At Hidden Falls (Angel's Bay Novel) (13 page)

Charlotte shook her head in bewilderment. “What I wanted to have was a relationship with my mother.”

“That’s not true,” her mother said in disbelief. “You never wanted to spend time with me.”

“When did you ever ask? You were always with Doreen. You got along so well with her. And Jamie was your baby. He couldn’t do anything wrong. They were always your first choice.”

“My first choice? I couldn’t
find
you half the time. Once you hit puberty, you were always sneaking out. And after the miscarriage, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

“It wasn’t just you I couldn’t look at it,” Charlotte confessed. “It was myself, too. I knew I screwed up.”

Monica gazed back at her. “I don’t think you’ve ever said that before.”

“And I probably won’t say it again,” she returned. “But it’s been a really long night.”

A gleam of compassion softened her mother’s eyes. “You’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

She nodded. “I could fall asleep standing up.”

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you on your own.”

“It’s fine. I’m going to lie down while he’s sleeping. I cleared my schedule for the day.” As she finished speaking, her cell phone rang. Joe’s number.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Hello.” Joe’s words were concise and to the point, and a wave of fear ran through her. “Are you sure it was Annie’s?” she asked, then listened to his reply. “Of course, bring it by. I’ll be here.”

As she ended the call, she glanced at her mother. “Joe said they found the bag of items Annie bought at the market yesterday. It was tossed behind a fence in a yard about two blocks away. On the sidewalk, they found a broken gold chain with a cross on it.”

Monica’s lips tightened in dismay. “Annie’s?”

“He’s bringing it over.” She paused, feeling suddenly very afraid and seeing that same fear reflected in her mother’s eyes. “He doesn’t think Annie ran away anymore.”

“It’s still possible,” her mother said, a desperate note in her voice. “Annie could have thrown the bag away when she decided she wasn’t coming back.”

For once, she wanted to believe her mother. “That’s true. But there was something in Joe’s voice.”

“He’s a police officer. He’s used to dealing with the worst-case scenario.”

The doorbell rang. “That’s Peter,” her mother said, casting a hesitant look over her shoulder. “Do you want me to stay, Charlotte?”

“No, do what you need to do. I’ll talk to Joe.”

“You’ll call me if anything comes up.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be back by one. I can watch the baby this afternoon.”

“That would be great.”

As the doorbell rang again, Monica turned to leave, but Charlotte couldn’t help asking the one question she’d never asked. “Mom . . .”

Her mother stopped, raising one eyebrow at the lengthening pause. “Yes?”

She took a breath and said, “Why didn’t you ever ask me who the father of my baby was?”

Her mother paled, but her eyes were steel. “Because I didn’t want to know. I still don’t.”

And that was her mother, always operating on her own terms. But at least they’d finally kicked the biggest elephant out of the room. It was a start.

In ordinary circumstances, Joe would have sent one of his officers over to Charlotte’s house. But it was Charlotte. He didn’t need any more reason than that.

Talking to the prospective adoptive couples the night before had been depressing and not very illuminating. He’d seen and heard how desperate some of them were to have children but, not surprisingly, no one had stepped forward to claim paternity. A simple DNA test would prove who the father was, and now that he had evidence that Annie hadn’t run away, he intended to get those tests.

But who would want to get Annie out of the way at this late date? She’d always had the freedom to reveal the father of her child. So what had changed?

He was still thinking about that when he knocked on Charlotte’s door.

She answered a few moments later, a little flushed and breathless. She wore jeans and a clingy knit shirt that showed off her curves. His breath stalled in his chest. She wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup, and there were weary shadows under her eyes, but she still had that just-got-out-of-bed look that reminded him of how much he’d like to see her
in
bed.

“Joe, you got here fast,” she said with a smile. “Come in. The baby is asleep, but who knows how long that will last? It’s amazing how little I can get done while taking care of one small child. I was excited just to take a shower.”

He smiled back at her. “I’ve heard my sisters say that exact same thing.”

“Do you want some coffee?” she asked as he stepped through the doorway.

