by Mary Brady
The sisters turned to see who had entered and turned back, barely acknowledging him.
“But, Richie, why can’t we start an Amber Alert now, right this minute?”
“There has to be evidence of a kidnapping before an Amber Alert can be sent out.”
“But why? Why is that?” Christina demanded.
“The system is designed to recover children who have been kidnapped and are in danger.”
“But that’s what might have happened here.”
“Too many alerts will dilute the system with false alarms and children will be, um— They might be lost.” Richie looked defeated.
The door burst open and Officer Lenny Gardner, dressed in regular clothes rather than his uniform, entered, went straight to the sisters and put an arm around Delainey.
“Where do you want us? So far there are seven of us volunteers.”
Richie responded, “We’ve alerted the Highway Patrol and they’ll be watching the interstate. Road blocks are being set up as we speak. Right now I need people down at the docks searching. We need more searchers.”
Delainey turned toward Lenny and when he put both arms around her, she put her cheek on his chest. A stab of pain hit Hunter that he was not the man she could turn to when her heart was breaking. Worse that he might be the cause of the pain he saw in her face.
“I’ll take the six outside and we’ll get to the docks now and work our way back up the hill from there.” Richie nodded and Officer Gardner departed with crisp steps.
Hunter stepped forward. “What about going to Braven’s for volunteers?”
“Good idea,” Richie said to Hunter matter-of-factly. “Would you go up there and get them to fan out on Church Street from there. Tell them every nook and cranny. It’s cold out there. Her coat is gone, so she has some protection, but she might have holed up in a small space for warmth.”
If she’s out there and not being carried away by a maniac was broadcasted in every word Richie did not say.
More men and women trickled into the house and were sent out promptly with assignments.
Hunter first went to Delainey, who was making sure everyone had her mobile number, and they headed for the door. A man stopped Hunter and handed him a canvas bag containing flashlights.
“Thanks.” Hunter tilted his head in question.
“Doyle, Officer Carl Doyle. Thanks for helping out.” He gave Hunter a gentle slap on the shoulder. “We’ll find Brianna. And the woman. Don’t worry.”
Hunter’s breath could be seen easily in the cold as he sprinted toward Braven’s Tavern. Officer Doyle knew his whole story. They all did. He didn’t care. There was so much at stake.
When he got to the large oak door of Braven’s, he was winded but he hardly felt it. When he burst in, all heads turned in his direction and folks smiled in welcome.
The population was pretty much the same as it was the last time he was here.
“Brianna Talbot is missing.” Everyone in the tavern now stared at him. A few murmured comments. “She was down at the Victorian houses with her aunt and now she’s not.”
A second later everyone was heading toward the wall of coats. Michael the bartender locked the cash register and joined them, collecting his coat.
Hunter quickly handed out the flashlights from the bag Officer Doyle had given him.
“The police want you to fan out on Church Street. He said to look in every place you think a child might crawl in for warmth. She has her coat, but she might be cold by now.”
“We’ll find her, son,” the short-whiskered man said as he pulled down the ear flaps on his hat, took a flashlight and headed out into the cold night.
Michael was the last. As he followed Hunter out the door, he pointed across the street at Pirate’s Roost. “It’s Friday night. There might be plenty of help in there.”
Michael flipped on the beam of the flashlight he’d taken from behind the bar and went behind the tavern to search any hiding places back there.
Two men and two women came hurrying up the street led by Gregory Miller from the variety story. They had flashlights of their own and when Hunter told them what was needed, they broke up and headed in different directions.
Across Church Street, he saw under the bench outside the Roost the brown dog who jogged with him some mornings. Too bad Brianna hadn’t decided to hide in there. She would at least be warm.
Hunter shivered not from cold but from the idea of Brianna being worse than out in the cold. Her round face, dark eyes and dark hair made him think of the portrait of his uncle. Dark hair and piercing dark eyes. They looked so much the same.
He was about to pull open the door of the Roost when it hit him that it was possible he was searching for his own daughter. He also realized he could not love a child more than he already loved this one. She was Delainey’s child and that bought her unreserved love on his part.
A hostess he didn’t recognize hurried up to him. “Mr. Morrison, it’s good—” She stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Brianna Talbot’s missing.”
She looked at him, confused. “She’s here.”
He swept the room and spotted Brianna in the far corner on the other side of a low wall, animatedly speaking to a woman in a red wig. The woman was staring at him, smiling her wicked smile.
Hunter started for her. The hostess grabbed his arm with both of her hands. “Hunter, wait.”
He turned on her, but she didn’t flinch; she just looked at him with kindness and determination.
He took a long, deep breath. “You would be Mia Parker. Your legend is spread far and wide.”
She gave a small laugh. A tall dark-haired man joined Mia and put an arm around her. “I am Mia and this is Daniel MacCarey. If you go rushing over there looking as terrified as you look right this minute, you’ll scare the child half to death.”
