She folded her hands on his chest and rested her chin on them. “My dad wanted a boy. He made me promise I would have more than one child, too. He wanted three grandchildren.”
“I wish I could have met him, baby.”
“Me too.” She sighed.
Chad pulled her face to his and kissed her lightly, then pulled back to look at her. “What do you want, darlin’?”
“A boy,” she chirped. “I want a boy, then another boy, and then a little girl, so she’ll have two big brothers to take care of her.”
“You’ve thought this out, haven’t you?” he teased. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“So you want more children then?” she asked.
“Yes … and definitely a baby girl. I want a little girl I can spoil rotten since you won’t let me spoil you.”
“You do spoil me, Chad. I don’t need anything but what you’ve already given me — you.”
He rolled her over to her back then and proceeded to spoil her the best way he knew how. Her words had been wonderful. She wouldn’t let him buy her anything, but he could give her all of him.
He’d left for work exhilarated, ready to get the day over and see her and their unborn child. How could he have ever doubted her for a minute?
Cassandra whispered to him as she did yesterday morning. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and her fingers raked through his hair.
It had all been a nightmare.
He ran his hand up her arm, keeping his eyes closed. He didn’t want to wake up if this was a dream. His eyes filled under his lids. He wanted to see her, to know she was real, that she wasn’t a dream. But he couldn’t; the nightmare had been too vivid.
“I missed you, baby,” he whispered. “Please don’t ever leave me.”
“I’ll never leave you, Chad.”
His eyes popped open as he jumped out of bed. “Michelle?” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw the news, Chad. I wanted to be here for you. Tom let me in.”
“I don’t want you here!”
“But she’s gone … she left you. Don’t you see, Chad, I’ll never leave you.”
Chad walked over to the chair and pulled on his jeans. Embarrassed at once that he was in his boxers, in a bedroom alone, with Michelle, and he’d thought that she was Cassandra. “Honestly, Michelle, I don’t understand why you can’t get this through your head. I don’t love you; I don’t want you. I only want my wife. Why can’t you see that it’s over between us?”
She sat up straighter in the bed and looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m pregnant, Chad. Right after I came back and you refused to take me back … I was stupid, and now I don’t know what to do. I was hoping you’d take me back.”
He huffed. “My wife is gone for four days, and you think — you think you can just crawl in my bed and beg me to take you back? No, Michelle, that will never happen again. Why don’t you go after the father?”
Michelle stood up and walked around the bed, directly up to his face. “I don’t want anyone else, Chad. I want you. I won’t give up. I’ll be here.”
Chad pushed her away and walked out the door with her on his heels. He crossed the hall and banged on Tom’s door.
“She left you, Chad,” Michelle grumbled behind him. “As I said she would.”
Chad whirled around. “She didn’t leave me. I don’t know if she drowned, or if she’s kidnapped, but she didn’t leave me!” Why wouldn’t anyone believe him? She didn’t leave him. Nothing would convince him otherwise.
He banged on the door again. “Tom … please … I need to go home!”
Brandy opened the door, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She must have been taking the time to get dressed.
“Tom already left to work on your case. I’ll take you home, Chad,” Brandy said, eyeing Michelle. She obviously hadn’t been the one who let Michelle into the apartment.
Scooping up her purse and keys, Brandy hot footed her way out the front door without a word to either of them. Chad followed Brandy, content to be moving away from Michelle. But he could hear her boots on the concrete behind him.
“Chad, wait …” she pleaded. “I’m sorry that she’s gone, but I want you to know I’m here for you.”
He jumped up in Brandy’s truck, then lowered the window. “I don’t want you here for me!” he shouted and put the window back up. “Drive!” he commanded.
Brandy pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of his house.
Chad let out the breath he’d been holding and sank back into the seat. “Will the madness ever end?”
Brandy looked at him solemnly. “No.”
“So … you’re moving in with Tom?” he asked.
“No, I just wanted to be there for him last night. He’s upset too, you know.”
“I know. It was nice what he did for me. Did you call him?”
Brandy released a long breath. “No. And he wasn’t too happy when I answered your phone. When he found out where I was and how long this has been going on, he was ticked.”
“I’ll bet. I wouldn’t have been happy either if it’d been me.”
She chuckled. “Yeah … guess not. He was madder about us going to his house to check up on him. He’s jealous of you, you know. He thinks that … you know … that maybe we’ve been …”
“Why would he think that?” He grimaced. “Why would he be jealous of me?”
“He says that the girls always wanted you.”
He shook his head. “That’s absurd. He’s dated a hundred more women than I have.”
“Yeah, he said that too, but he said they only dated him when they couldn’t get you. That you would dance with them, but then he would end up having to take them home.”
Chad sighed. “I don’t want any of them, Brandy,” he said. The conversation had gone astray. He didn’t want to think about stuff like that. “I want Cassandra. I miss her so much.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Chad. I wish there was something I could do.”
He just shook his head. “Just take me home. I’m not going to work today.”
