Yesterday's Gone (Two Daughters Book 1) (5 page)

“That you’re our Hope.”

“Yes.”

“Do you now?” Kirk asked, eyes keen on her face.

Bailey tried to smile. “It’s hard not to. I mean, look at us.”

He glanced at Karen’s face and back to Bailey. “Nobody could mistake you two for anything but mother and daughter.”

“There’s the birthmark, too.”

He nodded, as if feeling a weight settling onto him. “Your smile. We’ll have to show you pictures.”

“I’d like that,” she lied.

“You think we’ll need to have the press conference right away,” Karen said suddenly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t use my head. I don’t believe anybody close to us would go to the press, but everyone I called has probably told everyone
they’ve
talked to since. I should have kept it quiet until you were ready.”

Bailey couldn’t help making a face. “Are you ever ready for something like this?”

“No. Oh, my. A press conference. Everyone will be staring at
us
.” She sounded appalled. “What should we
wear
?”

Bailey laughed, the familiar, feminine wail providing comic relief. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ve seen this kind of press conference on TV without ever paying the slightest attention to what people were wearing. I’m not sure anybody cares.”

Her mother’s back straightened. “
I
care.”

“So do I,” Bailey admitted, then thought—
wait. Did I just think of her as my
mother
?

Yes.

“I suppose we should talk to Seth—I mean, Detective Chandler. He said he’d arrange everything.”

“Should we call him?” Karen sounded dithery.

“I agreed to meet him later today,” Bailey said. “I’ll call you after I do, okay? Um, I should get your phone number.”

Adding so many new numbers to her contacts list made this all seem real.

Jarred, she thought,
Another new reality.

She added the Lawsons’ home phone, Kirk’s cell phone, and Eve’s cell phone.

“She doesn’t have a home phone,” Karen said, sounding mildly disapproving.

“I don’t, either. Most people our age don’t.”

Her phone rang, startling her. Seth. She answered. “Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong.” He hesitated. “I just had an inquiry from a journalist at our local paper asking if there was any truth to the rumor that Hope Lawson had been found alive and well.”

Bailey closed her eyes. “We were just talking about that. Karen called everyone in the family as well as some friends. And of course they may have spread the word, too.”

“Cat’s out of the bag. I think we need to accelerate our timing. I’ve talked to the sheriff and our PR people. We want to do it this afternoon.”

He gave her details. There was apparently a small auditorium of sorts in the new public safety building that held the courthouse as well as the Stimson city police department. The sheriff’s department was borrowing it. Someone was already calling news outlets.

“I think we’ll have a full house, Bailey.”

“Oh, God.”

“It might be good if we can get Eve there, too. Otherwise, someone will think to corner her later for a quote. Best to get it over with in one gulp.”

She pictured herself slithering down some monster’s maw. Lovely thought.

“Um... Karen wants to know what we should wear.”

There was a prolonged moment of silence. “Something nice?” He sounded out of his element. “No big prints or gaudy colors. Probably not too dressy.”

“No sequins. Check.”

“Business casual.”

“Gotcha.” Sort of. Even as her heart raced, she mentally sorted through the clothes she’d brought with her.

“After you change, I think you’re going to want to check out of the Quality Inn. If you feel ready to stay with the Lawsons—”

“No,” she said too quickly.

Another silence. “All right.” He said it so gently. “We’ll talk about it when I see you. Lunch?”

She glanced guiltily at her plate. She really hadn’t done justice to this breakfast, and Karen must have worked so hard on it.

Pathetic though it was, she’d have begged if she’d had to. She swallowed. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll get takeout. We can park somewhere.”

“That...sounds good.” Her gaze slid sideways again to the amount of food left on her plate. Maybe by then she’d have conquered this roiling in her belly and be hungry.

Letting him go, she then had to detail the plans to the Lawsons, watching Karen’s eyes widen again.

“Eve? Oh, my.”

“I hope this isn’t a problem for her, given her job. She’ll suffer from some reflected notoriety.”

“Oh, my.”

Which pretty well said it all.

* * *

S
ETH
STEPPED
BACK
into the small staging room where all four Lawsons huddled like a herd of deer unsure which way to leap. Kirk looked his usual stoic self, if uncomfortable in a white shirt and tie, Karen excited and terrified all at once, Bailey resigned and Eve... He couldn’t quite tell.

He’d call her tonight. Or even take her aside after the circus was over, if he had a chance.

