Finding Emma (12 page)

“Which picture will they use?” Megan glanced at the picture in Peter's hand before she looked back at the detective. When he nodded, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“So, why the need for the other pictures?” Peter cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out and sank down in it. His shoulders sank beneath the heavy weight they shouldered.

“Just in case,” Megan said as she reached across and took hold of Peter's hand. She squeezed and waited for Peter to look at her before she voiced the question that hung in the air.

“Is my daughter still alive?” Megan turned her head to look at Riley. He shook his head.

“There have been no sightings in over a year. We haven't given up hope, and we won't stop looking for her, but at this point, there's not much we can do. We'll continue to update her age-enhanced sketch and make sure her picture is out there. But until someone comes forward with information, our hands are tied.”

“So you think she's dead then. Is that what you're saying? You've given up?”

Detective Riley tidied up some papers in the folder in front of him.

“I'm sorry. My hands are tied.”

*****

The front door closed with a thud. Peter rose from the table, stomped to his study and slammed the door behind him. Megan sat stunned, not only by her outburst, but by Peter's reaction.

She grabbed her coffee and rose from the table. The sketches of her daughter lay on the table. She wanted to hide two of the sketches. Wanted to ignore them, pretend they didn't exist, but she couldn't do that. What she could do though, was put them away so the girls wouldn't find them.

She knocked on the study door and turned the knob. Peter stood at the window, staring out into the street. She crossed the room and opened a drawer in the filing cabinet that stood against the wall. She flipped through the files until she found the one she wanted. Pictures. She dropped the sketches of Emma in there. The drawer was full of folders, all regarding Emma's kidnapping. Articles in the paper, statistics about kidnapped children, letters from strangers who were praying. Until she found her daughter, she would keep these items.

Peter looked different to her. As if something was missing, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Maybe it was the grey in his hair, of the slant in his shoulders. Maybe it was the added lines on his face, or the frown that showed up more often than not. Whatever it was, she didn't like it.

She stood at the window, beside him and looked out onto their street. Their neighbor across the road was outside working in her garden. Her youngest, only three years old, chased after a butterfly. A soft smile settled on Peter's face as he watched the little boy toddle around his yard, his arms waving in the air. Megan touched the sleeve of Peter's shirt, tentative, but he jerked his arm out of her reach.

“You promised me.”

“I know.” Megan bowed her head and studied the carpet at her feet.

“So now what?”

Megan raised her head. There was a harsh tone to his voice she didn't expect.

“What do you mean, so now what?”

Peter turned his head and stared at her. The cold fury in his eyes made her stomach flip until it was in knots.

“Did anything happen before I interrupted you?”

“Are you kidding me?” Megan gasped. She turned and looked out the window. Her jaw clenched while she dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand.

He grabbed her arm, his fingers dug into her skin. “You think I'm being unreasonable?” He spat into her face.

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. “Yes!”

“So explain this.” Peter swept his hand up and down Megan's body.

She looked down. The dress. The dang dress. She closed her eyes, counted to five in her head, with slow precision before she was calm enough to speak to him. She rubbed her arm where he grabbed her. When she looked back at him, he'd taken a step back and crossed his arms.

“You think I dressed up for him? Seriously, Peter! Give me more credit than that will you. This,” Megan grabbed the hem of her dress and held it out, “was for you, you stupid fool. I thought I'd surprise you at your office and see if you wanted to do lunch. Surprise!” Megan threw her hands in the air before she turned and paced across the room.

“I can’t believe you would think otherwise.” Megan shook her head, her body rigid with tension.

Peter shook his head and headed to his desk. He sat down in his chair with a loud sigh and leaned back.

“What else am I supposed to think, Meg? I come home to find that man in my house with you. Alone. In that dress I bought you. A dress you’ve never worn until today.” He crossed his arms and his head fell back. “Why didn't you call me, or tell him it wasn't a good time? How do you think I felt when I come home and see his car in my driveway?”

Megan grabbed hold to the back of the leather chair that sat in front of Peter's desk.

“Oh I don't know, trust your wife maybe? That might be a good idea.” Even when she knew he shouldn't.

Peter leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. “I never said I didn't trust you.”

“Really? 'Cause it sure sounded like it.” Her knuckles tightened on the chair.

Peter shook his head. “You're not listening to me, Meg.”

