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But she reluctantly got into his department issue unmarked car and deposited a sizable handbag at her feet. He started the engine to get the air-conditioning going, reached for the gearshift, then let his hand drop. He sighed and looked at her.
“You know this isn’t going to be as simple as meeting and greeting the Lawsons, don’t you?”
She eyed him warily. “You mean they’re going to want more from me.”
“They are, but that isn’t what I’m talking about.” He hated to even raise this subject, given how obviously close to panic she already was, but felt he had to. “Your reappearance is going to be big news. The biggest. The press will flock to Stimson. You’ll be on the cover of People magazine. You will give hope to every parent who lost a child who has never been found. It won’t be a nine-day wonder, either. They’ll keep following up.” Seth knew he sounded brutal. “A week from now, a month from now, a year from now, they will want to hear how your family has healed. How you’ve moved on. They’ll dig for all the details. Paparazzi will try to catch you unawares. You will never live an unexamined life again.”
As he’d talked, horror had gradually overtaken her face. “Like Elizabeth Smart.”
“Yes. You, Bailey Smith, will be famous.”
“Oh, God.” She was shaking.
Unable to resist, he took one of her fine-boned hands. “Breathe.”
“I can’t do this.”
“I think you’ve come too far to turn back.”
Blue eyes fastened on his with a desperation that wrenched his heart. “If I go now—”
“Do I leave the Lawsons thinking you’re probably dead?”
“What if I meet them and we don’t tell anyone?” She didn’t seem to have noticed they were holding hands. That she was clutching him.
“I don’t think that would work.”
“Why not? You could make it part of the deal. Say I’ll talk to them only if they agree to keep it private.”
“You have grandparents. Aunts and uncles, cousins. Your parents have friends. Their adopted daughter. I know Karen Lawson. She’s incapable of lying to everyone. She won’t be able to hide her happiness.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “And then there’s your face, Bailey.”
The way she stared at him, stricken, told him she understood.
“The stranger that pointed you to the picture. Is this the only person who saw it and noticed the resemblance?”
Her shoulders sagged. “No. A couple of others have said something.”
“All it would take is someone getting excited and telling a reporter. Think what a coup it would be. Doing it this way, we have some control over the flow of information. You can give exclusives to reporters who will treat your experience with sensitivity, say ‘No comment’ to everyone else. We’ll hold a press conference, then ask everyone to give you and the Lawsons the privacy you need to come to terms with this new reality.”
He’d always thought the idea of drowning in someone’s eyes was idiotic. Unable to look away from her, he discovered different.
“But...my life,” she whispered.
He had to say this. “Will never be the same.”
“Oh, God,” she said again. Her struggle to regain her balance was visible. “I should never have told you my name. I could have made one up. Then I could dye my hair. Wear colored contacts. I could still do that,” she said on a rising note.
He didn’t say anything.
Defeat flattened her expression. It was a long moment before she nodded. She bowed her head and seemed to notice their linked hands for the first time.
He gently disengaged them, however reluctant he was to sever the connection.
“When you called her, why didn’t you tell Mrs. Lawson you’d found me?” she asked suddenly. “They probably think you’re bringing bad news.”
“Me finding your body wouldn’t have been bad news.” He frowned. “It would have hurt in one way, but been a relief in another. They’d have had closure, at least.”
“I can understand that,” she conceded.
“The answer to your question is, I don’t know.” He heard his own uncertainty. “Maybe I just want to see their faces.” And it could be that was the answer. He’d worked hard to effect this reunion. Usually his greatest reward was to make an arrest, then see the jury foreman step up and say, “Guilty as charged.” He hadn’t been able to wall out Karen Lawson’s pain as effectively as he usually did. Seeing her joy—he needed that.
“Okay.” She sat tensely as he backed out of the slot, then drove across town. The sheriff’s department headquarters was on the outskirts of Stimson, the county seat that still had a population of only thirty-five thousand or so. The Lawsons had never moved from the house they’d lived in when their daughter was snatched. He’d read and knew from experience that was usual. People believed they had to be there when their missing family member magically made his or her way home. There was probably a subconscious fear that, if they weren’t there, everything as much the same as possible, the lost one wouldn’t be able to find them.
He stole glances at Bailey Smith, sitting marble still and almost as pale, staring straight ahead through the windshield. Scared to death and refusing to show it, he diagnosed. She didn’t like giving away what she felt.
