Gone (Deadly Secrets Book 2)

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “Yeah. Okay.” She stepped away. Tried like hell not to limp so he wouldn’t feel guilty about her injury again and try to help her back to the couch. Because the last thing she needed was him anywhere near her ever again.

  “Raegan,” he called out at her back.

  Not Raegs. She was back to Raegan again. Which—honestly—was probably fine. Better in the long run. Safer for her heart, for sure.

  She didn’t stop. Just hobbled to the arched doorway that led to the living room, unable to bear looking back.

  Because she knew if she did, she’d be lost forever.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Several hours later, Alec still felt like shit. And that feeling had nothing to do with the fact that he’d gotten zero sleep or that he’d frozen his ass off most of the night upstairs in his room.

  No, this feeling had to do with the fact he’d made Raegan feel like shit. And he didn’t have a flippin’ clue how to fix that for her.

  At least the power was back on. As the coffee finished brewing and sunlight slanted through the kitchen windows, casting a glare on the layer of white outside, he moved to the fridge, pulled it open, and frowned. No half-and-half. Raegan always liked half-and-half in her coffee. Man, he couldn’t even get her damn coffee right.

  Shuffling sounded behind him. When he turned and saw the woman who’d occupied his thoughts all night long standing in the doorway to the living room, her shiny auburn hair sticking out all over, her eyes sleepy, and his sweats all but hanging off her thin body, something in his chest felt as if it took a long, hard roll.

  “Is that coffee?” she asked, staring at the coffeemaker.

  “Yeah.” He pulled a mug from the cupboard and held it out to her. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” She took the mug without touching his fingers and reached for the carafe.

  He watched in silence as she filled her cup, feeling like an even bigger louse because she couldn’t look at him. “Sorry there’s no creamer.”

  “It’s fine.” She lifted the mug to her lips and sipped without turning.

  Whatever he’d felt in his chest dropped like a stone into his stomach, because this was worse than yesterday at the hospital. Worse even than that awkward meeting at his parents’ party. He racked his brain for something—anything—to say. “How’s your leg?”

  “Fine.”

  Fine. That was a word he knew well. One he used to get people to back off. Guilt twisted tighter inside him. “Raegan, about last night—”

  “Nothing happened last night.” She moved back toward the living room, limping slightly in a way that told him her leg wasn’t fine at all. “I already called a tow truck. It should be here in a half hour. Can I take a quick shower?”

  “Yeah.” Why did knowing she’d already called the tow make him feel like more of a schmuck? “I mean, that’s fine—good,” he corrected, silently cursing his word choice. “There’s a shower in the bathroom at the top of the stairs. Towels are beneath the sink.”

  “Thanks.”

  He followed her back into the living room. Watched, helplessly, as she grabbed her purse and headed up the stairs with her mug. He looked after her until all he could see through the spindles of the staircase was her bare feet and then finally nothing as she moved into the bathroom and closed the door with a snap, never once glancing his way.

  His chest stretched tight as a drum, and a thousand emotions he didn’t want to feel pummeled him from every side.

  Turning away, he scrubbed his hands over his face and told himself this was why he couldn’t be around her anymore. Because just the slightest smile or touch or brush of her skin against his made him miss her. And missing her—needing her—was a slippery slope for him. Tumbling off the edge of that slope had nearly killed him once before.

  But even as he tried to listen to his own sound reasoning, he realized he was taking the easy way out. One of the steps in his recovery program had focused on making amends. He’d done that with his parents and siblings, but he’d never made amends with Raegan. At the time, he’d rationalized that she wouldn’t want to see him and that interrupting her life would just make her miserable all over again. But he wasn’t interrupting her life now. She’d come to him.

  His feet stilled. He could make amends with her now. Even if it sent him into a funk for the next month, he could apologize and, hopefully, give her what she needed so she could finally let go of the past and move on.

