“Oh, I think we can arrange that,” Alex said, with a great deal more enthusiasm than Naomi was sure he felt.
Taryn had simply shrugged again, and muttered, “Whatever,” as if she had no strong feelings about the marriage one way or the other. It was almost as if she didn’t want Alex to think that she cared what he did.
The tension between Alex and Taryn was almost tangible at times, and Naomi hoped their coming marriage wouldn’t make things worse. She wanted a chance to talk to Taryn alone, try to get a feel for the girl’s true emotions, but after dinner, Taryn went straight up to her room.
Just as puzzling as Taryn’s lack of emotion was Louise Wheeler’s overt animosity. She’d opened the door for Naomi, sour faced and disapproving, and all through dinner, as she’d served the meal, Naomi felt the woman’s gaze on her. When she looked up, Louise’s eyes would dart away, but there was no question that she did not approve of the hasty wedding plans. Maybe she was worried she would soon be out of a job, Naomi thought.
When the evening drew to its conclusion, Alex walked her to her car. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”
“No, it was fine.”
He smiled slightly. “I’d say it was better than fine. Taryn was civil at dinner, and these days, I count that as a success.”
“All girls go through a difficult stage,” Naomi said. “And I’m sure she must have been shocked when you told her we were getting married.”
“I would have thought so.” He gazed off into the darkness. “But you saw the way she acted tonight. It’s like she doesn’t even care.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to show how much she does care. For your sake. Maybe she’s afraid if she told you how she really feels, you’d be obligated to back out of the marriage.”
“That’s a nice thought, but she’s hardly been concerned about my feelings for quite some time,” he said with a resigned sigh.
“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Naomi asked softly. “I’m worried about her.”
He gave her a quick, anxious glance. “We’re doing this for her, remember?”
“But we’re also doing it for ourselves. Are we being selfish?”
“Selfish would be if you tried to take her away from her home, from the only father she’s ever known. Selfish would be if I refused to let her get to know the woman who may have given birth to her. If I tried to keep the two of you apart. We’re making the best of a very difficult situation, Naomi.”
“I know. But it just seems...”
He tilted his head, staring down at her. “What?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have any answers. I don’t know if what we’re doing is right. I just know that I’d give anything to spend time with my daughter. I’d do anything to protect her.”
“Even marry me?” There was a smile in his voice, and Naomi’s heart gave a funny little trip. “You don’t have to answer that.”
Naomi swallowed. “We both know why we’re doing this.”
“Yes.” There was a note of regret in his voice. “Will I see you tomorrow night?”
“No, I’m driving back to Eden for the weekend,” she said. “I have a lot to do before next Friday.”
“Naomi...”
“Yes?”
He said nothing, merely gazed into her eyes. Naomi’s pulse quickened, and her mouth went dry with nerves. Alex moved slightly toward her, his face shadowed and mysterious. He put a hand up to her cheek, and she closed her eyes.
“I know this isn’t going to be a conventional marriage, but we can make it work,” he murmured.
She didn’t trust herself to speak. The touch of his hand on her face sent a tremor of desire coursing through her. It had been so long since a man had touched her as if...he wanted her.
Everything stilled inside her as he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers. It was a soft kiss, gentle and sweet and almost tentative. She would not have thought Alex DeWitt capable of such tenderness, but if she’d learned anything about him in the past few days, it was that he was a man full of surprises.
The kiss was over in seconds, much too soon for Naomi, but the feel of his mouth lingered on her lips. She drove away, hardly daring to breathe for fear the magic of that moment would be lost forever.
Perhaps she hadn’t given enough consideration to what being married to Alex DeWitt would entail, she thought. Living in the same house with him day in and day out—not to mention the nights. She was attracted to him, had been from that first day in his office. How would she handle those feelings when they were alone together as man and wife?
The question wasn’t one she could shove to the back of her mind, and she pondered it at length as she drove home to Eden the next day. But packing up her clothes, paying bills, attending to the million and one details that had to be addressed before she could return to New Orleans soon took her mind off everything else.
She spent Friday afternoon handling personal business matters—transferring her meager checking and savings accounts to a New Orleans bank, arranging to have the utilities disconnected at her home. Eventually she might decide to lease the house, but she wouldn’t sell it outright because in three years, when Taryn went off to college and Naomi’s marriage to Alex dissolved, she’d need a place to come home to.
But she didn’t want to think about that right now, either.
She spent Friday going through boxes of pictures, and she grew weepy as she reflected on how many people she’d lost in her life. Sadie. Her mother. Grandmother Eulalia. And though Abby was still alive, she was in Virginia starting a new life for herself. Naomi felt very alone at that moment, and she had to remind herself that she, too, was embarking on a new life, one that would bring her closer to her daughter. She had every reason to be grateful, and not a single one to feel so melancholy.
But it was in this fragile state of mind on Saturday that she met with her co-director, Mary Ellison, of the Children’s Rescue Network. Naomi had begun organizing the Network six months after Sadie had disappeared. She’d had no funds, no experience, nothing really except her own dogged determination, her driving need to make sense of her tragedy.
