A Scarlet Cord (22 page)

During the next four days, Matt and Don exhausted every avenue they could think of. Matthew made phone calls and searched the Internet. He spent hours interviewing people in Silver Creek who had known Joel. Without exception, they spoke highly of Ellington. Yet everyone also admitted that they really didn’t know much about him personally.

Privately, Matt and Pastor Steele tossed around possibilities they would never have voiced in Melanie’s presence: Maybe he was already married or had fallen in love with someone else. Or he had a secret drug or alcohol addiction, or he was caught up in a gambling habit. They speculated about things that had no basis in any fact they knew—that he was dying of some fatal or contagious disease and had just enough decency not to expose Melanie and Jerica to such a situation. They briefly entertained the notion that he was a government informant or a protected witness or that he was a convict on the lam, but those speculations seemed the stuff of Hollywood.

And yet Don Steele—who had known Joel better than anyone besides Melanie—could not point to one thing that even hinted at the mildest of these verdicts. “The Joel Ellington I knew was a man of genuine faith and integrity. I would bet my life on that,” Steele told Matt, pounding a fist into his open palm.

Either that, or he was an Oscar-caliber actor
, Matthew thought.

Every trail Matt followed led to a dead end. The last action of Joel’s that could be documented was his withdrawal of the balance of his bank accounts—in cash—on the same day he’d left the letters and cashed his paycheck.

Tim Ellington, Joel’s brother, seemed to have disappeared along with him. Melanie didn’t have an address for the man and remembered only that he lived in Connecticut and that he was in the real estate business, but the only Tim or Timothy Ellington in that state was a long-retired auto mechanic. Matthew began to wonder if perhaps
the brothers were involved in some kind of scam together. It did seem strange that Melanie didn’t know more about Joel’s brother—or Joel’s former fiancée. But the truth was, Matt couldn’t have recited the street addresses of his own wife’s siblings—or their birthdays, for that matter. So maybe it was nothing.

A week after his arrival in Silver Creek, Matthew was no closer to an answer than he’d been when he arrived. It was time for him to go back to Karly and the boys in Bergen County and to his job in New York.

Before Jerica was even up for school, he brought the last of his luggage from the guest room and set it by the front door. He’d told Jerica good-bye last night, but he crept into her room to plant one last kiss on her cheek before Melanie walked him out to the rental car.

They stood together on the driveway in awkward silence. “Well,” he said finally, reaching out to embrace her. “I better go.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“I haven’t given up, Mel,” he told her. “I’ll keep trying to find out what happened.”

“I know. I know you will. Thank you so much for coming. Give those boys a squeeze for me. And give Karly my love.”

“I will. You come and see us too. Okay?”

“We will.” She gave him a brave smile, but her voice held the heaviness of unshed tears.

“I mean it, Melanie. It would do you good to get away. And Karly would love to see you.”

“We’ll come soon. I promise.”

Matt released her and moved slowly toward the car. “Well … I guess I’d better go,” he said again.

He got behind the wheel and waved as he backed slowly out of the drive. She followed the car to the edge of the street. When he took one last look in his rearview mirror, she was still standing in the street, small and alone.

He had never felt so helpless in his life.

Nineteen

The hotel lobby was crowded with conference-goers. Melanie shifted her attaché case on her shoulder and studied the agenda spelled out on the placard in front of the main meeting room.

“Melanie!”

She turned to see Doreen McGrath, a designer with the Kieffer Group. “Hi, Doreen! I was hoping you’d be here.” The two shook hands over their awkward burdens of computer cases, notebooks, and handbags.

“Are you teaching workshops today?” Doreen asked.

“Just one. Larry Cohen asked me to teach one management session this afternoon. But the rest of the day I’m just a student. How about you?”

“Just a lowly attendee.”

“What’s your first session?”

Doreen balanced her briefcase against her leg and pulled a schedule from the outside pocket of her purse. “Design and the Law,” she read.

“Oh, me, too. Sounds like a fascinating subject, doesn’t it?” She rolled her eyes.

“Sounds like a perfect opportunity for a nap.” Doreen laughed. “Come on, I’ve already scouted out the meeting rooms.”

Melanie followed the perky redhead down the carpeted corridor of the hotel, grateful to have found a friendly face in the crowd.

“So how have you been, Mel?” Doreen asked when they’d settled at a table near the back of the room. “Busy with wedding plans, I’m sure. Did you bring that handsome man along?”

Melanie felt her cheeks burn. “Oh … Doreen … You haven’t heard. We … um … The engagement has been called off.”

Doreen’s face paled, and she put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Melanie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. What happened?”

To Melanie’s dismay, tears sprang to her eyes. She swallowed hard, struggling to regain her composure. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. I guess Joel … just wasn’t ready to be married.”

“Oh, Melanie … I feel terrible,” Doreen said.

They were words Melanie had heard a hundred times in the last month. The humiliation of trying to explain her situation had been almost unbearable, especially when she wasn’t sure what had happened herself.

At Erika’s suggestion, she had mailed a note to everyone on the guest list, informing them briefly of the situation and asking for prayers. It had helped prevent many painful questions. But of course, even two months after Joel’s disappearance, there were those, like Doreen, who still hadn’t heard the news.

