Morgan recognized the angry voice at the front door as she and Blair came downstairs.
“I heard you’re planning to call off the debate. Who do you think you are, making that decision without even asking me?”
Morgan looked at Blair.
“Sam Sullivan,” they said at the same time.
Sam was the third candidate in the mayoral race—the one who wrote the book on cut-throat campaigning. Morgan might have known he wouldn’t take the cancellation well.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and joined Jonathan at the door.
“Lisa Jackson is missing,” he was saying. “Under the circumstances, we could hardly have gone on with it.”
“You and me could have done it.” The tips of Sam’s ears turned pink. “If somebody can’t show up, that’s his tough luck. But this was supposed to go off. We have advertisements up all over town—paid advertisements, I might add. It ain’t right to call it off without consulting everybody involved.”
Jonathan shook his head. “We can put it off, Sam. It won’t hurt a thing.”
Sam looked like a good-ole-boy version of Rodney Dangerfield, with his flattop and his don’t-get-no-respect attitude. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you, Jonathan? Throwing us off guard like this when we were all prepared. You know darn well that Ben Jackson’ll do anything for publicity, and this is the biggest stunt he’s pulled yet.”
“I thought of that,” Jonathan said, “but I really don’t believe that’s what’s happening here. I was with him this morning.”
“I knew it!” Sam threw his hands up. “So you two are in cahoots then. I might have known. And if you don’t think I’m gonna let this be known to every reporter in the area—”
“Milk it for all it’s worth,” Jonathan said. “Knock yourself out. If you want to look like a man who doesn’t have an ounce of compassion, go for it.”
“I have a good mind to hold that rally anyway. To stand up there by myself and take advantage of the opportunity.”
“Like I said, knock yourself out.” Jonathan swung the storm door open to let Sam out. “Nice of you to drop by, Sam. Sorry you have to leave so soon.”
Sam spotted Morgan and Blair standing in the doorway. “Blair Owens, you better write about this in that paper of yours! Tell ’em how he talked to me. You can’t play favorites.”
Blair crossed her arms. “I’m on it, Sam.”
He marched out the door, grumbling something about derailing this election and suing for the advertisement money. Jonathan let the door bounce shut behind him.
Blair chuckled. “That man is like a caricature of himself. Every reporter’s dream.”
Jonathan ground his teeth together. “Coming into my house and chewing me out. He can have at it. I hope he does prance down to the Pier and show his true colors.”
“Are you going to show up and make the announcement?”
“You bet I am,” Jonathan said. “And if Sam tries to stand in my way, the crowd will see what he’s made of.”
CHAPTER 9
The drive to the prison, which was located one hour east of Atlanta, seemed farther every time Sadie made the trip. She passed the time listening to music, but by the time she got there she dreaded having to drive home again.
She went through the degrading hoops necessary for security—emptying her pockets, removing her shoes, enduring a search that left her feeling humiliated—then took her place at one of the visiting booths as she waited for them to get her mother. She hadn’t been able to hug her mother in a year, since her arrest and felony conviction on drug charges. A panel of smudged glass separated them, and they had to talk via the telephones that hung on either side of the glass.
The atmosphere was not conducive to a relaxing visit. Every conversation in the room could be overheard. The glass partition didn’t go to the ceiling, only high enough to prevent contact. Angry voices and expletives flew around her. She sat with rigid muscles, as if ready to defend herself from sudden assault.
In the booth next to her, a man cursed into the phone, and she could hear the inmate’s angry reaction as she hit the glass with her fists, causing Sadie’s own booth to jerk. The woman shrieked at her visitor, and for a moment Sadie thought the inmate might come over the partition and latch onto his neck.
Sadie fought the urge to run out. If she did, her mother would be crushed.
She watched through the glass as two guards came to quiet the inmate. The woman swung at one of them, and in an instant, they had wrestled her to the door, no doubt escorting her to lockdown where she would feed her rage.
“Leave her alone!” Her visitor was on his feet, shouting. “She didn’t do nothin’. I got the right to visit my wife!” He kicked his chair, and it fell against Sadie. She sprang up and tried to move away.
Another guard pushed her aside and escorted the rabid husband out. Sadie watched until he was gone, afraid he would run back in and wreak more havoc. She felt small and fragile—and close to tears—as she sat back down to wait for her mother.
Other conversations around her were thankfully less heated. A baby cried at one of the booths, and a two-year-old had been set free to run around barefoot on the dirty floor.
There was no air-conditioning, and the room was approaching eighty degrees. The heat did nothing to help the smell of backed-up sewage in the bathroom or the heavy scent of body odor on the stagnant air.
The door opened, and Sadie saw Sheila step in and look from window to window. When she saw Sadie, her face lit up. That look made all of this worth it.
Sheila grabbed the phone and sat down. “Hey, baby—” she touched the glass—“I thought you couldn’t come today.”
Sadie put her hand against the glass. Her side was sticky. “My plans changed at the last minute. How are you?”
Her mother looked good, in spite of the brown jumpsuit she’d worn every day of her incarceration. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail, making her look younger than thirty-two. Sadie knew most people thought they were sisters, rather than mother and daughter. Sadie was the result of a teen pregnancy, and her upbringing bore that out.
