had to marry Mr. Life-of-the-Party."
The waitress brought a salmon dinner for Libby and seafood fettuccine for Ellen.
Ellen placed a napkin in her lap. "How come Charlie gets to know Kipp's problems, and I, your best friend, am kept in the dark?"
"That's Kipp's choice. It's not up to me to say anything. You know that."
"I was just kidding," Ellen said. "You're always so serious, Libby. Where's your sense of humor? I know you've had a difficult time these last few years, but I, on the other hand, am always cracking jokes. I wonder why that is? I guess for me it's easier to hide behind all the laughs."
Libby studied Ellen's eyes. "You're not happy here, are you?"
"Of course I am."
"I mean, away from Mel."
"It shows, huh?" Ellen laid her fork down. "Stupid, aren't I?"
"Not stupid. Lonesome."
"I have a confession to make."
By the glimmer of hope in Ellen's eyes, Libby didn't have to be psychic to know what was coming next.
"I'm thinking about trying again."
"So soon?"
"I miss the bastard."
A sad feeling lodged in Libby's chest. She hated to think Ellen might fall into the same old trap of accepting a life filled with betrayals.
"I've just decided. I'm going to surprise him." Ellen's eyes lit up even more, as if she were thinking of Christmas to come and anticipating all the gifts. "I'm going to go home on Thursday afternoon, cook him a sexy meal, bring out the candles and wine. When he gets home from work, who knows? Maybe we won't even need dinner."
"I thought you never knew from one day to the next when he was coming home."
"He always comes home on Thursdays to rest up for his Friday night poker game. But if I get him into bed, maybe he'll forget about cards."
"Do you really think that's wise?"
"I know it's a long shot. But I have to do something."
* * *
Kipp rinsed the flecks of hair down the drain and returned the electric shaver to the top drawer next to the sink. He knew Charlie wouldn't mind him borrowing the shaver. After all, he had made a disparaging remark about Kipp's appearance and any improvement would justify its use.
He ran his fingers through his shaggy mane. He needed a haircut. He'd needed one a month ago, but lately it hadn't been a priority.
Charlie's mouthwash tasted as sharp as vinegar. He gargled and gladly spit out the bitter liquid.
He towel-dried his hair, threw the towel in the hamper, and straightened up the bathroom, putting it in better order than he'd found it. Corners of the bathtub were growing dark mold, but he would leave the deeper cleaning for Charlie.
He checked his appearance in the mirror one last time. He looked better than he had in the last two days.
He slipped on his jeans and tee shirt and tried pressing out the wrinkles with both hands. If it weren't for Charlie's large size, he would have borrowed a clean shirt. What he had on would have to do.
In the living room he strapped on his watch. It was getting late, and he considered going home and calling in the morning. But changing his mind by morning was a real possibility, and he had to reach out now or forget about it altogether. He punched in Libby's number. This time she answered.
"Is this a bad time?"
"Kipp? What can I do for you?"
"I've made a decision. I'd like to see you tonight. Am I too late?"
"No, but it will be too late by the time you drive down here, plus I have a full day tomorrow."
"I'm in Harbordale, and I can be there in fifteen minutes. Please, Libby. I'm not sure how I'll feel by tomorrow."
"All right."
Kipp picked up his wallet and keys and locked Charlie's door on his way out. He took a shortcut to Libby's, avoiding the main part of town, cutting off five minutes, but the shadows of the forest were deepening by the time he knocked on her door.
Ellen answered, grinning. "As the world turns...Hello, Kipp."
As he entered the house, he forced a smile and hoped his face didn't register the disappointment he felt that Libby was not alone. "I didn't know Libby had company," he said.
Then Libby came into the room, decked out in a casual cotton skirt and blouse.
"Don't mind me," Ellen said. "You two go have your talk."
Kipp frowned at Libby, but she seemed to take him and Ellen being there at the same time in stride and motioned him toward her office. After she closed the door, he couldn't hide his irritation. "How much does Ellen know?"
"Don't worry. She knows people who come to see me are dealing with personal problems, but that's the extent of it. She doesn't know any details, so you can rest easy. Sit down and tell me what you've decided."
They took their respective chairs, and Kipp opened the conversation. "I've given it a lot of thought. In fact, I had another dream about her. I'll do it. I want to look for my daughter. I'm willing to try again. Just tell me what to do, where to start. You must think she's alive."
"I can't say that for sure. I don't know what you'll find. All I know is your guides want you to keep looking."
"I have to admit I'm not buying everything you're telling me about these so-called guides. But I want my daughter back, and I'll do anything to make that happen."
"You have to be prepared for any outcome. Are you willing to take that chance?"
Kipp's face slackened, as if he hadn't thought of the outcome being anything but positive. "I have to find her, Libby, no matter what. I have to have closure in whatever form that takes. Right now I have nothing."
"Then why don't you sit back and we'll have a look."
Kipp ignored her, instead sitting forward on the edge of his seat with his arms resting on his thighs, and waited for her to finish her prayer.
"I'll ask your guides directly what you need to know to begin your search." Libby's eyes moved from side to side behind closed lids and remained closed as she issued a response. "They're saying to start from the beginning, from where she was taken."
"She was taken from my home in Connecticut. I don't own it anymore."
"Not your house. The town where you lived."
"Where? Where in the town?"
"There was something left behind. A toy of some sort."
"Something left behind?"
"Something was missed."
"What something?"
"The police missed it."
"They looked at everything of hers."
"Who's the older woman with your daughter? Did she have a grandmother nearby?"
"Tanya doesn't have anyone. My mother lives in Florida."
"An older woman close to your daughter. I see the calendar changing from month to month. That indicates to me she was with your daughter frequently."
"Mrs. Crowley. The woman who helped me take care of Kelly after Tanya and I divorced."
"Ask Mrs. Crowley."
"The police questioned her extensively."
Libby opened her eyes and stared at Kipp.
"Do you think she's involved?" he said.
"I don't sense that, but it's not clear at this point. Just talk to her."
>
The heat in Kipp's body rose along with his frustration. "What the hell does this have to do with anything? I don't know why I even came."
"Kipp." Libby's eyes bore into him.
"All right. All right. I'll call her tomorrow."
"No. It's important that you talk to her face to face."
"Jesus, Libby, what's the point of all this?"
Libby stood abruptly. "You asked for my help. You'll have to trust what's coming through."
Kipp shot up from the chair. "You mean, trust this mumbo jumbo?"
Libby strode from the room. "You can do what you want."
Kipp shadowed her. "What do I pay you for your time?"
Libby spun around, causing him to stop short. "I don't take money from skeptics." Her remark silenced him.
Before he walked through the doorway, Libby grabbed hold of his arm. Instead of the eyes of a stone-cold businesswoman, he saw the eyes of a woman, soft and loving. "Follow your heart," she said.
The change in her manner stunned him, but in that moment, with her hand touching him, he longed to embrace her and to be comforted by her. She let go, and he snapped out of the dream. When he reached his car, he glanced back for reassurance, but she'd already disappeared inside.
On the drive back to Port Anderson, he considered her advice. Though he hardly comprehended her crazy symbols and psychic messages, in his heart he knew she was right. When he arrived home, he made arrangements to fly to New York the next day.
* * *
CHAPTER 11
On a last-minute whim Kipp booked a room at the Marriott Hotel for one night. By the time his plane landed at LaGuardia and he'd rented a car, it was close to midnight. He checked in and took the elevator to the third floor. Though the room was just another standard hotel room, it was decorated in cheery yellows and reds, and its cushy mattress and down pillows gave him hope for a restful night's sleep.
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