our child?
by
sally tyler-hayes synopsis

She'd had his son without ever letting him } the child existed, without
ever giving Drew chance to have a say about what happened t, boy.

Nothing could change what she'd done.  Not could give him back the
years with Billy, an Carolyn felt sure that he would want them b

What could possibly matter after that?


Our Child?

TSILHOUETTE

"Chapter 1

Little Sara Parker got away.

She was only seven, but' she was fast, especially when she was seared
to death.  She had guts, too, because she saw her chance and she took
it.

Near as the authorities could make out from what the little girl had
told them, the man had stolen her off the sidewalk, a mere block from
her parents' home in Rus-sell ville Illinois, about seventy miles west
of Chicago.

Four days later--she wouldn't talk about the intervening time--he'd
been driving, Sara in the truck with him, when he nearly ran out of
gas.

He'd stopped to get more and Sara had defied his command to stay in the
cab of the pickup and keep quiet.  She'd jumped off the high seat onto
the parking lot, then immediately stashed herself away under a
tarpaulin in the bed of another pickup, only moments before it pulled
onto the rural highway.

Sara Parker saved herself.

Only trouble was, she had hidden herself away quite well in the back of
that second truck, and had been too scared to move.  No one noticed she
was there until an hour or so had passed.  The startled driver, a young
boy from Bloomington, Indiana, headed for his cousin's new home on the
White River to go fishing, had no idea where he'd stopped the last
time; he'd been lost and looking for directions.  But that must have
been the place where Sara climbed into the bed of his truck.

Sara had no clue about where she'd been kept for the four days she was
missing or where she'd made her escape, and so far, she hadn't been
willing to talk at all about the man who'd taken her away from her poor
mother and father.

Special Agent Andrew Delaney had been on the case for only three days
when the girl escaped.  He beat her parents to Pritchard, the little
Indiana town where they'd found her, more than three hours' drive from
where she'd been snatched.  Drew had been the first FBI agent to speak
with her.

She hadn't told him much of anything that would be useful in helping
him find the man.  He was tall, but then all men were to a
seven-year-old girl.  He smelled bad, he smoked constantly, and he'd
hurt her.  She wouldn't say how, but then, she didn't have to.  Drew
knew what bad men did to little girls.

All in all, he had next to nothing to go on in his search for the
man.

Still, there'd been something about Sara that triggered some memory for
him.  Something about this case was so familiar, and he'd concentrated
so hard on what she'd told him that he overlooked it for an entire hour
and a half.  It was her clothes.

Sara Parker had been kidnapped on her way home from her best friend's
house.  They'd been playing in the tree house in the backyard until it
turned cold on them.  It was

October, so she'd been wearing a flowered pink sweater and a pair of
light-colored jeans.  Drew had seen' some pictures taken earlier in the
fall, when she was wearing the same outfit.

But when she escaped, she'd been dressed differently; in a light cotton
short set more suited to summer than fall.  He should have realized
that earlier.  That was at least part of the reason the girl had been
shivering--from the cold.

Now that Drew thought about it, the clothes had seemed too big for her,
too.  The top had kept falling off her shoulder, and her tiny waist had
been too narrow for the waistband of the shorts.

He knew those clothes.

They were red--red-and-black checked shorts with red trim, with a
matching cropped top that barely covered her stomach, even if the top
was much too big for her.

The answer was right in the back of his mind, hiding there in the
shadows.

In an eerie premonition of what was to come, in what he could only
describe as an aeknowl~gment that some part of his brain figured it out
before the rest of him, a chill moved over him in one long wave,
shaking him to the core.  Of course he knew those clothes.

He'd seen them before, on another little girl.  Her parents had bought
that little red suit for her one year .  in Texas, while visiting
rdafives over their Easter vacation.  Thelittle girl had worn the red
suit all summer long.  And one Sunday afternoon in August, after a
church picnic, she'd disappeared.

It had been ten years ago.

"Carolyn!  You've got to see this?

She looked up as the door to her office, high in.  the corner of the
old renovated house in Chicago, burst open.  By the lime Carolyn McKay
stood up, her normally calm, cool secretary had come around to the
other side of the desk and was tugging on her arm.

"Come on," Julie said.  "You won't believe it."  "Okay, I'm coming."

Julie led her through the hallway and downstairs to the combination
kitchen-lounge, where the whole administrative staff of Hope House, a
private agency working for children's rights and gaiety, seemed to be
gathered around the small TV set in the corner and cheering.

"Comin' through," Julie said, taking her right down front.

"What's happened?"  Carolyn said~ They so seldom got good news.

"They found her," Brian Wilson, the best computer expert she'd ever had
the pleasure of working with, said as'he threw an arm around her back
and gave her a quick squeeze.  "They found Sara Parker."

She gasped.  Her hand came up to cover her mouth, muffling her words,
as she stared at the pictures of the little girl on the tiny television
screen.  "Oh, thank God..."

Carolyn squeezed Brian back, then turned to her secretary for another
celebratory hug.  The adminisgrative of-rices of Hope House were in an
uproar.  They'd been following the little girl's case for the past
seventy-two hours, and most of them had expected the worst, from the
information the authorities had released about her kidnapping.  But it
hadn't worked out that way--not this time.

"That's incredible," Carolyn said," straining to hear what the
announcer was saying.  " How did they find her?  "

"They didn't, actually," Brian said.  "She ran away ~when the guy
stopped to get gas for his truck."

God, all kids should be so lucky--and so brave.  Carolyn felt the
throbbing in her head, the churning in her stomach--which had been
constant ever since they'd heard about the kidnapping--finally ease. It
would be all right now.  At least until the next case.

In her business, there was always another case, always another child,
another set of grief-stricken parents, maybe brothers and sisters,
too.

Carolyn knew all about that.

Her sister had disappear~ ten years ago, and no one had ever found a
trace of her or her kidnapper.

Drew Delaney sat alone at a borrowed desk in the corner of the
Pritchard police station, waiting for someone at FBI headquarters to
dig up the file on the ten-year-old ease that continued to haunt him to
this day.

He was oblivious of the constant ringing of the phone, the buzz of
excited conversation around him, the curious stares of other officers,
both local police and FBI.  He turned his back on all that and sat
facing the wall, his mind helplessly drawn back to another place,
another time.

They had never found the other girl, had barely found a trace of usable
evidence, not even the first good clue as to what could have happened
to her.

It was even crueler than the actual death of a child, because her
parents had never learned what had become of their daughter.  To this
day, they waited for answers.  No doubt, in some corner of their minds,
they still hoped for a miracle--that she was alive and well somewhere,
that someday she'd find her way back to them.  Some bit of irrational
hope never.  died, making the nightmare a never-ending one.

Drew wanted answers for them, and for himself.  While witnessing
something as joyous as Sara Parker's tearful reunion with her parents
helped ease the ache, it didn't stop it.  Nothing would.  Except
finding the other missing child.

"Mr.  Delaney?"  someone called out from the front of the room.

He stood and turned around, then caught the clerk's eye.  She made her
way back to him, through the throng of excited, happy law-enforcement
officers.  They'd won one.

for a change, and they'd all been in this bus' mess long enough to know
that they had to celebrate the victories, because the defeats were far
too many, the costs much too high.

"Mr.  Delaney?"  she said again as she reached his corner of the
room.

"Yes," he said, holding out a none-too-steady hand.  "Fax for you." She
handed it over.  "Thanks," he muttered.

Drew held it facedown in his hand, waiting for the clerk to walk away.
Then, once again, he turned his back on the crowded room.

It shouldn't mean so much to him--not after all this time.  And it
shouldn't bother him this much; he'd worked on dozens of cases like
this in which they'd never found the missing children.

But that one, all those years ago, had been different.  It hadn't been
a case.  It had been personal.  Drew Delaney hadn't worked on it.  He'd
been a witness--one of the last people to see Annie McKay before she
disappeared without a trace.

And he knew what the odds were of finding her, or finding out anything
about her kidnapping, after ten years.

It would take a miracle, and Drew had been on the job long enough to
know that those were few and far tween.  Sara Parker's escape was
probably the only one he'd see for years to come.  Still, holding this
old picture in his hand, he couldn't help but hope.

Slowly he flipped the flimsy piece of fax paper over in his hands.  It
was a lousy copy of a black-and-white copy of an old color photo.  The
clarity was nonexistent, yet he still had to swallow hard when he saw
the image.  He would never forget the sight of a smiling Annie wearing
that red-and-black suit; it was the image that had been reproduced
thousands of times and distributed throughout the country in newspapers
and broadcast on numerous television stations in hopes of finding Annie
McKay.

From his shirt pocket, he took the Polaroid he'd snapped this morning
of Sara Parker in that little red shorts set.  He could have sworn it
was a perfect match for the outfit Annie had been wearing when she
disappeared-the one Annie had on in the faxed photo he now held in his
other hand.

And it made sense that the red suit was too big for Sara.  She was only
seven, but Annie had been thirteen when she disappeared.  It had been
only about a hundred and twenty miles from here, across the border in
Illinois, in a little town called Hope.  Drew would never understand
the cruel twist of fate that had bestowed that name on the town.

He'd grown up there, and he hadn't been this close to the place in
years.  The past four years had been spent with the FBI working on the
West Coast, and before that he'd been in the army.  He didn't want to
get any closer to the town now, but he didn't have a choice.  It was
his job to track down the miss' rag especially the children, and Annie
McKay was still missing, even if no one had been working on her case in
seven or eight years.

He sat back in the swivel-based desk chair and stared at a water stain
on the gray wall, near the ceiling.  It had been so long ago.

/knnie would have been twenty-three years old now, but in the eyes of
h~ family, her friends, and the people who'd searched for.  her 'she
would remain forever a smiling, laughing thirteen-year-old.  Annie
would never grow old.

She had a sister--Carolyn, who would be twenty-seven now.  Drew
couldn't help but wonder if she still lived in town.  He wondered if
she'd married, if she had kids of her own.

Every now and then, he still let himself think about her.  He wondered
if she'd ha~.  ~l him in the end, all those years ago, wondered if she
still thought of him," every now and

then, and what she'd do if he just showed up on her doorstep.

Most of all, he wondered whether she still hated him for walking away
from her so long ago.

He still hated himself for that at times.

Drew knew Sara Parker's case should take precedence over a ten-year-old
kidnapping, but he couldn't help himself.  As disciplined as he was, he
couldn't keep his mind on Sara Parker; He'd been there when Annie McKay
disappeared.  He'd searched for her himself, along with most of the
people in the small town where she'd lived.  For years he'd tried to
somehow atone for her disappearance by trying to get girls like Sara
back home, safe and sound.

And he knew that, no matter what he did today, he wouldn't stop
thinking about Annie.  Finally, he just gave up trying.  He had a bad
feeling about-this.  Hell, he had more than that.  He had a
ten-year-old photograph of a little girl who hadn't been seen in a
decade, and another of one who'd disappeared four days ago, only to
return in what he was sure were once Annie's clothes.

Even without that, Drew had been in the business long enough to trust
his instincts.  They were screaming at him right about now.

After conferring with the agent in charge at the scene, convincing him
nell that they had the manpower to do what they needed to do without
him, he'd excused himself with.  at erse explanation that he had
another lead.  It was a long shot, but he needed to follow up on it.
Then he'd promised to check inas soon as he knew something.  Drew had
worked with Bob Rossi long enough that he didn't have to say more than
that.

Then he'd climbed into his car and headed toward a place he hadn't seen
in nearly ten years.

He reasoned with his conscience, telling himself that Sara was safe
now, where Annie never would be again.  The authorities still owed her
parents something, even if it was only a body to bury And if Sara
Parker really had been found wearing Annie's clothes, then there had to
be some connection between the two cases.  He had a duty to follow up
on this lead.

It was difficult to go back to that town.  Like stepping back in time
and into someone else'S skin.  He'd been different here.  At least, the
people of Hope, Illinois, had seen him differently, and he hadn't
appreciated it at all.

They'd judged him by the clothes he wore, the rundown place he called
home, the mother who'd run off and the father who all too often was
falling-down drunk.  No one had seemed that interested in knowing him,
because they'd thought they knew enough about Drew already.  "

Well, they'd been wrong, though it didn't matter much anymore.  He
didn't care what any of them thought.