When Mary had shown up on her doorstep, offering not only her assistance but also her expertise in working for years with other such organizations, Naomi had been thrilled. Mary’s own son had been kidnapped several years before that by her ex-husband, who’d taken him out of the country. Like Naomi, she’d dedicated her life to searching, not just for her own son, but for other missing children.
She and Naomi had traveled all over Mississippi, speaking at schools and various civic organizations, and they never missed an opportunity to be interviewed on television or in the print media because publicity generated donations to the foundation. They kept their overhead to a minimum, maintained contact with national organizations for missing and exploited children, the FBI, the Mississippi Highway Patrol, and various other statewide law enforcement bodies. They’d compiled a huge database of names and phone numbers so that literally within minutes of a child’s disappearance in Mississippi, they could activate a massive volunteer effort in the search.
Thanks in large part to Mary’s organizational skills, the Children’s Rescue Network operated like a fine-tuned engine, and Naomi couldn’t help but feel that she was throwing a monkey wrench in all their hard work and planning.
But Mary didn’t see it that way. Her dark eyes filled with tears when she heard Naomi’s story, and she pulled her into her plump arms. “All these years, I’ve prayed we would find your little Sadie, safe and unharmed, but that wasn’t meant to be. But to learn you have another child, to find her after all this time—it’s a miracle, that’s what it is.”
Naomi nodded, her throat tight. “I know.”
Mary held her at arms’ length, her expression stern as she searched Naomi’s face. “You go be with her, and you don’t look back. I’ll take care of things here. The Children’s Rescue Network is my mission now. You just take that girl of
yours in your arms and you don’t ever let her go, you hear me?”
“Yes,” Naomi whispered. “I hear you.”
“And you be happy. If anyone deserves a little happiness, God knows it you.”
Naomi prayed that she was right.
Driving back to New Orleans on Sunday afternoon, she stopped in Jackson to meet with Michael Donnelly, the private detective who’d located Taryn. Normally his office was closed on Sunday, but she’d called him from Eden on Friday, and he’d agreed to see her.
His office was located in a large nondescript building just off the freeway, and he was waiting in the lobby to let her in when she arrived. They made only perfunctory conversation as they rode the elevator to the ninth floor, but once they were settled in his office, Naomi told him everything that had happened since she’d seen him at the beginning of the previous week.
When she finished, his expression showed little of what he was thinking, but Naomi knew he was shocked. She still found it astonishing herself that she had agreed to marry a man she’d known for less than a week.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Miss Cross? Marrying this man seems a little drastic.”
“I know it must sound that way,” Naomi agreed. “But it makes sense to both of us. Alex is worried that Joseph Bellamy is going to sue for custody of Taryn, and given his connections in New Orleans, he could win. Alex’s lawyer seems to think he’ll stand a better chance in court if he can show that he’s providing the same stable environment for his daughter that the Bellamys are offering.”
“And that’s where you come in,” Donnelly said skeptically. When Naomi nodded, he said, “Don’t you think the court will see through this ruse? The two of you have known each other less than a week.”
“We’ve talked about that. That’s why we spent so much time together last week, and we’ll see even more of each other when I return to New Orleans. It may look suspicious, but whirlwind romances do happen.”
“But this isn’t a romance.”
For a moment, Naomi felt the tingle of Alex’s kiss on her lips, could imagine the dark passion in his eyes as he bent toward her, and then she blinked, dispelling the image.
“Even if the marriage helps him retain custody of his daughter, what do you get out of it?” Donnelly persisted.
“That’s easy. I get to be with my daughter. And Alex has also agreed to a DNA test.”
A frown played at Donnelly’s brow. “Why not hold off on the marriage until after the test? If you can prove you are Taryn’s birth mother, then you’ll have grounds to go after custody yourself.”
“I thought about that,” Naomi said with a sigh. “But there’s no guarantee I would be awarded custody. The court might decide it would be too damaging to remove Taryn from the only family she’s ever known. And besides, how could I do that to her? Alex is her father in every way that counts. Even though they’re going through a difficult time right now, I know she loves him. I don’t want to take her away from him.”
“Yes, but there’s no guarantee that the court won’t grant custody to the grandparents anyway, in spite of this sham marriage. Or maybe even because of it.”
Naomi smiled sadly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that there are no guarantees in life. If I marry Alex DeWitt, then I’ll get to be with my daughter. That’s all I want to think about right now. I’ll deal with the rest as it happens.”
“Some people would say that you’re making a hasty, ill-advised decision,” Donnelly said.
Naomi lifted her chin. “I’m sure that’s true. But I’d be willing to bet those same people have never lost a child. Marrying a man I hardly know seems almost inconsequential to me if it means I can spend even one precious moment with my daughter.”
Donnelly took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I can see there’s no talking you out of this.”
“No, there isn’t,” Naomi agreed. “But my upcoming marriage really isn’t the reason I wanted to see you.” She paused, unsure how she wanted to approach him. “When I hired you to find Taryn, I didn’t tell you much about my other daughter’s disappearance, did I?”
“No, not really.”
