Read A Daughter's Story Online
Authors: Tara Taylor Quinn
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
D
INNER
WAS
GOOD
. The company was good. Too good. Once they’d
finished their meal and cleared away the dishes, they relocated to the living
room, ostensibly to choose a movie from Emma’s extensive collection of DVDs to
entertain them until bedtime.
Thinking he’d let her do the honors, Chris settled onto one end
of the couch, and realized he wasn’t quite finished with the last topic they’d
been discussing. “You light up when you talk about your students,” he said.
Emma sank onto the other end of the couch. “Really?” she said,
a strange smile on her face. “I mean, I know that the classroom is where I need
to be. I love teaching.”
“And the girl you were talking about. The one whose uncle you
don’t trust. Does she ever call you like she says she will?”
“She hasn’t, but I haven’t seen any evidence that her uncle’s
actually done anything, either. His temper scares her. He throws things. But so
far he hasn’t hurt her. Still, she’s a sensible girl and if she’s afraid,
there’s probably cause. I’ve reported my concerns to the guidance counselor and
principal at the school, and they’ve spoken with her mother. From there I can
only hope and pray that she’ll call me if anything happens.”
“I don’t think there were teachers like you when I was a
kid.”
“I’m sure there were. You probably just didn’t ignite their
protective instincts being the strong, self-sufficient guy you are.”
He shifted, crossing his ankle over his knee.
“Yeah, well, from what I remember there were books to read,
lectures, homework and tests. Period.”
“Do you think you’d have stayed in school if you hadn’t been
bored?”
He hadn’t said he’d been bored. “Maybe. Didn’t make much sense
to me to waste days sitting inside when I could be out making money.”
“And your father agreed with you?”
“No. It was one of the few times he was truly disappointed in
me. He threatened to keep me off the boat, but I gambled on the fact that I knew
him better than that and quit, anyway. There wasn’t anything he could do about
it. I was sixteen.”
“How long did he keep you off the boat?”
How did she know he’d gambled and lost? “Six months.”
“And how old were you when you regretted your choice?”
“What are you, psychic?”
“Nooo. But I’m paid to be observant.”
He quirked a smile at her. “I was twenty-three. And before you
tell me what I did next…I got my GED followed by a Bachelor of Science degree
with a major in business in night school. It took me nearly ten years.”
Her eyes wide, she gaped at him. “You’re kidding!”
“What, you didn’t think a fisherman could be
university-educated?”
“No, I guess I just didn’t expect it. I mean, it’s not like
college was going to make you any better at what you do.”
“It did, though. I doubled my income the first couple of years
out of school through better management and record keeping. And by selling
directly to the consumer. I met Don Carmine, the owner of Citadel’s, when I was
in school. He had this idea to open up a restaurant and have me supply his fresh
lobster.”
“Cody told me about that.”
He nodded, and then said, “I was engaged once, too.”
Her shock was palpable. “You were? I thought you were a
confirmed bachelor!” She sounded almost accusing. Or hurt. As though he’d lied
to her.
“So there’s something about me you don’t know. Sara is part of
the reason I’m a confirmed bachelor,” he said. “We met in high school. Growing
up with a philandering mother, and a father who worked sixteen hours a day every
day, I was a pretty serious kid. Sara made me laugh.”
“You asked her to marry you because she made you laugh?”
“No. I asked her to marry me because she was my best friend.
She still is a good friend—until you, she was my only real friend.”
“Is she here in town?” Emma sounded interested. And something
else, too. Something different.
But he knew better than to think that she could be jealous. It
wasn’t Emma’s way. And they had no future together.
Shaking his head, he told her about Sara’s husband, Jeff, their
daughter, Lily, and their home in South Carolina.
“Sara broke off our engagement after a pregnancy scare,” he
told her, making certain—just in case it had been jealousy he’d detected—that
Emma knew without a doubt they could not have a future together. “I was
horrified when she told me she was afraid she was pregnant. I was twenty-two. I
didn’t handle the situation very well. But the truth is, I feel the same way
today as I did back then. The thought of having a child, of the responsibility
that comes with it, the time and commitment kids take, does not sit well with
me. I think of my childhood, of the times my father wasn’t there, and I think
how like him I am and…”
“It’s okay, Chris. Don’t worry so much.”
The words—spoken for the umpteenth time—didn’t ease his tension
any.