“How’s Caleb?” her mother asked.
Sadie pulled the current pictures out of her pocket and pressed them against the glass. “I took this one earlier this week. Look how curly his hair’s gotten. He’s always real busy and talks a lot. You should hear him. He’s a real scream.”
Her mother’s head tilted at the sight of the pictures, and she got tears in her eyes. “I wish you could bring him to see me.”
“It would be too hard, Mom. The ride is too long. He’d never be able to stay in his car seat that long. And when we got here, you wouldn’t even be able to hold him.”
Sheila wiped a tear. “Maybe we could get special permission. Some of the girls here have been able to do that. One of my cell mates had a baby right here in jail two months ago. They took it from her the next day, but they let her hold her baby sometimes when her mother brings her. I could get the chaplain to work it out for me. They listen to him.”
Sadie sighed. She couldn’t imagine subjecting her little brother to this place. “We’ll see, Mom. Maybe we can work it out sometime. But I’ll leave you these pictures.”
“Did you get my letter yet? About my lawyer?”
Sadie shook her head. “When did you send it?”
“Two days ago. You probably would have gotten it today.” That smile came back to Sheila’s face. “Baby, I’m not getting my hopes up or anything, and I don’t want you to either, but I found out that the legislature just passed a law to help overcrowding in the prisons. For nonviolent crimes, they’re letting people out after serving only twenty percent of their sentence. I’m not sure whether my conviction falls within the right timeline. I may qualify and I may not. My public defender is looking into it.”
Sadie almost jumped out of her seat. “You mean you could get out?”
“It’s possible. I have four more years. If I fall under the twenty perc
ent rule, I could get out now. But don’t get your hopes up, baby. It may not work out. Hardly anything ever does.”
Sadie’s heart was pounding. “Mom, that’s great! What if it does work out? You could be free.”
Sheila leaned in to the window and giggled. “Wouldn’t that be a miracle?”
“God’s given us miracles before, Mom.”
Sheila’s eyes grew misty again. “Yeah, he has.”
“Oh, Mom, you would love Cape Refuge. It’s so beautiful. Probably the most beautiful place on earth. At least, it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
Sheila paused for a moment. “Baby, I don’t know if I want to come to Cape Refuge.”
Sadie’s heart deflated. “Why not? You don’t want to go back to where we were before.”
“Tell you what. We’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Sadie thought about that statement as she drove back to Cape Refuge. She couldn’t consider the thought that her mother might choose to go back to Atlanta if she was released early. Somehow, she had to talk her into coming to Cape Refuge and starting a new life.
There simply was no other option.
She prayed that God would have mercy on her mother and give her this second chance that no one had expected. Then she imagined Sheila walking along the beach with her, barefoot in the sand, swinging little Caleb between them, and splashing his feet in the water. She pictured her being serene and happy, like Morgan, taking care of her family and watching over them.
It was a picture far removed from the reality she had known before her mother went to jail, but she hadn’t given up on the hope that she could change.
“Please let it happen, Lord,” she prayed as she drove. “Change Mom’s heart, and give her a new start.”
CHAPTER 10
Detective Joe McCormick, the only detective on Cade’s force, had not been with Cade last night when Ben reported Lisa missing. Since she still hadn’t been found, and the possibility that she’d met with foul play increased with each passing hour, Cade decided to bring McCormick in. Maybe something in Ben’s story would send up a red flag in the detective’s mind.
McCormick took notes as Ben went over his story again. When Ben finished, McCormick studied his notes. “Where were you fishing yesterday, Ben?”
“I took my boat and went out to the reefs.”
“Catch anything?”
“Yeah. Six black sea bass. They’re in the freezer.”
“Then you took the time to clean them before you went to meet Lisa?”
“Yeah. It didn’t take that long. Then I showered and headed to the doctor’s office.”
“How long were you out there?”
“Until about two. Appointment was three-thirty.”
“Did you communicate with her at all from the time you left Cape Refuge until you came back?” McCormick asked.
Ben shook his head. “Not at all. She had all these appointments scheduled. It was a big day for her. She was closing on some houses and looking forward to that appointment. And I don’t have to tell you that our cell phones don’t work on the island. When she’s in Savannah I can usually get her, but not here.”
“Was she worried about anything—upset at all?”
He shrugged. “Just the usual.”
“What usual?” McCormick asked.
“Well, you know, we were both stressed about the debate, and she was worried about whether this in vitro would work. She had this big-deal Hollywood producer coming, and she was supposed to help him scout locations for his newest movie.”
“I’ve got his name,” Cade said. “We’re questioning him today.”
“She never made it to that appointment. Rani said she had to fill in for Lisa.”
McCormick rubbed his chin as he studied Ben’s face. Cade knew what he was looking for. The husband always had to be considered a suspect when a wife met with foul play, but so far, Cade hadn’t found any guile in Ben’s body language or glitches in his story. They still weren’t sure there had been any foul play.
“Had a lot on her plate, huh?” McCormick asked.
“Yeah, but she always does.”
Does. Present tense was a good sign.