She’d given Doreen the same pat, rehearsed response she’d given everyone. And though she feared it made her sound jaded and perhaps bitter, at least it kept her from being bowled over with grief every time she had to explain it yet again. Or did it? The lump in her throat felt monstrous.

The workshop presenter tapped on the mike, and the buzz of conversation around them died down.

“Do you want coffee?” Doreen whispered, bobbing her head to the side of the room where several steaming carafes sat on a linen-covered table.

“Oh … sure,” Melanie said, pushing back her chair and following Doreen to the table, deeply relieved for a graceful end to this conversation.

Melanie walked briskly through the doors of Cornerstone and headed down the hallway that led to the day care facilities, anxious to see Jerica after an especially grueling day at By Design.

She passed the secretary’s office and waved through the doorway. “Hi, Darlene, how are you doing?”

“Oh, hi, Melanie. I’m doing okay. How are
you?
” The tone in her voice was one of unreserved pity. Darlene brought up the subject of Joel every time Melanie saw her. Not wishing to appear rude, she stepped into the office for a moment. Ignoring Darlene’s question, she asked, “How is your mom doing, Darlene? I haven’t heard any news for a while.”

Darlene sighed heavily, and immediately tears welled in her eyes. “She’s about the same. She still can’t keep anything down. And let me tell you, she didn’t have any weight to spare before she got sick.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. This must be awful for you.” Melanie felt guilty that she didn’t really care to hear the details. She knew she had become too wrapped up in her own little world of grief. She forced herself to listen now, nodding sympathetically, earnestly trying to feel empathy for this hurting woman.

“I wouldn’t wish this disease on my worst enemy, Melanie. I … For a while I had some hope that they might find something that would help her, but I’m … I’m afraid it’s spread too far too fast now.” Darlene sighed again. “As if that isn’t bad enough the insurance companies don’t cover half of what they should. They won’t even consider paying for some of the new treatments that are available now.” Her voice rose. “These are promising treatments—some people are calling them miracle cures. I read an article the other day that sounded exactly like Mom’s situation—and this treatment cured the woman in the story! But do you think Mom’s insurance company would even consider it? For what they charge, they ought to be ashamed.” She bit her lip and stood there, shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry, Darlene. I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just keep praying,” the woman said.

“You know I will.” She patted Darlene’s arm and changed the subject. “How is the new building project going?” She couldn’t help but remember how involved in the project Joel had been. She shook off the thought. It seemed that everywhere she turned, there was a reminder of Joel.

“Well, they haven’t set a firm date yet,” Darlene told her, “but I don’t imagine it’ll be long now before we break ground.”

“That’s exciting. I suppose it means more work for you, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I don’t mind. It helps me keep my mind off my troubles,” the secretary said. Abruptly she lowered her voice and asked, “Melanie, have they found out any more about Joel? Do they have any idea where he might have gone?”

Melanie held back a sigh. “No … they haven’t, Darlene. I … don’t really expect that … we’ll ever know.”

“But they’re still looking for him, aren’t they? I mean, surely there has to be some way to locate him.”

“I don’t think they look too hard for people who don’t want to be found, Darlene.”

Darlene reached out and touched her hand. “Well, I’m so sorry this had to happen to you … you of all people, Melanie. I tell you … you think you know somebody …” She clucked her tongue. “It’s a crying shame, that’s what it is.”

Melanie forced a smile and squeezed the thin hand. “Well, I appreciate you thinking of me, Darlene.” She glanced pointedly at her watch. “I’d better call it a day. I was supposed to pick Jerica up ten minutes ago.”

“It was nice to see you. I’m glad you’re doing so well.” Darlene patted her arm and held up a hand in farewell.

Melanie headed on down the hall.
Was
she doing well? Some days she thought so. Other days she felt as though she were starting from the proverbial square one. She
had
overcome some of the
obsessive behaviors that had marked the early days of Joel’s disappearance. The hours she had spent on countless Internet searches, entering Joel’s name—and Tim’s, and any other flimsy clue she could summon—had proven futile anyway. Somehow her efforts only served to prove how little she had actually known about Joel, how fragile a thread their relationship had hung by.

But just as surely as a night of fruitless searching could dash her hopes, so a marathon of daydreams—remembering the precious, tender moments with Joel—could send them soaring again. She couldn’t so easily let go of the memories. Whatever else was true, he
had
loved her. And Jerica. Of that, she was certain. And so hope dipped and jounced like an errant kite, dragging her after it on the tails of vague possibilities.

She approached the doors that opened onto the day care wing. The bubbly laughter of children drifted through the hallway. For Jerica’s sake, she had to stay strong, stay positive. She forced the corners of her mouth into a smile and walked into the noisy room.

The April morning dawned clear and sunny, and Melanie tried not to think how perfect it would have been for a wedding. Two weeks ago, knowing that she would need a heavy-duty distraction on this date, she’d invited Jerica’s friend Ami Dixon to go with them to the zoo in St. Louis. When Erika learned of their plans and hinted that she would love to come along, Melanie had invited her, too. Now in spite of the poignant significance of this day, Melanie was looking forward to the outing.

Erika offered to drive, and while the two little girls chattered and giggled in the backseat of the SUV, she and Melanie visited in the front.