And him, he kept watching for every tiny giveaway. His heart had taken up an unnaturally fast rhythm from the minute she turned around and their eyes met. He’d felt as if he’d taken a blow to the chest. Attraction multiplied times a thousand, an unfamiliar hunger to know everything about her, to soothe her fears and heal her wounds, a breathtaking need to protect her—and pounding at him the whole time was terror that she’d walk away before... What?
I can find out whether she might feel the same. Even close to the same.
“Here we are,” he said quietly, pulling to a stop in front of a nice two-story white Colonial-style house with dark green shutters. He was willing to bet the Lawsons had never even considered changing so much as the shade of green on the trim when they repainted. Kirk Lawson’s pickup was in the driveway. Lawson’s Auto Body, it said on the door. So Karen had called him to come home, as Seth had suggested.
Bailey’s head had turned and she stared now at the house where she’d grown up. Her breathing had quickened. She might swear she didn’t remember the house at all, but he wondered.
Seth turned off the engine but sat there, ready to give her all the time she needed. A minute passed. Two. Mercifully, the front door didn’t open and he didn’t see anyone at the front window. Probably they hadn’t heard the car out in front.
“You okay?” he asked at last.
“I...yes.” She drew in a deep breath she probably meant to be steadying. “Yes,” she said again, sounding a little more sure.
“Ready?”
Bailey nodded and reached for the door handle.
He met her on the sidewalk and stayed close on the way to the front door. After ringing the bell, he laid a hand on her back. He’d have sworn she leaned into it, just the slightest bit.
After the deep gong, he heard nothing until the door swung open. It was Kirk who looked through the screen door at him before switching his gaze to Bailey. Utter shock transformed his rugged face. “Dear God in heaven,” he choked out.
“May we come in?” Seth asked.
He pushed open the screen, his gaze devouring Bailey. “Hope?” Then he gave his head a shake. “Come in. Karen!” he bellowed.
They stepped into the living room. His wife appeared from the direction of the kitchen. She was braced for bad news, Seth saw, in the instant before she set eyes on her daughter, resurrected, and came to a stop.
And yes, everything he’d hoped to see blazed forth on her face, making him realize that most lines on it had been formed by grief.
“Hope?” she said tremulously. She took a few steps forward then stopped as if disbelieving. Tears brimmed in her eyes and overflowed. “It is you. It is. Oh, Kirk! Hope is home.”
Seth laid a seemingly casual hand on Bailey’s shoulder. Despite his focus on the two Lawsons, he was attuned to her, not them. Aware of her shock as she saw her mother’s face, so much like her own. Felt when the waves of emotion hit her, as she absorbed the yearning in these strangers’ eyes.
Seth cleared his throat. “I do believe this is Hope. That’s why I brought her to meet you. We will need DNA confirmation. You know that.”
Predictably, Karen shook her head, not looking away from her daughter. “Of course this is Hope.” A smile burst forth despite the tears, and she hurried forward, holding out her hands. “Oh, my dear. Thank God. You don’t know what this means to us.”
Bailey shrank toward Seth. “I...it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She turned her head. “Both of you.”
Karen stopped short of flinging her arms around the alarmed young woman. “Meet us? You don’t remember us?”
“I’m afraid not. I...it’s astonishing how much I look like you.” She sounded stunned. “I... I’ve blocked so much out. I suppose I couldn’t let myself remember.”
“That’s why you never came home. Because you didn’t know where we were.”
Seth squeezed Bailey’s shoulder in reassurance. “Why don’t we sit down?”
“Yes. Oh, yes!” Karen gestured them toward the sofa. “Oh, my dear. This has to be the best day of my life, except possibly when you were born.”
Seth understood the sentiment, but was damn glad Eve wasn’t here to hear it expressed.
Bailey cast him a single, desperate glance as they sat, side by side. He smiled at her, hoping to convey without words that she was doing great.
Hoping. He’d never be able to use any variant of that word again without seeing her in his mind’s eye.
Karen tore her gaze from Bailey long enough to beam at him. “You brought her home. You accomplished a miracle.”
He had. He still felt shell-shocked. He’d found Hope. Or, at least, cast the right lure to draw her home.
Uneasiness stirred, because he knew she didn’t think of this house or this town as home. He hadn’t asked yet where she lived, what her life was like, thinking they had more than enough to deal with. She didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved with a man. She could have kids. Who knew?
If she had a guy in her life, where the hell was he? Seth thought savagely. No man who loved her would have let her do this alone.