Except, may he Carolyn.  Because sometimes he still let himself think
about her.  Sometimes he imagined he caught a glimpse of her in a
crowd.  Sometimes he thought he smelled her perfume.  Sometimes, in
~the night, he still reached for her, even though he hadn't touched her
in years, and had never shared a bed or a whole night through with
her.

Sometimes he thought about trying to find he~, if for no other reason
than to exorcise old ghosts, to separate the reality of Carolyn, thew0
man at twenty-seven, from the memories of the girl who haunted his
dreams.

But he'd never done that.

Before today, he'd have sworn he never would, because he'd decided long
ago that Carolyn McKay was better off without him.

He had no trouble finding the town, despite the way the area had grown
in the intervening years.  There was a new,

more direct road connecting it to the nearby Interstate 70, and the
place was dotted with fast-food joints and gas stations.

He passed a new-car dealer, an honest-to-goodness shopping center and a
big grocery store before making his way into town.  Once he got within
the town limits, he stopped to get gas at what used to be Eddie's
Garage.  In what seemed to be another lifetime, he'd worked there.

It was one of those convenience stores now--just like the ones you'd
find in any city anywhere in the country.  He wondered what happened to
Fxldie, wondered whether anyone in this town would recognize him
anymore and whether he'd recognize them.

He was mildly curious about whether there was anything left of the old
town he'd known.  Not that he'd mourn its passing.  It was just
strange--like thinking of Annie being twenty-three instead of thirteen.
In his mind, the town, like the girl, had never aged.

He had found the presence of mind to realize that the McKays might well
have moved in the intervening years.  So when he stopped for gas, he'd
asked the clerk, who'd told him that they still lived on Highland
Avenue.

Reluctantly he drove down the tree-lined street and parked in front of
the house, one of those respectable two-story brick homes in that
eminently respectable part of town.  He'd been intimidated by it in his
youth, but the man staring at it now found it to be smaller than he
remembered, and showing definite signs of aging.  The dark green paint
on the trim and the shutters was peeling, the path leading to the front
door was cracked.  He remembered flowers--a profusion of them--in
window boxes and pots on the front porch, but there were none in sight
now.  That was strange, he thought.  It wasn't like Henry McKay to let
the place go like this.

Drew opened the old ornamental iron gate, and a loud creaking sound
filled the air.  He wondered why someone hadn't oiled the thing,
wondered why he was starting to sweat now, merely at the thought of
walking into the place.

He glanced down the bare sidewalk and remembered how pretty it had
been, lined with black-and-gold pansies, ones that matched the flowers
in the pots on the porch.  He had known from the beginning that he
wouldn't fit in here.

Determined to shake off the memories, he made his way down the path
toward the door and knocked.

Drew had done much harder things than this in the line of duty, so why
did walking back into this house seem so difficult?  Why did he dread
the opening of that oversize oak door?

But it didn't open.  Even after he knocked, it didn't budge.  He turned
to one side, noting a brown sedan in.  the driveway, then knocked
again.

Finally, he heard footsteps coming toward the door.  After what seemed
like forever, it swung open.

A woman stared back at him with not a flicker of recognition in her
eyes, but Drew would have known her anywhere.  This was Grace McKay,
Annie and Carolyn's mother.  Her hair was going gray, which shouldn't
have surprised him, but did.  He took just a moment to survey the rest
of her.  She'd gained some weight, but not much.  Her face had new
lines running across it that seemed to have nothing to do with age and
everything to do with the difficult life she'd led.

"I'm sorry" she said, quite pleasantly; She obviously didn't recognize
him.  "I was just watching the news.  They found that~ little girl this
morning--the one who'd been missing for four days now."

"I know," he said, before be even thought about it, then backtracked
into something that wasn't quite a lie.  "I was listening to the news
on the radio."

"I've been so worried about her, and to have them jusi find her like
that--it's a miracle."

"Yes, ma'am, it is," he said, feeling like-a boy who was trying and
failing to impress her with his good manners and his politeness.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

Drew glanced around at the porch and the path, the old houses that
lined the block.  It was hard to believe he'd come back here after all
this time.  His hand went to the outside of his jacket, where the right
inside pocket was, and felt the outline of the fax paper and the
photograph.  For a moment, he'd forgotten where he'd put them, and he
wasn't sure how to bring them out.  No doubt she was going to be upset
just to see him again, once she realized who he was.  And once she saw
the photograph--anything could happen.  For a moment, he wished he
hadn't come alone, or that some of her neighbors were around.

"I need to come inside for a minute, ma'am," he said, going for the
case that held the credentials that identified him as a federal agent
and flipping it open briefly for her to See.

"FBI?"  she said, obviously taken aback at finding an agent on her
doorstep.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well."  .  " She hesitated.  " I guess.  Please, come in.  " He
stepped into the dim entranceway, one that seemed even~ darker because
of the sunlight he'd just left, then waited by the sofa in the living
room until she invited him to sit.  He chose the corner by the lamp,
and he knew the' moment the light hit his face, because she gasped.

"Oh, my Lord, it's you!"  She sank into the chair in the opposite
corner, her face deathly pale.

"Mrs.  McKay, I'm sor"

"Drew Delaney?  After all this time.."

" She took a moment to gather her breath, then shook her head back and
forth, as if she still couldn't believe it.

Drew didn't like the way she looked one bit.  He didn't want her
fainting on him, especially at the mere fact that he'd returned after
nearly ten years.  If that upset her this much, what would she do when
he brought up Annie?  "Ma'am, is your husband home?"  She shook her
head.  "No."

"Could we' call him?  Maybe he could come, be,

cause- '

"My husband died six months ago," she said, and Drew decided that must
account for the peeling paint and the absence of flowers in the front
yard.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said earnestly.  Carolyn's father had been
much less vocal in his dislike of Drew than her mother, and he knew
Carolyn had been very close to the man.

His own father had died three years ago, and Drew hadn't even come back
for the funeral.  He would have felt like too much of a hypocrite.
After all, they hadn't spoken in ten years.

"Look," Mrs.  McKay said, gathering her strength now, "I don't know
what you think you're going to accomplish by coming back here after all
this time, but it's too late.  Do you understand me?  It's too late.
Whatever you were thinking of doing, you might as well forget it,
because I'll never give up my"

Drew just purled out the picture of Sara Parker.  That left Grace McKay
absolutely speechless once she caught a glimpse of it.

It wasn't the nicest thing he could have done, but he didn't want to
prolong this, or to get into an argument with the woman.  He definitely
wasn't ever going to change her mind about him or about anything in the
past.  So he was going to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"I didn't come to talk about Carolyn and me."  He tried to hide the
anger in his voice, but he couldn't quite do it.  He'd been gone for
ten years, and this woman obviously still hated him--not that it
mattered a damn bit anymore.

"I'm sorry, I don't know any way of making this easy for you."

She just stared at him with a look of utter disbelief.  "This isn't
about Bi?"  -- She clamped a hand over her mouth then and--if it was
possible--turned even paler.  The breath went out of her in a whoosh,
and Drew noted that the hands she was wringing together in her lap were
now shaking;

"I'm sorry," he said, searching for the all-important detachment that
was so necessary to surviving things like this in his line of work.

He followed her line of vision to the end table in the corner, to the
photographs in the three small brass frames.  Carolyn, a shot of the
teenage girl he'd known, in one frame; Annie, smiling and happy, more
than ten years ago; and a photo of a little boy who looked so much like
Carolyn, Drew knew he must be looking at her son.

Why did that surprise him?  That Carolyn had a son?  He certainly
hadn't thought she'd be here waiting for him.  Still, faced with the
fact that there was another man in her life, that she'd had a child
with him.  it was harder than he'd imagined it would be, harder than it
had a right to be.

He was finally going to see her again, and he'd do so / knowing that
she'd had another man's child.  That shouldn't matter to him--not at
all.  But it did.

"Why in the world are you here?"

Grace McKay's shaky voice brought him back to the task at hand.

"Business," he said abruptly.  "Official business."

He intended to look her in the eye, just once, briefly, before he
flipped the photo in his hand over and got this over with.  But he
didn't think that would he possible now.  She'd moved back in her
chair, getting as far away from him as she possibly could without
getting up--which would be out of the question, he was sure, because
she~ was Ixembling all over now.  She was having trouble catching her
breath; he could hear her struggling with that now, and she had her
hands up in front of her, as if to ward off an attacker.  He supposed
what he was about to do constituted an attack against this woman.
"About... Annie?"  He nodded.

"I don't want to see that," she shot back, glancing down at the picture
in his hands.

"It's not Annie," he reassured her.

"I don't want to see it."  "She sounded close to hysteria now.

"You have to, Mrs.  McKay.  I need you to look at it, he-cause I
think... I think it has something to do with Annie.  It's a picture of
Sara Parker, the little girl you've been heating about on the news.
She's alive.  She's going to be fine, but I need for you to look at the
picture for me.  It's important."

Somehow, she rose to her feet then, though Drew was sure that was a
mistake.

"I'don't care," she said.  "I don't want to see it."  Drew backed off
for a moment, rethinking the situation.  He truly hadn't wanted to
upset the woman, but he was trying to catch a kidnapper here.  Sara
Parker had gotten away, but the next little girl might not be so lucky.
And who was to say whether, if someone had pushed a little harder more
than ten years ago, they might not have caught that other man before he
kidnapped Sara?

He had to do it.  He had to make this woman help him, regardless of how
much it upset her.

"I'm sorry," he said to her once more, then held the photo up in front
of her.

Grace McKay gave a little cry and turned her head aside, but he watched
as her eyes helplessly darted ba~k toward the photo for a quick
glance.

There was nothing upsetting about the photograph at all.  It merely
showed a~small, thin, frightened LITTLE girl standing before the
camera.  She didn't even look anything like Annie.  Her hair was dark,
where Annie's had been blond.  Her eyes were brown; Annie's had been
blue.  And she was six years younger than Annie had been when she
disappeared.  So there was nothing, nothing at all, about this picture
that could have upset Grace McKay--except for the clothes.

And something had definitely upset her.

Dtc~ felt as if a streak of sheer power, like the kind that skimmed
along the electric lines outside, shot through him in that instant.
He'd been right.  He was certain of it now.  There ~as definitely a
link between Annie's kidnapper and Sara Parker's.

He'd just found the first good clue they'd ever had in Annie McKay's
kidnapping.  He was going to find out what had happened to her,
finally, after all these years.  And then he was going to put this
whole nightmare behind him.

"Mrs.  McKay?"

He looked up just in time to see her pitch forward.  Her knees buckled
beneath her.  She nearly hit the floor before Drew could grab her.  She
slumped heavily against him and clutched a hand to her chest.  He
braced himself, then hauled her up in his arms long enough to make it
to the brown flowered couch.

"My heart," she said, pressing.  a hand against chest.  "I can't-- Oh,
it hurts."

"Lie still," he said, pushing her gently back against the cushions,
then checking the pulse in the carotid artery in her neck.  Her pulse
Was racing, and he heard her gasp' rag painfully for every swift,
shallow breath she took.  For all the color there was in her face, she
might as well have been a ghost.  Drew knew enough first aid to be
scared.  He wondered if he'd just sent the woman into heart failure.

"I don't want to see that picture," she said weakly.

"It's all right," he said, not believing it himself, but needing to say
something to try to reassure her.

It's been ten years, he wanted to tell the poor woman.  Ten years, for
Christ's sake.  Didn't it ever get better?  Hadn't any of them found a
way to live with what had happened to Annie?  Was he going to hurt
Carolyn just as much as he'd hurt her mother, just by showing this
picture and tracking down this lead?

What in hell had he started here?

He wondered, even as he picked up the phone and dialed 911.  He
remembered the address without any problem, and answered the
dispatcher's questions as best he could while he tried to calm Mrs.
McKay down.

He knew CPR, and he'd used it before.  If need be, he could do it again
to try to keep this poor woman alive until the ambulance arrived.

But he didn't need to do that just yet.  He loosened the top two
buttons of her blouse, kept one hand on the pulse at her neck, and
watched her struggle for breath.

"Slowly," he told her.  "Try to slow it down a little.  Take deep
breaths, if you can."

