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“Are you okay, Ellie?”
She closed her laptop and wiped at her eyes as he crossed the room to her. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying. “I’m fine,” she said with a lift of her chin. “Just doing some research. There are some heartbreaking blogs.”
Derrick’s eyes flickered with questions. “Have you thought about having a family?”
His tender voice sent a lightning bolt of emotions through her. And a streak of panic. “I just want to play the part,” she said, deflecting.
His gaze met hers for a loaded minute, then he released a sigh. “I hope you’re ready. We made contact.”
Ellie’s breath caught. “That was fast.”
“If they’re holding kidnapped children, they want to turn them around quickly.”
“Just a business to them, huh?” Ellie asked with a shudder.
“That’s what we’re going to find out.”
Seventy-Three
Stony Gap
Ellie and Derrick planned to dress her bungalow as if the Eriksons were ready to adopt a child immediately—right down to having a bedroom ready. If MWC turned out to be legit, which seemed unlikely, then they’d pass it off as giving the agency an idea of how the child’s home would look. If they wanted a quick transaction, then the Eriksons were ready to go.
Right now Ellie had nothing at her bungalow that was kid friendly, so she drove to Vera’s.
This year Vera had decorated the new farmhouse with white lights and her father had strung icicle lights along the roofline of the porch. She knew Vera wanted a snowy holiday, as did the locals who advertised,Visit the Mountains for a White Christmas!. But this year the weather was not cooperating.
Now, with a child missing, the mountains seemed macabre, the steep ridges and jutting cliffs ominous and echoing with the whispers of death.
She hurried up to the door, knocked, then for the first time since she and parents had become estranged, she entered their house without waiting for them to invite her in.
She called Vera’s name and her mother came running. Gone was her usual coiffured hair and silk pantsuits. She wore a velour jogging suit and sneakers, with an apron tied around her waist. Somehow, she looked more approachable and softer in the casual outfit and flour on her apron.
“Ellie, is everything all right?” Vera asked.
“Not really. Ava Truman is still missing.” Ellie’s breath puffed out. “Do you still have some of my childhood things?”
Vera looked surprised. “There’s a couple of boxes of toys and books,” she said.
“I need to borrow them,” Ellie said as she backed toward the door.
“Whatever for?” Vera asked with a raised eyebrow.
Ellie really didn’t want to explain and considered a lie, that she was donating them to charity. But she’d insisted on truth in the family and she had to reciprocate. “It’s about Ava’s case,” she said. “I don’t have time to explain. But I’ll bring the items back.”
Concern darkened her mother’s eyes. “If it helps find that little girl, then take them Ellie and keep them. They’re in the attic.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Ellie ran up the stairs. By the time she reached the door to the attic, she realized that for the first time since Vera and Randall had divulged the truth about who she was, she’d called Vera Mom.
Seventy-Four
Crooked Creek
When Ellie arrived at her bungalow, the wind had turned frigid and the temperature was dropping rapidly. She hoped to God that Ava was inside some place warm, not left out on the trail.
As she climbed out of her car and glanced at her front door, she shuddered. Someone had spray-painted her front door with a message in blood red.
