“Mom?” Mickey said.
“Yes, honey?”
“You’re going to find him. I know you will.”
Cam searched Mickey’s face. “Thank you, Mouse. That means a lot to me.”
“You know how I know that?”
Cam shook her head, curious to find out what her daughter would say. When Mickey got serious like this, she’d learned to pay attention.
“Because you understand what people care about. How they fit together.” Mickey glanced around. She appeared to be checking to see who was in the room. When she looked to be satisfied, she turned back to Cam. “Like Gram.”
That last seemed like it didn’t fit in with the rest of the thought. “How do you mean?”
“Well, Katie from school? Her parents are divorced too, and she complains about how she can’t see her daddy’s parents anymore. But we see Gram all the time.”
“Well, that’s because she loves you so much.”
Mickey shook her head. “Oh, I know she loves us, but that’s not why. It’s ‘cause you could see how much she wanted to see us and how afraid she was that you wouldn’t let her. And then you made sure and took us there. Lots.”
Cam had never seen it that way before, but as Mickey said the words, she recognized them as being true. Yes, Iris had been a huge help to her over the years, but it hadn’t always been convenient… or comfortable, for that matter… to get the kids over there.
Mickey’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “Oh, and Mom? Gram loves you, too.”
Without even being aware of the fact she was doing it, Cam nodded her head. She knew that. Again, it wasn’t always an easy affection, but Iris did genuinely care for her. Love her. Maybe even in spite of herself at times.
Something about that idea… that love wasn’t always convenient… sparked something in Cam’s head. It added to Mickey’s comment about Cam being able to see how relationships were put together. The confrontation back at the Young’s home had bothered her on a deep level. It didn’t fit.
No one was acting the way they should.
An idea blossomed, and Cam gave her daughter a quick, hard squeeze while she crammed another bite of pizza into her mouth. This had been a perfect side trip.
But now it was time to get back to work.
* * *
The phone woke Harper up from sleep. She’d fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television. Again. It was the third time this week, but she blamed Game of Thrones. And Netflix, damn their hides.
Thing was, it wasn’t even all that late. She glanced at the clock. 7:30 pm. Sad.
Although this time, she was not proud to admit to herself, her binging on TV had taken a back seat to her binging on Ben & Jerry’s. Her head ached and there was a foul taste in her mouth.
When you started downing ice cream at three o’clock in the afternoon, you knew there was a problem somewhere.
The ringing continued, piercing a hole in her skull. Might as well answer the damn thing. She picked up the receiver and noticed the number on the caller ID.
Cam.
Well, at least that explained it. Although, for once, Harper was going to give her friend and partner… well, possibly ex-partner… a piece of her mind regarding the early hour of the call.
But as soon as Harper hit the TALK button, Cam started speaking. Several sentences flew past before she even realized what was happening. By that point, she was hopelessly lost.
“Hold on. Slow down. What are you talking about?” Harper was mildly surprised to hear her voice come out sounding like the mating call of the African bullfrog. Not pretty. Not pretty at all.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“No, no, not at all,” Harper croaked. Wouldn’t do to have Cam thinking she normally engaged in sugar-crash-induced naps in the middle of the afternoon. “Besides, I thought you weren’t talking to me or something.”
There was a pause and a sigh on the other end of the line. “Yeah. Sorry about that. How soon can you meet me at the Young’s?”
“Are you crazy? They practically ran us out on a rail. They aren’t going to let us back in.”
Cam grunted. “I think they just might.”
Minutes later, Harper was trying to brush out her hair at the same time she swished Listerine around in her mouth. It wasn’t until she spat that she realized that not only was her headache mostly gone, but that she was excited to get back to working with her partner.
Pathetic.
Only a few hours of being pissed off at each other, and already Harper missed her friend. What did that say about her and her social life?
Oh, well. At least they were back to working together.
* * *
“We know what’s going on here,” Cam said to Emma and Jarom from across the coffee table in the living room. She had managed to talk her way in past this evening’s gatekeeper, Rachel, who had apparently tagged out with Bethany at some point during the afternoon. Just one more piece of evidence that pointed to the conclusion that Cam had come up with.
Jarom and Emma looked at each other and then back to Cam. “We don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Emma said.
“See, that’s it. Right there,” Cam murmured. “You don’t act like a wife cowed by her strong alpha-male patriarch of a husband.”
Emma looked for a moment like she was offended. “But he is the patriarch.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Cam said. “He’s the patriarch. But tell me, who does the finances? Whose decision carries the most weight? Who makes most of the day-to-day decisions around here?”
Jarom gave a wry half-smile and shuffled his feet. “Her. Almost all her.”
Cam nodded. “That’s what kept tripping me up. You two look and act like super Christians. Evangelicals. But you’re not, are you?”
Again the two shared a look. “We believe in Jesus Christ,” Jarom said, pointing to the painting on the wall. “See?”