He was still checking to make sure Mrs.  McKay's l~cart was beating,
however rapidly, still trying to quiet her breathless ramblings about
not wanting to see that picture, when he heard the ambulance pull up
outside.

Drew went to the door and waved the two men inside.

"This way," he told them, stepping aside.  "Her pulse is racing, and
she's having trouble breathing."

"What happened?"  one of the men asked as they walked across the
room.

"She grabbed her chest and said it hurt."

"Okay."  One of the men dropped to his knees beside the woman and
opened one of his bags.

Drew stepped aside and looked away as they started working over the
woman.  He picked up the picture of Sara

Parker that he'd dropped when Grace McKay collapsed, and put it back in
his jacket pocket, next to the one of Annie McKay, which surely would
have upset her even more.

Chapter2

It didn't take the EMS workers long to decide to transport Grace McKay
to the hospital.  Just before they-wheeled her out the door, she
grabbed Drew's hand and mouthed something that sounded like "Billy."
~

"Who's Billy?"  he said, afraid that he already knew.  He must he
Carolyn's son.  It must be almost time for school to get out.  Maybe
she baby-sat for 'the boy.  "Don't worry," he told this woman who'd
hated him on sight eleven years ago.  "I'll call Carolyn.  We'll take
care of everything."

The paramedics loaded her in the ambulance.  They were getting ready to
pull away from the curb when a yellow school bus came down the
street.

With its brakes screeching, the bus pulled to a stop in front of the
house.  The doors folded open, and a little boy stepped outside.

He was long and lanky, his arms and legs seeming to be too big for the
rest of his body, though he'd no doubt grow into them in time.  He was
wearing a pair of jeans with an oversize T-shirt and a pair of
expensive black high-tops.  Drew figure~l he had to be at least six.
Maybe seven.

The boy looked at Drew, then turned to watch the ambulance heading down
the street.  Drew noticed with dismay that the bus driver didn't even
wait to see what happened to the boy.  She would have had to be blind
not to see the ambulance in front of his house.  He was furious that
the woman had pulled away without a word.  Anything could have happened
to the boy, now that there was no one in the house to watch over him.

He'd have a word with the school superintendent about child safety
tomorrow, but right now he had to concentrate on not scaring the boy.

He'd stopped on the sidewalk just outside the gate, and now he stood
staring at the ambulance, which was disappearing from view.  It was
when the kid turned his face slightly to the left--to look at him
without really seeming to look at him--that Drew noticed the
resemblance in the kid's little turned-up nose.  He'd teased Carolyn
about being stuck-u.  p, until she'd finally confessed how much she
hated that nose of hers.  The boy had her freckles, too, and what Drew
thought would someday be a perfect match for Carolyn's hair color.  For
now, it was a shade or two lighter than what Drew remembered.  Either
that, or the sun bleached it out a little in the summer.

Damn.  Here he was, face-to-face with Carolyn's child.  There was no
doubt in his mind.

It hurt, too, more than it should have.  After all, he hadn't seen the
woman in ten years.  He'd walked out on her, and he'd never come back.
He couldn't very well expect her to have been sitting here waiting for
him all this time.

He wondered about the man she'd married, wondered if they were happy,
if they had any other children.  And he prayed to God that they would
forever be safe and healthy.

"Is my mama all right?"  A hesitant little voice pulled Drew back to
the situation at hand.

"I'm sure she's fine," Drew said, still studying the boy.

"Where is she going?"  the boy said, turning again to watch the
ambulance, which was nearly out of sight.

"Going?"  Drew said, hoping like hell he didn't have to come
face-to-face with her anytime soon, yet knowing that he probably would
have to do that.  "Her name is Carolyn, right?"

The kid shook his head back and forth.

"Isn't this your grandmother's house?"

Again, the kid shook his head.  Drew was stumped.  The kid was wary of
him, as well he should be, because the boy didn't know him.  Obviously,
someone had taught him to steer clear of strangers.  Drew didn't want
to do anything to discourage that.  Still, what was he going to do with
the kid?

"Do you live here?"  he said, deciding that was as good a place to
start as anywhere.  "Yes," the boy admitted.  "And you're Billy?"

That didn't give him any clues as to what he was facing.  He would have
simply explained to the boy that Mrs.  McKay had made him promise to
look out for him, but he hated to do that to the kid.  It was too easy
for grownups, any grown-ups, to say something like that to children and
get them to go anywhere with them.  He tried something else.  "Billy,
what are you supposed to do if you come home and no one's here?"

"Go to Mrs.  Martin's house across the street."

That was good.  The kid had a plan.  Every kid needed a plan.  "Why
don't you go ahead, then?  I'll watch you to make sure you get across
the street in one piece."

"Okay," the boy said, obviously relieved.  He turned to go.

Drew watched him run to the other house and ring the bell.  He wondered
who the kid could be~ From what he remembered, Carolyn didn't have. any
close relatives in town, and obviously Billy was related to her.

He couldn't leave until the boy was safe.  Then he .  cided he'd go
inside and try to find Carolyn's number, so that he could tell her
about her mother.

He stood there in the front yard, waiting for the lady across the
street to answer the door.  But she didn't.  Billy rang the bell again
and again, then finally came back across the street to stand on the
sidewalk again.

"I forgot.  She went to visit her grandkids," he said.  Drew watched as
the boy's eyes turned all watery.  He struggled not to cry, choosing to
bite his lower lip instead~ He had Carolyn's eyes, too, a deep, dark
green.

"Okay," Drew said.  "We've got a problem.  What are we going to do with
you?"

The boy looked at the ground, scuffed his shoes on the sidewalk and
wiped away a tear.  Drew thought he seemed terrified of being here
alone with him.  "What's your name, son?"

"Billy."

Drew had to smile.  The kid had no clue.  "Billy what?"  "Billy
McKay."

"I'm Drew," he said, but made no move to shake the boy's hand.  He
didn't want to Spock him by trying to touch him.  "And you know
Carolyn?"

"Uh-huh."

"How do you know her?"

"She's my sister."

That took a little while for Drew to absorb.  "You mean Grace McKay is
your mother?"

The kid nodded.  "Did the ambulance take her away?"  "Yes," Drew
said.

"Is she gonna he okay?"

"I think so."  He didn't have the guts to tell him anything different,
not when he was so upset already.  '

They both just stood there and stared at each other for a minute, both
of them at a loss.

Carolyn had a little brother?  He supposed that was possible.  He
guessed her mother would be in her late forties, from what he
remembered, and women were having children later and later in life now.
Also, it wasn't that uncommon for people who had lost one child to have
another.  Some people had told him it helped to have someone else to
love and to fill the time and the silence left behind, although Draw
wondered where they found the courage to bring another child into this
crazy, mixed-up world.

It seemed an awful risk to' take--seemed they'd he scared of having
someone else to lose.

It was cynical of him, but then, he'd turned into a cynical man.  A
cynical, solitary man.  Sometimes--nO, most of the time--it didn't seem
so bad, having no one and nothing to lose.

He didn't have anyone at all in his life who was truly important to
him.  He couldn't have said he regretted that, at least not very
often.

Drew felt something tugging on the jacket of his suit, looked down and
saw the boy.

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he said.  Drew finally smiled.
"I know.  That's a good rule."

"But I want to go see my more."

"Okay, what if we call your sister?  Would you like that?"

The kid hesitated and looked even more worried.  "I

don't know if she can come.  "

"Why don't we try?"

Drew turned and started up the walkway to the house.  Billy lagged
behind.

"Hey, mister, wait," he said.  "I'm not supposed to let anyone into the
house if I don't know them."

"Okay, do you know Carolyn's number?"

He shook his head.

Drew thought that was strange, but he didn't say anything~ He'd thought
he'd just let the kid go inside by himself and call.  Carolyn could
tell him that he didn't have to be afraid of Drew, then the two of them
could wait there together for her to come get him.

Drew didn't like trying to talk kids around the safety rules they'd
been taught.  He would have just flashed his badge and told Billy it
was Okay to talk to him, but any two-bit crook could buy a phony badge
and talk kids into just about anything.  It ticked him off, and it made
it next to impossible to reassure a scared child, that it was all right
to talk to him.

"How about this, Billy?  You sit here on the porch.  I'll go inside,
find your sister's number, and I'll call her.  We can wait out here
together for her, okay?"

"Okay," the kid said, momentarily relieved.  "But I don't know if
she'll come."

Drew went back inside and headed for the phone.  He found a cordless in
the kitchen.  Reading the label on the base station, he saw that
Carolyn's numbers--both home and work--were programmed into the
speed-dial memory.  Grimly he pressed the one for her home.  He sweated
out five rings before he gave up on that and tried the work phone.  It
wasn't until the second call went through that he noticed it seemed to
take forever for the phone to dial the programmed number.

He thought the woman who answered the phone said, "Hope House," but he
couldn't be sure.

"Carolyn McKay?"  he said, only then realizing he'd used her maiden
name without even thinking about it.

But she must still be using it herself, because the woman gave him a
crisp "Just a moment, sir," then put him on hold.

Hope House?  The name meant something to him, but what?

He wondered where it was.  From the name, he'd thought it must be
somewhere in town, but now that he thought about it, there'd been too
many pulses on the line when the call went through.  He'd definitely
called long-distance.

He wondered how far away she was, wondered if he'd be seeing her
sometime today, or if she'd simply direct him to take the boy to
someone else in town until she could get there.

Drew wanted to see her.  He didn't think he could leave town without
doing that.  He didn't'Carolyn McKay," she said when she came on the
line.  She didn't sound at all like the girl he'd known, and yet she
did.  Her voice was calm, cool and authoritative, maybe a bit rushed.
Still, he sensed the vulnerability.

But how could he?  he argued with himself.  She said two little words
across a hair-thin wire, the first he'd heard from her in nearly ten
years, and he thought he detected something like that in her voice?  He
must be dreaming.  It was just the past--the image that he'd always
carried of her.  She'd been the most vulnerable person he'd ever known.
He'd come into her life at the worst possible time, and he'd hurt
her.

"Hello?"  she said.  "Is anyone there?"

Drew couldn't help it.  He wondered if she still wore her hair long and
loose around her shoulders, wondered whether she still had those
freckles on her nose and whether she ever let them show anymore.  He
wondered Damn He had to pull himself together here.  This wasn't the
time for a trip down memory lane.

"Carolyn?"  he managed to say.

"Yes."  She'd gone all wary on him now.  "Who is this?"

"It's Drew," he said, glad not to hear the slightest tremor in his
voice.

"Drew?"

"Don't tell me you forgot," he said, thinking he might brazen his way
through this.

He'd left her speechless.  For a moment, he believed they'd gotten
cutoff, but then he detected the faint sound of her breathing on the
other end of the line.

And then he found himself rushing into ~ business at hand, putting the
past where it belonged--in the past.

"Carolyn, I'm at your mother's house.  She's, uh ... she had a problem
this afternoon, and she's been taken' to the hospital."

"A problem?  What kind of a problem?  Is she all right?"  she said.

"I'm sorry.  I don't know much.  She was in a lot of pain, and it may
be her heart.  The par medics took her to Hope Memorial about twenty
minutes ago, and I'm here with Billy.  He says he's supposed to go to a
neighbor's if the house is empty, but the neighbor's away on
vacation.

didn't know what else to do with him, so I called you.  " He finished
to dead silence on the line.  " Carolyn?  " he said finally.

"Yes," she said.  "I'm--I'm sorry.  I'm just surprised, that's all."

"Of course," he said, rushing on.  "Where are you?  Do~ you want to
come get him?  Or is there someone else who can take care of him?"

"I don't know," she said.  "I'm in Chicago.  I could be there in about
three hours, if I drive straight through and get lucky with the
traffic.  I don't know who else could take care of Billy.  My father
died six months ago, and... Drew?"

"Why are you there?"

She sounded terrified by the very idea, and he wondered if there was
any way she could already know why he was here.  He didn't see how that
was possible, unless she somehow knew what he did for a living, and
that seemed unlikely.  And if she didn't know, he certainly didn't want
to get into it with her right now, on the phone.

"I'll explain when you get here," he said.

He would explain when she got there?

Carolyn nearly dropped the phone, just thinking about what possible
explanations he might have for being there.  What explanation could
there possibly be?

