slipped it out to see who was calling.
Mom.
For a second, Violet froze. Oh, man. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do right now was pick up. She’d been shooting Mom drive-by texts since leaving Chile, telling her not to worry. Of course, Violet hadn’t told her where she was going. She’d left Mom to figure out that part on her own.
The vibrating stopped. The call had rolled to voice mail.
Mom would be in a panic, Violet knew and felt bad. She should shoot another text to keep Mom from having a total meltdown. But Violet couldn’t. Not right now. Not when she was stalking her dad. If she took her eyes off him for a second, she might lose him.
The vibrating started again.
Mom would know that Violet’s phone was on since it took so long to go to voice mail. She’d know Violet was ignoring the call. Or, knowing Mom, she’d think Violet was being held captive by some pervert and couldn’t pick up the call. Or, even worse, that she was dead.
Argh.
She hit the talk button. “I’m alive, Mom.”
The dead silence that greeted her from the other end of the phone swelled so loud that Violet felt guiltier than she’d ever felt in her life. She breathed a sigh that had nothing to do with how fast she was walking.
“Mom, I’m okay.”
More silence. Now her dad was approaching a big intersection, so Violet had to hang for a sec to see what he did. And pay attention because there were lots of cars zipping up and down this street.
“Violet.” Mom totally didn’t sound like Mom.
“I’m perfectly okay, so please stop worrying.”
“You’re safe.”
“Totally.”
If one didn’t count crossing a busy street against the light. But her dad was crossing when there was a break in the traffic—some chief of police!—so Violet had no choice.
“I know you’re going to kill me.” She cut right to the chase. “I’ll probably be grounded forever, but please give me a chance to explain—”
“Violet, we can discuss everything when I get there,” Mom shot back, suddenly sounding like Mom again. “Right now all I’m interested in is your safety and your location.”
“I’m in New Orleans—”
“I know you’re in New Orleans, and I’m glad you’re okay. Where are you in New Orleans?”
Mom did not want coordinates. Oh, man. Here goes…
“With Dad.” Violet watched the figure in the distance, still slipping in and out of the light from the streetlamps.
“You’re with your father now?”
“Yes.” Sort of, anyway.
“Okay.” More silence. “You’ll be safe until I get there?”
“You don’t have to come—”
“Violet Nicole Bell, I’m not sure what part of this you think is acceptable, but—”
“Violet Nicole Bell DiLeo. You forgot—”
“I did not forget anything, young lady.”
Whoa! Violet pulled the phone from her ear and glanced at it. She’d never heard that tone before.
“I would have explained if you’d given me the chance,” Mom continued, her voice a raw whisper. “All you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to put your safety at risk by running away.”
“Really, Mom? Really?” The words were out of Violet’s mouth before she could stop them. “Like I haven’t traveled before.”
“We’ll discuss this in person. Now please put your father on. And don’t vanish. I’ll speak with you when we’re through.”
Violet didn’t have a chance to respond because one second her dad was in front of her and the next he was gone. Oh, man. She was lagging because she wasn’t paying attention. Did he turn the corner? She started to run.
“Dad can’t talk right now. Can we call you back?”
“First give me the details about where you’re staying, and a phone number, too—”
“Gotta go. Battery’s dying.” She tried not to sound winded, but she was starting to breath heavy. “I’ll charge my phone and call you back, okay?”
“Violet, don’t—”
Click.
Calling back wasn’t okay. That much Violet knew, but she had to find her dad before she lost him completely.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” she whispered, even though Mom wasn’t there to hear her.
CHAPTER TWO
MEGAN BELL SANK INTO the chair, relief sapping every drop of strength from her legs. She stared disbelieving at the BlackBerry as the display darkened.
Violet.
Then she let her eyes flutter shut, blocked out everything but the sound of her daughter’s voice, impatient, irritable, alive… Okay, Violet was alive.
Start there, Megan, she warned herself. Don’t get too far ahead here. Violet’s alive.
Since this whole nightmare began, Megan had received three texts. She’d tracked credit card purchases to piece together a trajectory that had her daughter heading to New Orleans of all places, but until she’d heard Violet’s voice…
“Take a deep breath, dear, and tell me what she said.”
Megan did exactly that then forced herself to open her eyes to find Marie looking as relieved as Megan felt. As always, Marie’s presence had a calming effect.
A slender, stately woman with bright white hair that fell in gentle waves around her face, Marie Gleason was an honorary grandmother to Violet and dearest friend in the world to Megan. She was such an important part of their lives, in fact, that after her husband had passed away nearly six years ago, she’d come to live with Megan and Violet, traveling to whatever part of the world Megan’s job took them. As a project consultant for nonprofit organizations, she worked all over the world.
“I’m good.” She forced the words out, as much to reassure Marie as to convince herself. “Violet’s with… him.”
Too many years had passed for Megan to wrap her mouth around his name so easily. Years of mental preparation to explain the situation to Violet about why she’d chosen not to tell him about his daughter. But all Megan’s careful preparation for an unavoidable conversation was wasted since she hadn’t anticipated the impulsivity of a headstrong teenager.
Marie
