Where Trust Lies (9781441265364) (26 page)

I
WANT
TO
GO
DOWN
THERE
,”
Beth insisted. “I want to look for her myself. What if
I
can find her, Mother? What if they're not looking as carefully as we would—or they don't recognize her?” She knew even as she said the words that she was being foolish, but she felt so
helpless
, so
frustrated
with the waiting.

“I'm sure they're looking very hard, dear. That's what they're trained to do.”

Mother wiped a tear from her cheek. “And please, Beth, you must stop asking. There are reporters. There are . . . there are . . .
spectators
. I will not allow you to be seen, to be accosted, to be
photographed
.”

Beth's face contorted. She draped an arm over the top of her head and held it in place with the other, as if she could still her pounding headache with enough pressure.

“The doctor has offered us a sedative . . . if we should want it.”

“No—no, I can't. No.”

“Perhaps tonight.”

“
Tonight
, Mother?” Margret's expression filled with horror. “You think she'll still be gone
tonight
?”

“I simply don't know, darling.” Mother rose and walked across the room. She stopped at the window and gazed in the direction of the harbor, though it could not be seen from their vantage point. Beth watched silently as Mother turned back, set eyes on her suitcase, and lifted it onto the bed. Stoically, she began to repack the belongings she had removed earlier. Then she set the case aside and turned in place as if looking for something else to do. Beth could fully empathize with what she was feeling.

Mother's eyes fell on the unopened letter. “Beth, why don't you read to us what the school board has to say? I'd like to hear it. I'm thinking it would be a breath of fresh air.”

“Oh, let's not bother just now.”

“I think we all could do with a little good news. Something else to think about,” she added with a tired smile.

Beth moved obediently to the dresser and lifted the envelope. After opening it, she scanned the letter, then read aloud, “‘The board is pleased to offer the position of head teacher for the new provincial school of Coal Valley, Alberta, to you . . .'” It was the only phrase that registered in Beth's foggy brain.
I
will return to Coal Valley—if ever we find our
Julie.
It was strange how insignificant the news seemed just at that moment
.

Another knock on the door generated gasps from all three. But it was merely the bellboy, bringing their afternoon tea.

“Thank you,” Beth murmured as he hurried away. The second day was dragging even more slowly than the first. Beth shuddered.
Is it possible that we
might still be waiting tomorrow . . . and the next day?
“Oh, Heavenly Father, give us strength. Give Julie strength,” she whispered again.

From where Beth stood across the bedroom, the flicker of an expression on her sister's face caught her eye. “Are you all right?”

Margret shook her head, her eyes wide with sudden fear. She pressed a hand against her stomach. “I'm not sure. I don't think so.”

Mother was at her side in an instant. “What is it, darling?”

“A pain,” she said. “It's not the first. But this was much stronger.” Her face went white.

Mother quickly ushered her to the bed, drew her shoes from her feet, and pulled the covers over her. “Beth, go find Monsieur Laurent. Have him send for a doctor right away.”

Oh, God, no! Not this!
Beth rushed into the hallway and headed toward the elevator. Beth wasn't even certain where to find Monsieur Laurent's room. The elevator gate clattered open, and Beth rushed toward it, almost running headlong into Monsieur Laurent as he stepped out. She grasped his arm. “Margret needs a doctor!” she choked out.

He awaited no further explanation. “I'll have them send for one immediately.” He retreated again into the elevator, and the iron gate rattled shut. Beth stood for a moment watching after him, then roused herself to hurry back to their room.

“You found Monsieur Laurent?” Mother asked, looking as frantic as Beth felt.

“I did, Mother. He was in the hallway and left immediately to call.”

The room lights had already been dimmed, the curtains drawn. Beth could hear Margret sniffing softly. Mother applied a cool cloth against her forehead, dabbing her neck and cheeks.

Beth crawled across the bed and lay down close to Margret's
side, a hand resting on Margret's shoulder. Silence hung over the room. Beth was certain they were all lost in their own prayers.

The doctor arrived shortly, and Beth retreated to the hall as Margret was examined. “Oh, Father, my two sisters . . . Please show us Your great mercy. We need You so much.” She walked from one end of the hall to the other. It occurred to Beth that she might knock on Mrs. Montclair's door, but decided against it. The mother and daughter had been keeping their distance. Beth wasn't sure why, if it were due to their own preference or Mother's. But she wanted to respect the boundary. She also was fearful she would regret whatever Mrs. Montclair might decide to say.

