“No problem. The more the merrier.”
“Sounds good.” I glanced up to see several people hurrying into the church. “Text me the address? I’ve got to run.”
“Will do.”
I hung up, put my phone on mute, shoved it inside my purse, grabbed my umbrella, and fell in step with the lively band of churchgoers.
Sally West was younger than her husband, at least from my memory of him which would have to do since he was not at church. Disgruntled with God along with the rest of the world? Very possibly.
“I do hope you return to our church, Jenny,” Sally was saying. “And if you’d like I can tell you about all our groups and functions. I think you’d particularly like the book club.”
Apparently I had told her enough about myself that she had gleaned that I liked to read. “It does sound like something I’d enjoy. I’m just so busy at home right now. It’s difficult to get away when my husband isn’t home to help.”
“Oh, do you have children?” The sadness in her eyes and the longing in her voice told me what I had come here to find out.
“I do. Two. And they’re very active. Sports, dance lessons. It seems I’m always driving them somewhere.” Only a slight deviation from the truth. Okay, so my children were grown, off to college, and I was recently-divorced and newly-engaged. I had also refrained from telling her my correct last name, just in case she mentioned it to her husband. As much as I would have liked using MacGregor, Jim West had met both of us and might very well remember our names. As difficult as it was, I had resorted to using Campbell. Considering that it was the name I had used for twenty years, it should have been more comfortable. It wasn’t.
“You’re very blessed,” Sally said. She swallowed hard before continuing. “Don’t worry about coming to any functions during the week. By all means spend time with your children. That’s the most important job we can have.”
“I agree. There’s nothing more important. Do you have children, Sally?” I turned so I was facing her while I waited for her initial response. It was all the confirmation I would need.
First came the crumble to a frown, then the moisture in her eyes—both of which made me feel like a cruel sadistic villain. And finally the words, “Unfortunately no. We haven’t been blessed with children.” She forced a smile. “Not for lack of trying. I think perhaps it’s been stress that’s prevented me from getting pregnant.”
“I’m sure that can happen. Have you considered adopting?”
“I have, but my husband is not in favor of it. He says if the good Lord wanted us to have children, we would have our own.”
I thanked her for her kindness, and walked back out into the rain. No guilt, only deep sadness. They had not paid someone to kidnap Ally. She was not hidden away in their home. Short of being as accomplished an actress as Meryl Streep, she could not have faked her reactions. She was suffering for not having a child in her life.
“We have a lead.”
I pulled over so I could talk to Charlie. “What is it?”
“Jack and Rochelle just called. Apparently Jeff Palmer, the kid who’s on academic probation, is missing.”
“Missing?”
“The police have been trying to find him to question him and apparently he’s disappeared. His parents told them he didn’t show up at home when he was supposed to. Of course it could mean nothing. He may not want to go home and face the music.”
“Or, he could be our kidnapper.”
“Right.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing yet. The police are on it. I’ll wait to see what they discover. What about you? Anything?”
“I don’t think the Wests are behind the kidnapping.” I explained why I believed that.
I could hear Charlie’s exasperation through the phone. It would have been so simple. Coach and his wife want baby. Coach puts one of his students up to stealing baby. Coach and wife end up with baby. Case solved. Baby comes home.
“I’ll have Manny stay on his tail just in case. It’s possible he orchestrated this whole thing but his wife doesn’t know anything about it yet.”
“That’s true, Charlie.”
“He could be waiting for all the news to die down so she doesn’t connect the dots.”
“True again.”
“They’ll pick up and move to the Midwest and he’ll surprise her with a baby and they’ll live merrily ever after.”
“Possibly.”
“But you don’t think so.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Just a hunch. But keep Manny on the job. Better to be safe than sorry.”
“Ah, there’s my detective daughter. The best of both worlds—hunches and logic.”
“Whatever it takes,” I mumbled. I too was feeling disheartened now. “We have to find Ally, Charlie. It’s been three days.”
“I know, luv. We’ll interview every blasted instructor at the college if we have to. But I think our best leads are the runners.”
“I agree.”
“If the coppers don’t turn up this missing kid soon, I’ll get on it as well.” I couldn’t tell if he was saying that to comfort me or himself.
“Anything on the Green case?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, there has been an interesting development elsewhere.”
“What’s that?”
“Casey and Cat Green were picked up for dealing cocaine.”
“What? That’s absurd! They have enough money to last a lifetime.” Which didn’t stop them from drooling over MacGregor’s independent wealth. Hmm. But drug dealing?
“Apparently they always have liked playing Russian roulette in some form or another.”
“That one is going to take me a while to assimilate. Anything else?”
“Och, aye, George Green’s Mercedes was keyed this morning.”
“Keyed? Seriously?” Hardly on the level of attempted murder. More an angry adversary lashing out.
“It was parked in the parking lot attached to his office building.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Apparently he went in to take care of some paperwork.”
“Is the lot secured?”