“You got any other broken hearts out there?” she asked, her
voice light. And her smile—her smile made him hungry all over again.
Which made him cantankerous. He had to stop this.
“Did you start your period today?”
“No.”
“Aren’t you getting the least bit worried about that?”
She met his gaze openly. “Not really.”
His mother had been able to lie to him while looking him
straight in the eye.
“How can you not be? You had unprotected sex and we know you
have higher than normal levels of HCG in your system.”
“I’m not late enough to worry,” she said. “If it wasn’t for
your fears, I probably wouldn’t even have called the doctor.”
Her attitude was frustrating. Their whole lives were at stake
and she wanted him not to worry?
“I’ve heard of women being in their fourth month of pregnancy
without knowing they were pregnant. It’s not like you get a memo sent up through
your bloodstream.”
“If I went four months without a period, I’d know.”
Nothing she said calmed the panic growing inside him.
Chris felt a lot older than her all of a sudden.
“You were violently ill today. Even with the patch.”
“I was seasick.”
She’d pegged him right—intuited things that he hadn’t told her
about himself—but even people who were perceptive couldn’t see themselves in an
unbiased light.
And Emma wasn’t giving him any indication that she was seeing
this situation with any clarity at all.
“You had one of the worst cases of seasickness I’ve seen. It
could have been a combination sickness.”
Emma stood. “Look, Chris, if you want to drive yourself crazy
worrying, then there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But I’m not going to join
you. I have plenty of real things to worry about right now.”
“You know, don’t you? You know whether or not you’re
pregnant.”
“I told you all along that I don’t think I am.”
“Then let’s go get another test. Take it tonight.”
“We had a deal. I’m going for a blood test as soon as my doctor
returns. There’s no point in taking another home test. It’s likely that the
result will be the same. I haven’t started my period so my HCG levels will still
be high.”
Was she evading the truth? Burying her head in the sand because
she was afraid? As if hiding from it could change the facts.
He’d learned the art from his mother; women with something to
hide were evasive.
“You wouldn’t do something crazy like plan to have my child
without letting me know about it, would you?”
She whirled on him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I don’t think you’re being honest with me. I’m just trying to
figure out why. By your own admission, your mother wouldn’t be able to handle
you dating a man from the docks so I’m doubly sure she’d have a problem with you
being pregnant by one of us. It would be a repeat of her mistake, right? And, by
your own admission, you do everything you can to keep your mother free from
worry.”
Shaking her head, Emma sighed and turned her back on him.
“I’m tired,” she said, heading toward the stairs. “The bed in
the spare room is made up. Please turn out the lights before you come up.”
He could go after her. He didn’t have much doubt that they
would wind up having sex again.
“Emma?”
She paused on the third stair and looked at him over her
shoulder. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.”
“I have no proof that I’m pregnant, Chris. Or that I’m not. But
I’m not getting worked up about it until I know. If I haven’t been able to get
in with my doctor by Tuesday, I’ll take the home test again, just for you.”
Fair enough. And damn him for doubting her. But who wouldn’t,
given the circumstances? Were the situation reversed he’d have taken the damned
test several times a day.
But that was him. She was the one who was possibly
pregnant.
“Did you lock the dead bolts?” He’d noticed the night before
that all of her doors had dead-bolt locks that had to be locked and unlocked
with a key, even from the inside.
She’d carried the key up to bed with her.
“Yes.”
Which meant that if he suddenly needed a beer from the store,
or a walk to clear his mind, he’d have to go into her bedroom to retrieve the
key.
And if he did that, he’d never make it out.
* * *
R
OB
CALLED
AGAIN
late that night. Emma
pushed the end button after the first half ring.
And less than a minute later, a nude and far-too tempting Chris
appeared in her bedroom doorway.
“Don’t you ever wear clothes to bed?” she asked.
“No.” He was frowning. “Who called?”
“Rob.”
“Did he leave a message?”
Just as he finished the question her phone signaled a new voice
mail. “Right here,” she said, holding up the phone.
With no apparent self-consciousness, Chris came into the room
and over to where Emma had been sitting up in bed with her journal.
“Let’s hear it,” he said.
Feeling far too vulnerable with her shoulders exposed and her
breasts practically visible beneath the thin cotton of her nightgown, Emma
concentrated on the keypad on her phone. She pushed the voice-mail button and,
when prompted, typed in her pass code.
