Not by Sight (7 page)

“I’m a practical kind of guy. I think you should have a plan before you jump in with both feet.”

Abby twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “My plan is to find Ella. I’m going back to town and ask around some more—places people would be likely to take children: ice-cream parlors, candy stores, gift shops, toy stores, pizza places, burger shops.”

“People might remember her because of the twins,” Jay said. “That’s a good way to jog their memory. I could help you ask around.”

“Thanks, but people are so protective of kids nowadays, I just think they’d be more willing to talk to a female.”

“Whatever. I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

“There is. Just listen and don’t try to talk me out of it. Or tell me I sound desperate. I need to do this.”

“Then go for it. I’ll be the wind in your sails.”

Abby felt a sting and slapped her arm. “Oh, great. I forgot to use insect repellent. The mosquitoes will eat me alive.”

Jay stood and stepped into his Birkenstocks, then pulled her to her feet.

“How about I take you to Sweet Stuff and buy you a banana boat? As my aunt Clara used to say, ‘Ain’t nothin’ that ails a body or mind that can’t be fixed at Sweet Stuff.’”

“That does sound good,” Abby said.

“And it’s another place you can check to see if anyone working there recognizes Ella.”

An hour and a half later, Abby slid out of Jay’s truck. She shut the door and leaned on the open window.

“I had fun,” she said. “Thanks again for being a friend. It means a lot to me that I can tell you whatever’s on my mind.”

Jay smiled. “The nice thing about having a girl for my best friend is not having to do the talking.”

Abby laughed. “You’re a good listener. I know I talk too much.”

“I’d say it’s about right. See you tomorrow. Call or text me if you hear anything about Ella.”

“I will. Good night.”

Abby waved as Jay made a U-turn and headed back down the only road to town.

She walked up on the porch and opened the front door. Grandpa Buck was in his chair, watching a baseball game.

Her mother walked out of the kitchen, hands on her hips. “There you are. I was starting to worry. Hawk’s down at the pier, fishing for bream. He called and said you and Jay weren’t there.”

“We were, until the mosquitoes drove us away. We went down to Sweet Stuff and had a banana boat.”

“You have a cell phone.” Mama came over and put her arms around Abby. “Just let me know where you are so I won’t worry. That’s the one rock-solid rule in this family.”

“Sorry,” Abby said. “I should have called.”

Her mother squeezed her affectionately and then let go. “Now that we have that straight … how were the banana boats?”

“To die for. They haven’t changed since I was little.”

“Can’t improve on perfection,” Grandpa Buck said.

“Abby got a banana boat?” Jesse ran into the living room and came to a screeching halt in front of their mother. “Can we get one?” Jesse’s round blue eyes were compelling. “Pleeease?”

Grandpa chuckled. “Sounds to me like we’re going to Sweet Stuff.”

Mama tapped Jesse on the nose. “All right. Go wash your face and put a shirt on.”

“Yay!”

Abby smiled as Jesse turned on his heel and raced upstairs.

“You want to go with us and keep us company?” Mama said.

Abby shook her head. “Thanks, but I need to do my laundry. I don’t have anything clean for work in the morning.”

Mama stared at Abby as if she were probing her thoughts. “Honey, are we okay?”

Hardly.
“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure I sounded harsh yesterday when you showed me the picture you’d taken of the little girl. I apologize if I hurt your feelings—”

“Don’t worry about it. I said I wouldn’t bother you with it anymore, and I won’t.”

Her mother sighed. “I’m doing the best I can to cope in my own way.”

“So am I. We’ll just have to respect the differences.”

“Fair enough. But
respect
is the operative word here.”

Abby started to say something and then didn’t. She did respect her mother. But it was beyond comprehension that Mama could just blow off the girl’s picture without any thoughtful consideration that it could be her daughter.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

“I respect
you
”—Abby avoided eye contact—“but I just don’t get how you can look the other way when the girl’s face looks just like Riley Jo’s.”

“Abby, do you think you’re the only one in the family who has done a double take of a man or young girl that reminds us of your father or Riley Jo?” Mama spoke softly, her tone void of anger. “We just don’t talk about it. I’ve been through this dozens of times myself. I’ve learned the hard way not to let my imagination open that wound. They’re gone. They’re not coming back. You have to reach acceptance in your own way. But I
have
. And want to go forward now. I can’t go back to false hope. I just can’t.”

Abby nodded. “I get it.” She didn’t. But she’d been lectured enough. “I need to get started on my laundry. Enjoy the banana boats.”

Abby turned and walked toward her room, her heart flooded with doubt. What if Mama was right? What if this was false hope … and there really wasn’t any hope at all?

Chapter 8

The next morning, Abby clocked out at Flutter’s and left by the side door. She skipped down a flight of stairs and counted thirteen people on the deck, sitting at umbrella tables, enjoying the spectacular view of Beaver Lake and the rolling mountains beyond. She went down the stairs to the ground level and was walking across the street when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen.
Caller Unknown.

“Hello.” She heard someone breathing into the phone. “This is Abby. Who’s there?”

“Listen carefully,” said a muffled male voice. “Stop askin’ questions about the girl, and don’t tell nobody about this call. Or you’re liable to go missin’ too.”

