Georgia was right to feel uneasy. Suddenly, Tucker was feeling uneasy, too.
He stood at the top of the wooden steps, his hands shading his eyes, and looked up the beach in both directions. Nothing. From an inside jacket pocket he pulled what looked like a miniature pair of binoculars and held them to his eyes. Though very small, the range of the glasses was extensive. There was no sign
of Laura as far as he could see. A small worm of fear began to twist within him, and he broke into a jog as he hurried back to the inn, where Ally was standing in the front doorway, waiting for her mother to walk her to school.
"
Tucker, have you seen my mommy?" Ally asked with a six-year-old's impatience. "I'm waiting for her to take me to school."
"No, I haven't seen her. I'll bet she went out for an early morning jog and forgot about the time."
"My mommy hates to run
."
"Well, then, maybe she took a long walk. It sure is a beautiful morning."
"Sometimes she likes to go watch the sun come up." Ally said hopefully.
"Then that's probably just what she did."
"She always comes back before breakfast. She's always here when I have to go to school."
"Oh, I'll bet she just lost track of the time today. Maybe the sunrise was extra pretty this morning," Tucker said, wishing it was true.
"I have to go to school." Ally looked up at him, concern in her face. "Someone has to take me."
"I could walk with you this morning."
Ally looked anxiously in the direction of the beach.
"Look, how 'bout if I walk you to school, then when I get back, I'll walk on down to the beach to see if your mom is there."
"When you find her on the beach, will you tell her to bring milk and ice cream money to school for me? Before lunch time?"
"How much do you need?" he asked.
"Four quarters and two dimes."
Tucker dug into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of change. Holding his hand open, he said, "Let's see if you can count out what you need all by yourself."
She took two dimes and four quarters, thanked him, and relieved that lunch had been taken care of, said, "Now we can walk to school."
He held out his hand and she took it,
and they walked to the first corn
er, which they crossed on cue from the
crossing guard. At the next corn
er they turned right for a block to the elementary school. When they reached the front walk, Ally stopped and said, "Mommy usually leaves me here. See, there's Mr. McAfee. He's the school guard."
"Do you need anything else?" Tucker asked as he knelt down in front of her.
"Just a kiss," she grinned, offering her cheek, which he kissed softly.
"Thank you," she took off up the sidewalk, turning once to wave and call to him, "When you find my mommy, don't forget to tell her that she should not be walking late in the morning."
"I'll do that," he nodded, thinking that if he did find Laura right now, that's the least he'd say.
When
he found her, he corrected himself as he hurried back to the inn. There was no doubt but that he would. He hadn't spent a lifetime looking for her, only to have her disappear now.
Once back at the Bishop's Inn, Tucker let himself unobtrusively into Laura's apartment and walked through the neat, quiet rooms, looking for something out of place. He went into her bedroom and stood in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. The bed was only mildly rumpled on one side, the pillows
stacked as if the occupant had leaned against them to read, and indeed, the bedside table held a stack of books. He walked closer. Laura's reading glasses were folded on the cover of a paperback novel that lay face down on the table.
Across the room, a dresser drawer stood open a few inches. Tucker peered into the deep drawer where sweaters were folded and stacked one upon the other in four piles. Three of the piles held four sweaters each. The fourth pile held only three.
He went next into the bathroom, where a nightshirt made a rumpled pile on top of the wicker clothes hamper. He returned to the bedroom and looked around, then back into the bathroom where he lifted the lid of the hamper. It held the long sleeved T-shirt she'd worn the night before, but not the jeans. Her bathrobe hung on the back of the door, and her slippers were under one side of the bed. He opened her closet door. The Nike walking shoes she wore frequently were missing.
"Laura, talk to me," he said aloud to the empty room. "Show me who was
here, so that I can find you…"
His eyes searched the scene for something. There had to be
something
—but it was as if she had been plucked from her bed and abducted into thin air. He had all but come to the conclusion that there were no clues to be found when he noticed the open Bible pushed partly under the bed. Hesitating only for a second, he knelt down and scanning the page—the Book of Matthew—found that a section near the bottom of the page had been to
rn
out. He lifted
the book and found the scrap of paper concealed under it.
I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh: and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it.
Is it possible that Laura's abductor had given her time to read her Bible before spiriting her away, and had she used that time, however brief, to seek words that might provide a clue as to whom her abductor might be?
The back of Tucker's neck began to prickle as he read and reread th
e marked passage, all his well-
trained instincts on full alert.
twenty-fou
r
G
eorgia paced relentlessly wai
ting for Matt to arrive, replaying the phone call from Tucker over and over in her head.
"
It appears that Laura disappeared sometime after she went into the inn around midnight
.
She'd apparently had time to change her clothes and get into bed, read for however long before whomever her visitor was, arrived. There was a book on the table with her eyeglasses, and the bed was only mildly disturbed—blankets turned back, the pillows stacked up against the headboard—-as if she'd gotten into it and had time to do some reading, but maybe hadn't slept in it."
