Deanna when their mother left them with their auntie Jean that day so long ago. Callie had offered assurances that their mother was okay and would keep her promise. She was fiercely protective of her younger sisters, always stepping in when anyone gave them any hassle.
A smile touched Natalie’s lips as she vividly recalled Callie charging up to Allan Cobb the day after he’d snapped the head off of Natalie’s favorite doll at school. Callie had pushed the nine-year-old class bully into a puddle of mud in front of a crowd—not caring that it meant a trip to the principal’s office. Callie never regretted her actions, because as a result Allan never bothered Natalie again.
As a teen, Callie had joined all kinds of groups to help those in need, and proudly protested against injustice. She wasn’t the kind of person who could sit back and do nothing with so much inequality in the world.
From what Natalie understood, Callie’s best friend, Tamara, had been in trouble—the woman’s possessive ex posed a threat to her life—and Callie had done what came naturally to her. She immediately took a flight to Florida to help her friend, only to find herself in the middle of a domestic dispute.
“So you really don’t need us to come down there?” Deanna asked.
“Wait a minute,” Deanna suddenly said, her tone of voice changing to shock. “What?”
Natalie paused in her pacing to stare at her sister with interest.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Deanna’s eyes bulged as she drew in a horrified gasp. “No, Nigel. No…”
“What is it?” Natalie asked. Though her heart was already racing. In the minutes that Nigel had been talking to Deanna, had Callie’s situation taken a turn for the worse?
“Rodney Cook,” Deanna said, mentioning the name of their mother’s ex-boyfriend, the one Miriam Hart had been running from. “Nigel just said that he was stabbed in prison yesterday!”
The words were like a physical blow to Natalie’s stomach. Rodney Cook had been stabbed? The one man who could provide the clues that would lead to finding their mother?
“No,” Natalie wailed. “God, no. Not after finally locating him! Is he dead?”
Deanna held up a hand to silence Natalie as she listened diligently to what Nigel was saying.
After their auntie Jean’s passing, Natalie and her sisters had learned of a letter their aunt had left for them, one that gave all of them hope that their mother was alive somewhere. For Natalie, the letter had proven what she’d always believed in her heart—that their mother wouldn’t just up and leave them without a compelling reason.
And it turned out that their mother had left to protect them, because she’d been dating a guy who was involved in criminal activity, someone she had planned to testify against. Testifying against that kind of person could have dire repercussions, not just for the witness, but also for anyone the witness cared about. Miriam knew that Rodney might try to retaliate against her children as a way to punish her, so she had left her children with her sister in order to protect them.
The problem was, Rodney Cook was the only person they knew of who might know their mother’s whereabouts and the friends she’d had twenty-three years ago when she’d taken Natalie and her sisters from Cincinnati to Cleveland to stay with their aunt.
“So he’s going to be okay?” Deanna asked. “Because he can’t die…not before we even have a chance to talk to him!”
Natalie held her breath as she waited for Deanna to say more.
“Thank God,” Deanna finally uttered. Then to Natalie she said, “Nigel says Rodney is alive, and they’re keeping him in a guarded hospital room. Nigel stressed to the authorities there that Rodney needs to stay alive.”
Natalie simply nodded, her heart pounding furiously from the moment of fright that their only lead regarding their mother had just been lost.
“All I can say is that it definitely pays to have a cop in the family,” Deanna went on. “Maybe we can all head to California to question him.”
There was silence, and then Deanna shook her head. “No, of course not. We wouldn’t think of going anywhere until you’re back with Callie.” Deanna paused and her eyes misted. “No, let her get her rest. Tell her we love her and we’ll talk to her a bit later. Bye, Nigel.”
When Deanna hung up, Natalie went to her sister and took her hands in hers. Her own eyes filled with tears as she squeezed Deanna’s hands. “Good Lord, what a crazy twenty-four hours.”
“Tell me about it,” Deanna agreed.
“But at least the news is good on both fronts. Callie is going to be fine, and it sounds like Rodney will be, too.”
“Mercury must be in retrograde,” Deanna commented.
“Huh?”
“You know…astrology.” When Natalie looked at her blankly, Deanna said, “Forget it.”
Ah, that’s right, Natalie mused, a memory coming to her. Deanna and her horoscopes. She’d been into astrology as a young teen, always blaming the good or bad in her life on how the planets had aligned.
“The bottom line is, even though bad things happened today, the outcome is still positive,” Deanna said. “God was watching out for Callie. And for Rodney.”
“Exactly,” Natalie agreed. “The positive happened for a reason. It’s a sign from above that we have to keep believing. And I believe it, Deanna.” Natalie’s throat filled with emotion. “We’re going to find our mother—after all these years!”
Deanna nodded, but her expression instantly changed from excited to cautious. “I want to believe that, but—”
“Then believe it,” Natalie told her. “We can’t allow ourselves to think the worst.”
For Natalie, Rodney surviving the stabbing was further proof that they would find their mother. She knew that her sisters were more wary in general, fearing that their mother might not be found alive. After all, twenty-three years had passed since she had left them with their aunt. According to Callie, that was enough time for her to come out of hiding, no matter how afraid she was.
Natalie had to believe otherwise, that her mother had good reason to continue to stay out of their lives. And not because she was cold in a grave somewhere.
She could accept nothing else.
The doorbell rang. Deanna hurried through the kitchen exit, saying, “I’ll get it.”
Moments later, she said, “Natalie, it’s for you.”
“Me?” Natalie asked, making her way to the door.
A man in a suit stood on the porch, holding a large envelope and a clipboard. “Are you Natalie Cooper?”
“Yes,” she said, tentative.
“I have a delivery for you,” he said. “You’ll need to sign here.”
He handed her the clipboard, indicated where she needed to sign, and Natalie