Megan turned away from him. She'd listened to enough.

Once her hand gripped the door handle, she turned.

“No, I heard you. I broke another promise. One that you needed me to keep in order for your little world to remain on its axis. Sorry to burst your bubble, Peter, but life isn't fair. The sketches you saw of Emma today should prove that to you.” Megan yanked the door open.

“I don't know how much more I can take, Megan.”

Already in the hall, Megan half-turned back to the door. She heard the defeat in his voice. But there was nothing she could do about it. He expected more from her than she had to give.

“You don’t know how much you can take? Get real, Peter. I’m not the only one here who’s wrecked our marriage. It takes two, remember?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A bowl of fish crackers spilled
all over her. Sherri sighed. She just finished vacuuming early this morning. Are you kidding me? David, the culprit with the angel smile on his face, swung his scrawny little legs over the edge of the couch as he stared at her.

“Are you going to clean that up?”

David shrugged his shoulders. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. Oh, no you don’t. Sherri tapped her foot and glared at him.

David a four year old angel, according to his mother, stuck his tongue out. At her.

She closed her eyes, counted to ten and crouched before him.

“You know, David. I had to have a talk with your Mommy about the fight between you and Travis, remember? Do you remember what we said would happen if you continue to ignore the house rules?”

He bit his lip. “Mommy won't take me to the baseball game.”

Sherri picked up a fish off the floor. “Are you going to let a couple of spilled crackers take that away from you?”

He shook his head.

“So how about you help me clean this up, okay?”

Sherri fought hard to keep a grin off her face. He'd been talking about this baseball game non-stop all week.

David jumped off the couch and crawled around on the floor picking up the loose fish crackers. Sherri grabbed a few and pretended they were going to nibble on his arm. Amidst David's squeals, the doorbell rang.

Tonya and Sarah both rushed into the living room. Sarah's arms were flailing in the air at the noise while Tonya tried to grab hold of her. Tears streamed down Sarah's cheeks before she clamped her hands over both ears.

Sherri rushed over to the door and jerked it open. She’d forgotten to place the sign on the door to not ring the doorbell.

She expected to see the daycare procedure advisor on the other side of her screen. Not her elderly neighbors.

The screaming stopped. But a shouting melee occurred instead. Sherri wasn’t sure which deafening noise she preferred. She turned her head and her jaw dropped. Travis, the little stinker, had decided to crush the fish crackers David played with on the carpet. Tonya, bless her heart, had her arms wrapped around Sarah who shouted “My friend! My friend!”

Sherri knew her face beamed bright red. “I'm so sorry about this. Please, come in.”

Emmie tiptoed into the room, her eyes wide with wonder at the symphony of noise that filled the house. The grandparents were a bit more hesitant. Her grandfather placed his hand on his wife’s back and murmured something she couldn't hear.

Sherri almost apologized again for the noise, but stopped as Dorothy took a step towards her.

“Is now a good time?” The older woman scanned the room. Her lips pursed when she noticed the fight happening between Travis and David.

Great. Just great.

“Absolutely,” Sherri lied. “Don't worry about this,” she motioned to the kids, “I was about to send them outside.”

“Why don't we join you?”

Sherri twisted to look at Emma's grandfather. If there was ever a man who embodied the look of a grandpa, it was this man. She couldn't help but smile. A wide grin covered his wrinkled face, a pink glow reflected off of his bald head and his coveralls conveyed a relaxed attitude.

She reached out and grabbed his extended hand. She laughed as her hand disappeared inside of his and he shook it. Her arm rattled with the up/down motion.

“I'm Jack, Emmie's Grandpa, and you’ve of course met my wife, Dottie.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack. I'm Sherri. Welcome to my zoo.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed a tease of a smile on Dottie's face. She wanted this woman to like her.

“My friend!” Sarah struggled to escape the confines of her sisters’ arms.

Emmie ran over to her. Sarah grabbed Emmie in a bear hug and squeezed until they were both red in the face. The girls laughed together. Sherri loved how quickly Sarah was able to make friends. The girls, hand in hand, skipped out of the living room. Tonya followed after them.