“If it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all. We keep the pot going night and day.” She led him into the kitchen, grabbed a mug out of the cupboard, and filled it up.

“Thanks.”

She waved him toward a small round kitchen table. “So you brought something to show me?”

He took a plastic bag out of his pocket and set it on the table. A thin gold chain and cross were inside. “It could belong to anyone,” he said.

She shook her head, worry in her eyes. “Annie had one just like it. And the fact that it was close to the bag from the market . . . Joe, what does this mean?”

“It means we’re stepping up the investigation. I’ve got Jason canvassing the neighborhood around the market. If anyone saw anything, we’ll find them.”

She nodded, concern on her face. “But why would someone grab Annie? Do you think it was random?”

“I don’t. However, I have nothing to back that up but gut instinct.”

“I trust your instincts. If you don’t think it was random, then who?”

“That I can’t say.”

“You spoke to the adoptive couples?”

“Four of them. I have one more this afternoon. No one has stepped up to claim the child.” As he finished speaking, a baby’s scream came from the monitor. He winced. “That kid has some lungs.”

“Tell me about it.” She got up from the table and hurried down the hall. Joe followed her, watching from the doorway as she picked up the baby and put him on the changing table. He was screaming and kicking his feet, mad as hell, and Joe had never seen Charlotte so flustered.

“I’m not very good at this,” she told him.

“How are you so rattled? You deliver babies all the time.”

“I give them to their mothers right away. Still, I thought I was good with babies until this kid. He does
not
like me. Obviously, I wasn’t cut out to be a mother.”

At her words, he remembered a night a few weeks ago when she’d told him about her teen pregnancy and miscarriage. Suddenly, it was clear where her insecurity was coming from. He crossed the room and put his hand on her shoulder.

She gave him a nervous look. “What?”

He gazed into her eyes, giving her a reassuring smile. “You’re the most loving, generous, kind woman I know. From what I can see, you’re loaded with motherly instincts.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes blurring with tears. “I’m so tired, Joe. You’re going to make me cry.”

“Well, that’s not going to help,” he said lightly. “Just trust yourself, Charlotte. You’re not that scared pregnant teenage girl anymore, and he’s not the baby you lost.”

She sniffed and lifted her chin. “You’re right. It’s the lack of sleep. It makes me a little crazy.”

“Why don’t you let me take this diaper?” He pushed her gently out of the way.

“Okay, have at it.”

The kid tried to spray him when he took off the wet diaper, but Joe was ready for it and soon had him powdered and dry.

“Wow,” Charlotte murmured. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I don’t think I would have believed it. The chief of police changing diapers.”

“I have seven nieces and nephews. This wasn’t my first time.” He picked the baby up in his arms and pressed him against his chest, rubbing his back until he quieted down.

“You’re good,” Charlotte said. “Why don’t you have children? Oh, sorry—that was rather personal,” she added quickly.

“It never seemed to be the right time,” he said quietly. “Rachel and I talked about it a lot, but we couldn’t agree on when to do it. And it wasn’t always her putting things off. I did as well.”

“It’s not too late. You’re still young.”

“I’m pushing forty.”

“Well, until you’re pushing up daisies, you’ve got time.”

He handed her back the baby, who now snuggled into her soft chest with a satisfied sigh. “See, he does like you.”

“Parts of me,” she said with a laugh.

“They
are
very nice parts.” He grinned back at her.

She shook her head. “I walked right into that one.”

“You did.” He paused. “I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything about Annie.”

She gave him a heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Joe—for everything.”

“You’re more than welcome. I’m going to do more for this kid than change his diaper. I’m going to bring his mother back,” he promised.

“I know you will,” Charlotte said, trust shining out of her eyes.

He’d be damned if he’d let her down.

After her hike, Isabella showered, changed into jeans, and threw on a bright red sweater over a cream-colored top, adding high-heeled boots to complete the ensemble. She blew her hair dry but left it long and curly rather than wasting time with the straightener. She was eager to get to the theater. Not only was she looking forward to working on the costumes, but she also felt sure that the theater was tied to the dreams that had brought her to Angel’s Bay. After her disturbing flash at the waterfall, she was more determined than ever to find some answers.