"The police
…
"
"
…
have been called. They don't seem to think that she's been missing long enough for them to be involved," he had said tersely.
"And you?
"
she had asked.
"I think it's been plenty long enough."
"I'm
going to call Matt. We'll be there as soon as w
e can get there. And I'll
call my mother
…
"
"Gordon already has. She's on her way."
The black pickup drove past the window, kicking up stones as it made an arc in the drive to turn back toward the road, and Georgia was outside, locking the door behind her, before Matt had time to come to a full stop. She raced to the cab and climbed in, slammed the door behind her even as Matt hit the gas.
"Have you heard anything else from Tucker?" Matt asked as he flew from the driveway onto the macadam roadway.
Georgia shook her head, "No. I brought my cell phone, though. I thought I'd call in another fifteen minutes or so and see if there's anything new."
Matt nodded, his jaw tight and his eyes hidden behind his dark glasses.
"The police told Tucker that it was too early to start worrying." She leaned back against the seat and idly scratched behind Artie's ears. On the seat between his humans, the dog closed his eyes blissfully, unaware of the turmoil.
"That's ridiculous," Matt scowled. "Laura isn't the type of person to just take off like this. Where do they think she might have gone?"
They rode in silence for several miles, neither of them willing to voice their deepest fears.
Finally, Georgia dug in her shoulder pack and, pulling out her small phone, said, "I think I'll call my mother's car phone and see if she's heard anything."
Delia answered the phone on the first ring.
"Mom, it's me. Matt and I are about twenty minutes or so from Bishop's Cove. I was just checking to see if you'd left yet."
"You'll beat me by about an hour. I left as soon as Gordon called. I take it you waited for Matt."
"Yes. Have you heard anything?"
"Not from Tucker. But I did make a call or two."
"To
whom?"
"The first was to Jeremy Noble. The second was to Nick. He and India will be there in a few hours. Nicky will have called Zoey and Ben by now. Jeremy was in D.C., so he should be there before too long."
"Jeremy is the private investigator who works for you occasionally?"
"Yes. He found Laura for me the first time.
I was hoping that perhaps…
" The line went silent.
"Mom?"
"Yes, darling, I'm here. I'm just beside myself, Georgia. I know that something terrible has happened to Laura and I don't know what to do." Delia spoke slowly, as if afraid to voice her fears.
There was a brief period of heavy static on the phone.
"Mom, say it again, I couldn't hear what you were saying."
"I said, thank God for Gordon. He's going to have someone drive him to meet me in Rehoboth, so that I don't have to make the entire drive alone."
"That's so sweet of him, Mom."
"It is. Oh, there's that damnable static again. Call me back when you get to the inn."
Georgia pressed the "end" button and pushed the thin antenna back into the phone. Keeping the phone on her lap, she told Matt about Gordon driving north to meet Delia, and that the rest of the family was on their way to the inn.
"That's good. She probably needs all of you right now." Matt nodded his head, recalling Delia's words.
If one is wounded, we all bleed.
"That's what she said.
That she'd lost Laura once…
"
"Well, we're not losing her," Matt interrupted her. "We'll find her."
"Mom's already called her P.I. He's on his way to the inn. And Tucker's a former SEAL. He must have some skills that could be useful in this kind of situation."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that if the police continue to insist that she's probably just having her nails done or she's out shopping with her girlfriends, it will be good to have some investigative types around."
"Well, maybe by the time we reach the inn the police will have changed their minds and will have launched a search for her."
The police hadn't changed their tune much, as Matt and Georgia discovered when they arrived in Bishop's Cove. If anything, they spent more time thinking of excuses for Laura's disappearance than they did of possible solutions for finding her. Even the ripped section from the Bible was dismissed as inconsequential. It was as if the thought of a serious crime having been perpetrated in their tiny coastal town was inconceivable.
"Now, look, Matthew," the old chief was saying, "you don't know that your sister didn't have a gentleman friend she was visiting with last night."
"The only 'friend' Laura was with last night was me," Tucker scowled.
"That right?" The Chief's eyes narrowed and focused his attention on Tucker. "Until what time?"
"Around midnight. I already gave this
information to your officer…"
"Well, give it to us again
…"
The Chief pointed to a chair at the opposite end of the room and said, "Why don't you just take a seat there and you and I will have a little chat
…"
Tucker rolled his eyes in exasperation, but took the seat and waited for the police chief to join him.
Georgia looked out the window, watching for the Mercedes to make its appearance while Matt paced anxiously. Finally, Delia's car appeared and Georgia ran out through the side door to meet her. She waved as she crossed the parking lot and Delia emerged from the passenger side door.
She
'
s let Gordon drive,
Georgia observed, thinking how unusual it was for her mother to turn the reins of control over to someone else. Gordon hopped out from behind the wheel to slam the door quickly and catch up with Delia as she strode toward her daughter.