“You’ll be okay alone, Chad?”
“Yes,” he said, sighing deeply. “I won’t give up hope again until they find her.”
Brandy sighed too.
The ride was quiet the rest of the way. Brandy obviously had nothing additional to say, and Chad didn’t feel like making conversation. Anything other than mourning for Cassandra felt wrong. He wouldn’t allow himself to be happy until he held her again. Until he knew she was safe.
When Brandy let him out on his driveway, he walked to the mailbox just to do something normal. He unlocked the box, pulled out the stack of mail from the last few days and then walked toward the house.
He tossed the stack on the counter and proceeded to make coffee, Cassandra’s coffee. The house was hers. She’d made it a home, whereas before she’d moved in, it had just been a house full of furniture. She’d brought love and warmth from the first evening she was here, just the smell of her perfume in the air, the dinner she’d cooked and had left for him, the coffee and breakfast the next morning.
He missed her so badly he ached inside. Tears sprung up unexpectedly again. How would he ever heal? How would he ever be able to live again? He longed to hold her, to feel her, to love her. And his baby … he’d been so close to becoming a father. She’d said he was going to be a daddy. The tears stung his eyes, and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.
He could feel her fingers that last morning tracing his chest … she’d been so excited; she’d wanted more children. They would have had a large family, something he’d wanted since he was a teenager. He’d grown up so fast and had never had a chance to enjoy his childhood. He’d caused his brother’s and his mother’s deaths, and now God was punishing him. He shook the thoughts from his head. He couldn’t think that way; he’d been forgiven of the past. He needed to believe and have faith that she’d be returned to him. Thinking like this would only cause
him to do something stupid as he’d almost done yesterday.
While he waited for the coffee to brew, he walked back over to the counter. He picked up the stack, sifting through the contents, stopping cold when he saw her handwriting. His heart pounded out an erratic rhythm, and his hands broke out in a sweat. It hadn’t been mailed; there was no return address or stamp, just his name scrawled across the envelope in her beautiful handwriting.
His heart protested, pounding out a vicious rhythm as he opened it, afraid what he might read. She was alive. But she’d left him. She’d actually left him. But at least she was alive, and for that, he could be grateful. He didn’t know what he did or how he could have loved her more, but above all else, Cassandra was alive. He pulled in a breath as he unfolded the letter.
He read the letter quickly. It ended with “Please don’t look for me.” He read it several times, trying to catch any hidden meaning. Something wasn’t right. “You can love more than one person and hold two hearts in one.” Her father had given her the heart … Chad was the other heart. She was letting him know.
“Oh, God, Cassandra, you’re alive, and you didn’t leave me.” He knew without a doubt that this was the truth. He hadn’t given her the necklace. She wouldn’t have left it other than to inform him that she’d been taken against her will.
Should he call the police? No … Tom first, his attorney, no more mistakes.
Chad called Tom. “She’s alive, and she didn’t leave me,” he blubbered into the phone. “She’s alive.” He read the letter to him.
“Chad … that sounds as if she left you, buddy. I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to believe that,” Tom said.
“No, don’t you see …” Chad reiterated the story to Tom again that he’d told him last night. He hadn’t told anyone but the cop about the necklace. “Don’t you see? Why would she have left the necklace? Why would she even put a letter in the mailbox to let me know now that she’s left me? She could have done it four days ago.”
“Maybe she wasn’t sure at first. Maybe she just wanted to disappear. Why would a kidnapper send you a letter if they weren’t demanding a ransom?”
“They wanted me to think she was gone … they probably put the letter in my box before the car was found. But because I have a lock on my mailbox, they couldn’t remove it once they dropped it in the slot. Don’t you see … they couldn’t get her to write a letter the first day … they probably drugged her, but then they made her write the letter so that I would think she left me and wouldn’t search for her.” He took a deep breath. He needed Tom to believe. “Two months, Tom. Two months, and she walked with over half a million dollars. Why would she leave before that time?” he asked, his words taking on an air of desperation.
“But why would someone take her? There’s been no ransom request.”
“I don’t know … there are countless stories of pregnant women being taken —”
“When they’re nine months pregnant …” Tom cut him off.
“Tom,” Chad groaned in frustration. “She didn’t leave me!”
“Okay.” Tom sighed, exasperated. “I’ll call Detective Bearns. He’ll probably want to retrieve the letter. Find something she wrote so they can verify her handwriting. I’ll be over in a while to meet them. Don’t talk to them without me. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” Chad let out a breath. “I have nothing to hide, though.”
***
Cassandra heard the familiar scraping noise but didn’t move. She was so weak from the days of getting sick.
She flicked on the light and looked over at the floor after a few seconds and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a transparent-orange prescription bottle with no label.
“Thank you, Lord,” she said on a shallow breath.
She crawled out of bed, careful not to jostle herself. For the last day and a half, even when she emptied her stomach completely, she continued to get sick. Only they were dry heaves, and they were worse. It couldn’t be healthy for the baby.