“You don’t understand. That woman is unstable and there’s no predicting what she’ll do.” He couldn’t keep the terror from his voice, but he knew Mia was right.
She nodded at Daniel and he walked casually in the direction of the woman and child, stopping at tables to greet guests but never wavering as he made his way to the far corner.
“Now, call Delainey and tell her you’ve found her daughter. The child will be all of our primary concern. That will give you time to compose yourself.”
He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jacket and made the call. Afterward he wasn’t sure how much the call had done for his composure, but Delainey had been beyond words with joy and gratitude.
“Does the child know you?” Mia asked.
He nodded. “We’ve met.”
“Take another couple of breaths, put a smile on your face as if only the child is sitting there and go get her, calmly.”
When he arrived at the table, Daniel nodded at him and he smiled down at the girl. “Brianna, I’m so glad I found you. Your mother is looking for you,” he said as he searched her for any sign of injury while he continued to smile.
He dared a glance at Callista, who only gave him a cool look and got up from her chair as if to leave.
Hunter must have made an involuntary move for her, because Daniel stepped between them.
“It’s okay—there are people out there that can deal with her.” MacCarey’s words were firm but sympathetic and Hunter relaxed.
He turned and this time the smile he gave to the child was sincere.
Brianna’s face brightened. “Hi, Mr. Morrison.”
Both Parker and MacCarey were right. He would only traumatize the child. He did not go after Callista as she swung her coat over her shoulders, sashayed out the back door and disappeared into the night.
“Hunter, I better go find my mom.” Brianna’s lip trembled and her gaze dropped to the floor.
&n
bsp; He squatted down and waited until she looked up at him. When she did, he searched her face for any family resemblance. He didn’t see any except the dark, dark eyes. “Are you all right?”
He wanted to grill her, ask her what Callista had told her, but there would be enough people questioning her. All she needed right now was his help.
“Yes, I’m all right.” She took her coat from the back of the chair. “I was only looking for my daddy.”
The words wrenched Hunter like no other words could have. Her daddy. Suddenly, ardently, he wanted to be that man, wanted to be, should have been, the father of Delainey’s child.
“I hope Mommy’s not mad at me.”
“She’ll be very, very happy to see you, Brianna.”
“I was going along the street and Mrs. Wenger said she’d take me up to see if the motorcycle man was still here.”
He must have looked confused, because she continued in an exasperated tone. “Mommy said I shouldn’t ask him if he knew my daddy, but how am I going to find my daddy if I don’t look for him?”
“Did you meet a motorcycle man here at Pirate’s Roost?”
One hand went to her hip. “When I had mac and cheese with Mrs. Wenger and Mom.”
He helped her with her coat, and afterward she reached up for his hand. Her small warm one in his big one felt like unconditional trust. All that did was break his heart more. What if she was his child? How would he walk away without her?
They weren’t more than half a block down Treacher Avenue when Delainey made it to them, arms reaching out, followed closely by Christina and several officers.
Delainey cried and hugged her daughter and everyone cheered and Delainey cried and hugged her daughter some more.
Shouts went out in all directions.
“We found her—come on back” seemed to echo as one searcher passed the message to the next.
Christina stood apart from her sister and niece until Delainey reached for her and swept her into a family hug with Brianna.
Delainey spoke not one word of rebuke to her daughter or her sister. She was a good person. She deserved all that was good to come into her life.
The crowd in the street grew, as did the cheering.
Hunter stayed where he was and watched Delainey’s village embrace her. No wonder she could not find a good enough reason to leave here. Not even him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HUNTER FADED INTO the background of the enthusiastic crowd. Delainey was in her element; she didn’t need him. Brianna was holding on to her mother’s neck as if she already knew she had done something that had nearly frightened her mother to death.
The farther away he stayed from them, the better off they would all be. If the child were his, no matter what he thought he needed, he would never part the two of them even for a day, let alone weeks or months.
On the steps of Pirate’s Roost Mia Parker and Daniel MacCarey waved the crowd up to the warmth of the restaurant. When they had all gone inside, he retrieved his car and headed for his place south of town.
His condo was cold and dark. Without turning on any lights, he relit the fire, poured two fingers of scotch, retrieved the quilt from his bed and took refuge on the couch.
The bed would be out of the question for a while.
The thought of seeing Delainey amid the rumpled sheets, sated, such a short while ago, only to see her soul nearly ripped from her, was a memory he’d relive over and over. Trying to sleep in the bed where they had made love would happen someday. This was not that day.
A year in Bailey’s Cove suddenly seemed like a long time. The problems at his law firm would be cleared up within a couple months. Maybe he could have Morrison and Morrison back on track by then, but that didn’t solve the need for a second attorney so Shamus could spend his time with Connie. Delainey was right. Finding a place keeper for her might be difficult, but a gun for hire would be out there and willing. Shamus didn’t have the money to hire such a person, but Hunter did.
He placed his empty glass on the shiny wooden-and-glass coffee table made of all curves and uneven dimensions. He’d purchased the art as furnishings from a starving artist at a charity auction. He hoped the guy was doing better than he was.