“Who
is
this?” Abby felt as if her heart had been dropped off a cliff. “Hello?”

The phone went dead.

Abby stood frozen in the driveway, her heart pounding, her mind racing wildly with the implications. Who would call and say such a terrible thing? Who didn’t want her to find Ella …? And why …? What had she gotten herself into …?

Wait a minute
—Abby’s fear quickly turned to anger—this kind of mean prank reeked of Mason Craddock and his pathetic jock friends. She could just imagine them laughing and slapping each other on the back. And to think she almost fell for it!

Abby felt at the same time relieved and incensed. She kicked a pebble across the driveway. What a jerk. Mason was still mad at her for turning him down when he asked her to the spring dance. He must have gotten her cell number off one of the cards she had passed out around town.

Even if Mason and his brainless clones had gotten wind of Abby’s search for the girl, why would they have automatically assumed that she was looking for her sister and using the doll story to cover up her real motive? Was she that obvious? Had other people figured it out too?

Abby felt heat scalding her cheeks. Why should she care what they thought? How could they even begin to understand the emptiness she lived with, day in and day out? Or how it felt not to know what had happened to your dad and sister?

She considered for a moment calling Mason and letting him know exactly what she thought of his sick joke. Then again, why give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’d finally gotten her attention? That’s exactly what he wanted.

Abby looked at the picture of Ella on her cell phone. Why was she so inexplicably drawn to this child? Was it because she wanted more than anything for her to be Riley Jo? Or was there a true connection that defied words?

Either way, until she knew the answer, she wouldn’t stop looking for her.

Kate leaned on the wood railing on the umbrella deck at Angel View Lodge and looked out over Beaver Lake. The morning fog had lifted, and scores of sailboats and fishing charters were moving in all directions on the blue water. She spotted a number of Angel View paddleboats out there, as well as the three green-and-white houseboats she rented by the day or week.

A mixed flock of gulls and terns flew in the direction of Egret Island. The sky was azure and cloudless, the breeze mild. She never stopped being amazed that she owned this little slice of heaven, even though managing the lodge by herself was difficult. How she missed Micah—his entrepreneurial spirit. His innovation. His talent for fixing most anything. His friendly interactions with guests.

Her man had a passion for natural beauty evidenced by all the windows and decks he had designed to ensure that guests at the lodge could soak in the view from every side. Each task, project, or hobby he undertook, he did with exuberance. The word
boring
wasn’t even in Micah’s vocabulary.

Usually, when there was tension between them, he was the even-tempered half of the partnership. Slow to anger. Quick to forgive—and forget. Half the time she didn’t even have to tell him what she was thinking. He could look past the exterior and read her heart. No one could bring Kate out of a bad mood like Micah. When she wanted to pout and hang on to her anger, Micah would pull her into his arms and just hold her. It was as though he could see her soul—flaws and all—and cherished her anyway.

Or so she thought. Sometimes she wondered if she had finally pushed him over the edge of his patience with her stubborn unwillingness to consider putting some of their money into a riskier investment. They’d had arguments before but had never found themselves at such an impasse. Despite all of Micah’s wonderful qualities, he was a risk taker and couldn’t seem to understand that Kate wasn’t.

Outwardly, Kate rejected the notion that this man, who had loved her so deeply and devoted himself to making her happy, would have turned to another woman. But deep down, the fear tormented her. For weeks before his disappearance, she’d been consumed with financial worries. Their communication was often strained and their lovemaking nonexistent, solely Kate’s doing and something she now deeply regretted. What she wouldn’t give just to feel Micah’s arms around her again.

Kate looked out at the glistening lake. She had finally reached a level of acceptance that made it bearable to move forward without her husband and baby girl. But Abby’s stubborn insistence that the child she saw could be Riley Jo threatened to unearth the broken dreams Kate had finally been able to bury. She would not bury them twice. She refused to be deceived again by false hope.

Just seeing the picture of the little girl had been upsetting. The child’s face was sweet, her facial features dainty, like Riley Jo’s. Was it God’s way of taunting her, rubbing salt in the raw wound that would probably never heal? What did He want from her? She had been a faithful follower when He broke His promise never to leave or forsake her. Where was He during those agonizing days, weeks, months, and years when she cried out to Him for relief from the pain that tormented her? When she struggled to survive with the broken heart that He, in His sovereignty, had allowed to break?

It was difficult enough that He had repaid her faithfulness with suffering. But it was unbearable that He had left her to endure it alone. That He had removed His presence from her when she needed Him most. Every sympathy card she got encouraged her to reach out to Him for comfort. But there was no comfort. No loving arms to wrap her in the peace that passes understanding. If she learned anything from losing her husband and daughter, it was that God couldn’t be trusted.

It would be disingenuous of her to encourage her children to put their faith in a God capable of such indifference. Though she missed that passionate longing for the spiritual. And the sense of being deeply loved by the God of the universe. Her father had it. So did Abby. Soon Jesse would. But not Kate. Never again. And she was not going to feel guilty for not buying into the religious hype. God was not what He claimed to be. And her faith had not withstood the betrayal. It was all a myth.

Kate felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped.