Читать книгу Cries in the Night - Debra Webb - Страница 13

Ryan sat on the side of the bed and stared at the telephone, waiting for the minutes to tick off. Bill would call Mel this morning and explain the latest turn of events. Ryan had asked him not to mention the picture until after he had interviewed Rita Grider, the friend who identified the child’s body. He didn’t want to raise additional hope that might not pan out.

Mel would be mad as hell when she found out he’d hidden any aspect of the case from her, but it was necessary. Not only would it prevent further hurt if things didn’t turn out the right way, but it would avoid any additional distraction. Keeping her focused was difficult enough without adding another layer of false hope.

He watched as the digital clock on the bedside table next to the telephone clicked off one more minute, 7:29 a.m. He’d been up all night, hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Staying put until this morning had been almost more than he could manage. He’d wanted to view the body of the funeral home attendant, Garland Hanes. He’d wanted to scour every square inch of the scene where he’d been found. But somebody had screwed up and gone through the steps at the scene, including moving the body, before realizing the victim was tied to this case. Bill hadn’t gotten the call until after the body was already at the morgue. Taking all that into consideration going directly to the scene in the dark and rain hadn’t made much sense.

It hadn’t, however, kept Ryan from taking that run he’d decided upon before Bill’s visit. He’d run until he’d exhausted himself, thrown his damp clothes to the bathroom floor and stood under a long, hot shower. Despite the depletion of adrenaline he still hadn’t been able to sleep.

Now he only waited to make the one call necessary to his continued participation in this case. Afterward, he had one stop to make before rendezvousing with Bill at the scene where Hanes’s body had been discovered by two teenagers. The clock’s digital readout blinked to 7:30.

Victoria Colby was almost always in her office by 7:30, he hoped today would prove no different. He punched in the proper series of numbers and waited through the first ring.

“The Colby Agency.”

Mildred. “Good morning, Mildred, this is Ryan Braxton.” Victoria’s loyal secretary was the first to arrive and the last to leave every day that the agency doors opened.

“Ryan, how are things in Memphis? You know I’ve always wanted to visit Graceland.”

He would never have taken Mildred for an Elvis fan, but, hey, she could fool the best CIA interrogator if she so chose. “Things are complicated,” he offered. “This case looks like it might take a while and…” He hesitated, knowing this was the point of no return. “I’ve decided to stay on and see it through.”

“I understand,” she said knowingly. “I’ll put you through to Victoria.”

There were no secrets kept from Mildred. She had a handle on everyone and everything that involved the agency.

“Ryan, it’s good to hear from you. Have you learned anything new?”

The sound of Victoria’s voice proved oddly calming. He couldn’t say for sure precisely what it was, maybe the fact that she had believed in him when he’d felt certain total burnout loomed just around the corner. Or perhaps it was merely because she somehow seemed to sympathize with what had made him have to walk away from his past. Whatever the case, Victoria understood.

“The funeral home attendant’s body was found last night.” Ryan scrubbed a hand over his face, only then realizing that he hadn’t shaved. He frowned, wondering how he could forget something he’d done every day since his junior year in high school. “There was a photograph of—the child—which would indicate she was alive at the time it was taken.”

Victoria paused, then said, “Can you verify that assumption?”

“We’re gonna try.”

Another pause. “I see.” The sound of leather shifting crinkled across the line as she apparently reclined fully into her high-back executive’s chair. Ryan had watched her do that dozens of times as she’d considered the ramifications of whatever she’d just been told. “You’ve decided to participate in the case, then?”

He drew in a heavy breath and released it slowly before responding. She had to know how difficult a decision this was for him. “It’s the only thing I can do. I can’t just walk away…she needs me.”

“You’re doing the right thing. We can get by without you for a while. Research will certainly miss your eye for detail, but we’ll manage.” She didn’t have to say, but he knew she understood that the she he used referred to Mel as much as it did the missing child.

When he’d initially applied to the agency, Victoria had offered him the position of investigator, but he’d declined. The idea of dealing with real people no longer appealed to him. He much preferred working with facts and hypothesized scenarios. He’d had enough of investigative work for two lifetimes. But he had to do this one last thing…he had to do it for Mel. And the kid.

“I’ll keep you up to speed on my progress if you’d like, though this isn’t an official Colby Agency case.” He wasn’t sure of proper protocol under the circumstances. He would be working under the Bureau’s umbrella.

“I’d like that very much,” she said without hesitation. This time there was something different in her voice, something besides the usual confidence and determination.

Another frown inched its way across Ryan’s brow. He had the distinct feeling that Victoria was holding something back. Before he could pursue the thought, she spoke again.