“Unfortunately there’s no guard on Sundays. But there are cameras. I’m there now, just went through the surveillance tape and there was nothing. Whoever did it knew how the cameras are angled and either crawled on his—or her—belly through the entire bloody parking lot to the car or came up the stairs adjacent to the car. I’m trying to convince George to hire a body guard for both him and Judy.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Male pride. Shades of Sharkey, and we know what happened there. But he is considering it. Until he does, I have one of my guys keeping an eye on Judy. I should have one on him too, but I’m afraid he’d notice. Bodyguards would be better because they can stick closer. My guy has to keep a distance and stay out of sight, but it’s all we can do until he gives his consent.” His sigh spoke volumes. He was his own harshest critic. That, along with high expectations often caused him to berate himself for not having solved a crime in fewer than twenty-four hours.
“I know we haven’t made much progress on either of these cases, Charlie, but something will break.” It had to. Especially where Ally Elliot was concerned.
“I hope you’re right, darlin’, and the sooner the better. In the meantime, come on home. Spend some time with your children.”
“Holly’s there?”
“Aye. I just called over there. And Matt will be there too. He just ran out for a wee bit but will be back shortly.”
This was good. She might actually be willing to spend more than three minutes with me if her brother was there to act as a buffer.
“I’ll be at Malcolm’s. I need to go over some things with him and brief Josh on which kids to focus on when he’s at the track tomorrow.”
Within fifteen minutes, I was parked in MacGregor’s driveway and walking across the st
reet to Charlie’s. I would not push her. I would stay relaxed. I would not so much as insinuate the neediness of a rejected mother. Casual, relaxed, unimposing, unthreatening, downright cool. That’s what I would be.
“I’ve missed you,” were the unfortunate first words to slither out of my mouth.
She responded with a shrug.
“Would you like to do something together today?”
Another shrug. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could go shopping.” Damn. I definitely sounded desperate. It was the second time in two days that I’d made that offer. If anyone knew how much I hated shopping, it was my daughter. And it wasn’t simply that I hated it. In Holly’s words, I “sucked” at it. I always managed to be distracted by the nearest bookstore or cappuccino.
“You hate shopping.”
Now I was the one shrugging. “Not if it’s with you.”
A raised eyebrow challenged my honesty. “Besides, I don’t really need anything.” Okay, this was far worse than I thought. Needing clothes had never been among the criteria for Holly’s desire to shop.
Before I could open my mouth, or close it from the shock, she had slipped on her down jacket and stepped into her Mukluks that stood waiting by the door. “I’m going for a walk.”
No invitation to join her. I wasn’t dumb or desperate enough to invite myself. I glanced over at the clock on Charlie’s mantel. We hadn’t even made it to three minutes this time. I should have waited until Matt returned.
I watched her through the picture window as she headed across the street toward the park. Bundled in equally warm clothes, Maureen and Jillian were sitting on a park bench, looking out at the Sound. Maureen patted the bench and Holly joined them. Three girls sitting in a park in the Seattle mist. At least it wasn’t raining.
I don’t know how long I watched them, wishing I had planted a device on one of them and could hear their conversation. Surely it couldn’t be significant. Maureen and Jillian knew each other but Holly was in essence a stranger to them. And there was an age disparity among them that in their youth mattered more than later in life. Jillian was sixteen, Holly eighteen, and Maureen twenty-four. They couldn’t possibly be carrying on a meaningful conversation.
I didn’t feel envious or jealous often. It wasn’t in my nature. So, why was I jealous of Maureen and Jillian? Why did I envy them for having my daughter’s company and attention? My heart actually felt as if it were aching. Holly could talk to me about anything. She knew that. I was always willing to listen. Not only listen, but listen without judgment. She knew this about me. I would understand whatever it was she needed to say. She knew that too.
So, why was she deep in conversation with two strangers? What could she possibly be talking about with them? It hit me like a thunderbolt. They could be discussing what they had in common. They were from broken homes, including my own children now. My kids had joined that private club. Not so private anymore.
Did my daughter not trust me to listen and understand? Did she not remember that I too was from a broken home?
Strange word for it, broken. But that was the word we used. And it was appropriate. A relationship had broken up, therefore causing a split in the home, the entire family. And so the children suffered for an adult relationship gone bad. Guilt stabbed at my heart and I blinked hard against the tears. It wasn’t my fault, I reminded myself. Joe had betrayed me. I took a deep breath and acknowledged what I really believed. Somewhere along the way, I too had allowed the breaking to happen. I too was responsible for our growing apart.
But I was the one who was the beneficiary of the broken home. I was marrying the most wonderful man on the planet. Okay, maybe that was a little over the top. MacGregor was not perfect. He had his flaws. I was still working on finding them, but they were there. He was, after all, only a man. He just happened to be a man who had loved me and waited for me for twenty years, a man who was devoted to me, a man who cherished every moment we spent together. And he was the man I loved. I was definitely benefiting from my divorce.
Whereas my children were the victims. They were the ones who wondered where home was, how to celebrate holidays with only one parent, and how to assimilate a different person into their family portrait.