  Heart racing, he lowered his hands and turned back toward the stairs, already thinking through what to say. His elbow knocked into her laptop bag sitting on the back of the couch and sent it toppling over. Cringing, he tried to grab the straps before the bag hit the floor, but he wasn’t fast enough. Papers, a calculator, and a half-empty water bottle dropped out.

  He knelt for the bag, relieved there was no laptop inside. Righting it, he shoved the water bottle and calculator back inside, then shuffled up the papers and was just about to replace them as well when he realized they were news printouts. About missing-child cases in and around the Pacific Northwest.

  Unease spread down his spine as he scanned the top page, flipped to the next, and scanned it and the others. He counted eight different articles about eight different kids, some as young as a year, others as old as three, who’d gone missing under questionable circumstances. A few he’d seen before, but several others were new.

  New and in Raegan’s bag. Research, he realized. Not for a story but for an obsession she still hadn’t let go.

  Slowly, he pushed to his feet and stared at the papers as his unease shifted first to disbelief and then to shock.

  She hadn’t driven out here last night in the middle of a snowstorm because she’d been worried about him. She hadn’t shown up at his parents’ party because she missed or cared about his family. She’d done both of those things because she wanted to suck Alec back into a useless search. Into a search he’d never survive if he let her. And she wanted that so much she’d even been willing to make a pass at him in his kitchen to get it.

  “Thanks for the shower,” Raegan said, the stairs creaking as she came down. “Where do you want me to put my tow—”

  She stopped two steps from the bottom. Lifting his head, Alec noted she was back in the clothing she’d worn yesterday, her purse slung over her shoulder, her hair pinned up, and her face clean of any of yesterday’s makeup. Only now that face was pale and full of guilt.

  Without even asking, he knew he was right.

  He lifted the papers in his hand. “What are these?”

  Her gaze flicked from his eyes to the papers. “Just some research . . . for a news segment.”

  “These were all printed yesterday. The time stamps say”—he glanced at the top paper again—“an hour before my parents’ party last night.”

  Twisting the damp towel in her hand, she moved down the rest of the steps. “It’s not what you think, Alec.”

  “It’s exactly what I think.”

  “Don’t—”

  “No, you don’t.” He stepped away from her, slapping the papers against his thigh, unable to believe he’d been so gullible. “I can’t believe you’re doing this again. You did this three years ago, and it got you nowhere.”

  “Things are different now.”

  “No, they’re not. You just want them to be different.”

  “This isn’t about Emma.” When he pinned her with a look, she said, “I mean, okay, maybe it is a little, but it’s mostly about these kids. They came from somewhere. That little girl yesterday was taken by someone. Each of the kids on those papers didn’t just wander away. They were abducted.”

  “And you think it’s the same someone who took our daughter? That’s ridiculous.” He held the pages out, flipping through each one. “Most of these are inner-city kids with divorced or unmarried parents. Parents who were probably involved in drugs or gangs or worse.”

  “Not all.”

  “Most of them.”

  “So what if they were? Those parents sti
ll deserve answers. Those kids deserve to have people looking for them. Searching. Never giving up. The same way people searched for our daughter and didn’t give up.”

  He didn’t want to talk about Emma. Didn’t want to think about her. He looked away and shook his head. “And here I thought you came all the way out here because you really were worried about me.”

  “I was. I am.” She stepped toward him. “I’ll admit I wanted to talk to you about some of this at your parents’ party, but that’s not why I drove out here. I knew you weren’t in the best frame of mind to discuss it, so I didn’t even bring it up. I really did want to make sure you were okay after yesterday.”

  “That makes me feel a whole lot better. You worrying about my frame of mind. Did Ethan tell you to come out here? Did he make you think I was a breakdown away from getting stinking drunk?”

  “No.”

  “Because it’s none of his damn business or yours what I do.” He slapped the papers on the top of her bag.

  “Alec—”

  “She’s dead, Raegan. She’s dead and buried somewhere, and we’re never going to find her. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. And the better off I’ll be, because I won’t have to hear about this shit ever again.”