When she entered the lobby, she found a hum of activity. The ticket office was crowded with volunteers organizing the presales, and a line was forming in the lobby for auditions. She waited for Tory to finish announcing the schedule for the day and then made her way over.

“Isabella, hello,” Tory said with a smile. “I was hoping we hadn’t scared you off.”

“Not a chance. You look busy,” she said, noting the pile of scripts in Tory’s arms.

“Once we get into preproduction, this place becomes a madhouse.”

“It’s exciting,” Isabella said, feeling the energy in the old building.

“You’re going to fit right in,” Tory replied with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “You’re already feeling the magic.”

“I am,” she admitted. “I’d forgotten what it’s like to be in a playhouse. There’s an unbelievable energy.”

“We need that energy to get everything done. I’ll walk with you; I was on my way to the costume shop to drop off the new scripts. Mariah, our head designer, is out this morning, but Erin can help you get started.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

They went down a short staircase and through a hallway to the costume shop. Erin was a skinny, pale brunette who wore jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She got up from behind a sewing machine as Tory introduced them. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “We can really use your help around here.”

Despite her welcome, there was a strain behind Erin’s smile and worry in her eyes. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” Isabella said quickly, knowing that some designers could be territorial.

“You don’t have to worry about that. We have more than enough work.” Erin turned to Tory. “I was just about to come and find you. Have you heard the latest rumors about Annie?”

“No,” Tory said as she set the scripts down on the worktable. “What’s going on?”

“One of the prospective adoptive fathers is the biological father of Annie’s baby,” Erin said.

“What?” Tory gasped, putting a hand on the table to steady herself. “That’s crazy. Who would say that?”

“I don’t know, but it’s all over town. I called Dan, but he’s out on a call and hasn’t gotten back to me yet. He’s going to be furious.”

“Steve will be, too,” Tory muttered. “After everything we’ve been through, now this? It’s too much.”

Isabella saw the look of commiseration pass between the two women. She was just wondering if she should leave them to their conversation when Tory sent her an apologetic glance.

“Erin and I are both on the list as possible candidates to adopt Annie’s baby,” Tory explained, “along with three other couples. Annie disappeared before she made her decision. Now we’re all in limbo.”

“I’m so sorry,” Isabella said. “It sounds like an awful situation.”

“And getting worse by the minute,” Erin said darkly. “I can’t believe what some people in this town will say.”

“The gossip doesn’t matter,” Tory said. “What’s important is finding Annie. Now, I need to get back to the auditions.” She gave Erin a quick hug. “Don’t lose faith.”

Erin wiped a tear from her eye as Tory left the room. “Sorry,” she mumbled to Isabella. “It’s been a stressful morning.”

“What can I do to help?” Isabella asked, feeling a wave of compassion for Erin. While Tory had lifted her chin and rallied her fighting spirit in the face of the rumors, Erin seemed quite fragile, almost ready to break.

“I need to run an errand and get my head together,” Erin said. “Let me get you started before I go.” She walked over to a rack and pulled out a dress, then laid it on the worktable. “This beading needs to be repaired. And the director wants to update the neckline and the hem like this.” She pulled out a sketch and set it next to the dress. “What do you think?”

“It’s a great improvement,” Isabella said, studying the sketch. “I’d love to do it. Who is the director, anyway?”

“Blake Hammond. He’ll be arriving next week, and he’ll probably have additional ideas when he gets here. Here’s a list of minor alterations that needed to be handled.” She gave a piece of paper to Isabella. “Everything is on that rack over by the door; just make yourself at home.”

As Erin left, Isabella blew out a breath and looked around. She was happy to be alone for a few moments. Erin’s emotions had cast a thick pall that lingered even now. Or perhaps the emotions she sensed weren’t coming from Erin’s distress but from a more distant past.

Isabella put a hand to her pendant. It felt heavy and warm against her skin, reassuring yet also making her feel oddly expectant. She waited for some flash of insight to come, but there was nothing. Still, she had the feeling that this costume shop was important in some way.