“What are the chances you’ll find this child… alive?”

There was a definite quality of uncertainty in her tone now. He considered her question. It was the same one he’d been asked a thousand times before in his old life at the Bureau. His answer was always the same. “Slim to none.” The statement was blunt and cold, as he’d intended it. The worst thing a man in his position could do was engender false hope. He’d seen others do it, only to watch the families of victims fall apart later when things turned out badly. He never went that route.

“How is Miss Jackson holding up?”

It wasn’t until that moment when he heard Victoria say Miss Jackson that two things struck Ryan. Why was Mel still single? And why did her child carry her surname? Why not the father’s? Mel was too careful to, without due consideration, get involved with a guy on that level. She never acted before she analyzed the situation. That’s why she hadn’t become Mrs. Ryan Braxton two years ago. She’d considered what he offered, assessed the data and concluded that it wasn’t enough. How had she managed to end up a single parent?

“As well as can be expected,” he said in answer to Victoria’s question. “This is the worst thing that can happen to any parent. There’s no way to accurately describe the sheer torment she’ll endure.” He closed his eyes and wished for one long moment that he could make it go away. No matter that she’d obviously run into another man’s arms when she left him, she was still Mel. The woman he’d loved…the woman he’d lost.

“Don’t hesitate to call if this agency can do anything at all to help.”

Again he heard the vulnerability in the usually strong woman. “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

When the call ended, Ryan was sure of one thing. Victoria Colby understood this situation a little too well. He didn’t know how or why, but in one capacity or another she had been in this very situation. The Colby Agency had worked a number of cases involving missing children…or maybe it was more personal. Maybe he’d look into that theory.

Then again, if she wanted him to know her personal business she would tell him. The best thing he could do was keep his mind on the matter at hand.

His own entirely too-personal business.

VICTORIA COLBY sat very still and prayed the horrifying sensations would pass.

The past had been catching up with her for a while now. No matter how she tried to push the memories away, they somehow managed to surface. She found it especially difficult anytime a case involved a missing or endangered child. Her mind went automatically to Trevor Sloan. She remembered well what he’d gone through losing his son. But his story had had a happy ending that included finding his son as well as saving Rachel Larson’s son. They all lived happily ever after as a family down in Mexico. She recalled Nick and Laura Foster. Their child had been missing. Again, fortunately for all involved, they’d found the boy unharmed. Most recently, Pierce Maxwell had discovered he was to be a father. He’d had to race against time to save his child from those who would have used that innocent life to further their own goals.

But there wasn’t always a happy ending.

Despite everything she could do tears welled in her eyes, emotion clogged her throat. Some children were lost forever. No clues…no bodies were ever found to give closure to their cases. To allow the families left behind to move on.

Victoria knew exactly how that felt. Her son’s body had never been found. For eighteen long years she had harbored hope. In the beginning, she and James had exhausted every means to find him. But seven-year-old Jimmy was nowhere to be found. He’d simply vanished, not leaving a trace.

Only three years after he’d disappeared, James had been murdered. Victoria closed her eyes to hold back the tears. She surely would not have survived that blow had it not been for Lucas. Once she’d buried her husband, she’d turned back to the one thing she could cling to: this agency. She had worked hard to make it what it was today and along the way she’d never given up on finding Jimmy…at least for the first dozen or so years.

It had been easy to maintain that sprout of hope then. She’d been fully engrossed in building the agency, so she never had time to allow reality to sink in. Then she’d had to face the facts. After nearly two decades, Jimmy wasn’t going to be found, dead or alive. He wasn’t coming back. Again, Lucas had gotten her through that black time.

And still, here she was once more, reliving the past. Allowing hope to glimmer…wondering what her son might be doing now and if he looked as much like his father now as he had at seven. It was foolish…a waste of time.

James Colby was dead. James Colby, Jr., was dead, as well.

But she was alive.

Victoria pushed to her feet and squared her shoulders. She would not dwell on the past for another moment. She could not change history. God knew that if she could, she would. She would give her life for her son’s this minute…this very second if it would bring him back.

But nothing was bringing him back. He was gone.

Forever.

Her heart thundering in her chest, she skirted the desk and walked out to Mildred’s desk. “I think I’ll step out,” she said, her chin tilted at an angle that dared her secretary to question her reasons.

Mildred looked taken aback or maybe she was just surprised since Victoria rarely left the office for anything once she arrived. “If you’re waiting for an argument,” Mildred offered sagely, “you’ll get none from me. The weather is beautiful.” She waved a hand toward the bank of elevators in invitation. “Have a nice walk.”

Victoria’s palms were sweating and that foolish heart of hers just kept beating harder and harder. She felt flushed and chilled to the bone at the same time. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d suffered from a panic attack, and, yet, this felt exactly like the onslaught of one.

“When Ian arrives let him know that I’ll be back in an hour or so.” Her throat had gone bone dry and the room tilted just a little.

Victoria railed at herself for showing weakness. She was made of stronger stuff than this. She found it hard to believe that the Melany Jackson case had undone her so thoroughly. Where was that steel armor she generally wore? That hard-earned determination?

Vivid flashes of memory cut through her thoughts as she waited for the elevator car to arrive. She squeezed her eyes shut to block the visions but she just couldn’t stop the images. Her little boy running, the sun glinting against his dark hair. His toys scattered haphazardly around his room. And then that moment—that soul shattering moment—when she’d realized he was gone.

She’d only looked away for mere seconds. The telephone had rung and she’d hurried to answer it. But when she’d looked through the kitchen window to see that Jimmy hadn’t wandered from the kid-size fort he and his father had built in the backyard he’d been gone. It hadn’t taken her more than thirty or forty seconds to step from the yard to the kitchen to grab the telephone. She’d stretched the long cord until she could watch him through the window while she talked.

But he was already gone.

Despite every security measure they’d taken.

In the blink of an eye.

Gone forever.

The room spun wildly and Victoria clutched at the wall to no avail. She marveled briefly at the glittering colors that exploded before her eyes and then the lights went out.

VICTORIA DIDN’T dare move when her mind turned itself back on. She tried to think but couldn’t. Where was she? What happened? And then she remembered. She opened her eyes very slowly, hoping to diminish the spinning in her head.

“Ah, there you are,” a kindly male voice said softly.

She concentrated on focusing her vision for a few seconds before it actually worked. Her brain had obviously kicked back into gear since she recognized the voice. Kyle. Dr. Kyle Pendelton. What was he doing here?

She tried to sit up but he held her still. “Not just yet, Victoria,” he said with uncharacteristic sternness.

“What happened?” She looked around the room to get her bearings. The office lounge. She was lying on the sofa in the lounge. Kyle sat in a chair that had been pulled close. He peered down at her now, concern marring his attractive features.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” he responded with clear accusation in his tone. “The last time we spoke I was under the impression that you intended to take a vacation. That you were going to start working fewer hours.”

Oh, God, Mildred had been running off at the mouth again. Victoria would have rolled her eyes had she possessed the necessary strength. But, as it was, she felt too weak to breathe, much less argue the point.

“She never leaves the office before six,” a voice piped up.

Victoria did manage a scowl this time. The voice belonged to a loose-lipped traitor. “Mildred, we’ll discuss this later,” she said with as much intimidation as she could muster.

Mildred harrumphed. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

Victoria felt the blood pressure cuff tighten on her arm, the squeezing sensation accompanied by the wheeze of the pump. “Your numbers are still a little higher than I’d like,” Kyle interjected. “Arguing isn’t going to help lower them.”

“I’ll just get back to my desk,” Mildred said petulantly, but paused at the door. “Talk some sense into her, Doc. God knows we’ve all tried.”

As the door opened and then closed Victoria caught a glimpse of Ian Michaels and Trent Tucker, two of her investigators, holding vigil outside. What a fool she was. All this worry and excitement because of her stupidity.

“I’m sorry they called you in, Kyle,” she said wearily. “I’m fine, really.”

He arched a speculative brow. “I can see that.” He settled his stethoscope into place and listened to her heart, encouraging her to breathe deeply from time to time and effectively putting a halt to further conversation for a bit.

When he’d removed the instrument and laid it aside, she told him the truth. “I let this new case get to me. That’s all. I’ll be fine in a little while. There’s nothing weak about me. I’m as strong as an ox. I’ll bounce back from this just like I always do.” Kyle was one she’d left off her list of those who understood what it was like to lose everything. He’d lost his wife and child to a vicious animal who still rotted in prison. Of all people, he would understand how she felt.

He took her hand in his. “Victoria, I know how strong you are and stubborn as the proverbial mule. But I also know what you go through every single day of your life.” He leveled those solemn brown eyes on hers. “I do exactly the same thing. Work, sleep, eat. You and I do all those things that are expected of us. And, if we’re lucky, the monotony will distract from the reality of the gaping hole in our hearts.”

Victoria blinked furiously. Dammit, she would not cry. She couldn’t do this…not now with Kyle watching. She’d made a big enough fool of herself already this morning.