Mistletoe and Mayhem (24 page)

Madeline’s smile was somewhat fragile as she greeted her husband. He clasped her to him, burying his face on her shoulder. His voice, choked with emotion, brought fresh tears to Cecily’s eyes. “How could this have happened? What in God’s name have we done to deserve this horrible torture?”

Madeline patted her husband’s head. “Hush, dear, try to calm down. I know this is worrying but I’m sure that everything will be all right in the end.”

Kevin raised his head, his words raw with his pain. “How can you say that? How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I do.”

He drew away from her. “No, you don’t. All your devilish visions are not going to return our baby to us. Can’t you understand? She’s in the hands of a vicious killer.”

Madeline flinched, then said softly, “No, I don’t believe that.”

Kevin turned away and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “She’s in shock. May I ask for brandy to be brought up here? She needs something to stimulate her brain.”

“Of course.” Trembling, Cecily reached for the bellpull. She gave it three tugs and let it go. “Madeline, come and sit down by the fire.”

“Thank you, Cecily, but I’m quite all right here.”

Cecily exchanged a worried glance with Kevin. “Do you think perhaps it’s better to let her go on believing that everything will be all right?”

Kevin shook his head. “It will only make the pain so much worse when she learns the truth. We must force her to accept what is happening, so she can be prepared.”

Madeline turned, her voice sharp. “Please don’t speak about me as if I am not here. I know you, Kevin, do not believe in my powers, but Cecily, I should have thought you would know better. I am dreadfully concerned about my daughter. Of course I am. But I do not believe that whoever has taken her means her harm. Quite the opposite. So let us all calm down and wait for events to unfold.”

Jolted, Cecily stared at her. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.”

“Do you know where she is?”

Kevin made a guttural sound of disbelief, and Madeline sent him a wary glance. “No, not at present. I only know she is safe.”

It was true, Madeline had an uncanny ability to sense certain events and situations, but in this case, Cecily found it difficult to share her friend’s faith in Angelina’s welfare. She felt more attuned to Kevin’s skepticism, and could quite understand his impatience with his wife.

She was about to comment when the door flew open and Baxter strode in. “I’ve got every footman searching the entire building,” he announced. “If that baby is anywhere on the premises we will find her.”

Madeline merely nodded and turned back to stare out the window.

Baxter inclined his head toward her and raised his eyebrows at Cecily.

Recognizing her husband’s signals, Cecily nodded to assure him Madeline was fine. “Thank you, dear. I’ve sent Samuel out with his dog, and Gertie went to ask Clive to search the grounds as well.”

“Then we have the Pennyfoot covered. I’ll notify the constabulary and they can start a search in the village.”

He sounded tired, as if he’d already given up. Cecily held out her hand to him, but Madeline spun around, saying, “There’s no need to contact the constable. Angelina will be found close by.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Madeline.” Kevin bounded over to her. “We need everyone available out searching for her.”

“No, we don’t.” She faced her husband, defiance flashing in her dark eyes. “I would never risk my daughter’s life if for one moment I thought she was in real danger. Trust me, Kevin. Just this once, have a little faith in my powers.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you aware of something that you’re keeping to yourself?”

“Of course not.” She turned away from him. “All I can tell you is that Angelina is somewhere close by and she’s safe. I shall be as relieved as you are when she is found.”

Kevin turned his back on his wife, shaking his head in defeat.

Baxter cleared his throat. “Ah, perhaps I should wait to call the constabulary?”

“Suit yourself.” Kevin strode to the door. “I’ll be searching the grounds if anyone needs me.” He flung open the door and disappeared.

Baxter patted Cecily’s outstretched hand. “I’d better go along and help him.” He turned to go, then paused. “Oh, by the way, that photographer chap came by with the photographs from the banquet. I left them in your office.”

Cecily nodded absently, her thoughts still with the missing baby. “Thank you, dear.”

Just as he reached the door someone rapped on it from outside. Baxter stood back to let the maid pass then rushed out into the hallway.

For a moment Cecily had forgotten why she’d sent for the maid, but then Madeline spoke, coming forward to sit next to her. “I don’t need brandy,” she said, sounding less confident than she had earlier. “I just need my baby back.”

Cecily studied her friend’s face, then nodded at the maid. “Have Pansy and Gertie returned yet?”

“No, m’m.” The maid looked worried. “They’re both missing.”

Cecily’s stomach lurched, and she made an effort to calm herself. Expecting the worst would not help matters. “They are probably helping in the search. Tell Mrs. Chubb to serve the midday meal as best she can. I’m sure Pansy and Gertie will be back shortly.”

“Yes, m’m.” The young girl curtsied and quietly left the room.

Cecily looked at Madeline. “They’re all right, aren’t they?”

Madeline looked down at her hands. “I don’t have any signals that tell me otherwise.”

Not exactly comforted by that, Cecily had to accept the fact that she could do nothing but wait… and pray.

“Where is she going?” Pansy was panting so hard she could barely get the words out. As it was, her voice was carried away by the wind, drowned by the rustling branches. Ahead of her, Samuel was following Tess, but now all Pansy could see of the dog was a flash of white at the tip of her tail as she disappeared in the brush.

Afraid of being left behind, Pansy lifted the hem of her skirt and plunged into the prickly shrubs and grasping weeds. The wind tugged at her cap, and strands of her hair blew across her eyes. She swiped at her face, then yelped as a greedy bramble grabbed her hand and carved a deep scratch across her knuckles.

Samuel must have heard, as he paused and looked back. “What’s the matter? Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she shouted back. “I’m just trying to keep up with you.”