“Hi, babe. Call me, please. Don’t make me beg.”
Just Rob. No threat. No aggressiveness.
“He’s working on you. Trying to wear you down.”
“He’s not going to wear me down.” She was too busy fighting
Chris, and herself, to start thinking about the five years she’d spent with Rob
or wondering if this sting operation was unfair to him.
He’d refused to cooperate when Miller and Hayes had called that
first time after Cal’s visit—when he’d had nothing at stake, and once she’d
heard that, any influence Rob might have had on her was gone.
The Rob she’d known would have been happy to cooperate if it
meant something he said might help them find Claire.
Still, she worried that she’d jumped on this sting operation as
a way to legitimately spend a little more time with Chris before she said
goodbye to him.
“You told Miller that he only calls once a day.” Chris was
still standing beside her bed. She could smell the musky scent of his
aftershave.
“That’s right, he did. Until today.”
He shifted. Her gaze dropped to the dark hair on his thighs.
“How many times has he called today?”
“This is the third time.”
“When was the second?”
“Right after I came upstairs tonight.”
“Did he leave a message that time?”
She wasn’t reacting. “No, which is probably why he called back
so soon.”
“I don’t like leaving you in here alone.”
She didn’t like being in there alone, either. And not because
of any threat Rob might pose.
God help her, she was going to be a bad girl one more time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
C
HRIS
DIDN
’
T
LIKE
GOING
out on the water on Monday. For the first time in his life, he wished he could
stay ashore.
The fact made him quake. Whatever had gotten into him had best
get right back out. He was no knight in shining armor. Not for anyone.
Certainly not for a woman. They weren’t to be trusted.
Standing aboard the
Son Catcher,
he
froze on deck.
Women weren’t to be trusted? Where in the hell had that thought
come from? He’d trust Sara with his life. He trusted Marta. He trusted Emma
Sanderson, too. But she was messing with his thoughts and that couldn’t be
tolerated.
Miller had said that in order to spur Rob into action they had
to behave normally.
Emma was going to work today where there were security guards
on the premises. And Miller’s off-duty guys would be watching her—both of whom
were more qualified to protect her than Chris was.
It wasn’t his job.
Fishing was his job.
Squelching his urge to hunt down Rob Evert himself, Chris
readied his bait, checked the boat to make certain there’d been no gas leaks or
other mishaps overnight and set off to spend the day with the love of his
life.
* * *
R
OB
CALLED
E
MMA
on her way to work. And
again halfway through first period. She always kept her phone on Mute during
class, but she saw the call register on the screen. Ignoring the phone, she
focused instead on her kids.
He’d called four times by lunch. And because she knew he knew
she was in class, because he knew she couldn’t answer, but was calling, anyway,
Emma decided to listen to the messages he’d left.
All of them were exactly the same.
“Call me, babe. I need to speak with you.”
The same words spoken with the same intonation. Every single
time. It was weird. Unsettling. Was Rob losing his mind?
Or deliberately playing with hers?
Looking over her shoulder as she walked through a hallway
swarming with teenagers on their way to class or to second lunch period, she
wished she could speak with Chris. Let him know what was going on. She wanted to
hear his voice.
But Chris was unavailable. He was out on the ocean,
inaccessible.
As he would always be—no matter what the emergency.
Forgoing lunch, Emma slipped into her principal’s empty office
and dialed Detective Miller.
“Did you save the messages?” His no-nonsense tone didn’t make
her feel any more comforted.
“Yes.”
“Forward them to me, as soon as we hang up.”
Students were milling about in the foyer outside the office.
Things were normal. Safe. “Okay.”
“And don’t go anywhere alone.”
“I live alone.”
“You’ll be at work for several hours yet, correct?”
“Yeah. I’m done at four.”
“Don’t leave there until I get back to you.”
“You’re scaring me, Detective.”
“Good. Until we have a better understanding of what’s going on
with this guy, I want you scared. I want you alert and watching out for
yourself. I want to make certain you don’t underestimate this guy just because
you used to be in a relationship with him.”
“Point taken, Detective,” she said.
“You’ll be hearing from me.”
What she heard was a click in her ear as the man hung up.
* * *
A
LTHOUGH
SHE
WANTED
to
bury her cell phone in the bottom of her purse for the rest of the day and focus
on teaching, Emma kept the phone on her desk.
She saw the flash when Rob called during fifth period. And
again between sixth and seventh periods. She saw the notification that she had
two new voice mails.
And toward the end of her last period, she saw Lucy Hayes’s
number flash on her screen.
“Everyone take the last few minutes to get started on your
journal entry for the week,” she told her class. “Remember, this week, you’re
Abe Lincoln. Tell me what you’re thinking. I’ll be just outside the door, so
don’t get any wise ideas.” She never left her students in class alone. Ever.
“Ms. Sanderson?” Jamaal Wayley called out.
“Yes, Jamaal?” She faced the tall, starpoint guard on the
school’s basketball team who was an even better writer than he was an
athlete.
“We can write about anything, right? Doesn’t have to be about
politics or things that really happened while he was president?”
Which meant she might get an imagined trip to a strip club.
“Keep it clean, Jamaal. You know the rules. Nothing X-rated.
You have to be Honest Abe.”
He was baiting her. She knew it. And he knew she knew it. She
also knew his entry would be the best one she’d get that week. The kid had
talent.
By the time she made it to the hall, she’d missed Lucy’s call,
but luckily the detective picked right up when she called her back.
“Detective Miller said you were done at four,” Lucy said. “Are
you someplace you can talk?”
“Class actually ends at five after four.” Emma’s heart started
to pound. If they were calling her on the dot of four, then this was serious.
“I’ll have the classroom to myself in about fifteen minutes. Detective Miller
asked me to stay put until I heard from him.”
“I told him I’d call you,” Lucy said. “Fifteen minutes, you
said? I’ll sit right here by my phone until I hear back from you.”
Walking slowly back into her classroom, Emma barely noticed the
twenty-two restless teenagers who were shoving things into backpacks and
chattering to one another as the bell rang, setting them free.
She wanted them out of there. She wanted them safe.
She needed to talk to Chris.
* * *
“F
IRST
, R
AMSEY
SPOKE
with
your friend Chris. He agreed to continue with the relationship plan for another
day or two, at least,” Lucy said as soon as she picked up Emma’s ring. “He said
he’d meet you at your place at six, if that’s okay with you.”
Chris was back onshore, then? Accessible?
“That’s fine.” It wasn’t. At all. The good mood that had
suddenly settled on her was the final straw. She had to get Chris Talbot out of
her life. Her problems were not his. She wouldn’t have his life in danger. She
intended to tell him so just as soon as she saw him that evening.
“Until then, Ramsey wants you to keep up your daily routine as
much as possible without making yourself a target.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“Don’t go anywhere alone where you’re easily accessible.”
“The school’s going to be deserted, except for the nighttime
cleaning crew, in about an hour,” she said aloud. “I can go to my mother’s.
That’s something Rob would find completely normal.”
“Fine. Chris said he’d call you when he’s on his way over. The
two of you can arrange to meet at your place. In the meantime, Detective Miller
got the okay to keep our guys on you for another couple of days.”
“Seems like an awful lot of bother and expense because a guy
refuses to take no for an answer. This kind of stuff happens all the time, and
I’ve never heard of a woman getting police protection over it. The most I’ve
ever heard of is someone getting a restraining order.”
This case wasn’t that simple. She knew that. But…
“It’s understandable if you’re getting cold feet, Emma. You
have the right to end this at any time. We can pull Chris out of there,
too.”
“And then what?”
“Then we figure out another way to go at this. I have to be
honest with you, though. There’s something going on here and Detective Miller
feels—and I agree with him—that we’d be remiss to drop this.”
“Then I’m in. One hundred percent.” She paused. “How often is
Detective Miller right about his hunches?”
“Often enough that his captain pretty much gives him the green
light any time he has one.”
Fear had been her constant companion for twenty-five years.
Emma was beginning to doubt that she’d ever be free. She’d taken some crazy
chances lately and was more afraid than ever.
“Okay, tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”
“Just continue what you’re doing,” Lucy told her. “Go about
your business as normally as possible. And stay in touch with us. Based on the
escalating number of calls you’ve been receiving, we think the plan is working.
Evert’s getting more nervous. Chances are he’ll show his hand soon.”
“Maybe I should talk to him.”
“We may get to that, but Ramsey doesn’t think it’s time
yet.”
“Did you find a connection between Rob and my sister’s
case?”
“No. So far we’ve all come up blank. I’m not at liberty to
disclose exactly what we’re doing but if there was a connection we’d find
it.”
