Melissa pulled her bravado up off the floor and wrapped it around her. “They would’ve called,” she said aloud. That was right. She let the air seep back into her lungs. “If they’d found her, they would’ve called.” The courage she’d dredged up and the words she’d spoken for her brother’s benefit did nothing to slow the thundering in her chest.
William nodded. “Guess so.”
The chime echoed a second time. “Stay here.” Melissa squeezed his arm. “I’ll see who it is.”
She turned from her brother, her heart somehow rising into her throat while it continued to pound frantically, and started toward the living room. The dishes she’d intended to wash when she’d come into the kitchen still waited, but she didn’t care. It was difficult to keep her mind on anything except Polly.
Chief Talbot, the town’s chief of police since Melissa was a kid, had ordered Melissa back home this morning, too. He didn’t want her or William out there. Maybe because of what he feared finding or maybe just because they both looked like death warmed over.
At least the chief had allowed their Uncle Harry to continue helping with the search. Harry would call the instant he knew anything. He was practically a second father to her and William. He’d stepped in when their father was killed, taking over for the younger brother he’d adored. Melissa felt certain that was why he’d never married and had a family of his own. He’d been too busy taking care of his younger brother’s.
Holding her breath, Melissa opened the front door.
She’d braced for the appearance of one of Bay Minette’s finest or a family friend bearing bad news.
But not this. She wasn’t prepared for this.
Jonathan Foley.
The breath she’d been holding whispered past her lips, his name forming there without conscious thought. “Jonathan.”
“Melissa.”
The sound of his voice echoed through her being, made her soul ache with the need to reach out to him. He looked exactly the same. Tall with shoulders that filled the doorway. Thick black hair still military short. Chiseled jaw that gave the impression of unyielding stone. But it was the eyes that made her already pounding heart stumble drunkenly.
They were ice blue, so pale they were almost gray. She’d always been certain that he could see right through her. That he could read her every thought.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call.” She managed to keep her voice steady, which was an outright miracle.
“May I come in?”
Shaking off the shock and confusion, Melissa stepped back. “Of course.” Get your head together, girl.
Jonathan Foley stepped across the threshold and into her family home. Melissa’s breath deserted her once more. He was here. After nearly three years without a word, he was here.
He waited patiently, his eyes searching hers.
She summoned the courage that had apparently run for parts unknown. “I’m glad you came.” It was the truth. She’d expected nothing more than a phone call but she was damned glad he was here. The urge to fall into his arms consumed her again.
“Has there been any word on your niece?”
Melissa moved her head side to side. The movement felt stiff and jerky with the tension ruthlessly gripping her neck.
Silence pressed against her, filled the room for half a dozen beats of her aching heart.
She gave herself a mental kick. “Please sit.” She gestured to the sofa and chairs. Wherever he lived now, whatever his job or personal status, he’d come to Alabama to help her family. For that she felt immensely grateful.
He waited for her to take a seat first, then he settled in the chair directly across from her position on the sofa. Old, well-worn, the sofa had been around since she was a kid. The upholstery had changed a couple of times, ending up a wild mix of pink and red flowers against a green and white background. Her mother had picked it out and Melissa didn’t have the heart to change it.
Jonathan considered her a moment, his posture straight and rigid as if he expected a general to enter the room at any moment and he might have to jump to his feet and salute. His forearms rested along the length of the chair arms, his hands palms down, his long fingers extended as if that were the only part of him fully relaxed. Then he finally spoke. “She’s been missing for five days?”
“Yes.” That sinking feeling that bottomed out in her stomach each time Melissa thought about sweet little Polly out there alone or worse dropped like a stone deep into her belly now. “They’re continuing to search for her.” She shook her head. “But they haven’t found anything yet.”
His gaze narrowed so very slightly that she might have missed the change if she hadn’t been staring so intently at him. “No suspects? No evidence discovered?”
“Nothing at all.” She clenched her fingers together and pressed her fists into her lap to prevent them from shaking.
“Has the FBI been called in to assist?”
Melissa had to really concentrate to pull the answer from the mass of painful and confusing information she’d attempted to process the past few days. “There was talk of someone coming from Montgomery.” What had the chief said? Her mind was a total blank! What was wrong with her? Taking a deep breath, she finally pieced it together. “I think a consult was done by phone.”
She waited for a response, physical or verbal, but he said nothing. Sat utterly still. Analyzing her answer, she supposed.
Memories flooded her brain. Moments shared with this man that she had shared with no other human being. Secrets…feelings. Stop. She ordered herself back to the matter of importance. “Is that normal procedure?” she asked when he continued to sit stone still without saying a word.
“Sometimes.” He paused a moment as if to be sure of his words. “The Bureau’s involvement is strictly on a case by case basis. If they’re not on the scene they feel there is nothing their presence could add at this point.”
Did that mean the FBI felt Polly’s case was hopeless? Before Melissa could ask as much, he said, “Walk me through exactly what happened.”
Where was William? Melissa glanced at the door that separated the kitchen and dining room from the living room. Forcing him to relive that night would only add to his misery. “It was late. William and his wife had a fight.” Melissa took a moment to tamp down the renewed rush of emotion. “You know how young couples can be. A little too much passion and not quite enough common sense. William didn’t want Polly to be awakened by the arguing so he left and came here for the night.” Melissa’s throat attempted to close again. “The next morning when he went home Polly was gone and Presley was sleeping off the vodka she’d used to drown her frustrations.”
More than one well-meaning neighbor had commented that no decent mother would drink herself unconscious with her child in the next room. But that was the main emotional outlet Presley had been exposed to growing up. It was what she knew. Melissa wanted to shake her every time she thought about it, but that wouldn’t change a thing.
Even