“Nor did you spend much time investigating Aubree DeWitt’s murder.”
He slipped on his glasses and gazed at her for a long moment. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Miss Cross, but I feel I need to defend myself here. You didn’t hire me to look into Sadie’s disappearance, nor Aubree DeWitt’s murder. You asked me to find out who else had given birth the same night you did at Eden Memorial Hospital, and to learn the whereabouts of said person and her child. I did that.”
“Yes, I know,” she said quickly. “You misunderstand me. I’m not criticizing your investigation. Far from it. You did exactly what I asked you to do, and you did it very well. But now...something else has come up.”
His features relaxed a little. “Go on.”
She moistened her lips, suddenly nervous. What if he thought she was completely off her rocker? What if he refused to help her? Naomi didn’t know who else to turn to. “Aubree DeWitt’s body was found on the exact same day my daughter Sadie was kidnapped. I’m not convinced the timing was a coincidence.”
Donnelly stood abruptly and came around the desk to perch on the edge, gazing down at her. His eyes were very blue and very intense behind his glasses. “Let me get this straight. You think Aubree DeWitt’s murder and Sadie’s disappearance are somehow connected?”
Naomi stared down at her hands. “I don’t know, but I think it’s possible that everything is connected, and it all began that night fifteen years ago when my baby was swapped for Aubree DeWitt’s. Supposing that five years later, she somehow found out that she hadn’t given birth to Taryn. Supposing she confronted the person who arranged the swap. Supposing she threatened to expose this person. Kidnapping is a federal offense. Faced with a serious prison sentence, he could have panicked and killed Aubree.”
“You’ve given this a great deal of thought, I see.”
Naomi nodded. “I think about little else. But I still can’t figure out where Sadie’s kidnapping fits in.”
“Can’t you?”
Something in his voice made the hair at the back of Naomi’s neck stand on end.
Donnelly stood abruptly and went around to sit behind his desk again, as if he needed to put some distance between them. He folded his hands on the desk very deliberately as his gaze met hers. “If all that you say is true, if Aubree was killed because she threatened to expose the truth about Taryn’s birth, then the killer would have known there was another person who could have revealed the truth as well. Not because of what she knew, but because of how she looked. Taryn’s identical twin.”
A cold, dark dread seeped into Naomi’s soul. Ever since the remains had been found in Grover County, she’d been trying to brace herself for the inevitable. Sadie was dead. She wasn’t ever coming back. But this scenario as to why she might have been taken filled Naomi with grief. My baby, she wept silently. My poor Sadie.
“This is only speculation,” Donnelly said gently. He shoved a box of tissues toward Naomi, and she plucked one. “Aubree DeWitt’s murder may have had absolutely nothing to do with your daughter’s disappearance. Or even the incident at the hospital fifteen years ago. The motive for her murder might well have been nothing more unusual than robbery, as the police suspected.”
“I understand that.” Naomi took a moment to dab at her eyes and regain her composure. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it is connected. If I find out who killed Aubree DeWitt, I’ll also know who swapped my baby for hers fifteen years ago. And maybe even who took Sadie and why.” Tears threatened again, and she drew a ragged breath. “I want to hire you to find out the truth, Mr. Donnelly. I want you to investigate Aubree DeWitt’s murder for me.”
“Miss Cross—”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she cut in. “That after ten years, the trail will be cold.”
Naomi leaned forward, her tone almost desperate. “That may be true, but you also know things the police didn’t know back then. You know that my baby was taken from the hospital fifteen years ago and given to Aubree as her own. You know that my other daughter was kidnapped from a school playground five years later, on the same day Aubree’s body was discovered. The police didn’t know any of that at the time, and if I went to them now, I’m not sure they’d even listen to me. Why would they want to open up a ten-year-old murder when they have a dozen new ones every day to solve?”
“You make a good point,” Donnelly conceded.
“Then you’ll help me? I’d be willing to keep you on the job for as long as my money holds out. Same agreement we had last time.”
He hesitated. “I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll make some phone calls, do some research, maybe try to get a look at the police file. If I think we’re on to something, I’ll call you and we’ll decide how to proceed from there. Fair enough?”
Naomi nodded in relief and rose. “Again, I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Donnelly.”
“I’m not certain I’m doing you any favors,” he said gruffly. “When I told you your daughter was in New Orleans, I never dreamed you would go down there and get yourself engaged to Alex DeWitt.”
Naomi smiled. “No. But you knew I’d do anything to be with her.”
“That was what worried me so much. I’m still concerned about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m going into this with my eyes wide-open. I’ll be fine.” She shook his hand, then turned to leave.
When she was at the door, he called her name, and she paused. “Yes?”
“Assuming Aubree was killed because she found out about Taryn’s birth, has it occurred to you yet that the person who would have benefited the most by keeping this secret from being revealed is the same person who profited most from Aubree’s death?”
Naomi shook her head. “You’re wrong about Alex. He didn’t kill his wife.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve seen him with Taryn,” Naomi said softly. “I know how much he loves her. No matter how he might have felt about Aubree, he would never have harmed his own child’s mother.”
The Forgiven Page 14