Drew was back in Hope.  He was at her parent~' home, and he was with
Billy.

Oh, dear God, he was with Billy.

Chapter3

' Carolyn?  "

From what seemed like a million miles away, she heard the voice. "Yes,"
she said, pulling the phone back to her ear.

"Did you hear what i just said?"

No, she hadn't.  Not a word.  She was so frightened, she'd been lost in
thought, worrying about her mother and imagining the worst possible
circumstances that could have brought Drew back to Hope, Illinois.

"I'm sorry," she said inW the phone.  "I've... I can't..."  And then
she simply gave up on explaining.  "What were you asking me?"

"About Billy?"

"Yes," she said, starting to shake now.  Hadn't he said he would
explain when she got there?

"He doesn't know me.  He just got the ambulance was leaving, and found
me here.  He's.  frightened of me.  Can you talk to him?  Tell him
everything's all right?"

"Of course," she said, ashamed of herself now.  Natu--rally Billy would
be frightened.  He knew, better than most children, how dangerous
strangers could he.

She heard the sound of Drew's footsteps as he moved through the house,
heard the sound of the door opening, then, from the occasional traffic
sounds, realized he must have taken the cordless phone outside.

There-was a long pause, then something Drew said that she couldn't make
out, followed by Billy's defiant answer.

"She won't come."

And Carolyn thought he must be crying then, because she heard something
that sounded like sniffling, and it wasn't coming from her.  Though her
eyes soon filled with t~u~s of her own, and her blood turned to ice in
her veins,

she made no sound that would have given her away.

Sloe won't come.

"Billy?"  she said, though it did no good.  He wasn't on the other end
of the line yet.

How could he think she wouldn't come?  She loved him with all her heart
and soul.  It was hard for her to be in Chicago, so faraway from him,
but it was also necessary.

She was only his sister, when she wanted to be so much more.  She'd
made her decision years ago, and 'she couldn't change her mind now--not
when so many people stood to be hurt by it.

Especially B'my.

And she would not let herself hurt Billy.

But judging by what she was hearing from the other end of the phone,
she'd done just that.  Carolyn had never heard him speak of her with
such anger in his voice.

"What do you mean, she won't come?"  she heard Drew say, when she could
bear to listen again.

"She never comes anymore.  Ever since my dad died, she's always too
busy to come and see us."

Oh, Billy, she thought helpl~sly.  Had she really given him that
impression?  That she was too busy to see him?

It's not that, she wanted to tell him now~ It's not that at all.

"She won't come," she heard him repeat defiantly.  And then,
mercifully, Drew clasped his hand over the phone.  At least, that was
all she could figure out, bemuse, for a while, she heard nothing from
the other end.

Drew had a hard time believing what he was hearing and seeing.  The boy
was quite upset, and he meant every word he'd said about Carolyn.

She's always too busy to come and see us.

He'd spoken so bitterly about her.  Drew couldn't reconcile the image
of the uncaring sister Billy believed her to be with the reality of the
girl he'd known.  Carolyn had been devoted to Annie.  She'd been lost
without the little girl, and she'd grieved alone, for the most part,
because her parents had been too caught up in their own pain to be any
real help to her.  That wasn't a criticism, it was merely a statement
of fact.  Some things were simply too overwhelming for people to
handle, and Annie's disappearance had been one of those things.

He hadn't been able to handle it himself.

So, he rationalized, maybe Billy was too much for Carolyn, as well.
Maybe, as she saw it, the risks were too great.  Maybe loving him would
be too dangerous for her to handle while she was still trying to make
sense of her siSter's

Maybe he could understand.

He wondered if he could ever explain it to the boy, if he got the
chance.  Of course, now wasn't the time.  He still had Carolyn on the
line.

With his hand still pressed against the mouthpiece of the phone,
hopefully blocking out the harsh words from the boy, Drew sat down on
the brick steps leading up to the porch and looked the kid straight in
the eye.

"Carolyn needs to talk to you, Billy," he said, in his best no-nonsense
law-enforcement-officer voice.

Drew gave the boy no choice--the boy had to either hold on to the phone
or let it fall to the sidewalk.  Billy chose to take it.

"Say hello to her," Drew said, prompting him.

The boy sniffled once, then backhanded his wet cheeks and wiped his
hand on his jeans.  Finally, he brought the phone to his face.
"Hello."

Their conversation was brief and stilted.  Billy had nothing but
uh-huhs to say to her.  He didn't even tell her goodbye, just handed
the phone back to Drew.

Drew put the receiver to his ear and heard the muffled yet unmistakable
sound of Carolyn McKay weeping.

Drew was no stranger to a woman's tears, and he didn't turn to mush at
the sight of a. woman crying.  In his business, more often than not,
the women he had to deal with were upset, many of them in tears.  He'd
grown immune to it all over the years, ~and he wouldn't have thought
any one's tears could get to him so hard and so fast.

But this was Carolyn.

She was different.  She made him ~eel as if his own heart might be
weeping inside his chest.  He felt the pain as if it were his own, and
wished he could make it so.  Once, it had been his mission in life to
make her laugh, to coax just one smile onto her pretty face.  It had
started as a sort of penance for him--a punishment for his sins,
whether real or imagined.  He'd helped bring on her pain over losing
Annie, so it was his duty to try to ease that pain as much as he
could.

Of course, it had been more than that.  She was much more to him than a
girl who'd lost her sister and had no one to turn to as she tried to
deal with that loss.

Once, Carolyn McKay had been everything to him.

And now she was hundreds of miles away, sobbing as softly as possible
on the other end of this phone.

"Aw, Carolyn..."  he said, the way he must have said her name a
thousand times before, the way he must have called out to her somewhere
deep in the night in the midst of some dream that would have been
better off forgotten long ago.

He simply couldn't help himself.  He still had dreams about her and the
way things had been between them.  That, in itself, was amazing, given
the time that had passed and the fact that they'd had absolutely no
contact in the intervening years.

"Don't cry, sweetheart," he said, the endearment slipping out as
naturally as her name.  Drew didn't even stop to question that.  He
just couldn't stand to hear her ~ry anymore.  "He didn't mean it.  I'm
sure he didn't.  It's probably nothing more than a misunderstanding.
You'll straighten it out in no time, once you get here."

"It's not what you think," she said, her breathing settling down now,
as she fought for control.  "Ever s'nice Dad died, six months ago,"
it's been so hard to be there.  My mother and I. we haven't been
getting along that well, and I've done what she asked.  I've stayed
away.  But .  I never imagined Billy would think anything like that.
Oh, God, Drew, I just didn't think of that.  "

"Carolyn, come on.  It's all right.  I'm sure you can explain
everything to him when you get here, okay?"

"All right," she said.  "I'm sorry.  I'm not usually like

' ~"I know."

It was a silly thing to say, but she'd seemed to need to hear it, so
herd said it.  And he believed it, too.  The girl he'd known would
never have been too busy to make time for a little boy.  He wouldn't
believe the woman could be like that, either.

"So, are you coming?"

"Yes.  I'll drive down.  I can get anything I need when I arrive.  With
luck, if I beat the rush-hour traffic, I'll be there by seven."  ~

"And Billy's all right with that?  You told him he could trust me?"

"Then we'll be here waiting for you."

And he didn't know what else to say then.  Apparently, neither did she,
because the conversation just died, but neither of them made any move
to break the connection.  Though tenuous at best, it was the only link
between them in more than nine years.

So they sat there for a moment, listening to each o~her breathe.  He
tried to picture her face as it would look now, but saw nothing but the
girl.

He'd loved her once.  He'd lived for her.

Drew closed his eyes and tried to reach back inside himself for that
feeling--of living for Carolyn, with Carolyn, within her.

She was so close now.  Three measly hours and she'd be here.  How would
that feel--to see her again, perhaps to touch her once more?

It couldn't possibly feel the same.  The years couldn't simply fall
away, and yet Drew felt somehow that they had.

Three hours, she'd said.  He didn't see how he could wait that long.

"I've missed you, Carolyn," he confessed, without one regret.  ~

"Oh, Drew..."  she said, and he thought he might have set off her
crying again.

"Drive safely," he told her.

The minute she got off the phone, Carolyn simply collapsed.  The phone
banged back down onto the receiver.  She wasted precious energy trying
to stay upright before giving in to the awful weakness invading her
limbs.

It was a LITTLE better when her head came down to the top of her
immaculate white desk.  She had this childish urge to take her arms,
her hands, and wrap them around her head, to try to block out the whole
world and hide here in her nice, safe office, surrounded by people with
whom she knew she was secure.

She looked at the lock on the door, the one she rarely used, and
thought about turning it now, thought about locking herself away here.
She could stay until the shaking stopped, until she could breathe again
and felt able to cope with the task ahead of her.

Bat she couldn't do that.  She didn't have time.  Her mother was sick.
That was so hard to believe.  Her mother was never sick.  She picke~l.
up the phone again, because she needed to call Hope Memorial Hospit91,
but she got sidetracked by thoughts of Drew.

Drew was waiting for her--Drew and Billy were waiting for her--and she
had to get to them.  Billy was frightened.  No doubt, Drew was angry
with her and waiting for an explanation--one she simply didn't have to
give.

Her corner office, behind its locked door, looked pretty good to her
now.  She was still shaking, and she wasn't certain she was getting
enough air into her lungs to satisfy her.  She wasn't sure when either
one of those nervous reactions would subside.

She hadn't been this out of control for years, and she couldn't help
it.

Carolyn looked dbwn at the notepad in front of her.  Sometime during
their conversation, Drew had given her the phone number for the
hospital, and she'd scribbled it on the pad.

It was so hard to believe--Drew was there.

He was waiting for her.

God, had he really said he'd missed her?

Nearly ten years and not a word from him, yet now h~ was back.  How
could that be?  People just didn't drop out of the sky and land in
Hope, Illinois.  He had a purpose in coming back, and she was afraid
she knew exactly what that purpose was.

He must be looking for someone--and it wasn't her.

He was after her son--their son.  A miracle, in the form of a child.

The boy the whole world thought of as her little brother.

He'd never understand what she'd done, especially when she didn't even
understand it all herself anymore.  Carolyn argued back and forth that
way with herself as she drove through the steadily falling rain that
had dogged her all the way from the outskirts of Chicago.

Once she'd pulled herself together, she'd quickly called the hospital
to check on her mother's condition--stable, though they weren't sure
exactly what was wrong with her.  Then she'd given a hasty explanation
to her secretary and gotten in her ear, beating the worst of the
afternoon traffic.

It wasn't that much of a drive, three hours in most eases, yet she'd
rarely made the trip in the past six months.  She had been busy.
Purposely, she kept very busy.  The schedule suited her, for it left
little time for anything else.  But that certainly wasn't the reason
she'd seldom made it back to Hope lately.

She'd gone often before her father died, even though the trip had been
quite painful for her.  The house, in many ways, remained a kind of
shrine to Annie, who'd been gone for ten years now.  Her room was still
intact, waiting for a little girl who no longer existed.  Her pictures
still hung on the wall, and that alone would have been enough to keep
Carolyn away from the house.

She had her own pictures of Annie, which she kept hidden away in the
back of a drawer and took out only once in a while, only when she
thought she could handle it.  But to just glance up at the living room
wall and see Annie's face, day after day, with no warning and no time
to prepare?  Carolyn couldn't take that.  She wasn't sure how her
mother could do that, either.

And, if Annie's memory wasn't enough, there was Billy, and her memories
of Drew.  The three of them gave her more than enough reason to stay
away, and somehow her recollections of them all had gotten hopelessly
intertwined in her mind.  Carolyn couldn't s~parate the memo-ri s of
one from another.

She'd adored Annie, and she'd lost her.  She'd loved Drew, the way she
hadn't loved another man since, and he'd left her.  Carolyn had tried
hard to guard her heart against loving Billy, because she'd feared he
was lost to her before he had ever been born.

Of course, she hadn't really been able to do that.  Billy had found his
own very special place in her heart, and she loved him.  She loved him
too much.  More than she had a right to.  And she wanted things from
him that she couldn't have.  She wanted to give him everything--all the
love she had to give: But she wasn't free to do that.

For all he and the rest of the world knew, she was nothing more than
his older sister.  That was all she'd thought she'd ever he--until her
father died.

