the tears and leaned her forehead against her niece’s. “I know,” she said huskily.
“Where’s Daddy? I mean, is he with Mommy?”
“Yeah. He’s with Mommy.”
The silence was so long, Jane began to hope Alexis had fallen asleep. Somehow she doubted it, though; even through the covers, she could feel the tension in the slight body.
“Why won’t Mommy wake up?”
“Mommy had a really bad bump on her head. You remember the time Bree fell off her bike and she had that great big lump that looked like an egg and we had to take her to the hospital?”
Alexis nodded slightly.
“Well, this is a bump way worse than that. Sergeant Renner thinks your mom’s car was going really fast when it went off the road.”
“Mommy always said if she was in a...a accident, this humongous balloon would puff up so nobody was hurt.” She sounded indignant.
“The balloon is called an air bag. And they work really well, except they only puff up in certain kinds of accidents. Like if your mom’s car had hit a tree. But the way the car tilted kept the air bag from puffing up.”
The “oh” was sad. After a minute, “When will Daddy come home?”
“I think he might be here when you get up in the morning. He misses you, pumpkin.”
“Okay.”
Feeling Alexis slowly relax until, finally, her breathing became deep and regular, Jane thought about Drew’s terrible dilemma. Did he stay at Melissa’s side, willing her to open her eyes? Or did he go home to comfort his youngest daughter, so terrified because, in her perception, almost everyone in her family had disappeared?
Jane was only glad she could be here. She’d already decided that if they didn’t find Bree tomorrow, she would pack a bag and come to stay. She’d take days off from work, too, as much as she had to. That way she could offer Alexis some stability and Drew the relief of knowing she was being taken care of. She could take care of him, too. Cook dinners, that kind of thing, even though she wasn’t exactly Susie Homemaker.
Once she was sure Alexis was sleeping soundly, Jane slipped off the bed and out of the room, leaving the door half ajar so she’d be able to hear the little girl if she awakened. The twin bed was way too small for the two of them to share, and Jane’s adrenaline ran too high for her to be sleepy yet anyway.
What she wanted was to be hunting for Bree, but she knew she was lucky that Clay had involved her as much as he had so far. He didn’t have any obligation to. And as much as she hated it, he was right that family members were always the first suspects when an act of violence or an apparent abduction happened. And what had she done but told him, so brilliantly, that she and her sister weren’t getting along very well. If she hadn’t been at work when the accident occurred, he’d have had to consider her; she knew that. Considering that she didn’t like him, she was disconcerted by the sting she felt at the idea that he’d readily suspect her of hurting her own sister, or her niece.
He’d said he didn’t as if the idea was ludicrous, but...she didn’t know whether to believe him.
He’d seemed angry at her when she’d last seen him at the hospital. Was that because she’d been too honest about Lissa, and he’d realized he had discounted her possible involvement too quickly?
I don’t care what he thinks about me as long as he does his job, she thought fiercely. As long as he finds Bree.
But...she knew that wasn’t true. She did care. She could have cared a whole lot, if only he had turned out to be the man she’d believed he was.
That thought felt like grief, heavy in her chest, not so different from her fear for Lissa and Bree and her sadness for Alexis.
Something she so didn’t need.
* * *
IT WAS PROBABLY too late to call Jane. Clay didn’t even know why he wanted to. He’d seen plenty of her today, God knows. But after he’d left the hospital, as the evening and then the night had crawled on, he kept thinking about her. Wondering whether she was still there, or had gone home, or...?
He reached his own place, a log cabin on the outskirts of Little Elk, a town too small even to have a post office. He loved the quiet and the peace here, and had looked forward to showing Jane his home.
Yeah, well, that wasn’t happening.
He parked his Jeep Grand Cherokee in the carport attached to one side of the cabin and got out. The moon was heading toward full now, and the silver illumination cast shadows from the tall pines. He’d never installed a motion-activated light; there was enough wildlife around here that it would have been popping on all the time. As he walked toward the front door, he heard a soft hoot. A welcome home, or a complaint because he’d disturbed the night?
He let himself in, not bothering to turn on the porch light or a light in the main room. Instead he made his way by habit to the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of milk and downed it in a few swallows, hoping it would soothe the acid in his stomach. Too many cups of coffee today. Had to be that, and not the gut-churning emotions he’d felt every time he looked at Jane or thought of her.
The clock on the stove told him it was 11:19 p.m. Maybe not too late to call? As scared as she was, would Jane really have dropped into a peaceful sleep by now?
Clay didn’t know why he felt such a hunger to talk to her. He didn’t have anything that qualified as real news to share, but...he wanted to hear her voice, to know she was okay.
He was dialing before he could have second thoughts.
Jane answered on the second ring. “Clay?” Her voice rang with anxiety.
“Nothing new,” he told her hastily. “I just, uh, thought I’d check in. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“No. Of course not.” She hesitated. “I’m at Lissa’s with Alexis. So Drew could stay at the hospital.”
“He’s planning to stay all night?”
“I don’t know. He shouldn’t. He has to get some rest sometime. But I offered to pick up Alexis and tuck her in. She’d already had dinner with the neighbor.”
“Did you have dinner?” he asked, leaning back against the knotty pine kitchen cabinets.
There was a moment of silence. “I’m not hungry.”
“I know it’s hard when you’re scared, but you should have something.”
“Maybe.”
He sought for something else to say. “Alexis okay?”
“Not really. It was—” She broke off, or maybe her voice had broken. “Um, she wanted to talk about why her mommy hadn’t opened her eyes, and she was hoping I’d promise to bring Bree home tomorrow.”
“She’s five, right?”
“Right. She’s supposed to start kindergarten