When I spotted Matt just as he reached the bottom of the porch steps, I opened the door. He looked from me to the park and back again. He knew where my thoughts were. Definitely a writer at heart.
“It’s okay, Mom.” My comforting son. He hugged me before sliding out of his jacket and hanging it on the coat tree near Charlie’s front door.
“Is she going to spend any time with me, do you think?”
“Have some faith, Mom. You know Holly. She’s as stubborn as—”
“Charlie?”
He laughed. “And you.”
True. I had inherited Charlie’s tenacity. “I just don’t want her to feel alone. I’m really grateful she has Charlie and you and that you’re staying here with her.”
Matt snorted out a laugh. “Not sure she appreciates that. I’m afraid I failed her.”
“Failed her? How?”
“She was looking for someone who would support her wrath and fury. I’m afraid I told her I’m all for your marrying Mac.”
“Are you, Matt? Are you really?”
“Of course. I think you’re great together.” He gave me that impish grin he got when he was about to tease me. “Adorable.”
I groaned.
“No, seriously, Mom. You’re good together. And he loves you a lot. It’s hard to miss that.”
As if on cue, my phone signaled a text message. I pulled it out of my pocket only because I knew it was MacGregor. Although the last time I had assumed that, it was Scott.
“What did he say?” Matt asked. “And if you’re wondering how I know it’s Mac, it’s not because I’m intuitive like you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Okay, well maybe sometimes, but in this case, it was because of the silly grin on your face. So, what did he say?”
I laughed. “Apparently he can see me from his living room window. He’s been watching me watch Holly talking to Maureen and Jillian.”
“And?”
“And he said not to worry. He’ll pay Maureen a visit later.”
“Which translates as you’ll soon know the details of their conversation.”
I nodded. “Knowing how comfortable Maureen is confiding in Mac, I’d have to say yes.”
Matt kissed me on the cheek and went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. A family tradition, the McNair side anyway. “Tea?”
I sighed. “I should probably leave. Otherwise your sister will never come home. If I know her, she’ll stay in the park and freeze.”
“To punish you?”
“Wise beyond your years, you are.”
Matt left the stove and walked over to me. “It will get better, Mom.”
“You’re sure?”
He nodded. “It’s just that you kind of gave her an excuse, you know? To blame you. If you and Mac weren’t– together, she wouldn’t be acting this way. But now she has an excuse to take it out on you.”
“Because she wants it to be my fault. She wants to blame me.”
“Pretty much. Even though she’s really mad at Dad for what he did. I mean, it’s hard to get past that. Your father cheating on your mother? Really hard. But—”
The truth was, she would have found a way to blame me. Maybe I’d boiled his eggs too long, used the lavender laundry detergent by accident instead of the unscented, not dressed up enough for a lawyer bash to which we were invited, come late to the party, found an excuse not to go to the party . . . Whatever the crime was, it was enough to drive him into the arms of another woman. And therefore, I was the one at fault.
“But, she adores her father,” I finished for him.
“Yeah. She just can’t admit how betrayed she feels and how angry she is at him, but I can tell.”
“How?”
“She looks
the way I feel. Only it’s easier for me to say it. I’m not as close to Dad as she is. Never was.”
I draped an arm around my son’s shoulder. “I know.” I’d always felt bad about that. Ever since Matt had become a teenager, there had been a disconnect between them. Or maybe it was later when Matt told his father he wanted to be a writer instead of an attorney. Or maybe there had always been a subtle underlying competition between the two of them, one I had chosen to ignore. “Are you okay with taking Holly to see your dad?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, it has to happen sooner or later. I figure, better with Holly than alone.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“A couple times. Mostly I ignore his calls. He keeps inviting me over or wanting to take me out to dinner or something.” He laughed. “Tries to bribe me with healthy vegetables. But—” He looked down at his feet, just the way he did when he was eight years old and knew he was in trouble. “I guess I wasn’t ready.”
“But you are now?”
“I guess it’s more that I want to support Holly. I mean, really, I’d like to smack some sense into the brat, but it doesn’t look like that would work, so all there is for me to do is—”
“Support her.”
“Yeah. She’s confused, Mom. Sad and hurt and she’s not willing to look at why.”
“So, she’s trying to make it all about me.”
“Pretty much. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Matt. I just want you to know I really appreciate your support. It’s not your job, but somehow you’ve taken it on, supporting me and MacGregor, and your little sister.” At the same time. Quite a feat.
He smiled that impish smile again that he had inherited from his grandfather. “I can handle it. She’s only here for a week. Then things can get back to normal. Whatever normal is.”
The whistling kettle was beckoning. He kissed me on the cheek. I opened the front door, closed it behind me, and stood at the top of my father’s porch. Whatever normal is. I supposed it was what we made it or decided it was. Not an easy task amidst family dynamics and dysfunction. But we all had it. I stared across the street at the three girls huddled together on a park bench. Yep, we all had it.
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