That had truly shaken her.  Besides missing him terribly herself, for
he'd been a wonderful father, she'd grieved for Billy and the loss he'd
suffered.

When she, at seventeen, had made the difficult decision to give her
baby to her parents to raise as their own, she'd known very clearly
what she wanted for him.  A loving father, a caring mother, a strong
family--strong despite the tragedy they'd experienced.

Her parents had married young, as soon as her mother got out of high
school, and they'd had her right away.  Her mother had been only
thirty-seven years.  old, her father forty, when Billy was born, and
both of them had been in good health.

Carolyn had felt sure that they'd be there to raise him to adulthood.
And she had to admit they'd needed Billy so much after losing Annie.
Billy had been their miracle, their reason for getting up in the
morning, for putting a smile on their faces, for going on living.
They'd devoted themselves to him, and Billy had flourished under all
that love.

If nothing else, she could reassure Drew with that.  Their son had
lived a wonderful, safe, happy life.  She'd done that one thing right;
she'd made sure Billy had all those things.

But her father's sudden death, from an anenrysm, had been a shock to
them all.  And it had created anew this terrible yearning inside
Carolyn, one that she'd fought for the past nine years and successfully
kept at bay, the yearning to be more to Billy than just a sister.

Of course, she couldn't do that.  She'd made her decision endless years
ago,~ and she couldn't go back on it now.  It wouldn't be fair to
anyone--least of all to Billy.

But she couldn't help how she felt.  She'd tried simply to bring the
subject out into the open for discussion with her mother about five
months ago, but the woman had hit the ceiling.  Things had been
strained between them ever since.  Carolyn knew her mother felt
threatened by her feelings for Billy, knew that it must be incredibly
hard for Grace to think about losing Billy so soon after losing her
husband.

But Carolyn didn't see it that way.  She didn't understand why her
mother thought she had to lose a child in order for Carolyn to gain
one.  Surely there was enough time and love for both of them to share
him.  Carolyn didn't want to take anything away from Billy.  She wanted
very much to give things back to him--his sense of security, for one
thing.

But she hadn't been able to explain that to her mother yet, and she'd
followed Grace's wishes and kept her distance these past few months in
hopes that the older woman would calm down and see things more
clearly.

And now her mother was ill?  She couldn't let herself think of all that
might mean.  Carolyn and Grace had their problems--what mother and
daughter didn't?  But she truly loved her mother, and she couldn't
imagine losing her.  Nor could she imagine what it would do to Billy.

Of course, while all this was raging inside her head, she also kept
thinking of Drew.

She was still angry at the way he'd 'walked away from her all those
years ago, but foremost in her mind was the fact that he'd somehow
found out about Billy.  He'd want an explanation for what she'd done;
he would insist on that.  And she'd never be able to make him
understand.

She could beg and plead and cry, if she sank so low that she reached
that point, but it wouldn't make any difference.  It wouldn't change
anything.  It wouldn't give him back the years with Billy, if he
regretted- the loss of those years and wanted them back.  And Carolyn
felt sure that he would.

He would he furious.  But, somehow, she would have' to get around his
anger.  She had to make him see this whole thing from her point of
view.

It wasn't as if she didn't hate herself for what she'd done--but it was
a futile exercise.  She couldn't change the decisions she'd made in her
life.  She couldn't explain the things that had happened, or find any
useful purpose in ~them all.  And she had no insights that had ever
allowed her to accept it-all with grace, as a better woman might have
done.

She'd had Drew Delaney's son, without ever letting him know the child
existed, and she'd given up that child without ever giving Drew the
chance to have a say about what happened to the boy.

It was the irrefutable truth.

What could possibly matter so much after that?

Chapter4

She'd braced herself to drive down that familiar street, to walk into
that house and see them--and it had all been for nothing.  ~

They weren't there.  ~

Instead, she found a note in what had to be Drew's handwriting.  That
alone shook her, holding something that he'd written, She'd waited
years for just a letter from him--something, anything, to explain why
he'd sun ply disappeared from Hope.  And she'd gotten nothing.  He'd
never written a word.  Now, he'd been in her parents' house.  He'd been
there when the ambulance took her mother away and when the school bus
dropped Billy off.  It was all so strange and so hard to believe.

Billy had gotten upset, he told her in the note.  He'd wanted to see
his mother, and Drew had decided to take him to the hospital for a
visit while they waited for Carolyn to arrive.  She wondered if the two
of them were still at the hospital, wondered where she'd rather face
them--here in the house, by herself, or in a hospital full of
strangers.

Carolyn leaned against the living room wall for a moment, her eyes
carefully downcast so that she could avoid seeing any of the
pictures--either those of Annie or the ones of Billy.  She concentrated
hard on trying to stop shaking.  She had spells like this, when she
simply couldn't stop shaking.  Her therapist would probably have some l
two-hundred-dollar word for it, but she simply called them spells.  The
past caught up with her sometimes, and when it happened she couldn't do
anything but shake.

She'd had them since the age of seventeen, s'nice Annie had
disappeared, since the time she'd faced the fact that Annie wasn't ever
coming back.  And she tried not to make a big thing out of them.
Everyone had problems, some worse than others.  People coped in
different ways.  Some drank.  Some smoked.  Carolyn got the shakes eve~
now and then.  It didn't sound so bad when she thought of it that
way.

But she'd have to control it now.  Billy didn't need to see her this
upset.  And Drew?  She suspected it wouldn't matter that much to him.
No doubt he'd he too angry to care about her own problems, because
she'd taken his son from him.

In that instant, Carolyn knew she had no time to waste.  ~ She'd much
rather find them at the hospital than here at home~ Strangers were
definitely preferable to the privacy of these walls.

She gave herself the luxury of a few deep breaths, now that the worst
of the shakes had passed, then walked back out the door.  Hope Memorial
was only ten minutes away.  Sooner than she would have liked, she was
walking down a hallway at the hospital, following the instructions the
receptionist had given her to help her find her mother's room.

She couldn't imagine her mother suffering a heart attack at
forty-seven.  Her mother was never sick.

She rounded the last corner, found room 203, then quickly scanned the
corridor for any sign of Drew or Billy.  She nearly missed them.  Just
when she'd decided to turn and go into the room, she caught the sound
of Drew,s voice coming from a room down the hall.

Her' head whirled around, her gaze zeroing in on a room about ten feet
away and to the right.  Room 203, her mother's room, was just to the
left, and she thought about slipping in there, taking the coward's way
out--but Drew's voice was so compelling.  He was right here, right on
the other side of that wall, and she hadn't seen him in so long.

Even though she dreaded what was sure to take place between them, she
wanted to see fiim so badly.

Still, she should have waited.  She should have headed back down the
hall and hidden herself away, just for a few moments, and she would
have, if she'd thought it would do any good.

But it wouldn't.  No amount of time would have allowed her to prepare
for this moment.  There was no way to be prepared.  It was an
unmanageable situation.  She'd been involved in too many of them not to
recognize that.

She wondered if he'd hate her for what she'd done, even as she took
that first step toward him,

Carolyn was careful to stop just outside the open door, which was
marked Family Waiting Room.  Not wanting to draw attention to herself
just yet, she somehow managed to keep silent.  But it was hard' It was
incredible and exhilarating and frightening--all at the same time.  The
emotions rolled over her, like waves breaking over her head, choking
her.

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she drank in the sight of the two of
them, together for the first time.

Drew had his back to her, and he was down on one knee so that he could
look Billy in the eye.  She took a moment to study them both.  Carolyn
couldn't tell much about how

Drew looked now, except that his hair was now short, but still full of
those small, tight curls, and he still had a beard.

Billy had Drew's hair, even had it styled in nearly the same way;
curling waves of golden brown, clipped close to his head and brushed
back from his face.  Billy's was lighter, but time would change that.
Someday it would be as dark and brown as Drew's was.

Her son had his walk, too, that loose swaying of his backside and those
long legs.  She'd tried not to notice over the years, tried not to
search through her mind for memories of Drew with which to compare him,
but it was one of those inevitable things.  It could not be avoided.
They were father and son.  NatUrally, they were alike in so many
ways.

Billy got up from the chair, and Carolyn quickly stepped sideways,
hiding herself behind the doorway, buying her; self a few more moments
to herself Billy seemed so much taller now.  The last time she'd seen
him had been three months ago, when she'd come here to try to talk to
her mother.  He seemed to have grown so much in just a few months.  The
time just flew by--another month, another season, another year of his
life that she'd missed.  He seemed so grown-up now, she could hardly
believe it.

Carolyn was bracing herself for the walk through that door when she
realized Billy was becoming upset.  Drew held him by the arms when the
boy tried to pull away.

"Wait a minute," he said.  "What's wrong.9 What are you so afraid
of?"

"She's going to die," Billy said, his lower lip trembling now.  "My
mama's going to die."

Carolyn once again-had to press a hand over her mouth to stay silent.
Could that be true?  Was the situation much more serious than the nurse
had led her to believe when she called to check on her mother's
condition?

"No, she's not," she heard Drew tell Billy.  "She's just had a rough
time of it since your father died, and she hasn't been taking care of
herself the way she should.  But that's all it is, Billy."

The child just shook his head defiantly.  "She's going to die, just
like my dad, and then I won't have anybody."

Carolyn should have spoken up then.  She should have been the one to
take him in her arms and promise him that he'd never be alone in this
world, but it was Drew who was there instead.

Drew, already on his knees in front of Billy, hauled him up against his
chest and held him there, despite the resistance Billy put up.  He held
on to him until he wasn't fighting anymore, until Billy's head came
down to Drew's shoulder, his arms closed around Drew's neck, and sobs
shook his whole body.

It should be me, Carolyn thought.  I should be holding on to Billy that
way.  He should have come to me, and I should have been there for
him.

Instead, she stood alone in the doorway.  With her back rigid, the
breath frozen in her lungs, her arms wrapped around her own waist, she
tried to hold herself together with nothing but the memory of what it
had felt like to be in Drew's arms.  He'd held her just like that, so
many times.

It should have been me, she'd told him, so many years ago.  I should
have been the one who was walking by myself that day.  I should have
been the one who was taken.  Annie should still be here.

Somehow, everything in her whole life had started and ended with
Annie's disappearance.

Drew had heard it all from her, many times before.  He'd understood,
and he'd tried to comfort her, to help her make sense of it all as well
as two teenagers could understand something that left adults absolutely
baffled.  She'd lost Annie.  She'd lost Drew and their son.  Oh, God.
What a mess.

From inside the tiny waiting room, she heard Billy call out. "Carolyn's
mad at us, and I don't think she loves us anymore," he said. "I heard
her and morn yelling at each other the last time she was here.  She's
selfish and mean.  I heard my mom tell her so.  And she won't come."

Drew yelled at him then.  "Billy!  That's enough."

"I'm telling you, she's not coming."

"She's right over there," Drew said, settling that whole argument,
leaving both her and Billy speechless.

Carolyn stared from one of them to the other.  Drew let go of Billy,
stood and turned around to face her.  By the way he was looking at her,
as if he would have done anything to have kept her from overhearing
those words, she decided he must pity her.  That fact, and nothing but
that, was what she needed to hold herself together.  It was by Sheer
force of will that she kept her tears from falling.  Her shoulders
didn't sag, and her chin went up another fraction.  She would not have
Drew feeling sorry for her he-cause of the mess she'd created.

Billy didn't say anything.  If he could tell how much he'd upset her,
he didn't seem to care, because he stood deft-antly by Drew's side.

She wanted to go to him then, wanted to wrap her arms around him and
never let go.

H~r son thought she didn't care about him.  He thought she couldn't
even spare a day or so here and there to come to see him.  He seemed to
honestly believe that the only mother he'd ever known was going to die
and leave him all alone in this world.  He had no idea how wrong he
was.

"Billy..."  she began, but she couldn't get anything else out.

He turned to face her, obviously uneasy about having been overheard.
His lower lip was trembling, and his face was streaked with the remains
of his tears.

Carolyn felt his pain like a dagger shoved into her chest.  She would
have done anything in this world to keep from hurting him, even if it
meant hurting herself.  And he didn't seem to understand that at all.
She didn't see how she could explain it ~o him, either.