“We’re set up,” he told them. “There are a lot of cameras out there. Ignore them. Look people in the eyes when you talk. Along with reporters, we have some curiosity seekers.” His mouth quirked. “I saw the Stimson police chief himself standing at the back.”

Over lunch, eaten at a relatively deserted riverside park, Bailey had finally thought to ask why a detective with the county sheriff’s department was investigating, given that the Lawsons lived in Stimson. The high school, she’d learned, was outside city limits. Since that’s where the crime had occurred, the original and any continuing investigation had been the responsibility of the sheriff’s department.

The sheriff himself had shaken all their hands and been briefed to do the initial talking. Usually detectives stayed in the background, but under the circumstances he’d warned Seth to expect to have to answer questions.

“All right,” he said quietly. “Let’s do this.”

He ushered them all onto the stage. Flashes momentarily blinded him. He blinked as they continued. The forest of big-ass cameras was intimidating as hell. He’d ended up by design with a hand on Bailey’s back. He felt her stiffen, but a sidelong glance reassured him that she and Eve looked remarkably poised. The parents...well, everyone would expect out-of-control emotions.

An experienced, folksy speaker, Sheriff Jaccard had his audience bespelled from the moment he began.

“Twenty-three years ago, a little girl who’d been born and grown up in Stimson vanished into thin air. The community was shaken when news of the abduction spread. Even then, we had our share of crime, but having a child snatched by a stranger under the noses of a whole lot of other parents scared the daylights out of everyone. How was it that not a soul, adult or child, had seen anything at all? This department’s best efforts never produced a fruitful lead. The FBI had no more success. Six-year-old Hope Lawson was gone, for all intents and purposes, from the face of the earth. Her parents were left to grieve and yet cling to their belief that she would someday come home. The rest of us...well, we came to assume she was dead.” He swept the audience with a gaze that commanded attention. “We were wrong.”

Exclamations and shouted questions filled the auditorium.

When they died down briefly, he raised his voice. “We’ll take questions eventually, but first let me finish. Hope Lawson is with us today because of Detective Seth Chandler, who has a special interest in pursuing cold cases. He moved to Stimson only three years ago and had never heard of Hope until someone mentioned her disappearance to him. He’s had some success in tracing missing people, in part because law enforcement agencies are getting a lot better at communicating with each other. But Hope didn’t appear in any of those databases, either. He took the extra step of having an artist create an age-progressed picture.” The sheriff used his laptop, open on the podium, to project a picture on the white screen behind him. He turned to look at it, as everyone in the audience did the same. “This is that picture.”

The flashes dazzled Seth’s eyes again. Photographers, crouching, got as close to the stage as they could, probably trying to get Bailey and the picture in the same frame.

The sheriff explained how Seth had created interest in the case and how the picture had spread across social media sites until someone had said to a young woman, “Your picture is online.” He smiled and stepped aside, motioning Bailey to join him. “Meet Hope Lawson.”

Again questions flew before she could open her mouth. Again he waited for quiet and said, “She’s prepared a statement.”

Poised
had been a good word to use for her, Seth thought. Given her background, it was hard to understand where she’d come by so much strength and confidence. Confidence that hid a whole lot of damage and a mess of insecurities, he suspected, but the beautiful woman who gazed calmly at the roomful of people and cameras had one fine facade.

“I do not remember the abduction itself,” she began. “I spent the next five years with a man I do remember. I presume he was the one to take me, although he might have acquired me from someone else. Eventually, he abandoned me in a motel room in Bakersfield, California.” Head high, she looked around. “By then, I no longer remembered my name or family. He had taught me to call him Daddy. Authorities were unable to locate him, but assumed he was my father. I was placed in the foster care system, where I was fortunate enough to have some fine people to help me heal.” She talked about graduating from high school and working a variety of jobs before deciding to get a college degree. “A part of me was afraid to walk into the sheriff’s department and say, ‘I think I’m Hope Lawson.’ I wasn’t at all sure I really was, and also...acknowledging it forces me to face a great deal from my past. I know you have questions, and I will answer some, but not all. I ask you to respect my right to privacy.”

The questions flew. She did answer some. Seth answered others. Yes, he told them, Bailey had that day submitted a sample for a DNA test, but along with the obvious family resemblance and Bailey’s memory of her background, a birthmark had solidified their certainty that she was Hope. Karen did most of the talking for the Lawsons, but Eve told everyone there how thrilled she was to have Hope home.