“I expected her at home when I got here because we were going to ride to the fertility clinic together, only she didn’t show up. So I called her at the office. Rani hadn’t seen her. Nobody’d seen her, but I didn’t worry. I figured she’d meet me at the doctor’s office. There was no way she was going to miss it.” He stopped talking and rubbed his mouth hard. “It wasn’t until I got there that I realized something must have happened to her. That’s when I started getting worried.”
Cade heard a car door slamming outside, and Ben sprang up and lunged for the window, as if expecting to see Lisa getting out of her car. But it wasn’t Lisa. A television van from Savannah had parked in front of the house, and a camera crew was setting up. Cade saw the coiffed correspondent trudging across the lawn to the door.
“It’s the press,” Ben said. The disappointment hung over him like a lead cloak. He dropped back into the chair. “I thought it was her.”
Cade watched him cover his face and fight tears. He didn’t know how to comfort the man, but he felt sure this wasn’t an act. The worry and dread seemed genuine.
The bell rang. “Do you want to talk to them?” Cade asked softly.
Ben slid his hands down his face and looked toward the front door. “I guess it might help. Get the word out.”
It wasn’t the answer Cade expected, but he saw the wisdom behind it. Maybe it was a good idea.
Ben went to the door and told the reporter that he’d be out in a minute to give a statement, then he turned back to Cade and McCormick. “I need to figure out what I’m going to say.”
“Find a picture of her to give them,” Cade said. “Describe her car and when she was last seen. That kind of thing.”
Ben grabbed a framed picture off of an end table. “This one should do.” His hands trembled as he took it out of the gilded frame. He looked scattered, as if his mind raced with pleas for his wife. “Are we finished here?”
Cade looked at McCormick. He nodded. “Ben, last night we checked all the hotels on the island, to see if she might have checked in. She didn’t. Today we’re checking the hotels in nearby towns. Are there any other towns we should check? Any family members she might have gone to stay with?”
“No. I talked to her parents in Cordele last night, and they haven’t heard from her. She’s an only child. There’s no place I can think of where she would have gone.”
“We’re putting a statewide APB out on her car, and I’m going to ask South Carolina and Florida to do the same. Maybe someone will spot it.” Cade got up and reached for his cane. McCormick followed him to the door.
Ben stopped them at the door and grabbed Cade’s arm, his desperate gaze locking into Cade’s. “Find her, Cade. She has to be all right.”
Cade knew better than to give him meaningless assurances. “We’ll do everything we can, Ben.”
Ben’s face sagged with the heaviness of his fear. “Look, would you two mind going out and standing with me while I make my statement? They might want to ask you a few questions.”
“I’m not going to give a statement,” Cade said, “but our presence will let them know that we’re looking.”
The three of them stepped out into the front yard, and the television camera started rolling. Cade saw Blair’s car pulling up, and she hurried up the yard, as if she didn’t want to miss a thing.
He hoped the publicity would bring Lisa home and that later they would all feel like idiots for making so much out of nothing. Yet he had no intention of resting on that assumption. If he had anything to say about it, Lisa would be found today.
CHAPTER 11
Her friend’s disappearance haunted Morgan all morning, and she finally decided to drive to Lisa’s real estate office to talk to her partner. Rani Nixon’s Mercedes Roadster was the only car in th
e parking lot, and Morgan supposed that the staff must be off on Saturday.
The sun blazed on the black asphalt, its heat radiating upward. She was glad the debate wasn’t going to be today. She still felt weak from the miscarriage and had dreaded standing out at the South Beach Pier, trying to look perky in ninety-five-degree heat.
The cool air from the air-conditioner blasted her as she went into the building. She stepped into the quiet waiting area and looked around. Morgan had never been in here before, so she wasn’t sure where Rani’s office was, but she could hear the woman’s low voice from one of the offices at the back. She went to the doorway and saw the woman talking on the phone. Rani saw her and lifted a hand in a wave, then held it there as if telling her she’d be right with her.
“Yeah, look, if she does come by, would you please have her call? We’re all very worried about her.” Rani sniffed and wiped her nose with a wadded ball of tissue.
Morgan looked away, feeling as if she’d stepped in on an intimate moment.
“We hope not too. Yeah, I know.”
Morgan looked up at her again, a sense of awe falling over her at the strikingly attractive woman. Rani Nixon still looked like a cover model. With her Halle Berry features and short-cropped black hair, she looked as if she should have a mob of paparazzi following her around. When she’d given up her career five years ago and moved to Cape Refuge to work with Lisa, she had been an instant success. Everyone wanted to do business with the celebrity. Her reputation, her money, and her aggressive nature had all added up to skyrocketing success for their real estate business.
Rani got off the phone. “Morgan, isn’t it?” She stood up, her five-feet-ten-inches making Morgan feel dwarfed.
“Yes.” The woman had a Wall Street handshake, and Morgan was intimidated. “It’s good to see you. I just wanted to come by and talk to you about Lisa. I’m really worried about her.”
“You and the rest of us. I haven’t slept all night. I’ve been worried sick.” She motioned for Morgan to sit down, and Rani took her chair again. “So how did you come to hear about it?”