He hesitated for a minute.  She held out her arms to him in a silent
invitation as she watched him wavering.  Then he brushed right past
her.

"I'm going to see my morn," he told Drew, pointexily ignoring her as he
walked out the door and into the room across the hall.

Carolyn watched him go.  She stood there in the hallway as the door to
her mother's room slowly slid shut behind Billy.  She stood there
trembling, her stomach in knots, not knowing what to do next.

Drew was watching her; she felt that so clearly, though she had her
back turned to him now~ He was waiting, and she had to turn around and
do something, tell him something, yet she had no idea what.  She'd
never find the words.  She'd never make him understand.  And right now
she was too worried about Billy to even try.

"I'm going to go talk to Billy," she said, without turning around to
face him.  But Drew would have none of that.  He took her by the arm
and turned her around, pulled her into the room with him and 'closed
the door.

"I have to talk to him," she said.  "I have to explain.  I have to go
to him, and"

"In a minute," he said, quite calmly, quite gently.  "First I think
you'd better sit down, before you fall down."

"I..."  She didn't know what to make of that.  Her eyes darted around
the room, taking in the beat-up old couch, the uncomfortable plastic
chairs, the magazines scattered across the end tables, the emptiness.
Mostly the emptiness.  She was alone here with him, when she'd so hoped
for the presence of strangers to act as a buffer between them.

Carolyn shook her head sadly.  Her tears lay heavily in her eyes, stiff
threatening to overflow, and she wished she'd been the one to end up
standing against the wall, the way he was, instead of here in the
middle of the room, with nothing to lean on, nothing to hold her up.
Because he was right.  She might well fall flat on her face.

"Drew, it's not usually like this between us," she had to tell him.
"Things have just been so difficult ... since my father died.  I had no
idea Billy was so angry at me."

As he watched her struggling with her composure, watched her literally
swaying on her feet, Drew didn't know where he'd find it in his heart
to tell her what had brought him back to Hope, or about the role he'd
played in her mother's collapse.  There'd be time for that later, when
she was up to hearing it.

Rig~ now, he didn't think Carolyn could take much more.  Hell, he
wasn't sure he could.

He was having trouble believing he was finally in the same room with
her.  She looked just the way he remembered her, beautiful, endearing,
and heartbreakingiy vulnerable-such a dangerous combination~

Drew wasn't sux~ what had happened between Carolyn and her mother and
her brother, but he'd seen right away that it had left her as torn up
as he'd ever seen her.  She looked almost as upset as she'd been when
Annie disappeared.

He'd tried to comfort her then, to ease the guilt she carried, even as
he tried to ease his own.  He'd held her so many nights when she sobbed
her heart out, and he warned todo that for her right now.

"Carolyn," he said, taking a first step toward her, wanting to erase
all the years between them with just one embrace.

She stepped back, alarm showing clearly on her face.  "It's all right,"
he said, reaching for her hand, taking it in his and drawing her closer
with it.  Gently, the way he might have approached a frightened kitten
that had been backed into a corner, he stroked his fingers over the
back of her hand.

"I..."  She stared down at their intertwined hands, as if she couldn't
believe he was touching her, then looked into his eyes.  "I messed it
all up, Drew."

He'd held her so many times, Drew told himself.  How much could one
more time matter in the scheme of things?  Carolyn was hurt and upset.
She needed someone, and he was here.  How many others had he held on to
for a moment, just because they were upset and he was there?  Countless
numbers.  It didn't mean anything.  At least, it didn't have to.

He'd done it so many times for strangers.  Surely he could do it for
Carolyn, as well.

Drew wrapped both his hands around the one of hers that he'd managed to
get hold of before she turned all skittish and shy on him.  Her hand
was soft and small, cd to the touch, and there was a fine trembling
within her that went all the way down to her fingertips.

What in the world had happened to her?  She seemed as vulnerable as
ever, and he couldn't stand that idea.  He'd believed her whole life
would have come together after he left--that the healing would have
started, that she'd be whole and happy by now.

He'd thought all he had to do was leave .  "I'm sorry," she said,
choking back the distress that threatened to overtake her, trying to
pull her hand away from his.  "I just ... I can't believe what a mess
I've made of all this."

But Drew wasn't ready to let go of her, not just yet.  It had been too
long since they'd been together for him to' give her up so fast.  He
took another step closer.  One hand continued to hold hers, while the
other slid along her forearm to her elbow.  He cupped it in his
hands.

Her eyes, huge and roktnded now, fringed with smoky brown lashes spiked
together by her tears, locked on his.

Clearly, she'd been so distressed before that she didn't realize how
close he'd gotten to her.  The breath stuck in her throat, the fine
trembling that was coursing through her body not so fine anymore.  He'd
been right; she might fall if she didn't sit down soon.

"Carolyn," he whispered, hating to break the silence, hating to end the
spell they were caught up in.  "It's go' rag to be all right."

And he smiled at her then, because he wanted to reassure her, not
frighten her.

Why would she be so frightened of him, anyway?  He didn't have time to
stop and figure it Out.  He took the hand that he still held and
pressed it to his chest.  She swallowed hard and made one last attempt
to step away from him.

Clearly, she wasn't used to having anyone see her this way.  He'd have
bet money that she didn'.  t have anyone to hold her when she cried,
either, and he couldn't have said whether that made him happy or sad.

He would make her sad, though.  The reason he'd come back to town--the
matching clothes, the other little girl who'd disappeared, yet been
found safe and sound--it would take her back in time, to the worst days
of her life.  He was going to hurt her, and he didn't want to.  But his
job meant he would.  It was a commitment he'd made when he was put on
Sara Parker's ease.  It wasn't enough just to have the child back.  He
l~ad to find the man who'd taken her, and when he did that he might
finally figure out what had happened to poor little Annie McKay.

All of that was going to be hard as hell on Carolyn, and if he could
help her now, if he could hold her and make her feel a little bit
better about whatever combination of things was tearing her up inside,
he'd do it.  He owed-her that much.

And besides, he wanted to hold her so bad, he'd have cut off his right
arm for the privilege.

Ten years gone by, thousands of miles--and despite it all, he just
wanted to hold her so much.  It was staggering how much he wanted that
simple connection with her one more time.

"C'mere, sweetheart."  He folded her into his arms, easing her toward
him, inch by torturous inch, until the wonderful, familiar weight of
her body settled against his.

She resisted right up until the end.  Her back was ram-rod-straight,
her head was held high and proud, and the look in her eyes was telling
him that he'd caught her by surprise and frightened her at the same
time.

"What are you so afraid of?"  he asked.

She opened her mouth, then paused, asif she 'didn't know what to say.
Finally she just shook her head as her eyes flooded with tears once
again.

"Carolyn?"  He was intrigued now.

"You're not... mad at me?"  she said.

"Mad?  Why would I be mad?"  He couldn't imagine.  And then, with a
little gasp, she just melted against him.  All the fight went out of
her, and she turned boneless in his arms.  He guided her head down to
his chest and held-it there with his hand in her soft hair, his chin
resting on the top of her head.  Her breasts were pressed against his
chest, her arms were anchored around his waist and holding on for dear
life.

He remembered now how this had felt.  He remembered everything about
holding her and trying to comfort her the best he knew how.  He
remembered the way she'd had of making him feel like a man, the way
she'd clung to him as if he were the only solid thing in her world.

"Let it go, sweetheart.  Let it all out," he said, and she finally
started to cry.

For Carolyn, being in Drew's arms was like coming home.  Of course, she
couldn't know if the similarity was exactly true, because she didn't
have a home.  She had a

house.  An apartment, really, one that might as well be

~npty, for all the care and effort she'd put into trying to make it a
home.  She had a f~v friends she seldom saw, lots of business
associates who were dear to her, yet carefully kept at a distance when
it came to her private life.

She had a mother she hadn't seen in months--all cause of some
destructive mixture of guilt and anger over things Carolyn could not
change.  She had a son who didn't know she was his mother and probably
never would kn~w,

a father she wanted to believe was in heaven now and felt no pain, no
emptiness, no sense of loss.  And she had a sister who might as well
have van isle into thin air.

That was it--the sum total of her personal life.

She didn't r~m~mber the last time she'd given in to the luxury of
letting go like this and crying her eyes out.  And she couldn't
remember the last time anyone had been around to witness it, much less
wrap her up in his big,

strong arms and hold her the way Drew was.

He wasn't even mad at her, and that was an absolute impossibility.
She'd known he would be furious, and justly so, she thought.  But he
wasn't.  He was tender and kind,

warm and strong, incredibly handsome and so achingly familiar.

This couldn't be real.  She knew that, even as she clung to him, much
too long after her tears had stopped falling.

He said he'd missed her.  Imagine that.  He'd 'told her everything
would be all right, and she loved him just for saying it, even if there
was no way it could be true.  But she'd needed so much to hear it, and
he must have known that.  Somehow, he'd always known what she needed.

Oh, Drew.  " she said, then felt the touch of his hand in her hair turn
into a caress instead.  He threaded his fingers through the strands,
then brought a handful up to his nose and drew in the smell of them,
then kissed them softly.

She couldn't do anything but shiver at the incredibly intimate
gesture.

"I've missed you so much," he said, and it was so sweet to hear it,
despite the obvious questions his admission automatically brought to
mind.

Why had he left?

Why had he stayed away?

In this instant, she didn't care.  She was just so happy to have him
back.  Even if it didn't last, even once the past interfered, she would
savor this precious moment with him.

He was so warm and so solid, the feel of him so familiar, it
overwhelmed her and it made her so hopeful,

Maybe the world wasn't falling apart.  Maybe he would stay.  Maybe
she'd find a way to trust someone again, to believe that not everyone
would either walk out on her or be snatched away.  Maybe they could
find a way to be together-her and Drew and Billy.

Oh, God.  Billy.

He was so upset and worried.  She had to find him.  She had to
explain.

Abruptly she pushed him away, then backed away herself.  The three
steps she took-seemed like a mile, but she managed to take them, then
hold her hands up in front of her to keep him from closing the distance
again.

"Wait a minute .... " Drew protested.

"Billy," she reminded him.  "I have to find Billy."

"In a minute," he said.  "I want to know about you.  Are you all
right?"

"Yes."  She actually managed to sound halfway convincing.  "I am
now."

Carolyn's face flooded with heat at all that confession implied.  Now
that he'd held her so tenderly in his arms and she'd bawled her eyes
out, she was all right.

But she had to get back 'on solid ground.  She wasn't seventeen years
old anymore, and Drew wasn't her savior.

She was on her own now.  She'd made this mess.  She'd have to try to
sort it out as best she could.

"Are you sure?"  he asked, and it was only then that she realized she
was swaying on her feet.

She supposed that was better than leaning over her desk or against the
wall, shaking like a leaf, but it still left a lot to be desired.

"I'll be fine," she said.  "I'm not usually like this, really.  I'm
usually "

Cool, calm, quiet.

Unemotional?

She liked that word.  She'd strive to attain that state of mind.  It
didn't sound nearly so bad as the truth--that she'd simply shriveled up
inside herself, to the point that nothing and no one mattered to her
that much.

She was utterly and absolutely alone in this world, by her own
choice.

It was safer that way.

It was manageable.

It was difficult and lonely as hell, but that was her life, her right,
her choice.

At least it had been until now.  Now Drew Delaney was back.  He'd held
her in his arms, stroked her hair, caught it to his lips and kissed it
tenderly--and she wanted him'.  It was next to impossible, but she
wanted him.

"Oh, Drew."  She sighed again.  It was impossible.  Then she ducked her
head, sidestepped her way around him and said, "I have to go find
Billy."

Chapter5

Carolyn walked out' of the waiting room and didn't let herself look
back.  She couldn't begin to explain what had just happened in there,
and she honestly couldn't even think about it right now: She had other
things to do that had to take precedence over Drew Delaney's return.

She looked up to find an old family friend, Dr.  Benjamin Moore, coming
out of her mother's room, and She took a deep, hopefully steadying
breath.

She couldn't help but wonder if he'd seen Drew and recognized him, then
put everything together.  Dr.  Moore, the family's doctor for three
decades or so, was one of the very few people in town who knew Grace
McKay hadn't given birth to the child she called her son.

"Carolyn," he said, a smile on his kind, well-lined face, something
harder to read in his eyes.  "I'm glad you're here.  I need to talk to
you."