“Will you...will you tell us about yourself?” Karen said timidly, seemingly still not realizing her face was wet with tears even as it glowed with joy.
Kirk sat heavily in an armchair. Seth had the impression he hadn’t once taken his eyes off Bailey. Both waited expectantly for her answer.
“Well... I live in Southern California. My name...” She floundered at their expressions, but squared her shoulders. “It’s Bailey Smith.” She hurried on, as if to be sure they didn’t have a chance to comment. “I’ve held all kinds of jobs since I graduated from high school, but I’m currently waitressing because I can do it nights and weekends. I’m about to start my senior year of college. A little late, but I finally got there.” Her lips had a wry twist. “Majoring in psychology. I don’t know what I want to do with it, but getting a degree feels...important.” She lifted her chin a little higher. “I wanted to make something of myself.”
“That’s wonderful.” Karen beamed some more. “What school are you in?”
Seth’s hand had been on his thigh, but he moved it to the sofa cushion where his knuckles just touched Bailey’s thigh. He waited for her to inch away, but she didn’t.
“USC,” she said. “Um, the University of Southern California.” She smiled weakly. “Go Trojans. Although I’m not really into sports.”
“Your father watches football and baseball—”
They all heard the front door open.
“Mom? Dad, why are you home?” Eve entered the living room, worry on her face. “There’s a police car here.” She stopped dead, her gaze moving from her father to her mother to Seth—and stopping on Bailey. Something dark entered her eyes. “I see.” She sounded almost casual. “The real daughter returns.”
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_5d854901-8a88-5e06-be0c-3532a140409d)
BAILEY HUGGED HERSELF as Seth drove. “They still have my bed.” Why that blew her away, of all things, she had no idea, but it did.
She felt his swift glance. “I don’t think they changed a thing in your bedroom.”
“The whole room is pink.”
“You were only six. Little girls like pink and purple.”
She stole a look at him. “How do you know? Do you have children?”
Unless it was her imagination, his mouth curved. Because he liked knowing she was curious about him? “No children. Never been married. I have two nieces and friends who have kids.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “I always pictured this perfect bedroom.” Her voice sounded faraway, bemused. “It was pink, and I had a canopy bed. Like a princess.”
“You did.”
“So... I was actually remembering.” She was stunned to know those dreams had really been memories. Standing in the door of that bedroom had left her shaken in a way the faces of her parents hadn’t. And how weird was that?
As if he understood, Seth said, “Memories are odd. Unpredictable. A couple of my very earliest memories are of semitraumatic moments, which makes sense. Others are totally random. Why do I remember standing at the foot of a staircase in what my mother tells me was probably my great-grandmother’s house, feeling really small? It’s just a snapshot, but vivid. Couldn’t have been an earth-shattering moment. For you, maybe you really loved having a bed with a canopy.”
She gave a funny, broken laugh that didn’t sound like her at all. “I did. I mean, I don’t know that, but I used to think about what my bedroom would look like if I ever had a home. You know. I’d change the wall color as I got older, but the bed was always there.” She sighed. “I hurt their feelings, didn’t I?”
“When you wouldn’t stay?”
And sleep in that canopy bed, the idea of which had freaked her out. As in, if she’d tried, she just knew she’d have run screaming into the night. More irrationality—it wasn’t as if she’d been snatched from her bedroom and therefore had trauma associated with it.
“Or even agree to stay for dinner. And when I didn’t fall into their arms.”
“Maybe,” he said, driving with relaxed competence. “But they’re so happy that you’re alive, they’ll get over it. My impression is they’re good people. They probably had fantasies. They’ll adjust to the reality, which is that you’re essentially strangers. Any sense of family or intimacy will have to be built from the ground up.”
Bailey bowed her head and stared at her hands. “I don’t know if I want to join the construction crew.”
He was quiet for a minute, a small frown furrowing his forehead. But he looked thoughtful, not irritated.
“Why did you come here?” he asked. “What changed your mind?”
Would he understand if she admitted she didn’t know? That she’d have sworn her original decision had been final, except that knowing she could find out who she’d been had nibbled at her until she’d finally decided to make this trip?
“Curiosity,” she said at last. All she was willing to admit to.
He made a sound in his throat she couldn’t interpret.
“You in school right now?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I didn’t sign up for summer semester. It gave me a chance to work a lot more hours and save for the tuition. Fall semester starts the last week of August.” Which was a month away. She added hastily, “I should get back to my job, though.”
“How long did you tell them you’d be gone?”
“I...left it sort of open-ended.”
