Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
“Very well, but dear, if you really want to marry my son you should return as soon as you can
or your chance will be lost once again
. He shouldn’t be that hard to seduce, you’re a beautiful woman with more class than Cassandra could ever have, and he’s been without a woman for a quite
a while
. Just come back and commit yourself to getting him.”
“Will do, Mother.” she answered, then hung up and began biting a freshly manicured thumbnail subconsciously.
Grace hung up the phone with a thoughtful look on her face, and began pacing, trying to think of her next move. Suddenly inspired, she decided to try to fish some information out of Malcolm, although she doubted it would work. He had always been tight-lipped and loyal to her son. But it was worth a shot, after all, desperate times called for desperate measures.
****************************************************
“Everything is coming undone!” Martina seethed as she threw the cell phone to the floor of the limo. She simply had to figure out a way to make sure Cassandra never returned to
Pinewood;
she had worked too hard and waited too long for Granger to lose him.
She closed her eyes and rocked back and forth, remembering the way he had made love to her. She loved the way he had completely dominated her, bringing her unimaginable pleasure. When he had refused to share his bed any longer, she had slept with countless men to try to find one who could recapture that bliss for her, but none had made her feel like he had. “No matter what, I won’t let that bitch have you.” she muttered, grinding her teeth together. Unable to help it, she thought of his estranged wife, of how he was searching for her, after all this time. The mere thought of a possible reconciliation between the two, of him touching her, wanting her, needing her…was just…
Suddenly she let out a scream that sounded like a hundred banshees, and began beating her fists wildly on the window, then began kicking and throwing anything she could get her hands on.
The tantrum was so violent it startled the driver badly enough to nearly lose control of the car.
Chapter 2
Jocelyn Ames closed out the web page she had been working on and sighed. She had just finished answering some responses concerning her missing daughter. She closed her eyes
for a moment, eyes that burned dryly from countless hours of sleep she had missed. The last few years she had done the same thing over and over, someone claiming they spotted Cassandra in a mall, at an airport, or in some foreign country, and each time her hopes had been dashed, as was the case tonight. She had received an email from a woman who said she had spent time with her in a homeless shelter in Kentucky, but after talking to the police in the area and the shelter supervisor, she discovered once more that the woman in question wasn’t her daughter. As a matter of fact, she looked nothing like her, as she had seen when the police emailed her a photo for identification purposes.
Many people had told her that she should give up, that Cassandra didn’t want to be found, but she refused to believe, unlike her son-in-law, that her daughter had simply abandoned her family. She knew her only child better than anyone, her child would never have just walked away, leaving behind her only child, whom she loved very much.
Picking up a silver frame from her desk that contained a cherished photo of her baby girl and her grandchild, she reflected once more that there had never been any question of her daughter’s love and devotion for Regan. In the photo the child had his little arms wrapped around his mother’s neck, and their faces were pressed together as they smiled for the camera.
She couldn’t simply let go. She thought of her husband Leo, who had passed away when Cassandra was fifteen. Cassandra was so much like him, from the dark flawless skin, high cheekbones, and her beautiful brown eyes. She even possessed her father’s gentle, loving nature, and his love of the outdoors. She chuckled, remembering the times when she was a little girl and her father would take her to the mountains ginseng hunting. They would come back covered in mud and God only knew what else, and the little girl would act as if she had spent the day at Disneyland. No, she would never just up and leave. If nothing else, she would have stayed put simply to annoy that nasty piece of work she called her mother-in-law, just for her and Regan’s sake.
Her own bitterness for Grace Mortenson had first risen to the surface the moment the old witch had
begun
making Cassandra’s life hell, even before she and Granger had been married, and she had also said some nasty things about her when she went missing. That had been the last straw, and if it hadn’t been for Granger pulling her off the bitch, she would have strangled her to death with her bare hands on the spot.
Jocelyn knew by instinct that she didn’t disappear willingly, and her belief was so strong that, up until this point, she had spent nearly all her life savings searching for her. The police had been very little help, they didn’t want to hear what a middle-class, retired postal worker had to say, when Granger, a powerful and important local businessman had told them that his wife had finally just up and left, after many threats of doing just that. And of course her daughter’s unusual behavior, before she went missing, had convinced nearly everyone that Granger was telling the truth. A few people had submitted affidavits stating that Cassandra herself had said she was very unhappy, and spoke often of leaving.
Aside from that, she also suspected Grace had used some of her own influence to make sure the police never dug too deep in their efforts to find Cassandra.
But she didn’t care, she would never give up. A day didn’t go by that she didn’t think of her, wondering if she was safe, warm, if she had enough food to eat, or if she was being mistreated.
The ringing of her doorbell roused her from her thoughts. Frowning, she wondered who could be coming to her home at this time of night, anyone who knew her knew she didn’t like visitors coming after six in the evening.
But it could be about Cassandra…
she thought, then quickly put the frame down, grabbed her robe, and went to answer the door, her heart racing.
The doorbell rang several more times, in rapid succession, and she called out irritably, “Hold on, hold on, I’m coming! I’m an old woman, I can’t be running!”
Finally reaching the doorway, she hesitated,
and then
took her ‘peashooter’ off a small table nearby. She was old and alone, and it wasn’t smart for any woman to carelessly throw a front door open at night. She had heard of people attacking old women, home invasions and the like, and if anyone tried to hurt her she was going to make sure she left a mark or two of her own. Looking though the peephole cautiously, she was stunned for a moment. Composing herself, she put the gun back down on the table and opened the door.