“After I came to live with the Lawsons, I felt incredibly lucky. But I was always conscious of a hole in our family. Hope was missing. Somewhere, I had a sister out there. Now—” she aimed a shy but warm smile at Hope “—she’s home.”

Truth
, Seth thought,
but not all of it.

Tears ran down Karen’s face. Kirk swiped some from his own cheeks. Cameras caught it all.

At last the sheriff stepped up to the podium again and made a plea for everyone to respect the Lawsons’ need for privacy and space to move ahead with their lives. Trying for unobtrusive, Seth opened the door at the back of the stage and signaled for the family to fade back.

The moment he’d closed the door, Karen burst into sobs. Looking helpless, Kirk put his arms around her. Eve hovered close, murmuring comforting words, while Bailey stood apart looking helpless and awkward.

“I’m so happy!” Karen wailed, and Seth sort of understood. Twenty-three years’ worth of agony, despair, guilt and hope—yeah,
hope
—had all been released today to fly free.

Whether she liked it or not, Bailey Smith now had a family, with all the complications that entailed.

CHAPTER FIVE

“M
OM
TOLD
ME
you need a place to stay,” Eve said in a low voice her parents wouldn’t hear. “That Seth insists you move out of the hotel.”

They had been ushered into a conference room in the public safety building to wait for the tumult to die down so they could all slip away.

“He thinks some members of the press might be staying there,” Bailey agreed. “That they’re all going to try to get me by myself. I packed and checked out earlier.”

“You can stay with me if you want.” Eve sounded offhanded, even abrupt. “I don’t have a spare bedroom, but I do have a pullout couch.”

Bailey tilted her head, assessing the sincerity of this woman whom she’d barely met. Eve was trying to hide it, but, if Bailey read her right, she fairly bristled with dislike and resentment. It seemed ludicrous they had to pretend to have a sisterly relationship.

Was there any chance she actually did want them to get better acquainted? But all Bailey had to do was meet that expressionless gaze to know the answer. No. Her parents had thought it would be wonderful if Bailey stayed with her. She’d just about had to make the offer. But she wanted Bailey in her apartment about as much as Bailey wanted to be there.

Of course, there was the little problem of where she
would
go. One of those freeway exit hotels back in Mount Vernon, she thought, even as she studied Eve.

Her adopted sister was beautiful. Bailey knew when she was outshone. The other thing that stood out was how very different they looked, making her wonder if the Lawsons had asked for a foster daughter who bore no resemblance to their lost child. Had that occurred to Eve? Something else that might sting.

Masses of dark, curly hair fell to the middle of Eve’s back and framed a delicate, heart-shaped face. She had huge, brown eyes accentuated by long, dark lashes.
She
didn’t have to plaster on mascara to make her eyelashes visible, or use a pencil to color in pale eyebrows. Her complexion was dark enough to suggest she might be half Latina or Italian or—who knew?—Philippine or Arabic. Arabian nights, was what Bailey had thought, seeing her. Eve’s looks were somehow exotic, although she didn’t have the lush body that would make her a fortune at belly dancing. She was slimmer than Eve, almost slight, and small-breasted.

“Thank you for offering,” she said pleasantly, “but I already have something arranged.”

Eve’s nostrils flared. “I suppose Seth has taken care of you.”

Bailey refused to give anything away. “He’s been thoughtful.”

“Oh, he can be that.” Her lip curled the tiniest amount. “Until he’s not.” Eve turned her back, excluding Bailey. “Mom, Dad, if we go out the side door we ought to be able to make our getaway.”

Karen gazed beseechingly at Bailey. “Oh, but... Hope.”

“She has someplace else to stay.” Eve didn’t so much as glance over her shoulder.

Bailey took a deep breath, centered herself and smiled at Karen.
My mother.
“Could we have lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh!” Her cheeks pink, she turned her head as if it was a given she’d consult her husband. “Kirk, can you make it?”

He patted her back. “I think Bailey was inviting just you. It might be easier for her to get to know us one-on-one.”

“You don’t mind?”

He shook his head. “Of course I don’t. Bailey and I, well, we’ll have a chance.”

For some reason, the idea of spending time with him caused jolts of anxiety. Not fear—she didn’t think she’d ever been afraid of him, but...there was something.

Karen smiled. “Then I would love to have lunch with you, Hope.”

“I’ll call you in the morning, if that’s all right,” Bailey suggested.

“Perfect.”