One telltale glance at the waiting room--no doubt at Drew, standing in
the doorway behind her-Cand the doctor told her all she needed to know.
He'd definitely put everything together, and that was going to
complicate things greatly.

Not that he would tell anyone.  Carolyn was sure he wouldn't.

That wasn't what was uppermost in Carolyn's mind right now.  It was the
fact that Dr.  Moore had easily put father and son together.

How many more people in town had already done the same?  And how long
before the whole thing got back to Billy?

"Billy," she said to the doctor, seeing a way out' of this'
awkwardness, at least for a moment.  She needed it, to collect herself
and try to find a way to, at best, muddle through this.  "First, I need
to check on Billy."

"He's fine.  Worried, but other than that, fine.  He's watching some
kids' show on the television in there, and your mother's sleeping.  I
decided that more than anything she needed rest, and I've sedated
her,"

"Do you know what's wrong with her yet?  Drew said he thought it was
her heart."

He took her by the elbow and turned her toward the waiting room she'd
just left.  "Why don't you come and sit down with me for a few
minutes?"

Carolyn felt the tension in her escalate one more step, to the point
where it was certainly near the limit that she could endure.  How much
worse could this get?

She walked with the doctor into the waiting room.  Drew was still
there, and she felt compelled to introduce the two of them.

"We've met," Dr.  Moore said, when she started to make the
introductions.  "Mr.  Delaney was telling me about the discussion he
and your mother were having when she collapsed."

Carolyn sat down hard on the worse-for-wear tweed sofa.  The two men
took chairs on either side of her.  She couldn't look at Drew.  She
simply couldn't find it in her to face him right now, and she could
only imagine the kind of discussion he and her mother had been having.
It left her no doubts about the fact that Dr.  Moore knew exactly what
was going on.

"I'm sorry, Carolyn," Drew said.  "I never meant for anything like this
to happen."

She nodded in his direction, her eyes glued to the floor, surprised
that he would apologize, all things considered.  She'd certainly never
thought he'd meant to upset her mother so much that she landed in the
hospital.  "We don't need to get into this now, all Oght?  We will,
just not now.  All right?"

"Of course," he said.

Thank God for small mercies, Carolyn thought, then turned to the
doctor.  "How is she?"

"Well, she didn't have a heart attack," he said.  "You're sure?"  '

"Ruling that out is the easy part.  When the heart is damaged, there
are certain enzymes that spill into the blood from the damaged heart
muscle, and they're easily detected in blood tests.  We didn't find any
of those in your mother's blood."

"So what was it?"  Carolyn asked.

"I honestly don't know yeL I've ordered some more tests for tomorrow,
and we should know more then."

"That's it?"  Carolyn said.  There had to be more than that.  She had
to be able to tell Billy something.

"It may be nothing more than severe stress--some sort of panic attack.
That would account for her heart racing, for the shortness of breath,
as she got more agitated, even the pain in her chest.  It's not
uncommon for people to think they're having a heart attack under those
conditions.  For now, it's best that she rest, so I sedated her. She'll
probably sleep through until morning, and then we'll run some more
tests."

"Just stress?"  Carolyn was so relieved.

"Now, I don't want you to get the wrong impression," Dr.  Moore said.
"Stress can do incredible things to people.  Her heart rate was
dangerously high, as was her blood pressure."  '

"Is it serious?  Is it a life-threatening thing?"  Carolyn asked.

"Anytime your heart rate is that high, it's serious."  The doctor held
up his hands to silence her.  "But we don't know what the cause was.
The first thing I need to do is run some tests to rule out other
physical problems.  We'll know more tomorrow, so let's just leave it at
that.  Anything else I could tell you would be sheer speculation and
probably only frighten you needlessly."

"She nodded and didn't press further.

"Now, I have to go," the doctor said.  "If you want to see your mother,
that's fine.  But, as' I said, she's not going to wake up until
tomorrow morning, so you might as well take Billy and go on home."

"You'll call us, if there's any... change?"

"Of course.  Leave your number with the nurses."  He rose to go, then
turned back to Drew.  "Whatever you need from Grace is going to have to
wait.  She's not up to dealing with this right now.  She might not he
for a while."

Drew nodded.  "I'll see if Carolyn and I can't handle it by ourselves."
Carolyn closed her eyes and looked away.  She and Drew couldn't settle
anything without her mother.  No doubt he wanted Billy, whether to
simply see him on a regular basis or, God forbid, to try for
custody--it didn't matter.  They couldn't settle anything among
themselves, because Carolyn didn't have any rights where Billy was
concerned.  She'd given those up a very long time ago.

Drew must have known she had nearly reached the limit of what she could
endure, because he suggested that they all get out of the hospital and
go back to her parents' house.

"I v~ant to see my mother first, just for a minute," she said, still
not looking at him.

"Billy's in there," he reminded her.

She crossed her arms in front of her and shook her head.  Billy.  Her
mother.  Drew.  No matter where she turned, it just got worse.  Drew
must have seen the despair in her face, and amazingly, despite all that
she'd done to him, he still had the capacity to be kind to her.  It
amazed her.

He walked over to the sofa where she sat, and stood beside her.  One
hand went to her back, making small circles there, his touch steadying
her, his warmth creeping into her.

She fought it with all she had, but the invitation was too much to pass
up.  He was right there, so solid and so big, so willing to cOmfort her
in any way he could.

That part still amazed her--that he cared enough to want to comfort
her, when she was the one who'd kept this awful secret from him.

But she knew what was facing her when they got home.  She had to try to
explain things to Billy, and then she had to explain them to Drew.

How in the world would she ever he able to explain what she'd done to
Drew?

Her head came down despa'uingly as she struggled for control.  Drew
took a little step closer, and before she knew what was happening, her
face was pressed against one of his thighs.  The hand at her back went
to her hair, holding her close against him.

"We'll deal with it, Carolyn.  We'll get through it all.  I promise you
we will."

A few moments later, Carolyn watched, in something of a daze, as Drew
crossed the hallway to her mother's room.  She heard him lure Billy out
with the promise of a soda and a discussion about what kind of take-out
food they were going to order for dinner, then left her for a few
minutes alone with her mother.

Carolyn entered the room and noted how a ~ardiac monitor displayed the
now-regular, if slightly fast, beating of her mother's heart.  Grace
had an IV in her left arm, but that was the extent of the equipment
hooked up to her.  Her face was terribly pale, and the lines around her
eyes were deeper than Carolyn remembered.  And she looked so frail.
Somehow, frail was one word she'd never associated with her mother.
Even after Annie had disappeared, even after her father had died.

Maybe it was simply age, Carolyn thought.  Although her mother was only
forty-seven.

She reached out to take her hand.  Finding it cool to the touch, she
tried to warm it between her own hands.

Grace McKay was a good mother.  She expected a lot from her children.
She wouldn't tolerate back talk or misbehavior, but she was strong and
loving and steadfast.  Billy had been happy with her.  He'd been safe
and happy and healthy.

What more could a mother want for her child?  Carolyn had pondered over
that question day after day.

Through her work at Hope House, she saw the runaways, the teen
prostitutes, the drug addicts, the hopelessly inadequate and terribly
young teenage mothers.  After seeing the way some children turned out
these days, it seemed selfish of her to want more than to know her son
was healthy and happy and safe.

But she did.

She wanted much more than that.

She wanted him back.

Feeling absolutely overwhelmed, she lowered her head to rest atop her
mother's hand, clasped of her own, and considered offering up a prayer,
she wasn't sure there was anyone out there to hear it.  It

Sally 2~yler Hayes 65

came out as nothing more than an incoherent plea for help--for herself,
her mother, her son, and his father.

Billy and Drew decided on carryout pizza for dinner, and Carolyn was
grateful to Drew for going to pick it up himself so that she could have
a few minutes alone with Billy.  She didn't want to have her talk with
him with Drew listening in.

She didn't try saying anything to him in the car.  Once they got to the
house, he headed straight for his room.  She gave herself five minutes
to formulate some kind of plan for what she would say to him, then
followed him.

Billy's room was cram-packed with everything an eight-year-old boy
could possibly want.  An antique electric train set, a skateboard, a
computer, an electronic keyboard.  She hated to admit that she'd bought
all of these and more.  She couldn't seem to resist the urge to buy him
presents.  Right now, he was sprawled out on the floor, in front of the
controls to the video game set she'd bought him two Christmases ago.
The screen of the TV to which it was attached was alive with color and
a flurry of movement as he tried to escape from some evil villain's
spaceship

"Billy?"  she said between blasts of super laser torpedoes.

He didn't answer.

Carolyn turned off the TV, earning herself a look of pure venom.  She
winced and tried ~to tell herself that mothers endured things like this
all the time, so she ought to be able to take a few without falling
apart.

Still, she couldn't escape the doubts.  What if he found out what she'd
done one day, and he hated her for it?  How could she endure that?  How
could she explain?

what if Drew made her tell Billy?  He might well insist on that very
thing tonight, when he returned.  How would she handle that?

She looked down at her little boy, his defiance fading, his doubts
setting in.  He was so much like Drew sometimes, she couldn't
understand how the whole world didn't know whose child he really was.
It was so clear to her in the shape of his body, the slim hips, the
long legs, the lanky arms that would be thick with muscles someday.

Billy walked over to his dresser and picked up a small picture of her
and Annie when they had been close to his age, and bent his head over
it.  Carolyn tried not to wince at the image of her sweet-spirited,
smiling sister.

"Do you think Annie's in heaven?"  Billy asked, throwing her totally
off-balance.

Carolyn gave herself a moment to take that in and think about it.  What
did she really believe?  That Annie was dead?  Most certainly.  That
she would go to heaven?  Definitely.  That there truly was a heaven?  A
God who let innocent children suffer so?  That was where her doubts and
her anger started.

"I think" -- she chose her words carefully "--that An hie would
definitely have gone to heaven."

"And my dad?"

"Yes," Carolyn said, unable to figure out where this was leading.  '

"Do you think Mama wants to go to heaven, too?"  had his back to her
now, but she knew from his tone of voice that they were close to the
crux of the problem.  "Someday," Carolyn said.

"But she misses them both so much.  She's told meso, and I thought,
maybe she misses them so much she's decided she wants to go to heaven
now, so she could be wit[ them ."  '

"Oh, Billy."  Carolyn sat down on the edge of his bed, close to him,
but not ~touching him.  She was suddenly: afraid of touching him.  Once
she got him in her arms, how would she ever let go.  She would never
leave you, Billy, not voluntarily, anyway.  She loves you so much.  "

"But she loved them, too.  And my dad loved me, bat he's there now.  So
Mama might go too, right?"

Carolyn wanted to make blind reassurances to him that he'd never lose
the woman he called his mother, but you couldn't do that to a little
boy who'd lost the man he thought of as his father a mere six months
before.

"I know you're frightened," she said, feeling totally inadequate
explaining things to him that she could never begin to understand
herself.  "I'm frightened, too, Billy.  But I talked to the doctor, and
he thinks he can make her better.  He's running some tests tomorrow,
and after that, he thinks he'll understand what happened to her and how
to fix it."

"Really?"  he asked, smothering a sob with the hack of his hand.

"Really," Carolyn replied.

"Is she going to wake up tomorrow?"

"Yes.  The only reason she was asleep tonight was because the doctor
gave her some medicine to help her rest."

"Honest?"  "Honest."

"I was scared when she wouldn't wake up."  He'd made a quarter turn to
the side now, so she could see the tear tracks on his face, the
stubborn set of his jaw that showed he was still not ready to forgive
her.

"It-scared me, too," Carolyn said.

"And if she never woke up..."  He lost it then.  His precious little
face crinkled upin a superhuman effort to hold it back, but he lost it.
Billy started sobbing.  Stubbornly he stayed where he was, in the
middle of the room, neither inviting nor rejecting her touch.  His back
rigid, his eyes overflowing, he haltingly told her the rest.  "If she
never woke up... I don't know... What would happen to me?"

Carolyn dropped to her knees in front of him, then, amazingly, found
herself having to look up at him from this height.  It was.  amazing
how fast he'd grown.  Surely it

hadn't b~n that long ago that she could do this and be at eye l~vel
with him.