When Beth returned to the hotel room after the doctor strode away, Margret was resting comfortably. Mother lifted a finger to her lips, and Beth slipped quietly into the chair by the window. She tipped her head back, and eventually weariness of body and soul overtook her and she drifted off to sleep.

H
OW
ARE
YOU
FEELING
TODAY
, M
ARGRET
?”
Mother asked the question with careful cheerfulness. Beth held her breath for Margret's answer.

“Much better. I believe I'll stay in bed as much as possible, though.”

“That's very wise, darling.”

“What day is it, Mother?”

“I believe it's Monday.”

“Only Monday? That's so difficult to believe.”

Miss Bernard brought JW to visit Margret once they had finished their breakfast. The little boy played quietly beside his mother on the bed, seeming to sense that she needed peace. When Monsieur Laurent arrived to speak with them, JW leapt from the bed and into his arms, glad for the possibility of some rough-and-tumble play.

“Ça va, mon petit ami?” their guide said with a grin, tossing JW up into the air.

“Ça va,” JW giggled from the man's arms. “Ça va, mis-yur.”

Mother's voice sounded strained. “What was it you came to tell us, Monsieur Laurent?”

He set the boy back on the floor, straightened his jacket and tie, and explained quietly, “There was a meeting this morning of which I wanted you to be aware. The local police have been in contact with other districts. They are widening their search. There may be information gained about similar crimes—perhaps enacted by the same ones who have Miss Thatcher. They might interview some suspects from regions farther away.”

“Oh? And are you saying they have interviewed suspects from this region already?”

“Yes, madame. Several have been taken in for questioning.”

“I see. We had not known of any such activity. In the future, Monsieur Laurent, we would appreciate having this kind of detail immediately.”

“Yes, madame. Of course.” Monsieur looked down at JW playing with the laces on his shoes. “May I take the little one for a walk in the hall?”

“That would be very kind,” Margret answered quickly. “I know he's been feeling very confined. He'd be so happy to spend a little time with you. ”

The man scooped him up. “And I with him, I assure you.”

“Thank you.”

“It's my pleasure, Mrs. Bryce.” He and JW left the room.

Margret spoke again gently, “Mother, you were rather cross with him.”

At first, Mother's face turned in surprise toward Margret, no doubt startled at the unexpected rebuke, but she softened almost instantly. “I know, darling. You're right. I shall have to apologize later. It's just that I want so badly to hear any news—and I don't feel he's telling us all there is to know.”

“He's probably filtering it for our own good.”

“Yes, dear, but
what is it
he's leaving out? Wouldn't it be better just to know everything?”

Beth agreed. “I want to hear all of it. I don't want to be kept in the dark, even if . . .” But she couldn't finish the thought.

Another long, slow hour crawled past, followed by a scurry of movement outside the door. Mother's hand went to her mouth, and she stood frozen in place.

A quick knock and the door opened to frame a tall young man in the doorway, his gaze sweeping around the room with an expression that indicated deep concern. It took several moments to register the face—seeming out of place here in their nightmare.

“Edward!”

Mother rushed forward to embrace him. “We're so grateful you've come.” Her voice quivered. “That you've come so far to help us . . .”

“Mrs. Thatcher, I can't even begin to say how very sorry I am.” He looked at Margret on the bed, Beth standing beside her. “Margret, Elizabeth. I'm so sorry.”

Beth drew closer, and he held out his arms. Despite more recent events that could have made the meeting awkward, she could not hold back and entered the circle of his embrace. Her shoulders shook, and she felt his arms tighten comfortingly.

“We'll find her, Elizabeth,” he said, though Beth knew the promise was only a hope. “We'll find her soon. You must trust us.”

If only it could have been Jarrick who
was sent.
Yet she knew it was unreasonable of her even to wish.

“Why haven't they
released
her? They
have
their money.” Beth's frustration reflected that of her mother and sister, but she already knew no one was helped by her expression of it, least of all herself.

Edward sat in a chair next to Mother, Margret on the edge of the bed, while Beth stood apart, one hand braced against the dresser for support. He explained, “It isn't uncommon, actually. The whole nasty business is a lot more difficult to control than what one might think. Sometimes best-laid plans unravel for the perpetrators in unexpected ways. Sometimes they haven't thought very far in advance. But,” he added firmly, “the positive truth is that they want very much what we want at this point—to have the whole thing over with, to get away from here with their money. They won't want to bother with a hostage for that.”

Hostage
. The word filled Beth with new dread.

“They won't . . . they won't harm her?” All eyes turned to Margret, who dared to give voice to the unimaginable.