Eve gave one narrow-eyed look over her shoulder, then escorted her parents out of the room. Bailey heard the deep grit of Seth’s voice speaking to them. From where she was standing, she couldn’t hear every word, but she made out enough to gather he was trying to separate Eve from her parents and failing because they were oblivious. The voices all faded as he apparently walked them out.

She sank into a chair at the long table, wishing she could take off, too. If she knew where to go—

Hostility masking all-too-familiar panic had her stiffening. Who said she had to consult him? She didn’t need Seth Chandler. Yes, he had been nice, but she knew damn well how he saw her. His ticket to fame and advancement. He’d be damn near as famous as she would be. The dedicated, caring detective who worked tirelessly to bring Hope Lawson home despite the heavy weight of his caseload. She could just hear it, said solemnly by a newscaster introducing the story.

Her suitcase was in the trunk of her rental. If she was lucky, she could dodge him and just go. To a hotel that wasn’t in Stimson. Maybe even one all the way south of Seattle by SeaTac. She could fly out in the morning. Call and apologize to Karen. Promise to stay in touch.

She jumped up from the chair, snatched up her bag and made for the door.

A couple of heads turned when she appeared in the hall, but she saw only one person. Seth, striding toward her, lines creasing his forehead. Frustration? Irritation? She couldn’t tell. But his expression changed when his gaze locked on her like a heat-seeking missile.

Her knees inexplicably wobbled. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Detective.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

“Leaving?”

He gripped her arm. “I thought this would be a good time for us to talk.”

Her heart contracted. “Talk?”

“I want to put that son of a bitch behind bars where he can never touch a little girl again,” he said with controlled ferocity. “Never so much as set eyes on one.”

Without volition, she retreated a step. “I...didn’t realize you intended to do that so soon.” She was infuriated by the die-away tone. Gothic heroine, ready to swoon. Unfortunately, she felt close.

His hand on her arm tightened. “Are you all right, Bailey?”

“No.” She tried to keep backing away. “This has been a really hard day. I don’t... I can’t...”

“Will it be any easier tomorrow?”

This gentler tone weakened her.
Damn him
, she thought furiously. It was as if he knew exactly what buttons to push.

“I don’t know, but forgive me if I’m not eager to dredge up the nightmare I’ve spent a whole lot of years doing my damnedest to suppress.”

“You want to let him get away with what he did to you?” His stare was hard now, all cop. Tactic number two: lay some guilt on her.

Trembling, she said, “What I
want
is to erase him from my memory.”

“What if he’s stalking a little girl right now?”

“Oh, that’s low,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly. “It was. I’m sorry, Bailey. Being pushy... I guess it gets to be a habit.”

Still trembling in his grasp, she looked up at the strong-boned face that, despite everything, reassured her. And then she was the one to close her eyes in shame. “It was also true.”

“What? That I’m pushy?”

“That
he
could have his eye on another little girl now. Only...mightn’t he be too old?”

“Depends on how old he is.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. “You win. Let’s get this over with.”

He looked disturbed. “I win? Bailey, this isn’t about me putting something over on you.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

He grunted, accepting what she’d said but not necessarily buying into it. Still, he steered her into the same room, his hand warm on her back. She was becoming accustomed to the feel of that hand, solid, comforting and... Realizing what she felt was a shimmer of excitement, she put on the brakes. Whoa. Not going there.

Seth closed the door behind them, waiting until she’d pulled out a chair before sitting down directly across the table from her. His gaze on her face, he pulled a pen and small spiral notebook from a pocket. He’d come prepared.

“Start anywhere you want,” he said in a tone obviously meant to calm her. Animal control officer coaxing a terrified, possibly vicious dog. “Or, if you prefer, I’ll ask questions.”

“No.” She turned her gaze away to the bland, textured wall usual for these kind of rooms. She didn’t look forward to seeing pity and disgust in those eyes. “His name—” Oh, God, this was hard to say. She forced the rest out, her voice rusty “—was Les Hamby. At least, that’s what he called himself then.”

Describing the monster who haunted her dreams was worse than speaking his name aloud. The more mundane she made him sound, the more pitiable she felt. If he wasn’t huge and snarling...what was her excuse for not escaping?

“You think five foot eight or nine,” Seth said, making notes. “Skinny.”

“Wiry,” she said, still not meeting his eyes. “He was strong, or at least, he seemed so to me.”

“Will you sit down with an artist to try to come up with a drawing?”

See his face again? A scream bounced around in her head, so piercing it was hard to believe Seth didn’t hear it. But, “Yes,” she murmured.

