Secrets Of The Rose. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ a clear sign of his distress. Normally Tim was fastidious about his clothing. Sympathy tugged at her. He was missing that effervescent five-year-old as much as she was.

      He opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, then finally spoke. “Are you all right?”

      “No.” She motioned to the chair opposite. The tears had stopped. Now she was drained of everything. The first few hours after an abduction were crucial. How long had it been since they’d taken her?

      “Shelby?”

      She glanced up, saw his concern. “I’m not all right, Tim. I want my daughter back.”

      “I know you do. But Aimee is fine, Shelby. We have to believe that.” He stared at her, his eyes filled with shadows. “The writing said she was safe.”

      He must know how ridiculous that sounded. To believe a promise scribbled on a mirror? Frustration at his gullibility nipped at her heart and tumbled out in the tone of her words.

      “I don’t believe that. And neither do you. She was safe here with me, Tim. Happy and healthy and loved. How can she be safe away from the one who loves her most? That’s ridiculous!” The angry words emerged harsh and bitter, but it felt good to finally unleash some of the violence that whirled inside her.

      Tim jerked back as if he’d been stung, eyes wide with surprise.

      Shelby knew she should apologize, but she couldn’t. Not now, when she’d been waiting on tenterhooks all day and all night for something, some tiny ray of hope to cling to.

      “You really want me to trust the scribblings of a kidnapper?” She shook her head, her freshly washed hair bouncing from shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

      “But Shelby, you have to have faith. You have to. You’re the one who said God…” Clearly worried by her angry glare, he flopped into her white wicker chair, crossed one leg over his knee, then took it down. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I saw you sitting here and knew you couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d keep you company but I’m making things worse. You look tired.”

      Tired? If only that’s all it was.

      The mirror hadn’t been kind earlier. Shelby knew her hair was a mess, unstyled, frizzy, dangling around her face like a mop. Pushing it behind her ears only emphasized the lines under her eyes, the down-turning pull of frustration at the corners of her mouth, but she hadn’t wanted to waste time on makeup or hairstyling. She’d made it in and out of the shower in four minutes, lest she miss the kidnapper’s call for ransom.

      Only there hadn’t been any call.

      “I heard them talking, you know, Tim, the police manning the phones.” She didn’t look at him, didn’t want to see the pity on his face. “I went down around midnight to get a drink. They thought I was upstairs resting so they were talking openly. They’re just as worried as I am that no demand has been made.”

      He frowned, glared over one shoulder at her house, as if he could transmit his thoughts through the walls.

      “I don’t imagine they know that much about kidnapping,” he offered. “I don’t think it happens all that often in a city as quiet as Victoria.”

      “It’s not just the local police involved now. They’ve called in the RCMP, a missing persons unit, and I don’t know who else. I don’t really care who they call, as long as they find my daughter. But how can that happen when they have no leads, no suspects, nothing to go on? The neighbors weren’t even awake.” She lifted her head, caught a strange expression on his face. “You didn’t see anything, did you?”

      He was about to answer, but Shelby forestalled him, held up a hand. She already knew what he’d say.

      “No, of course you didn’t. You were asleep like the rest of the world.” Bitter disappointment nipped at her. No chance of a lead here. “Anyway, I’d imagine the police have already asked you that question, haven’t they?”

      “Several times.” Tim reached out, touched her arm. “But I’d answer it a hundred times if I thought it would help. I’d do anything to spare you this pain.” He gulped, swallowed. “I love that little girl, too. You know that.”

      “Yes, I do.” Shelby covered his hand with her own, moved by the tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry I sound so cross with you. I’m just…afraid.”

      His fingers squeezed hers but didn’t let go. The warmth transmitting from his hand to hers eased the sense of loneliness she’d felt earlier. The hushed night sounds slowly died away. To the east, the horizon began to lighten with its first predawn glimmers. Shelby had always loved the early morning. It was as if God was saying, “Here, I’m giving you another chance. A new day, fresh and clean. Do something wonderful with it.”

      What was He saying this morning? Would today bring Aimee home?

      “It’s hard to keep hoping, Tim,” she whispered. “All the terrible things you hear that happen to kids—they come back when the night is quiet and there’s nothing to hold back the fear. They replay over and over.” She caught her breath, fought to steady her voice. “In my mind I keep hearing those news reports about that little girl that was abducted last winter. What if Aimee—”

      “No!” He jumped to his feet, his color high, eyes blazing. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it! Until we know differently, Aimee is fine. Do you hear me? She’s fine!”

      Startled by his vehemence, Shelby stared as Tim paced across the patio. Then he seemed to regroup.

      “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his face drawn in a tight mask. “But I can’t bear to think like that. Please, have some faith, Shelby. Just a little bit of faith.”

      She wondered if his reaction had something to do with his past. He’d never told her more than that an accident had caused the scars covering his face and hands. His words penetrated.

      “Faith? What exactly does that mean, Tim? I’ve always wondered. Do you keep hoping when everything seems to be telling you there is no hope?”

      He shook his head. “It’s not what you hope. It’s Who you hope in. Isn’t that what Aimee’s always singing about?”

      The reminder resonated within her. If ever there was a child of hope, that child was Aimee. They’d waited so long for her—five long years when Shelby had secretly feared she and Grant would never have a child. And then Aimee arrived. From her very first day, she’d been a happy, contented baby. She’s spoken earlier than usual, her voice a soft musical tone to her parents’ ears.

      By two she was repeating everything she heard, accompanying the words with a tune she composed inside her brain. Oh those songs! Songs of joy, of happiness, of wonder. Songs of hope. Shelby had to believe that precious voice would not be silenced.

      She heard a sound behind her, twisted to see who was there. Natalie stood tall, silent, hands hanging at her side. She had an odd look on her face, as if something had surprised her.

      “Is anything wrong?” Shelby asked the detective.

      “I’m not sure. There’s a man here, Daniel McCullough. I believe you told me he runs your company.” Natalie’s elegant demeanor appeared barely disturbed by her night on the sofa after she’d refused СКАЧАТЬ