Sherri's attention turned towards David and Travis. By now, they were locked in an arm wrestle match on the coffee table. Jack had moved from the doorway and stood in front of the boys. When the boys realized they were being watched, they both looked up in unison, their mouths gaped open as they took in the big bear of a man. Travis slowly rose and wiped the crumbs off his legs before he stuck his thumb in his mouth. Sherri shook her head. David stuck his hand out and waited for Jack to take it.

“Wanna have an arm wrestle?”

Sherri bit her lip but couldn't keep the smile off her face. Only David, with his scrawny arms, would suggest an arm wrestle with a man three times his size.

“Real men don't wrestle in garbage, son.”

Sherri could have hugged him right then and there. Instead, she placed her hand on the side of Dottie's arm.

“It's a beautiful day. I made some fresh sun-kissed iced tea. Shall we take it outside?”

Dottie wouldn't budge. Her frozen face carried a lopsided smile while she would look only at her husband. Her arm moved under Sherri's until there was a hair width space between them.

“Well now, that sounds like an offer too good to refuse.” A jovial smile settled across Jack’s face as he took Dottie's hand in his.

Sherri led them out through the kitchen to the sliding doors that led to their patio. She made sure they were settled in the wicker chairs before she hurried back indoors to fetch the iced tea and glasses. She felt the glass container. It was cold. Thank you Jesus.

She poured them all a glass while an awkward silence settled between them. Dottie kept her gaze focused on Emmie, who pumped her legs with vigor beside Sarah whose legs dangled on the swings. Coordination never came easy to Sarah on the swing.

A little girl ran up to Sherri with a bouquet of weeds fisted in her one hand.

“Is that your daughter?” Dottie's attention finally left Emmie.

Sherri smiled as she took the flowers from her daughter's hand. Her long, golden straight hair hung down to her waist, while her baby blue eyes sparkled.

“Yes, it is.” She touched her daughter's jaw with one finger and tilted it up so she looked into her eyes.

“Marie, these are Emmie's grandparents. Can you say hi, please?”

Marie's tiny fingers moved in a quick motion before she grabbed hold of the bottom of her summer dress and curtsied. Her eyes twinkled with merriment before she skipped away to join the girls at the swings. First Sarah jumped off her swing, followed by Emmie. Sherri held her breath, but soon realized it was a silly thing to do. Both Emmie and Sarah grabbed onto Marie's outstretched hands. It wasn't until she watched the three girls skip together towards a hill covered in dandelions did she look at her guests.

Dottie's brow furrowed as she frowned, but Jack's face looked like it had melted.

“Your daughter is deaf?”

She smiled. Out of the two, she figured he would be the one to ask.

“Partially. She was born premature and has a seventy percent hearing loss. She can read lips and hear certain sounds, but for the most part, unless she's really comfortable with people, she'll use sign language.”

“She seems happy.” Dottie's face gentled at Sherri's words.

“She is. She's my little bundle of joy. I think she and Emmie could be good friends.”

Dottie's lips pursed. Jack placed his hand on Dottie's arm before he turned towards Sherri.

“Emmie having a playmate would be good for her. Thanks.” Dottie's hands fisted together at his words.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, Sherri struggled to make small talk with her neighbors. She knew Dottie felt uncomfortable. The way her back remained straight as a rod in the chair, how she took tiny sips from the glass and would rarely look her in the eye despite Sherri’s repeated attempts to draw her into the conversation. Dottie’s focus was on her granddaughter.

Jack on the other hand was a pure gentleman. He asked about the daycare she ran out of the house and the children. He even asked after her husband. His eyes brightened when she mentioned where Matt worked. Men and their toys, or trucks for that matter.

“I think we need to leave now.” Dottie bolted out of her chair.

“Emmie,” she called out, her voice tight.

“Now Dottie,” Jack pushed himself up out of the chair. “We just --”

“No Jack, I want to go. Thank you for the iced tea, Sherri. Sorry that we popped over uninvited.”

Dottie marched across the lawn towards the girls. Emmie ran to Dottie who then grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the house. Sherri wanted to say something, but the look on Jack's face stopped her.

“Thanks for the iced tea. We'll have you over next time to taste some of Dottie's home baked cookies.” Jack shrugged his shoulders as he watched his wife storm back to him. She didn't even look at Sherri as she headed to the walkway at the side of Sherri's house. Jack nodded at her but then followed his wife.

Sherri sank down in her chair, befuddled at what just happened. So much for the woman liking her.