“Oh, hey, sorry to bother you this late…”
For a moment she simply stood there, giving Granger a hard look, her full lips pinched. She could tell he was uncomfortable, but honestly didn’t care.
Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looking away, he looked more like a young man unsure of himself, instead of a powerful, confident man who could make or break other men. It had taken him a while to work up the courage to come and see her, to tell her he was looking for her daughter. “Listen, Jocely
n, can I come in for moment?
We need to talk.” he said nervously.
Could he know something about Cassandra? Please God, don’t let my child be dead!
Was
the first thing that crossed her mind, since he was usually very direct and forceful about what he had to
say.
It simply wasn’t like him, and his behavior had spooked her badly. “Is something wrong? Have you heard from Cassandra? Is Regan alright?” she asked bluntly, her heart gaining speed and her mouth suddenly turning dry.
Seeing her sag against the doorframe, he knew she was feeling faint. Quickly, he grabbed her arms to steady her, stepped inside, closed the door and locked it with one hand, then led her to the living room. Easing her down to a sitting position on the couch, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, don’t be afraid. It‘s nothing like that, no one‘s hurt, and no, I still haven‘t heard from her. Relax.”
Relieved, she took in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Picking up some flyers from the couch, she placed them on the coffee table and motioned for him to have a seat.
“So you haven’t come to say you’ve heard anything new about Cassandra, and Regan is all right, I take it? It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.” she said bitterly, giving him a hard look. Things had been so strained between them that it had been months since she had seen her grandson.
Taking out his wallet, he handed her a recent photo. “He’s doing well. He’s excited about school, and beginning to take an interest in sports. He’s playing softball this spring. I took him snowboarding a few weeks ago, he’s a natural.”
Looking at the picture of her grandson, who was standing next to a tree, she smiled warmly. His blue eyes stared piercingly into the camera, and he had the same devil may care smile his father had worn so often, during happier times. He could be a clone of his
father;
their features were so similar, except for his mocha skin.
Eyes cast downward, he cleared his throat and said, “Listen, the reason I came to see you is because, well, I hired a private detective to find Cass. Regan needs to know has what become of his mother. He’s asking questions, and I think he needs, and deserves, answers.”
Nodding, she tried to hand the photo back to him.
“Keep it, there are plenty more where that came from.” he replied.
She didn’t want to be angry or start an argument, although his help
had
been a long time coming.
Don’t say anything! He has more than enough money to find her, just be thankful he finally IS helping!
She
told herself, trying to keep her resentment at bay. “So, you’re finally going to look for her. I guess I should thank you.” she said stiffly.
He knew that she would always hold a grudge against him for not aiding her in her search for Cassandra, years ago, but he had been absolutely certain that she had left of her own free will. He still was. Leaning forward, he took one of the flyers from the table and studied it. He remembered when the photo had been taken, it had been only a few weeks before she left. It was taken at their cabin, the one he had had built just for her. It was one of the few places she had been truly happy at.
I know I shouldn’t even care, after all, she was the one who left US, but God I do I miss her…
he suddenly thought, a lump rising in his throat. In the picture she was smiling, her long hair blowing in her face. She was leaning against the back deck rails, a spectacular view of the mountains in the background.
“I’ve always loved that picture, it’s one of the best ever taken of her.” Jocelyn said quietly.
Looking around the room, he thought about how she had put all her money and time in her search for her only child. The furniture needed to be replaced, along with the worn carpet, and he had noticed that the outside of the house needed to be painted. “Jocelyn, please, l would like to help you out. I know your search has been hard on you, financially, and I would like to…”
His word were cut off as she shot him a withering glare and said, “I don’t care about the money, I just want my child back, safe at home. So if that’s all you came to tell me, I need to get to bed, I’m putting up flyers in Tennessee tomorrow.”
Without another word, he nodded his head, then got up and left.
Chapter 3
“Amy, why don’t you come and sit with me?” Karen said softly as she got on her knees and looked underneath the table. She could clearly see the frightened little girl, her head down, with her small arms wrapped around her legs.
“Ms. Karen, she’s a freak, she’s been under the table alllll day long.” Danny Mitchell, the class clown/tormenter said, causing several of the children to laugh.
Turning, Karen gave the little red headed boy a look of reproach. Pointing to an area where children were painting, she said in a stern voice, “Go, Danny! I don’t need any help from the popcorn stand, alright?”
The little boy looked as if he was about to say something more, but spotting someone else he could torment, he shrugged his shoulders, then turned and ran off.
Deciding she would have to win the child’s trust, she crawled under the table and laid on her stomach, resting her elbows on the floor and putting her chin in her hands, close to the little girl, but careful to stay out of the child’s personal space. “You know, it’s Ok to be afraid. When I first came here I was really afraid, someone had hurt me too, but the nuns and the other people were so nice, they would talk to me even when I wanted to be left alone. They told me they would take care of me, and little by little, I felt safe. And I want you to feel safe too.”
The little girl didn’t react, just remained motionless, head bent downwards, her eyes hidden by her long hair.
“Can we be friends, Amy?” she asked softly.
A slight shrug was her only reply, and she smiled to herself. Deciding not to push the girl any further, she looked around and said in a confidential tone, “You know, I can see why you like it under here. Why don’t we hang out here for
a while
, it can be our little place, until you’re ready to make friends with the others.” Turning, she grabbed two coloring books and a big box of crayons she had brought along, hoping to lure the child out, and placed them at her feet. She then opened one herself and began coloring.
Her heart soared when the little girl lifted her head shyly, saw what she was doing, then laid
on her stomach as well, and began coloring.