“Oh, I know. I noticed that when I walked in. I’m a believer, too. Mostly.” Cam said the last word under her breath. That was the problem when you believe, but you were just pissed off with your God. You had no idea how to talk to anyone else about religion.
“So, you understand that we just want--” Emma began.
“To be left alone?” Cam said, cutting her off. “I certainly do. But there’s more.”
“What?” Jarom asked.
“You didn’t cheat on your wife, did you?” Harper interjected.
Once again, the two shared a look. Cam continued with her theory.
“See, neither one of you reacted the way you should’ve earlier when my partner accused Jarom of cheating,” she said, watching the couple to gauge their reaction.
“How exactly is someone supposed to react to that news?” Emma replied, her tone caustic.
“You should have been shocked and angry.”
“I was.”
“No.” Cam shook her head. “You were shocked, yes. But not angry. And you, Jarom, you should’ve gotten defensive.”
“Well, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong,” he said, thrusting his chin out.
“Sure. Maybe. But even there, you would have been reassuring your wife that you hadn’t. Instead, you both had the exact same response.”
“And what was that?” he asked, the set of his jaw increasing.
“Fear. You were both terrified. Of what?”
Rachel moved forward from where she had been listening over on the side of the room.
“Why in the world would you ask them that question?”
“And why in the world would you be the one to step in and try to protect Emma and Jarom from it?” Harper asked, pinning the woman with her gaze.
“There’s the other part of it,” Cam said, pointing to Rachel. “Her. And Bethany. What’s the relationship here? I’ll tell you what I think.”
Everyone in the room was silent, and all eyes were on Cam except for her partner’s. She gentled her tone.
“I
think that we should be free to love whomever we love. And that there shouldn’t be any laws against that.”
Emma blinked. “What… I don’t… What are you saying?”
Cam decided to take a different tack. “I really like that picture of Jesus you have up there. He seems strong but kind and gentle. I have a hard time thinking of him that way, but I want to.”
The three exchanged a look. Cam was pretty sure they knew where she was going with this. Harper, of course, had heard it all before they went into the house.
“I’ve seen that picture before,” Cam said. “When a couple of Mormon missionaries came knocking on my door.”
Rachel held up her hand. “We’re not Mormon.”
“I know you’re not. Mormons don’t allow people like you in their church. Not anymore.”
“People like us…?” Emma said, her voice trailing off.
Cam let the silence sit for a moment before she spoke again. Even though she was near positive she was right, it was still a tough thing to say to someone.
“Polygamists.”
Emma, Jarom and Rachel sat there, their mouths hanging open. Cam could only imagine what they were feeling. Constantly concerned about getting caught, never able to open up or confide in anyone but their own family.
And it was about to get even more uncomfortable for them. Because Cam had done something that had been necessary, but that could have put the Young’s… all three households, unless there were more that Cam hadn’t met… at risk.
“The detectives are on their way over here right now.”
Jarom’s expression sharpened. “You mean they’ve gotten a warrant?”
“No,” Cam said, and took a breath. “They’re coming because I called them.”
“You…?” Emma began, then trailed off, apparently unwilling to ask the question. Cam answered it regardless.
“I told them my suspicions about you and your family.”
Rachel stood and crossed the intervening space in two strides. She reared back and slapped Cam full across the face.
Cam’s world went supernova on her for a moment, spangles dancing in front of her eyes. Considering the supposed breach of trust, she understood the response, although she was pretty sure she was going to feel and see the results of that slap tomorrow.
She held up her hands, both to ask for some room to speak and to ward off any more unexpected blows. “Before I spoke to the lead detective, I made her promise that she’d only go after leads that related to the kidnapping.”
“And you trusted her?” Rachel demanded, still standing above Cam, her face a black thundercloud.
“Yes,” she replied. “I did. To be honest, when I told her, she said she never understood why it was illegal to have more than one wife, but not to have a wife and mistresses. Seems that one of her favorite shows right now is Sister Wives.”
“That show,” Emma said, her mouth twisted in a dark smile. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”
“No one’s coming after you for your… lifestyle,” Cam reiterated. “All they want to do is help you find your baby.”
The tension in the room dissipated, and Rachel dropped her aggressive stance. It seemed the three were taking their first breaths since Cam and Harper got there.
“I’m sorry about the slap,” she said, in an apologetic tone.
Cam nodded. To be blunt, it had been impressive. She wouldn’t have thought the young woman would have it in her.
These women clearly knew how to take care of themselves.
* * *
For Harper, sometimes it was about the little things in life.
Watching Detective Stickler deal with Cam being in the house was turning out to be pretty entertaining. The two facing off with one another was kind of like watching an unstoppable force confronting an immoveable object. Having come head to head with Cam’s stubbornness more than once, Harper had no idea how this was going to shake out.
As for Harper herself, she’d been largely ignored. The CSI unit had asked her where the baby slept, but once they realized she had no clue as to the layout of the house, the conversation had ceased.