Edward's calm answer was meant to assure them. “If they were to harm her, they know it would only serve to increase our efforts to find them and punish them to the full extent of the law. If they release her safely, they can escape more quickly. And they'd figure there would be less determination to pursue. You see?”

His words sounded comforting, but Beth knew the truth also must include the very worst possibility—that they would simply get rid of Julie. She shook her head and gripped the edge of the dresser. For Mother's sake—and for Margret's—she pretended to believe him. “What happens next?” she managed through stiff lips.

“I of course can't interfere with their investigation. That's why I am not in my Mountie uniform. But they've told me I can have a look around myself.”

“What are
they
doing? It doesn't seem like much.”

“Oh yes, they're watching every ship that leaves port, an enormous task, and looking at each manifest to see that its history is respectable. They're boarding and searching many of the smaller, independent vessels. And they've surrounded the area of the docks. I've never seen so much attention given to one investigation. They're being very methodical and comprehensive. It's most likely that the kidnappers never imagined so much coverage—it's likely hindering their movements and therefore Julie's return. They may have released her by now if they could find a clear path to escape. And from what I heard, they may have planned to take her earlier—so they were forced to change their plans, to improvise, which also could make delays afterward.”

Mother suggested quietly, “Maybe the policemen should get out of their way—”

But Edward was shaking his head. “No, that's not an option. They have to keep the pressure on. Trust me, that's best. It sends just the right message. And you have to keep in mind that the guilty are watching all this too—determining their actions based on what the officers are doing. It's a contest of wills, and we have to be the ones with the upper hand in order to win.”

Beth asked, “How did you get here so quickly, Edward?”

“I hired an aeroplane—actually, more than one—each taking me a portion of the distance.”

Mother reached over to squeeze his hand. “That was very kind of you.”

His gaze fixed on Beth. “I could do nothing less. I only wish there was more I could contribute.”

“You'll help as they search the docks too?” Mother's question seemed to prompt his exit, because Edward rose.

“Yes,” he said, “I'll work with one of the local officers to see if they've missed something. I will stop briefly to greet my mother and Victoria—I came directly to see you since I knew you'd want to know I'm here.” He took several steps, then paused. “Have you heard further from Mr. Thatcher?”

Mother shook her head. “I'm told he's on his way. No doubt facing the same transportation obstacles that you did.”

Edward smiled encouragingly. “He shall certainly be here soon too.”

Mother walked with him to the door. “Thank you, Edward. Thank you ever so much.”

Once he was gone, the room seemed to crowd in on itself again. Beth slipped away to the bathroom for another bath. It wasn't necessary, but it seemed the simplest way to spend time alone. She couldn't bear the solemnity any longer. As quietly as she could, she wept alone.
How can we
stand this any longer? We're
all
hostages!

But Beth repented of the thought almost as quickly as it had come.
Julie is among wicked strangers. She's surely
terrified . . . maybe even hurt.
“Oh, God,” she whispered as the tub filled, “I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I never should have let her leave in the taxi. I should have gone with her. I should have clung to the door until I was dragged along. If I ever see my sister again, Father, I shall never let her go!”

Mother insisted they gather together and share the meal delivered on a cloth-covered rolling table to her room in the late afternoon. Beth knew she was hungry, but still it was unexpectedly difficult to swallow down the food.

Mrs. Montclair now joined them, while Victoria had preferred to remain in her own room. For a change, Mother's friend seemed to be having a great deal of difficulty in finding topics of conversation. With a sigh that seemed to release her tongue, she finally offered, “It's been such a boon to my spirit to have Edward near. I feel as if he might make the difference in the investigation—and this will all be over soon.”

Mother smiled weakly. “That would be very nice, Edith.”

“I've heard he is very good at his job. He'll think of things others have overlooked, I'm quite certain.”

“Perhaps he will.”

“You do know that the cruise ship has moved on today.”

Mother's face clearly indicated that she had not heard. Beth exchanged glances with Margret.

“Of course, that would be necessary for them,” Mrs. Montclair hurried to explain. “All those passengers aboard have nothing to do with this terrible business. They've paid for their vacations, and it would serve no purpose for them to remain. And at any rate, it's unlikely that we shall be joining them again.”

It hadn't occurred to Beth to wonder what would happen if Julie were suddenly returned. As far as she was concerned, it would be very easy to forgo the remainder of the trip for some peaceful days at home, and she was certain her mother and sisters would feel the same.

Just
give her back to us, Father—and nothing so inconsequential
will ever matter again.
By the look on Margret's face, Beth wondered if her thoughts were taking a similar path.