  She recoiled as if he’d slapped her, and for a split second he regretted being so harsh, but she needed to hear it. Needed to admit it to herself. Needed to let go so she could finally move on.

  Like you’ve moved on?

  He pushed the thought aside. This wasn’t about him. It was about her and a stupid need for answers that she was never going to find.

  “What happened to the man I fell in love with?” she asked quietly. “The one who would do anything to help another person?”

  “He died. The same day our daughter did.”

  Her gaze drifted to her bare feet, and even though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders slumped and the fight seemed to seep right out of her.

  Son of a bitch. He was not going to feel guilty over that too. Not this time.

  The telephone rang. Clenching his jaw, Alec strode past her into the kitchen and jerked it from the wall. “What?”

  “Is this Alec McClane?”

  “Speaking. Who’s this?”

  “Jeremy Norris. We met yesterday at the hospital.”

  The edge of Alec’s vision turned red. Raegan’s boyfriend. Fucking fantastic. “What do you want?”

  “I’m actually trying to reach Raegan. Is she there by chance? She’s not answering her cell.”

  Alec was tempted to tell the prick she was there all right, in his bed, just to mess with the douche. But he didn’t. Because all he wanted right now was for both of them to get out of his life and leave him the hell alone.

  Mood growing darker, he lowered the phone and stalked out into the living room where Raegan was zipping her bag. “It’s for you.”

  Surprised, she looked up, then hesitantly took the receiver. “This is Raegan.”

  A whisper of guilt rushed over her features before she turned away and mumbled, “Hey,” into the phone. “No, everything’s fine,” she said.

  Alec tried not to listen, but dammit, this was his house. If she wanted privacy she could go outside. In the cold and snow.

  “Um, I don’t know,” she said in what sounded like a dazed voice. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

  A rumble sounded from outside, and Alec stepped around her toward the front window to see what it was. The tow truck she’d called rolled to a stop down the road near her Audi.

  “Oh my God,” Raegan mumbled. “Are you sure?”

  Crossing his arms, Alec turned to look back at her. Shock rushed over her suddenly pale features.

  “Yes, okay, I’m just about to leave. I’ll call you from the car.”

  She clicked “End.” Stared down at the cordless receiver. Turned in a daze as if searching for the base.

  “I’ll take it.” Alec moved toward her. She handed him the phone, careful not to touch him, he noticed, but as her gaze skipped past him, over the room, he was sure she saw none of it. “Raegan, what’s happened?”

  “Nothing.” She grabbed her coat from the back of the couch, pulled it on, then reached for her bag. Slinging it over her shoulder, she picked up her purse and moved around the couch.

  Unease rolled through his gut as she slid on her impractical pumps. An unease that caught him off-balance. “Something’s happened.” He stepped in her path so she couldn’t reach the door. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “You don’t want to hear about it.”

  Suddenly, he did. “Tell me.”

  Sighing, she looked up at him. And when their eyes met he saw that she wasn’t just shocked from her phone call or hurt from their earlier conversation, she was mad. Spitting mad, judging from the fire brewing in her deep-green eyes.

  “A two-year-old boy was abducted from his backyard early yesterday evening in North Portland. The babysitter didn’t notice he was missing until close to eight p.m. An Amber Alert was issued, but the police found no sign of him until this morning. Cops discovered an abandoned blue Ford Focus on the shoulder of Highway 26, about ten miles from Banks. Looks like it had engine trouble. The boy was in the backseat alone.” She stepped around him and pulled the door open.

  Cool air swept over Alec’s spine as he stood in the center of the room, his heart beating fast, his skin tingling not from the sudden drop in temperature but from a prickly heat that swept all over his body. An uncomfortable heat he didn’t like. He turned after her. “Raegan, was he—”

  She stopped on the snowy porch. “He’s alive. Just scared. Sorry I bothered you last night. It won’t happen again.”