Wordlessly Georgia gathered her mother into her arms and let her hold on. After several long minutes, Delia stepped back slightly and said, "I
saw police cars out front…
"
"They're questioning Tucker."
"Tucker?" Delia snorted. "Good grief, they don't think Tucker
had anything to do with this…"
"I don't know that they're thinking much of anything. It's like being trapped in a bad episode of
Mayberry, RFD.
At this point, they don't seem to think that foul play is a factor. They seem to think she just up and took off for a while
…
"
"Well, I'll set them straight on that." Delia charged toward the house.
By the time they reached the front steps, they could hear Jody shouting from within.
"Laura Bishop would not leave her child. Period." With every word, Jody took one step closer to the young police officer, her brown eyes crackling with indignation, her pretty face taut with anger. The officer took one step back for every step forward of Jody's. "She would not
not
be where she is supposed to be, when she is supposed to be there, without telling someone—most likely, me—and for you to stand there and suggest that she met her girlfriends for breakfast, which just happened to turn into lunch, without bothering to tell anyone is totally
absurd!"
"Okay, okay." The officer took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, front to back.
"We'll put out an APB," the chief nodded, rubbing his chin. "Get me a photo and I'll send it over to the TV stations and the newspapers. I still think it's a lot to do about nothin', and I think she'll be strolling back in here any time now
…
"
"The new brochure advertising the inn has her picture on the back," Jody ignored him. "There's a whole pile of them right there behind you on the desk."
Without waiting for the officer to move, Jody lifted a stack of brochures and handed them to him. The Chief took them and stuck the pile under his arm.
"I'll be in touch," he said as he headed through the door, turning to address Tucker. "Don't think
about leaving Bishop's Cove…"
"Why did he say that?" Georgia asked.
"Because I was the last person to see Laura last night," Tucker told them.
"That's ridiculous," Delia waved her hand, "to even suggest that you would have anything to do with her disappearance."
"If you did, I'll
…"
Matt began, and Tucker held up one hand, to stop him, saying calmly, "You're her brother, so I'll overlook that. Now, let's use our energy to find your sister."
"You mean, start canvassing Bishop's Cove?" Georgia said.
"Unless I am very much off-base, Laura is not in Bishop's Cove." Tucker said. "Ah, Mrs. Enright, is that your investigator?" He pointed through the window at the man who was rapidly approaching.
"Yes. That's Jeremy. Did you speak with him earlier by phone?" She went to the door.
"He called from his car, just as you had asked him to do."
"Mom, do you think he can help?" Georgia asked.
"He's never failed me," Delia said as she opened the door and briefly hugged the investigator who had been her help in time of need on several occasions.
Jeremy Noble was tall and muscular and looked more like the football player he had been in a previous life than a private investigator. He wore a black sweatshirt with
PRINCETON
across the front in orange, and gray sweat pants.
"Are you all right, Delia?" he asked with genuine concern.
"No, I'm not all right," she appeared to be, finally, on the edge of breaking.
Gordon put his arm around Delia and led her to the sofa. To Jody,
he said, "Maybe some coffee…"
"I'll bring in a pot," Jody said as she headed directly to the kitchen.
"Who's Tucker?" Jeremy asked.
"I am." Tucker stepped forward.
"Did you speak with the police?" Jeremy asked.
"I did."
"Show them Laura's 'note'?"
"They didn't think it was significant," Tucker said wryly.
"Show me
her apartment, if you would…"
Tucker nodded, gesturing for Jeremy to follow him. Matt fell in behind them.
When they came back a few minutes later, Matt was carrying the Bible. He placed the book on the table and opened it to the page he'd been marking with one finger.
"The Bible was on the floor
, and open to this page. The torn
out section was under the book. In spite of what the police think, we figure that Laura left it to help us find her. Tucker thinks that somehow, she must have talked her abductor—or abductors, we don't know how many there were—into letting her read from her Bible before they took her. She must have very cautiously to
rn
this section out and placed it under the book, hoping it would be found."
"What kidnapper would give his victim time to read the Bible?"
"Someone who thinks he's doing the Lord's work might be inclined," Jeremy said.
The room fell very quiet.
"Gary," Matt said flatly, quickly making the connection.
"Isn't he still in jail?" Gordon asked.
"Yes, but over the past few years, he's developed a following that goes from one end of the country to the other. In the past six months alone, about forty of his disciples have been released from their respective prisons," Jeremy told them.
"You think one of them abducted her?" Georgia's jaw dropped open. "Why would they do that?"
Jeremy read from the slip of paper that he'd been holding in his left hand.
"
'I
am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth
it.
'
"
A dropping pin would have sounded more like an avalanche in the wake of Jeremy's reading.
"Gary sent someone to come and take Laura someplace." Georgia whispe
red, wide-eyed. "But where…
"