AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I have an idea,” J.D. ventured as he slid her a glance.
“About Stephen?”
“Mmm.” He drove through town but didn’t head toward her house. “Remember this morning at breakfast? Stephen seemed pretty determined to go to the Cawthorne wedding.”
She felt her shoulders sag as she remembered the conversation about her father. “It was just talk.”
“Was it?” J.D. asked as they passed the post office.
“It’s his new thing—try to argue Mom into a corner.”
“Or he could have been serious.”
“Why?”
J.D. lifted a shoulder. “Curiosity. Or a need to connect with his mother’s family. Who knows?”
Tiffany didn’t want to believe that Stephen would openly defy her. Not this way. “He…he wouldn’t have gone to the wedding. No way. Same goes for the reception.”
“A few days ago you were certain he knew nothing about Isaac Wells’s disappearance. Now you’re not so sure.”
“He must be somewhere else.” She didn’t want to believe that her boy would lie so blatantly—especially about this—and yet, she couldn’t overlook any possibility. Staring out the bug-spattered windshield, she realized that J.D. wasn’t listening to her arguments anyway. He was driving out of town in the direction of Cawthorne Acres, John’s ranch. The thought hit her like the proverbial ton of bricks. “You’re not really going to take me to the wedding reception, are you?”
He lifted a dark brow. “Seems as if you were invited.”
“I know, but—”
“We’ll just see if anyone’s seen Stephen.”
“No!” She was emphatic.
“Got any better ideas?”
She wanted to come up with something—anything other than her estranged father’s wedding—but she couldn’t. Her stomach twisted into tight little knots. “All right, we’ll check,” she finally conceded because she couldn’t think of another place Stephen would have gone. “Discreetly,” she said, hating the thought. “We’ll inquire discreetly. I don’t want to cause a stir.” Then she looked down at her attire. Jeans and a short-sleeved blouse. Everyone else would be dressed to the nines for the wedding. Not that it mattered. She’d suffer any kind of humility, just as long as Stephen was okay.
“There won’t be a stir,” J.D. assured her as he slowed at the lane leading to John Cawthorne’s place. The gate was open, and the curved sign that spanned the lane read Cawthorne Acres. A black ribbon of asphalt sliced between moon-washed fields of cut hay. In the pasture on one side of the road a few bales had yet to be hauled to the barns. They stood like unmoving, rectangular sentinels in the dry stubble. On the other side of the lane, long-legged foals romped and bucked around a small herd of serene older horses. Silvery moonlight played upon their white markings, making them appear ghostlike.
At the end of the lane, the ranch house and grounds were ablaze with lights.
Tiffany’s stomach tightened, and her fingers curled into fists of anxiety as she saw dozens of cars parked in the lot between the house and barns. More vehicles had been directed into one of the fields while still others were parked along one side of the lane.
Dear God, what am I doing here? she thought as J.D. eased his Jeep behind a sports car nearly a hundred yards from the house. You’re only here to find your son. Nothing more. Remember that.
“It’s now or never,” J.D. said, and Tiffany steeled herself. She climbed out of the Cherokee and was hit by the strains of “The Anniversary Waltz” being played by a small dance band. The notes carried on a breeze tinged with the scents of cut grass and honeysuckle. A faint odor of cigarette smoke wafted through the summer air, and the hum of conversation grew louder as they approached the single-story house.
Millions of tiny white lights decorated the trees and fence line, as if it were the Christmas holidays instead of the beginning of August.
Guests, dressed in everything from silk and diamonds to denim and rhinestones, wandered the grounds. But no Stephen. “This is insane,” Tiffany muttered under her breath as she followed a path that led behind the house. Rounding the corner by the back porch, she nearly slammed into a woman walking in the other direction.
“You decided to come after all!” Bliss, dressed in a shimmery silver-blue dress, smiled widely. Her blond hair was pulled into a French braid and her eyes sparkled as brightly as the thousands of tiny bulbs. Beside her was a tall man with light brown eyes and sun-streaked blond hair. His hand was placed firmly in the middle of Bliss’s back.
“I don’t know if you’ve met Mason,” Bliss said. “My fiancé, Mason Lafferty. This is Tiffany Santini, my half sister.”
Somehow, despite the worry congealing her insides, Tiffany managed to make the appropriate noises as well as introduce J.D. as her brother-in-law and explain why they’d shown up. “We decided to come here because I’m worried sick about Stephen, and he isn’t at any of his friends’ houses. No one knows where he is, but he was interested in coming to the wedding today, and I thought... I mean, J.D. thought he might have shown up here.”
Bliss’s smile had slowly given way to a frown of concern. Tiny lines of anxiety etched her forehead. “I wish I could help out, but I don’t remember seeing him,” she said, looking to Mason for support.
“Don’t ask me, I’ve never met him.” Mason glanced around the crowd that had collected around the rim of a temporary dance floor in the backyard. “There are a lot of kids here, though.”
