Yesterday's Gone (Two Daughters Book 1) (10 page)

Her self-assessment gave him an uncomfortable jolt. “You’re triumphing over what he did to you,” he argued.

“Am I?” Her laugh broke. “I can’t make myself take a step inside my childhood bedroom. My head believes the Lawsons are my parents, but my heart—” she tapped her chest “—doesn’t. I don’t make close friends, I don’t have boyfriends. I’m getting a degree in psychology, but what am I going to do with it? Become a therapist, telling other people how to run their lives when I’m so obviously dysfunctional?”

Seth scowled at her. “Bailey, in my eyes you’ve made something remarkable of yourself, considering the terrified, damaged child you were when he left you. From the sound of it, you’ve done it all on your own. What I’m seeing is a woman who may be new to the idea of family, but has the compassion to be kind even when she’s feeling lost herself. That’s a woman who’d be one hell of a fine therapist for kids dealing with traumatic events and shattered families.”

She blinked a couple of times. “You’re mad.”

“Hell, yes, I’m mad.” Belatedly, he realized he’d flattened his hands on the countertop so he could lean in on her. He probably looked as combative as he felt. Damn, he hoped he wasn’t scaring her.

“Thank you,” she said, utterly confounding him. “What you said, that’s nice. Um... I suppose I do put myself down more than I should. Sometimes I’m proud of myself, but...”

When she hesitated, he finished. “But not as often as you should be.”

She tried to smile. “I guess.”

“What kind of grades are you getting?”

“Really good.” This smile was wider and remarkably sweet, not like the one she used as a form of self-defense, but it died too soon. “That doesn’t negate my point. I don’t know how to be...oh, a daughter, a sister, really even a friend.”

She didn’t bother listing
girlfriend
, he noticed. Or
lover
. A lurch in his chest reminded him she had good reason not to want a lover.

Blocking it out, he said, “I’ve set up an appointment for you with Special Agent Andrew Stuart of the FBI. Tomorrow afternoon at two-thirty.”

“Oh, joy,” she mumbled.

He cast his mind back. “What happened tonight? You sounded shaken.”

She cocked her head. “You mean, before people started peering in my window, spotlighting me with their flashlights?”

“Yeah.” He permitted himself a small grin. “Before that.”

Bailey made a face, then took a swallow of her cocoa. “Eve and I, well, sort of went at it.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“You don’t need to hear about that. I mean, considering.”

“Considering?” His temper rose to a simmer again. Presumably she was talking about his nonexistent relationship with Eve.

“You know what I mean. The thing is, Karen heard some stuff we said, and that upset
her
.” Emotions crossed Bailey’s face too quickly to all be identified. “We apologized—she insisted she understood, but of course I felt guilty, so after dinner instead of leaving while it was still light, I agreed to sit down and look at photo albums.”

“Ah.”

She traced the rim of her mug, her head bent. “It was...so bizarre.” Her voice was very soft. If he’d stood much farther away, he wouldn’t have been able to hear her. “Seeing myself. Pretty, and happy. Chubby cheeked.” Her shoulders hunched. “Karen was so delighted, and I kept thinking, that
looks
like me but how can it be when I don’t remember?” She looked up, so much hurt and perplexity in her eyes, Seth felt it like a blow.

He was a cop; he dealt every day with people who had just been injured or victimized, who were enraged, scared, sobbing, and he didn’t let himself feel what they felt. He couldn’t afford to. But he couldn’t seem to shut out this woman’s emotions. Although his chest felt bruised, he was shaken by the realization that he didn’t
want
to shut her out. For her, he’d bear almost anything.

Partly because much of what she felt was on him. Instead of appearing on scene after the fact, as was usual,
he
was the one who’d torn open the life she’d created, exposed her to the public eye, brought her home to face a forgotten past.

But that wasn’t the only reason why, and he knew it.

“Despite the grief she’s lived with, Karen is an optimist.” He managed to sound calmer than he felt. “She can’t let herself believe that you might never remember anything.”

Bailey nodded. “It would be like losing me all over again. I’m not sure knowing I’m alive is enough for her. You know? She needs me to be Hope.”

He wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands off her if not for the width of the counter separating them. Lucky thing. She’d accepted his comfort earlier, but he had a feeling that didn’t come naturally. No wonder.

“Maybe you’re both expecting too much, too soon,” he said gently.

“She is. Me...” Her mouth twisted. “I don’t have any expectations. When I came—” She shrugged. “I think I’d have been relieved if you’d said, sorry, you do look like Hope Lawson, but you can’t possibly be her.”

Watching her closely, he suggested, “And disappointed, too.”

One shoulder jerked. “Maybe.”

She wanted to be tough enough to shake off anything life threw at her, he diagnosed, but this homecoming had battered her defenses.

Before he could say anything, she continued. “Then we looked at Eve’s photo albums.” She raised her gaze to his. “The early pictures? I identified with them more than I did the ones of me. I
knew
that girl.”

“Damn, Bailey.”

“But then... I could see what their care did for her. She became beautiful and confident, because she felt loved. It was like—” She stopped, obviously unwilling to finish.

“She took up where that little girl Hope left off.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “It was like...a seesaw. I said that before, didn’t I? But it’s true. When I was up, she was down. I went down, she soared.”

“Except I heard Eve. She called you the
real
daughter.”

Creases formed on Bailey’s smooth forehead. “Yes. She said...more than that this evening. You know. When we, um...”

“Went at it.”

“Right.”

Seth frowned. “Bailey, what you saw in the photo album—in both photo albums—was partly truth, partly facade. The pictures of you don’t tell the whole story of your life before you were abducted. They represent the high points. I’m pretty sure you threw temper tantrums, were sometimes mad at your mommy or daddy, might have been a spoiled brat on occasion.”

She watched him, unblinking.

“And Eve. You’re right. The Lawsons helped her become a beautiful woman who is confident on the outside. But inside, you’d find the scared girl who didn’t think anybody would ever want her.”

“You’re right.” Her grimace turned into rolled eyes. “Just don’t make me say that too often.”

Protecting herself again. But he let her get away with it. He just smiled. “I’m frequently right, you know. I’d go so far as to say—”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Hey, when it’s the truth...” He spread his hands.

She laughed and shook her head, then gazed into her mug as if reading tea leaves at the bottom. When she looked up, the vulnerability that got to him was very apparent. “Here you came to my rescue again, and what do I do but dump on you. Speaking of therapists.”

“Bailey.” His voice came out rough. Whatever his face showed had her eyes widening. “I prodded you into talking. I want to hear anything you have to say. I deal with a lot of people on the job. I don’t bring them home to stay with me.”

Whoa
, he thought. Maybe that was more than he should have said. She looked stunned. Possibly alarmed.

“That’s...nice of you to say.” She sounded cautious. “But I think I’ve unloaded enough for one night. You don’t mind if I go to bed?”

“You don’t need permission.” He made an effort to keep it light. Too little, too late, he feared. “If you get up before me in the morning, help yourself to any food you find.”

“Okay.” She smiled tentatively. “Good night, Seth.”

He lifted his mug to her and stayed right where he was. “Sleep tight.”

Her mouth was curving as she turned away, making his heart feel light in his chest.

Left alone, he didn’t move for a long time.

* * *

H
AVING
BREAKFAST
WITH
a man was beyond weird. Bailey guessed there must have been times in foster homes when it was just her and the foster dad eating at the same time. She didn’t remember. Otherwise—she hadn’t so much as had a female roommate in aeons. When she went out on her own, she’d had to share a place, like it or not. Minimum wage didn’t go very far. Her first apartment, there’d been three of them crammed into a one-bedroom. She’d hated it. She’d had years of sharing bedrooms in foster homes. She’d have given anything for her very own room. As soon as she could manage, she lived alone. Which usually meant crummy neighborhoods and microsize studio apartments, but having her own space was really important to her.

Sharing the newspaper with Seth, him grunting his thanks when she handed him a bagel that had just popped up in the toaster, her murmuring her thanks when he poured her a second cup of coffee, felt both surreal and oddly comfortable. It helped that he apparently wasn’t a morning person any more than she was. He looked heavy-eyed and didn’t seem interested in talking. Or encouraging
her
to talk.