His “Sorry!” floated back to her on the wind, and thankful to see him waiting for her, she lifted her skirts higher and leapt over a clump of blackberry vines.

Samuel held out his hand as she approached. “Come on. Tess has gone in here somewhere.”

She looked around, but could see nothing but solid, gnarled tree trunks, low-hanging branches, and undergrowth thick with ferns, thistles, and scratchy brambles. “Is she lost?”

Samuel took hold of her hand and led her into the damp shadows of the woods. It smelled of decaying leaves and wet earth. She felt cold and frightened, trying not to imagine the lifeless body of that little baby.

What would she do if they found the baby lying dead on the ground? Faint, that’s what she’d do. Samuel would have to bring the baby back. She couldn’t touch the baby, not if her life depended on it. She felt sick at the thought, and hastily directed her mind to think of the ocean and the sands, and summer walks along the beach.

Samuel whistled, the shrill sound making her jump. An answering bark made her nerves tighten. Tess sounded urgent. Could she have found something?

“Tess?” Samuel quickened his pace, moving toward the direction of the dog’s barking.

Stumbling after him, Pansy prayed as she’d never prayed before. Head down, she bumped into Samuel as he stopped short, holding up his hand.

“Shhsh! Wait a minute.”

It took all her courage to peek around him. She caught her breath when she saw Tess, a few yards ahead of them, digging frantically in the soft earth, dirt flying from her paws.

Pansy gasped and clutched Samuel’s coat. “You don’t think it’s…” She gulped, unable to say the words.

Samuel stretched his hand out behind him and found hers. “Let’s hope not.”

Tess paused to snuffle in the ground, then started digging again, spraying clods of earth in the air. Samuel started to creep forward, but Pansy tugged her hand loose, unable to move from the spot.

Samuel had covered about half the distance when Tess suddenly stopped digging and backed away, tail wagging and a proud look on her face. He hurried over to her, while Pansy clutched her stomach and prayed she wouldn’t be sick.

Samuel paused, looking down at the hole Tess had dug. Then he squatted, reaching down with his hand.

Pansy moaned and shut her eyes.

She heard Samuel’s voice, and he sounded relieved. “Look, it’s all right. It’s only a bone.”

She forced her eyelids up just a bit and saw Samuel still squatting by the hole, holding up a very dirty bone. “She must have buried it here some time ago,” Samuel said, getting to his feet. “It’s amazing what dogs can remember.”

Feeling weak in the knees, Pansy stumbled toward him. “Thank goodness it wasn’t the baby,” she said, when she reached him.

“Yeah.” Sam threw the bone to Tess, who sniffed it, then promptly walked away. “But now we have to go on looking for her.”

Pansy grabbed his hand for comfort. “Let’s just hope we find her alive.”

Samuel nodded. “God willing, we will.”

“I’m coming with you.” Gertie jutted out her chin and stared up at Clive. “Just try and stop me.”

Clive’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I’ve got no intention of trying to stop you from doing anything. I know my limitations.”

Gertie wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she rather liked the way he said it. “Well, all right then. Let’s go and look for that baby.”

Without another word, Clive turned and strode off across the lawns toward the woods.

Following behind the big man, Gertie had trouble keeping up. She was not exactly dainty herself. In fact, she was taller and bigger than most other women she came across, but the man charging across the grass ahead of her managed to make her feel strangely weak and fragile.

It was not a familiar feeling for Gertie, and she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. She was used to taking care of herself. And her twins, come to that. Her first marriage had turned out not to be a marriage at all, since Ian was already married-something he hadn’t bothered to tell her until his real wife had spilled the beans.

Her second marriage was cut short by Ross’s death, leaving her alone again. Everything that had happened to her in her life had given her the stamina and fortitude to get through anything, and she was proud of that. Much as she loved Dan, she knew that if she had to, she could manage quite well without him.

Yet whenever she was with Clive, she felt like surrendering all that stamina and control, and just letting herself be protected and guided by him. He was a quiet man, never said much, but she could feel the power of him, that hidden strength that made her want to lean on him and trust that he would make things right for her.

Her thoughts startled her. She could never think of Clive that way. Not like her and Dan. Yet she had to admit, whenever she was with Clive, she felt an inner peace, as if she could stop trying to be in charge of the world and just allow him to take over.

He had reached the edge of the woods, and stood waiting for her to catch up to him. “I don’t know where to start looking,” he said, as they started walking down the trail side by side. “I can’t imagine anyone bringing a baby in here, unless he intended to harm her.”

“Don’t say that.” Gertie shivered, and pulled her shawl tight about her shoulders. “Madam wanted us to search the grounds, and we’ve looked everywhere else. The woods is the last place to look.”

“What I don’t understand, is why take a baby at all.” Clive shoved a low-hanging branch out of her way, holding it until she was safely past it. “I mean, he’s already killed four people. Why would he want to kill a tiny baby? It doesn’t make sense.”

“None of it makes sense.” Gertie lifted her skirt to step over a fallen tree. “Why kill all those people, anyway? We thought it was the Mayfair Murderer. After all, he was going around killing people all over the place, but Mrs. Chubb said she heard he’d been caught. So it can’t be him.”

“This doesn’t look like the work of a serial killer.” Clive paused to help her down a steep slope. “They usually pick victims that all look alike in some way.”

“That’s what I thought.” Gertie hesitated, then put her hand in his. His fingers felt warm and really strong. Unsettled by the contact, she skipped down the slope and pulled her hand free. “So why is this lunatic killing men and women who look nothing alike and have nothing in common?”

“That’s something we’ll only find out when he’s caught.” Clive halted and held up his hand. “Listen. Can you hear what I hear?”