offer of a new job, a new start, seriously. Allie’s stomach clenched. Moving on would mean leaving Simone and Eden behind—her real family. But they didn’t need her as much. Eden was happily married and Simone was practically on her way down the aisle.
Starting over, doing something that scared her both professionally and personally—that was a good idea, wasn’t it?
Once Hope is home, she told herself. Then she’d talk about it with them. Besides, they were going to have enough to deal with once the press found out Chloe’s case had been reopened recently when Chloe’s missing tennis shoe had been delivered to the police. Now, here they were, with another missing girl in frighteningly similar circumstances. Allie could only imagine the resulting spin accusing the police department of endangering valley residents by keeping the information quiet.
Allie shivered. She didn’t want to think about how the public—especially Hope’s uncle Max—would react to that.
She recognized a time bomb when she saw one and Max Kellan was tick-tick-ticking his way through life.
His life wasn’t any of her business. But given his rather shaggy appearance; the long, sun-tipped, dark blond hair that seemed to be in a race to his shoulders; the permanent five-o’clock shadow; his open hostility upon learning of her profession? Allie felt safe in assuming he’d had a difficult go of things lately. Still, there was something oddly appealing about him. Maybe it was the chiseled features of a man who could have stepped out of an action movie. She caught herself imagining how her fingers would get lost in the thick length of his hair. Her reaction to him was curious. Unusual. Which only increased her fascination.
When she looked into those swirling brown eyes of his, she found something familiar, something unsettling that she found in the mirror every morning: the man was haunted.
She also saw a man in need of care and compassion, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
Add all those elements together and sharing her suppositions with Max about Hope’s kidnapping could very well set up a reaction of furious proportions.
For now, as far as the connected cases were concerned—as far as Max was concerned—she’d keep her mouth shut.
If she’d expected to find some peace in Hope’s bedroom, it was keeping its distance. Allie saw hints of designer elegance, Hope’s mother’s influence given her penchant for materialistic show-woman-ship. But Gemma’s taste extended only as far as the deep layers of pink-and-white striped wallpaper and detailed crown molding decorating the high ceiling.
Hope wasn’t a girlie-girl, not completely, anyway. She was a kid who threw herself into all different things, from science experiments to hip-hop dance classes, to horseback riding lessons that had been her mother’s idea. She liked playing dress up as much as baseball. She could catch and throw as well as she could decimate the makeup counter at the local store. Despite the sadness and withdrawn behavior that had brought Hope to Allie’s office, she’d maintained her spark, however dim; but enough for Allie to gently blow on and reignite.
Allie wasn’t so egotistical to believe Hope’s transformation was all on her. Max Kellan had played a significant role in pulling Hope out of the darkness surrounding her parents’ divorce.
Allie’s toes scrunched in her flat thin-soled shoes as if afraid of taking a step farther inside. She pushed past her reservations and forced herself to scan the walls lined with kitten and puppy posters and a boy band Allie had only heard of in some of her other patients’ sessions. Like the Vandermont home, Hope’s bedroom contained several photographs of the four young girls, all with the biggest, happiest, brightest smiles possible.
Allie could only hope they’d be able to smile like that again.
She wasn’t sure she ever had.
Allie walked over to the bay window, sat on the padded cushion stacked high with books ranging from classic children’s stories to the latest young adult novels.
“Let me guess.” Jack MacTavish’s voice had Allie glancing to the bedroom door. “Uncle Max drive you out of your comfort zone?”
Allie managed a slight smile. “Not really. I thought maybe being in her space would help me somehow.”
“How do you think he’s doing?” Jack strode in and scanned the room in that seemingly casual way he had of absorbing every detail.
“I’d say he’s hanging on by his fingernails.” Allie got to her feet, realized there wasn’t anywhere else to go. She sat down again. “Have you heard anything from Cole yet?” As much as she liked Jack, she’d known Cole Delaney, Jack’s partner and Eden’s new husband, for most of her life. She missed his solid presence despite acknowledging he was needed elsewhere.
“He’s still up at the Vandermont house with the lieutenant, bringing Agent Quinn up to speed. Quinn, I kid you not, arrived by helicopter like some movie superhero. Cole did say the girls are asking for you. They want to know if there’s anything they can be doing.”
“There isn’t.” All they could do was wait. Which was, of course, the most difficult thing anyone could do in this situation. “It makes more sense for Cole to talk to them, see if they noticed anyone strange in the last few weeks. Or if Hope told them something she’s been keeping to herself.” As if Allie could admit out loud that being around the girls felt like a physical knife to her heart.
Jack lowered his voice. “You think this has been in the works that long?”
“This took planning, Jack.” Far longer than Allie liked to consider. The idea that Hope was the one who suggested the campout niggled at the back of her mind.
“You’re still convinced this is connected to Chloe’s case.”
“You saw the flowers.” Allie had yet to erase the image out of her mind. “If it isn’t connected, why leave it at all? Hope and Chloe could be twins. The red hair, the quirky personality, the friends.” Allie felt her breath catch. Only now did she realize how being around Hope eased some of the pain she’d carried most of her life. And now? She scrubbed her hands down her arms. Now it was as if she was stuck in a horrific rerun of the worst episode of her childhood. “I know I’m supposed to try to keep an emotional distance, but I don’t think that’s possible. We’re all out on the ledge on this one, Jack. I’m not entirely sure what to do.” And that was her greatest fear: that she’d do something wrong and cost a young girl her life.
“You’ll do what you always do. You’ll keep us from falling.” Jack squeezed her arm. “You’ve got a good support system with Eden and Simone. Speaking of which, Cole called Eden and filled her in. She’s driving back from Portland. She should be in Sacramento by tonight.”
“More like this afternoon given the way she drives. I should call Simone,” Allie murmured. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to break her cone of happiness.”
“I’d say break away, but then I’d be the one emotionally invested.” It was Jack’s turn to offer a thin smile.
Allie inclined her head. Jack’s ego had taken a healthy bashing a few weeks ago when Simone reunited with her ex-husband, something none of them saw coming, least of all Jack, Simone’s on-again, off-again Friday-night date. That Jack rolled with the punches and, in some odd way, had become friends with said ex, Vince Sutton, proved just how nice a guy the detective was. “You need to stop looking so hard, Jack. Your someone is out there. She’ll pop up when you least