  She tugged the door closed with a snap and rushed down the steps. Heart pounding hard, Alec stared after her through the rectangular windows in the top of the door, unsure what to do, what to say, what to think for that matter.

  Another missing kid. Gone without a trace. Almost the same age as Emma.

  Was it a coincidence? It had to be a coincidence. But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself of that fact, he couldn’t quite believe it.

  Raegan’s voice echoed in his head. “What happened to the man I fell in love with? The one who would do anything to help another person?”

  His mind stumbled back over the papers he’d scanned this morning. All those missing kids. Too many missing kids. The heat searing his skin intensified, and his pulse turned to a whir in his ears.

  He didn’t believe Emma was still alive. He knew she was dead. Knew John Gilbert had killed her, even if he could never prove it. But the kids who’d shown up in the last two days weren’t dead. They were alive. They had parents somewhere who were probably as desperate to find them as Raegan was to find Emma. And if they were somehow connected to the other missing cases in Raegan’s bag—and that was still a big if at this point—someone needed to figure out how. The police weren’t doing it. The FBI so far hadn’t been able to find a link. He and Raegan were both journalists. Their whole lives were spent investigating things others gave up on.

  Make direct amends with the people you have harmed . . .

  The ninth step in his recovery program echoed in his head. He still hadn’t made amends with Raegan. He’d wanted to this morning, then he’d found those papers. Something was always stopping him. Time, distance, work. Excuses. The heat in his skin turned to a tingle he couldn’t ignore. If he didn’t make things right with her now, he might never have the chance again. If he let her walk away this time, something inside told him he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

  His gaze drifted down the road to her car already out of the ditch and parked on the shoulder. The temperature had warmed up enough so the ice was beginning to thaw. He focused on Raegan standing next to her car, writing a check for the tow-truck driver.

  Urgency sent him into the kitchen. He shoved his feet into his boots and pushed the back door open. Moving quickly around t
he side of the house, his boots crunching on the snow, he headed down the drive. Out on the road, Raegan’s engine started, and exhaust spilled out of her tailpipe. Alec pushed his legs into a jog and reached her just as she pulled out onto the road.

  He rushed in front of her car. Her Audi jerked to a stop, and she stared through the windshield as if he’d lost his mind.

  The driver’s side door swung open. “What the hell are you doing?” She stepped one foot out of the car, her hand on the top of the door, her other hand still on the wheel. “Get out of my way.”

  He held up both hands. “Just wait.”

  “Wait for what? You already said everything there was to say.”

  “No. I didn’t.”

  Her features tightened with an anger he didn’t miss. “Just get out of my way, Alec.”

  She climbed back into the car, slammed the door. Panic spread through his chest. A panic he couldn’t contain. He moved to the driver’s side door and stood close—too close for her to pull away without running over his feet—and knocked on the glass.

  Her jaw clenched down hard as she lowered the window halfway. “What?”

  “Just . . . wait. Okay?” He floundered for the right words. Now that he was out here, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say.

  “I don’t have all day.” She glanced at the clock on her dashboard. “I have to be back in Portland for work.”

  It was barely six a.m. She didn’t have to be at work this early. She just wanted to get away from him. And he couldn’t blame her for that. Not after the things he’d said to her in his house.

  He rested his hands on his hips, searching again for the right words. “I’m sorry, okay? I know you think I’m an ass, and you’re right. I just . . .” Shit, this was harder than he thought. “I can’t go back there. Rock bottom is a place I won’t survive a second time. I can’t put my family—” No, that wasn’t right. “I don’t want to put you or anyone through that again.”

  Her shoulders relaxed, and her gaze drifted to the steering wheel. He watched the fight seep out of her like a helium balloon losing air. She knew he was talking about his drinking. Knew she was thinking about how bad it had been in the weeks before he’d finally left her. The only thing that kept him from losing it right now was the knowledge that she’d never seen him at his very worst.