“I’m going to say once more that I think having civilians here while--” Stickler began, speaking with Emma.
The polygamist cut her off. “I feel far more comfortable with her being here. As well as her partner.” Emma gave a nod to Harper, making her feel like less of a third wheel. Nice of her.
“Fine,” she said, her mouth set in a hard line. “Is there somewhere that we can ask you a few questions?”
Emma motioned to the chairs and couch there in the living room. Once Stickler and her partner, whose name Harper had never caught, sat down, there wasn’t enough room left for Harper and Cam, so they were relegated to lurking about in the background.
Harper wouldn’t have sworn to it, but it looked like Stickler was a touch pleased at that development. She leaned in to speak to Emma.
“The statistics on familial abductions are overwhelming,” she began. “We wouldn’t be doing our jobs if we didn’t start there.”
“We understand,” Emma replied and turned around to look at Cam. “Ms. Holdon explained that to us right from the beginning.”
Harper squelched the desire to correct her. It was she who had first brought that subject up. Granted, it had been in relation to her husband being the kidnapper, but still…
Stickler shot a look at Cam that Harper couldn’t quite make out. Irritation, perhaps, but it also seemed to have a touch of grudging respect. Or it could have just been the lighting.
“Good,” she said. “Our desire isn’t to make your lives miserable. We just want to find your son.”
“What can we do to help?” Jarom asked.
“To start off with, I’m going to need everyone’s timelines for the last week. Where you were, what you were doing, who you were with.”
“Everyone’s?” Rachel asked.
“I’m afraid so. Each of you… women… is a potential suspect, as well as you, Mr. Young.”
“I’m not a suspect, am I?” Emma said, surprise covering her face.
“Yes, even you. With the… living arrangements of your family, we need to make sure that there’s no reason for any of you to have taken the child. Is there any other family close?”
They all shook their heads in unison. “No,” Emma answered. “Our families all live back in southern Utah. Except for Bethany’s. They’re up in Idaho.”
“And are they all aware of…” Stickler made a gesture that included the three of them and their house.
“Our living arrangements?” Jarom asked, his tone bitter. “Yes. They’re all of our faith.”
Detective Stickler motioned for her partner to hand her something. The milquetoast woman handed over several photographs.
“There are other motives for abductions, of course,” Sticker said. “And we want to make sure that we’re not leaving any stone unturned. Do you recognize any of these people?” She spread the pictures on the coffee table.
Emma leaned in, scanning the faces laid out in front of her. Her gaze landed on one of them.
“Him. I recognize him,” she said, pointing to one of the photos.
“Do you know where from?”
“The park. We belong to a Christian home-schooling co-op, and we schedule playtime for our kids there. I’ve seen him several times.” She glanced up at the detective. “Why? Who is he?”
Stickler shared a look with her partner, then turned back to Emma with some reluctance. “These are photographs of known sex offenders in the surrounding area.”
Emma’s hand flew up to her mouth, and Rachel gave an audible gasp. Jarom half stood, then settled back into his seat on the couch, visibly troubled.
“You think he might have something to do with…?”
“It’s another avenue for us to pursue,” she replied with tact. “We have an even narrower window of time here than we usually do. It’s important we explore all options.”
Emm
a got up and began pacing about the room.
“Did this man ever approach your children?”
“No,” Emma said, still moving. “I just thought he was a dad or an uncle of one of the kids there at the park. He always just sat on the bench off to the side.”
Rachel opened her mouth, hesitated, then spoke. “I think I might have seen him walking around here, closer to the house.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“No, but it could have been. I remember thinking that he wasn’t dressed for exercising.”
At that point, one of the CSI team entered the room. “Detective, we found signs of tampering on the window. We dusted for prints and found a bunch on the sill.”
“We need to get prints from each of you to compare against them,” Stickler said to the family. “Then we’re going to head back to check the fingerprints against the database. If they’re a match for that suspect, we’ll get a warrant.”
Jarom stood, nodding, and crossed over to where Emma was still moving about the room. He took her in his arms and held her, looking back at the detectives. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his tone was husky.
“Anything you need from us, we’ll give you.”
Stickler and her partner stood, leaving the photos on the coffee table. “Don’t stray too far from here, and make sure you keep your phone line as open as possible.”
They walked out the front door, and, judging by the looks on their faces, took the family’s hope with them.
* * *
Something was not sitting well with Cam. The detectives had a solid lead they were following up on, and Cam was almost positive that the kidnapping had nothing to do with any of the family members.
But there was a nagging feeling that this had nothing to do with either. That the family secret of polygamy still had kernels of truth left to offer them.
She moved into the living room, Harper right at her heels. “Mr. and Mrs.… and Mrs. Young.”
“Please,” Emma said through her tears. “I think we’ve moved past that.”
“All right, Emma, then. Do you mind if we talk through a few more things?”
2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series Collection Page 37