She picked up the bottle and took out the familiar pill. Popping it into her mouth, she followed up with a swig of water.
There was writing on the board, but she ignored it … she would wait before she ate or read anything. She needed the pill to stay down.
Within an hour of taking the pill, she felt better.
She drank a little more water and then nibbled on the sandwich. At least her perpetrator was feeding her. But the menu didn’t vary much. Scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, some type of meat, rice, and vegetable for dinner, and then there was always a sandwich and fruit for her lunch, which was left on the breakfast tray. If she had to eat one more PB&J, though, she thought she’d puke anyway.
Cassandra picked up the writing tablet.
They found your car
Your husband attempted suicide
But don’t worry, he’ll get your letter today and realize you only left him
Tears sprang to Cassandra’s eyes. Why was this happening? Would Chad really have tried to kill himself?
Cassandra scribbled words on the board.
What do you want?
There was no reply.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Detective Bearns had little to say about the letter. He just gathered it up as evidence. Chad had memorized the letter and wrote it down, exactly as she’d written it before he’d handed it over. He read it over and over and could only come to the same conclusion.
There was no body, no checking account withdraws or credit card charges, and more than anything, he knew she loved him.
But the days turned into weeks with no leads. Every day that passed, Chad fell deeper into depression. For the first month, Michelle showed up at the ROCK every day as he finished work. He’d wanted to do as Cassandra had originally said and get a restraining order, but she hadn’t threatened him physically, so there really wasn’t much he could do.
He could ban her from the business. He had the right to refuse service to anyone he chose. But again, he would be playing into her hand, letting her see she was affecting him. After a month, she simply stopped showing up. Good, maybe she decided to locate the father of her child and ruin his life instead of harassing him.
Brandy walked into the office without knocking. “Chad, we’re going out tonight, would you like to come?”
“No,” he answered bluntly.
“Chad, it’s been two months. You have to do something besides work and sleep. You look horrible.”
“How do you think Cassandra feels, Brandy? Do you think she’s hanging out somewhere?”
“No … I don’t know … Maybe.”
He glared at her, brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that … maybe you’re wrong, Chad. Maybe she did leave. Did you really even know her?”
“Yes, I did, and I refuse to believe it.”
“Everyone else believes it, Chad.”
“I don’t care what everyone believes!” he roared.
Brandy took a step back. “You see, Chad. If she’s gone, she wouldn’t want this. She would want you to go on living.”
“You mean if she’s dead? If she was … then maybe I could, Brandy.” He dropped his head. “But not knowing … I don’t know how I’ll ever move on without knowing the truth.”
“Come with us, Chad, please. Just for a little while.”
Chad buried his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do. It’d been two months, but he couldn’t give up. He had to believe. He didn’t want to go, but maybe Brandy was right. Maybe he needed to put on a show. Show everyone that he hadn’t gone over the deep end, so they’d leave him alone.
The club was packed, and the minute he walked through the doors, he knew he’d made a mistake.
He followed Brandy to a booth that Tom was already occupying. When he stepped around the front of the booth, he saw that someone was sitting on the opposite side. “Hello, Michelle,” he said civilly. He noticed the well-formed bump in front of her; she must b
e as far along as Cassandra would have been — is … he corrected himself.
How was that possible? She’d been professing her love, begging him to come back and then went out the next day and had slept with someone else — she would never change. He sighed inwardly. Why was he even thinking this? He didn’t care if she ever changed. He felt nothing inside for her, and he never would again. Cassandra had cured him of that completely. He now knew what love was and knew that he could never find it again, nor did he want to love again. It hurt too much.
“Hi, Chaddy,” she said, sliding over in the booth, allowing him to sit. He cringed at the ridiculous name but didn’t bother to comment. She wasn’t worth his breath.
Against his better judgment, he sat down, then glowered at Brandy across the table.
“I didn’t know,” she mouthed.
He turned to look at Tom. “Why am I here, Tom?”
“Chad,” Tom pleaded. “We’re worried about you … all of us.”
Chad leaned back in the booth and stared out at the crowded club. There was no sense in arguing. They didn’t understand. None of them understood love. He would never forsake Cassandra; he would be here for her always. Until death, he thought. And he had no way to know that she was dead. Until that day, maybe even after, he’d hold out hope.
The evening wore on. He refused to dance, no matter how much Michelle or Brandy pleaded. He just couldn’t do anything that resembled pleasure. It wasn’t right.
Several times when Michelle got to talking about the past, she’d rest her hand on his arm. He’d politely remove it after a few seconds. One time she even wrapped her arms around his shoulder and hugged him. She’d done it in a comical gesture with no warning, but still, it caused him great discomfort. He didn’t want to be here; he didn’t want to be anywhere.
Chad pulled out his phone and checked the time. “I have to go.”
“It’s Saturday night, Chad. There’s no rush … what’s there to go home to?” Tom asked.
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