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Last night, for the first time in weeks, they’d made love with tender passion. She loved Casey more than life. But this trip could prove to be a dark turning point in their relationship. If they failed to find their son—or worse, if they found proof that he’d died, how could Casey not blame her, just as she would blame herself? It would be as if, in giving up her baby, she’d signed his death warrant.
Casey stirred and opened his eyes. “Hey, beautiful, how about a pit stop? Watch for the next off-ramp. After we’ve had a break, I’ll take the wheel for the rest of the trip.”
“Suits me.” Tess saw an exit lane ahead. She pulled the black pickup to the right, swung onto the ramp, and headed down to the truck stop at the bottom. After freshening up, she walked outside and sat down at one of the shaded picnic tables. The sun was getting low in the sky. It would be in their eyes for the rest of the drive.
Casey came outside with cream cheese onion bagels and two fountain Cokes. Val forced a smile. He was a high-energy man whose body seemed to demand constant fuel. “Are we there yet?” she joked, mimicking a tired youngster.
“Not quite. Another hour maybe. By then it’ll be getting dark. We can find a motel, get dinner, catch up on our sleep, and start fresh in the morning.”
The thought of the morning and the search that would begin triggered a sudden tightness like a cord jerking around Val’s throat.
“Are you all right?” Casey reached for her hand across the table.
She exhaled, willing herself to relax. “I’m scared,” she said. “Scared of what we might find and scared that we won’t find anything at all.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “I’m scared, too. But we can’t change what happened. We can only learn the truth. We owe him that much.”
“I know.” Val tried to visualize the young boy she’d known only as a baby. Matt. She was growing accustomed to the name. It had come to fit her idea of him. Slim and active, with Casey’s twinkling blue eyes and her own fiery hair. Matthew. Matt. The thought that he might not be alive was breaking her heart.
She was his mother. If he’d died, wouldn’t she have felt something, like a part of her being torn away?
“Oh, Casey.” She blinked back tears. “I’m not hungry. Let’s just go.”
“Sure.” He finished his bagel, scooped up hers, along with the napkins, and put them in the trash receptacle. “Want to take your drink? You need to stay hydrated.”
“You’re always looking after me.” She picked up the cold soda and started for the truck.
“And I always will. So get used to it.”
Val pretended not to hear. Getting used to Casey again was one thing she mustn’t do. If their son had died, he would never forgive her, and she would never forgive herself. Their relationship would be over.
She sipped her ice-diluted Coke as Casey drove back to the freeway. Damn it, but she could use a drink. A real drink. Just enough to take the edge off her fear. But she knew better. Alcohol couldn’t change reality. Nothing could.
By the time they drove into Bakersfield, it was dark outside. They checked into the first motel that looked clean and safe—a Holiday Inn with a Denny’s next door. Val still didn’t have much appetite, but she knew Casey was hungry, so she went with him and ordered French onion soup. He chose biscuits and chicken gravy.
A rack inside the front door of the restaurant held free brochures and tourist information. Casey selected a city map from the Chamber of Commerce and carried it to their table. They’d planned their first day with visits to the cemetery and the records section of the hospital. Where they went next would depend on what they found.
While they waited for their food, Casey studied the map. Val watched him—he was so focused, so intent. He had needed this, to be doing something that drove him even if it might lead to heartbreak.
They didn’t make love that night. He spooned her as she drifted along the edge of sleep, cloaked in his manly aroma and supported by his strong arms. His breathing told her that he wasn’t sleeping either.
Toward dawn she sank deep enough to dream. She was in the cemetery with Casey, standing at the foot of two graves. There was another smaller grave between them. It appeared to be nothing but an empty hole.
From where she stood, she couldn’t see the bottom of the grave. But she glimpsed something moving, like a shadow. Stepping to the edge, she bent forward, lost her balance, and toppled in. There was no bottom to the grave at all, only dark space that went on forever, and she was falling into it. Behind and above her, she could hear Casey calling her name. But she couldn’t get back to him. She was falling over and over . . .
“Val! Wake up!”
Her body jerked. She could hear Casey’s voice and feel his hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. She opened her eyes.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He smiled down at her. “You must’ve been dreaming. You were thrashing and twitching like a puppy chasing squirrels in his sleep.”
“Yes. Crazy dream. Awful.” Val rubbed her eyes. She could see gray morning light falling between the drapes. “What time is it?”
“Almost seven. The coffeemaker’s brewing. I’ll bring you some. I’ve already shaved and showered, so the bathroom’s all yours.”
“Thanks.” Val yawned and took the Styrofoam coffee cup he offered her. Casey had always been a morning person. She loved him in spite of it.
Little by little, as she sipped the dark brew laced with hazelnut creamer, she felt her body coming awake. Would the day bring hope or heartache? She needed to be prepared for the worst.