“And you still think Claire was in Aurora?”
“Her DNA was on a couple of items removed from the nursery in
that house. But it’s always possible that those items came from somewhere
else.”
She nodded.
“We might not ever know when or why. One thing is for sure,
we’re talking about DNA that was left there more than eight years ago because
the place was cordoned off as a crime scene, and then torn down after that.”
“Do you think she could still be in Aurora?”
“Anything’s possible, but not one other baby that passed
through that home stayed in Aurora. Very few were even in the state of Indiana
for any length of time. That was part of the reason the business ran so
successfully for so long. In most cases, the woman didn’t hold on to the
children for more than twenty-four hours. She had a prescreened database of
potential parents who were all willing and prepared to collect their new baby
with only a few hours’ notice. They were also only interested in newborns. None
of them wanted to deal with children who might have memories that could get them
caught, or who would miss the parents left behind.”
Emma understood. And struggled to accept what she was hearing.
“But she was there—or at least associated with someone else who was.”
“Our theory is that whoever took Claire knew about the Aurora
operation. As we’ve told you, the woman did business all over the East Coast and
Midwest. She had more than one Massachusetts baby. Claire’s kidnapper most
likely knew about the Aurora business and tried to sell her to this woman but
was turned down because of Claire’s age.”
And the detective had already evaded Emma’s earlier attempt to
find out what Lucy thought would have happened to Claire at that point.
“Let’s concentrate on what we’ve got,” Lucy said. “On finding
out what Rob wants and whether or not there’s a connection between him and the
missing evidence. There’s always a way in to the answers, Emma, we just have to
find it.”
“But what if the clues are buried so deep that they’ve been
lost forever?”
“We have patience. And we keep looking.”
“And sometimes you die before finding the answers, right?”
“There are unsolved cold cases in our vault that date back more
than seventy years.”
“Rob’s a perfectionist. If he makes a mistake, it won’t be an
obvious one.”
“No one’s infallible. We haven’t been able to link him to
Claire yet, but we did come up with something. Do you know someone named Cheryl
Diamond?”
“No. Why?”
“You’re sure? You’ve never heard the name? Seen it anywhere?
Heard it mentioned?”
“I’m sure. Who is she?”
“Someone who works as a clerk in the Comfort Cove traffic
division.”
“Would she have access to evidence rooms?”
“Not generally, but with a badge that lets her into the station
house, she’d have a better chance of getting into the evidence vault than
someone off the streets.”
“You think Rob knows her?”
“She hangs out in online chat rooms where men go to have
internet sex. We think Rob met her there. We have reason to believe that they’ve
been…familiar…for several years. I can’t say a lot, but there’s some webcam
evidence that our computer specialist uncovered. Ramsey’s talked to Cheryl, but
at this point she’s denying even knowing about the existence of the chat room.
Rob denies knowing her. We don’t have enough yet to bring either of them in. At
this point, you’re still our only real way to get your ex-fiancé.”
“Okay. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“It could get dangerous. You need to understand that.”
“I understand. I’ll do anything to help solve the mystery of my
sister’s disappearance. I don’t like involving Chris, though.”
“Ramsey was pretty straight with him. He gave him every chance
to duck out. The guy’s insisting on following this through.”
Because he thought she was pregnant with his child?
If she’d just start her damned period this could all end.
She’d called the doctor’s office again that morning. The
earliest she could get in was Wednesday. Which meant that tomorrow night she was
going to have to take another one of those damned home pregnancy tests. Which
would show the same elevated hormone levels because her stupid cycle was off,
and then Chris would really start to panic.
And what? Ask her to have an abortion?
Which, of course, she would never do.
Or, maybe he’d sign off on his paternity?
Which would be fine. Better for her and the baby.
If there even was a baby.
Which there wasn’t.
“I think Chris likes you,” Lucy was saying before Emma had
caught on to where the other woman was going with the conversation.
“We’re more than a decade apart in age.” The statement was
weak. “And complete opposites.”
“Opposites attract.”
Emma told the detective about her father. And Chris’s own
dedication to a life on the ocean.
“I’m sorry, Emma.” The sincerity in Lucy’s words almost broke
her. “I misunderstood. I thought maybe you and Chris were starting something. I
shouldn’t have pushed. Hopefully we’ll get through this quickly and you’ll be
able to move on and meet someone who will make you as happy as you deserve to
be.”