As he put his head back on the arm of the couch, his phone rang.
He recklessly thought if it was Delainey, he’d do anything she asked, but Chief Montcalm’s number appeared on the screen.
“Hello, Chief.”
“We have her. She says she’s here because you invited her.”
“Not true.”
“Just needed your confirmation. She won’t be causing you any more trouble.”
“Do you need me for anything?”
“Not tonight. Do you want to tell Ms. Talbot or do you want me to do it?”
“I think it’d be better if you did it, Chief, and thanks.”
“Get some rest,” Chief Montcalm said, and rang off.
Hunter thought of making love with Delainey only hours ago and how far apart the two of them had traveled since, and he knew he was in for more nights of no sleep and days of misgivings.
* * *
DELAINEY STOOD IN the doorway of her sleeping daughter’s room. The small but exquisite handmade mermaid doll of cloth and yarn from Chief Montcalm was tucked against her cheek. Mermaids were her second favorite after dinosaurs and this one had pink hair. The frilly pink bow was stuck to the headboard of her bed.
“It’s not your fault,” Delainey and Christina kept assuring each other while cake and ice cream eating was going on in the Talbots’ living room.
“I should have watched her closer.”
“I shouldn’t have brushed her off when I know how interested she is in her father.”
“I think you two should be laying the blame exactly where it belongs,” their father said when he came into the kitchen to put his plate in the sink after his third piece of cake. “Callista White had no right to keep quiet about where our little Bria was. Any sane human being would know we’d all be frantic.”
Edward Talbot’s daughters hugged him and each planted a kiss on his cheek. His contented laugh was nearly a “hohoho” as he went back into the living room to be with the little golden girl with dark eyes and nearly black curls.
As she and Christina headed back to the living room, Delainey’s phone rang again. The first time Brianna had been blowing out candles, and she had ignored it and then forgotten completely about it during present opening. She held her breath as she pulled the phone from her pocket. Would she answer if it was Hunter?
A moot point. It was Chief Montcalm.
After she hung up, she went into the living room. “Chief Montcalm just called.” She gave a thumbs-up to the adults and to Brianna she said, “He wanted to make sure I gave you your present.”
That Callista was being sent away from Bailey’s Cove to the county jail until her disposition was taken comforted Delainey greatly.
Delainey wanted to stand in the doorway guarding her daughter all night, but weariness suddenly flooded her and her knees nearly buckled. Reluctantly, she went to her own room.
Her pajamas were nice and warm and her bed was soft and comfy, but all she could see when she closed her eyes was Hunter’s face.
Hunter hadn’t come to the party. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to thank him before he disappeared.
She couldn’t help but rethink her plan to keep Brianna away from him. She needed as many strong and good male role models in her life as were available. With that thought she fell asleep.
* * *
BY THE END of the weekend, Delainey was convinced without a doubt she was the worst mother ever and Christina was the worst aunt. Whatever Brianna wanted she got, short of enough sweets to make her sick.
They had gone t
o Little Cove Park to see how the treasure hunting was going. Apparently, the map found in the old house on Harbor View Street indicated the treasure had been stored in caves. Part of the time the caves were filled or nearly filled with water, so the work was fast and sporadic.
All the intrepid treasure hunters had discovered so far were a few rusted artifacts that had been found and refound by teenagers over the years. They were of so little interest no one even bothered to take them from where they lay in the scrub grass at the edge of the park.
The cave had never been searched with so much enthusiasm or equipment in the past. If there were anything to be found in any of them, it would be found by this group.
Delainey, Christina and Brianna came away giggling and talking like pirates. Arrgh—of course, aye verily, shiver me timbers, ah-harr and their very favorite, dash me buttons. They all agreed they had no idea what it meant but it sounded fun. They stumbled back to the car whacking each other playfully with their mittens because they didn’t have swords.
Delainey was surprised to see several of Bailey’s Cove’s oldest folks had come out to see the progress. They stood in a clump in the parking lot drinking coffee from insulated mugs—at least, she assumed it was coffee. Arrgh, it could have been Irish whiskey, for all she knew.
After Little Cove Park, they stopped at the Bailey’s Cove Museum to view the old leather-wrapped item found in the house. Heather Loch had talked the finders of the treasure map into loaning it to the museum and in return, she’d preserve it properly. Indeed, it was now under glass and the three of them circled the display, oohing and aahing.
On Sunday they ate breakfast and dinner at Mandrel’s diner. No one mentioned Pirate’s Roost. It might be a few weeks before they’d be able to face their faults and go back there.
By eight o’clock Sunday night, they were all tired and happy. Brianna dropped off as soon as she’d come out of the tub and dried off.
Delainey wasn’t very far behind her. When she put her head on the pillow and Hunter’s face made its scheduled appearance, she was aware of the fact that not one waking hour had gone by the entire weekend that she had not thought of him.