“His hair wasn’t graying,” Seth said thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Picture him, Bailey. You’re an adult now. Can you estimate his age?”

Beneath the table, her hands fisted, her fingernails biting into her palms. “I...don’t know. When I see him, I’m a child. He wasn’t graying, or...” God, was she rocking?
Yes
. “Thirties, maybe. I suppose he could have been younger. Late twenties. Old enough to not look like a college student.”

“Not forties.”

“No.” Surprised at her certainty, she sucked in a breath, then repeated, “No.”

“Did he use the same name the whole time you were with him?”

“Yes. I thought—” There was the naive child again.

“You thought?”

She jerked one shoulder. “That was his real name.”

“Did you ever see his ID?”

“No.” Her pulse picked up. “He’d have killed me if he saw me looking in his wallet.”

“But you know he
had
ID.”

“Yes. I mean, he had to show something when he rented rooms. And...one time he was pulled over. A taillight was out. Nothing happened, so he must have had a driver’s license and registration and maybe even an insurance card.”

Seth contemplated her. “Do you remember when and where that happened?”

Breathe.

“It was...”
Close your eyes. Think.
“California. Maybe. I don’t remember where. It was a sheriff’s deputy. Not a state patrol officer. We were in really dry country, like desert. So it might have been Nevada. We were there for a while.”

“And how old were you?”

“I don’t know.” The first birthday party she remembered was in her second foster home. “By that time, I’d forgotten where I came from.”

She felt herself rocking again and hoped the movement was slight enough he wouldn’t notice. After her daddy had pulled to the side of the road, he’d twisted her arm like a pretzel. It hurt for so long, she guessed he had broken or at least cracked it. “Call me Daddy,” he’d hissed, while they waited for the policeman to walk forward. “Look happy. Do you hear me?”

She blocked that part of the memory. “I might have been eight or nine?”

“Good.” His voice was deep, but also capable of sounding so patient and even tender.
Just another weapon in his arsenal
, she thought, arming herself with cynicism. “Let’s talk about where you lived.”

She’d forgotten so much. Tried so hard to forget. But some towns stuck in her memory anyway. They’d wandered the west—Idaho, Nevada, Oregon, California. “I don’t think we ever went to Utah, but maybe Arizona? I’m not sure.” She told him the kinds of places they’d stayed. A few flashing motel signs had stuck with her.

“No big cities,” he said thoughtfully.

Bailey shook her head. “Not really little towns, either, or at least not for more than a night. Big enough that nobody noticed us, and economically depressed. Or maybe that was only the parts of town I saw. He’d get work sometimes and leave me locked in the room while he was gone.”

Seth didn’t say,
Why the hell didn’t you take off? Ask for help?
Maybe he knew.
This
was why she had never told anyone the whole story. Because they wouldn’t understand.

Or maybe they would, which might be worse. Her own self-loathing was sufficient, thank you very much.

Of course Seth wanted to know what kind of work
he
had done. She tried never to think of
him
by his name and certainly not as Daddy.

“Handyman. He had tools in the trunk. But he was a mechanic, too. Sometimes he got a job working on cars. I don’t know what else.”

“Did he have friends? Did you ever meet other people who seemed to know him?”

She shook her head emphatically at that. “He never brought anybody to our room. He did go out to bars. He got drunk, but not falling down.” She had to close her eyes to say this. “Mean. He especially liked to hurt me when he was drunk.”

Seth made a pained sound that had her looking at him, really looking, for the first time since she’d started telling him about those terrible years.

“Goddamn,” he whispered. “I would do anything to go back and keep him from ever laying a hand on you.”

“Why? You didn’t know me. You still don’t really.”

“I know you well enough to want to protect you.” He lifted a hand that shook to his face, rubbed his jaw, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Remind me to show you the pictures I have of you.”

“Pictures? I’ve seen the ones that were online. I mean, the school picture.”

“Your mother—Karen—has been bringing me a snapshot a week,” he said with a grimace. “Baby pictures. Toddler pictures. You laughing, staring solemnly at the camera, playing, reading. It was torture.”

“You could have told her to stop.”

“No. It was her way of keeping me invested.” He gusted out a sigh. “A very effective way. Your smile haunted me. Your eyes.” He stopped. “You were such a happy child, Bailey. Your smile was like...turning on a light in a dark room.” He frowned. “You still have a beautiful smile. I just have this feeling it’s not lit from within like it was then. It’s only on the outside. I’d like to see you smile again as if you mean it,” he finished roughly.