Maybe he’d had his fill last night.

But Bailey knew better.

I want to hear anything you have to say.

She would swear he’d meant it. She didn’t understand why, but believed unwillingly in his sincerity. Probably he thought of her as part of his job, which she was, in a way.

Not “in a way”—who was she kidding? He’d been all cop when he arrived tonight, not to mention when he came to her rescue at the pharmacy. Once he’d delivered her to the Lawsons and presented her to the world, she should have quit being his job, but, oh, oops, turned out she still needed help and he felt obligated. And then there was his hunt for her abductor.

Telling herself she was satisfied and even relieved by the explanation, she finished the front section and folded it neatly. Looking up, she found him watching her with those intense dark eyes.

“Do you have plans today?” he asked.

“I saw an ad for a discount mall in Skagit County. It’s not that far, right?”

Lines gathered on his forehead. “Right.”

Seeing that he was about to ask why the hell she needed to go shopping right now, she told him.

“I could use some different things to wear. I didn’t pack for a long stay.”

He jerked his head toward the door leading into the garage. “I have a washer and dryer. Feel free.”

“Thanks. But I think I could disguise myself a little. Not be so obvious,” she explained, and he nodded.

“They’ll be watching for your car, but just covering your hair would make you a little less conspicuous.”

She didn’t take offense. Her white-blond hair didn’t occur naturally very often. In kids, sure, but then it darkened. Hers never had.

“All right.” He sounded grudging.

“Ooh. I have permission.”

The slant of one eyebrow suggested he was not amused. “Just so you make it to the police station by two-thirty.”

She rolled her eyes. “If the shopping doesn’t take very long, I thought I’d stop by Kirk’s shop and see if we could have lunch. With Karen around, he doesn’t say much. And maybe he won’t be enthusiastic, but...” She let herself trail off, not quite wanting to admit how curious she was about him.
You were a daddy’s girl
. Sometimes, looking at him, she felt movement deep inside, just a shiver, as if something well below the surface stirred the water.

Focusing again on Seth’s craggy face, she had the uncomfortable feeling he’d seen more than she meant to give away. And not for the first time. Resentment mixed with unease. She was
good
at hiding. What was it with him, anyway?

“We haven’t talked about where you’re going to stay.”

Bailey tensed. “I can call Karen. I’m sure they’d be okay—”

But he was shaking his head. “I’d rather you stay here.”

“Because?”

“Lot of pressure on you when you’re with them.”

Yes!
She could spend an hour or two at a time with them, then wanted to get away so desperately, she understood why animals chewed a leg off to escape the steel jaws of a trap.

He frowned again. “Once the vultures know you’re there, you might find yourself stuck.”

“They can follow me here.”

“Not if you’re careful. Even if they do, they’d have to deal with me. They wouldn’t like that.”

“It’s not fair to you.”

“Bailey.” His voice had dropped an octave. He kept watching her in that unnerving way. Apparently two cups of coffee had really woken him up. “I mean what I say. I want to provide a refuge for you. I want to hear about your day. How you feel about what’s happening. I know—” he hesitated slightly “—trust isn’t easy for you. I’m asking for yours anyway.”

Her throat closed up and for a minute she couldn’t have spoken even if she knew what to say. But at last she said gruffly, “You’re right. I mean, it’s not. But I do. Mostly. It’s not like you haven’t earned it. So... I’m trying.”

He surprised her by laughing. “You should have stopped while you were ahead. Another ten seconds, you’ll be admitting you don’t trust me at all.”

“No, that’s not true—”

Still smiling, he said, “I think it is, but that’s okay. We’ll get there, Bailey. Now I need to be off. Do what you have to today, but if you’re cornered, you have no comment. You take out your phone and say, ‘If you don’t back off, I’m calling 911.’ They don’t, you call me. Okay?”

She nodded, that lump clogging her throat again.

“Oh.” He went around to the kitchen side of the breakfast bar, opened a drawer and took out a key and a flat black
something
she realized after a puzzled moment was the remote for the garage. “You keep parking inside. And do
not
open the door to anyone. Got that?”

All she could do was nod.

He came back around the breakfast bar and bent to kiss her cheek. “See you this afternoon.”