"Billy?"  She took his hand and made herself smil~ back at him instead
of crying.  "If anything ever happened to Mama, you'd have me."

He practically snarled at her through his ~ars, the little boy inside
him warring with the little man who wouldn't Wear his heart on his
sleeve.

"You haven't even been here lately" he sobbed, the hurt coming through
now, rather than the anger.

"Not b~ause I haven't wanted to be here."

"You're a grown-up, and grown-ups can do anything they want."

"Oh, Billy, you've got a lot to learn about being a grown-up.  I most
definitely cannot do whatever I want."

"May!~;" he conceded, "but if you wanted to be here, you could have."

Carolyn want~ to be as honest with him as poss~le.  But she couldn't
tell him everything.  Not tonight.  And ~ didn't think she could ever
t~ll him about this awful tug-of-war she felt caught in with her
mother.  She loved woman, but she envied her, as well.  Grace McKay had
Billy, Carolyn didn't think she ever would.  She didn't have the right,
not after all these years.  She knew that, but it didn't stop the
yearning for him.

No doubt her mother felt threatened by Carolyn's fee~- ~ ings, and she
was very vulnerable at this point so soon after losing her husband. Her
mother hadn't tually ordered Carolyn to stay away, but it had been
clear she wouldn't be welcomed, either.

She couldn't explain any of that to Billy.

Carolyn sighed as she stared at him.  "I love much, Billy."

That touched a nerve.

away, but got all choked up instead, which made all over again.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings because I haven't been here as much as
I should have these last few months.  I never thought you'd think that
you couldn't count on me, or that I didn't care about you anymore."

He shrugged it off, as if it meant nothing to him.  Eight-year-old boys
were like that at times, especially when they were trying hard to live
up to someone's idea of what a man should or shouldn't do.  Crying,
hugging, talking about their feelings, all were right up there at the
top of the list of things not to do.  Carolyn knew that.  It was the
only reason she didn't have him in her arms right now.

She settled for wiping one little curl off his forehead and felt
rewarded when he didn't pull back.  "And if you ever need me, I'll be
here for you?  Billy.  You won't ever have to be all alone in this
world."

Drew brought back pizza, and they ate it.  They called the hospital
once more, to find Grace McKay's condition unchanged, and then Carolyn
put Billy to bed.

She walked back.  into the living room, found it empty but the front
door open, then walked out onto the front porch.

Drew was standing in the shadows by one of the support columns,.
smoking a cigarette, the end glowing a bright reddish orange in the
darkness.

"Going to lecture me about my nasty habits?"  he said easily.

"No," she Said, trying not to concentrate too hard on how incredible he
looked now that she had a moment to study him.

She'd always known he'd make a handsome man someday, but she hadn't
been prepared for this, He still had the mustache and the beard, but
they were slim and trim these days, framing his face in a very elegant
way.  And his hair was still as thick, still curly, but he wore it
fairly short and brushed back from his face.  He had on a sleek, dark
suit,

instead of the jeans, boots and black leather jacket that had once made
him look so dangerous on his motorcycle.

But she still remembered the bike, remembered hanging on to him as they
sped through the streets.  She remembered it all so well, and seeing
him now seemed to have brought all these old adolescent feelings
roaring back to life inside her.  The excitement, the magic, the
intensity of falling in love for the first time.  It all came back so
vividly now.

She couldn't help but let her eyes trail over that tall, sleek body of
his, encased in that formfitting dark brown suit.  She knew the
shoulders were broad, the arms strong and muscular, the hands gentle.

If she closed her eyes, she could remember the feel of his body lying
atop hers.  She could feel the fine sheen of sweat on his back, the
slightly rough feel of his thighs 'intertwined with hers, the intensity
of the look in his beautiful brown eyes as they'd stared down at her.

Once, he'd meant the whole world to her.  He'd been the only thing in
her universe that was safe and solid and sure.  And then he'd left her,
devastated her, at the time when she needed him most.

If only he'd stayed.

She'd thought about it again and again, playing fantasy games with
herself.  Her and Drew and Billy together in a million different places
throughout the yearn, so happy they could hardly stand it.

She'd imagined it so many times, and now, here they were,
together--except it wasn't anything like her dreams

"Old Mrs.  Watson still on the corner?"  he asked, cigarette glowing
bright as he took a drag.

Carolyn turned toward the brick house on the left.  "Of course."  Some
things never changed.

"She's watching us," he said, obviously amused.  forgotten that--the
way people in little towns think theft right to know everything about
everyone else's business.  Wonder if she's figured out who I am yet.
"

"If she hasn't, she will soon enough.  She won't give up until she
knows.  Besides, I'm sure some people recognized you at the hospital
this afternoon, and Mrs.  Watson has connections all over town."

Carolyn was already resigned to the fact that they'd be the talk of the
town by morning.

Drew finished the cigarette and disposed of it in the empty soda can
he'd set on the porch railing.  He picked it up now and turned toward
her, then replaced the can and gave her a look that could have melted
butter.  Though he was two whole steps away, she could feel the power
he still had over her.  She was aware of him with every fiber of her
being.  She wondered if he could possibly feel that, too.

It amazed her.  Her whole carefully constructed life was falling apart
around her, and all she wanted to do was stand on the porch in the
darkness and marvel at how wonderful it was to see him again.

He took one more step toward her, his face bathed in shadows, making it
impossible to tell anything about his expression.  Yet she knew he was
looking at her.  She could feel it.  And she thought he must have
smiled, and somewhere in her short-circuiting brain she knew that
couldn't be right, that it didn't fit at all with the reason he'd come
back here.

It had to be Billy.  He must know, and he should be angry.  God knew he
had the right.

But he was smiling at her.  She was certain of it now that he'd come
one more step closer.  She could reach out and much him if she wanted.
She could walk right into his arms, and he'd hold her there.  Somehow,
she knew that too, and it simply didn't fit.

He gave her a look of pure mischief that would have made the devil
proud, then glanced back over his shoulder toward Mrs.  Watson.

"Want to really make her day?"

And then his lips came down toward hers.

"Dr~v?"  She was surprised, a little amused.

He caught her in his arms and lowered her into an elaborately
theatrical dip, then brought his head down until his lips were half an
inch from h~s.  She could just imagine what it would look like from
Mrs.  Watson's vantage point~ Laughter bubbled up inside her as he
brought her upright again.

She was still giggling, feeling almost giddy, as well, and utterly
caught up in this magic moment with him, when she caught him staring at
her again.

"What?"  she said.

He shook his head and sighed.  "You know, there was a time.  in my life
when I would have given anything to s~ you smile or to hear you laugh
like that There was a time when I lived to make you happy."

And then she knew that he hadn't staged this scene for Mrs.  Watson's
benefit.  He'd don~ it for her, just ashe had don~ things for her so
often all those years ago.  When whole world looked bleak and cold and
unforgiving, Dr~w could make it s~m ~ springtime.  He had the gift, and
he lavished it upon her.

"I lived to s~ you smile," he said soberly, his head bent downward, his
hand catching the end of her hair in his fingertips, then lingering
beside her shoulder at the spot where he'd captured it.  "I didn't even
know how much I'd missed you, Carolyn.  Not until I finally saw you
again.  It was hell being away from you all these years."

Carolyn was stunned, the breath simply leaving her body, and the
energy, as well.  She felt like a rag doll, boneless, bloodless, ready
to bend or break at his will.  ~

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

feel so good or so right, not after all this time, and ~ daily not
after the way things had ended between them.

Something wasn't right about this, and now that she had a moment to
think about it, it was starting to scare her a little.

As she'd told herself earlier, when she'd talked to him on the phone,
people just didn't drop out of the sky and land in Hope, Illinois.  He
was back for a reason.  And if it wasn't Billy, then what had brought
him here?

"Say something," he said softly.  His voice, coming to be pounds
through the darkness and the silence--the smoothness of it, the deep
pitch, the sweet familiarity--sent shivers of anticipation down her
spine.

"What do you want me to say?"  She chose her words carefully now, as
the uncertainty took over.

He shrugged, glanced around the porch, looked down the block, then back
at her.  "I thought you might hate me now.  Lord knows you have the
right.  At the least, I was sure you'd be angry at me, if you still
gave me a thought at all."

The knots in Carolyn's stomach, the ones that had finally eased when
they found that little girl in Indiana, were coming back now Stress
always hit her there, with her insides twisting upon themselves.  And
she was happy for the darkness and the things he couldn't see.

If he knew about Billy, he'd have to be angry at her.  But he wasn't.
He was wondering why she wasn't angry at him.

But she didn't want to think about that, not if she could help it.  She
wanted to go on with this conversation.  She wanted to hear the part
where he told her he still thought about her sometimes, that he missed
her and was glad to see her again.  Those were some of the sweetest
words she'd ever heard, ranking right up there with Billy telling her
that he loved her.

"Carolyn?"  His hand slid down from her shoulder, along her arm, to cup
her elbow.  "Tell roe you don't hate me."

She shivered again, and he must have felt it, must have attributed it
to the cold, because he slowly pulled her forward, stopping just shy of
having her in his arms.

"I did for a while," she adrnitte~l, having to try.  hard to
concentrate on what they were~ talking about.  A woman shouldn't have
to think when she was this close to a man like Drew.  "But I had a lot
of good memories of you, too, and I didn't want to lose them.  I wan
ted to hold on to the good.  times.  I needed to, and I couldn't quite
do that ~nd hate you at the same time.  So I let it go~'

It sounded lame, even to her, but that was what had happened.  It
hadn't been Drew's fault their whole world got turned upside down after
Annie disappeared, and if that had never happened, who was to say what
would have become of her and Drew?  She tried not to even let herself
get angry about it anymore, because it served no purpose.  The past was
an unforgiving place, and she had no intentions of living there.

"And now?"  His other arm came up to take her hand in his.  He held it
for a moment, then slid his hand along her forearm to her elbow.  With
her very nearly in his arms again, he stopped and waited.

What did she feel right now?  Giddy, almost drunk on the sight of him
and the sound of his voice, warmed from the heat coming off him, and so
very hopeful.

It was like stepping back in time, like waking.  up and finding that
the past ten years had been nothing but a bad dream.  He could still be
in love with her, she in love with him.  She could~ never have given up
Billy.  He could still be this tiny creature nestled safe and sound
inside her body.

What did she feel right now?  "Oh, Drew.  I couldn't begin to explain
it to you."

"Try," he said coaxingly, his voice as soft and smooth as warmed
honey.

"I can't believe you're back.  I..."

She.  paused.  She'd been so happy, so thrown off-balance by this whole
thing and his behavior, that she'd forgotten to be scared.  And she had
good reason to be scared.

Except he wasn't angry at her--not at all--and that didn't fit.  She'd
missed something here, something vital.  And she couldn't ignore that
any longer.

"Drew, why did you come back?"

Chapter 6

He went absolutely still, the magical mood broken as effectively as if
someone had doused them with ice water.  She heard him sigh once, felt
him staring at her through the darkness.

"You don't know?"  he said, his arms dropping to his sides.

She shook her head, certain now that she didn't want to know.

"I thought..."  He turned aside and swore "When the doctor was talking
to you, when he told youl was with your mother when she collapsed, you
you knew why.  I just assumed that he'd told you."

Carolyn had no idea what Drew was saying was here, but she was certain
of one thing--he wasn't at her.  He never had been.  If anything, he
was about whatever had caused him to return te whatever it was that had
brought him here,

Thank God, she thought, relief overwhelming wasn't Billy.  He didn't
know.  For a moment, she forgot everything else.  Drew didn't know!

But this also presented her with a whole host of other problems--such
as how she was going to tell him, and when.  And what would her mother
say?  What would Grace do?  What if Drew insisted on telling Billy? Her
mind was racing through a whole new set of questions with no answers.

"You really don't know?"  he asked,

Again, she could only shake her head.  Again, the warning hells were
going off inside her head.  Something was very wrong here.

Drew caught her in his arms this time and held her so tight she could
barely breathe.  He took his hand and pushed her face down against his
shoulder.  He was trembling, too; she could feel it now.  "You're
scaring me, Drew."  He only held her tighter.  "Sweetheart, I'm so
sorry."

He was acting as if he were about to tell her she'd lost her best
friend in the world, but that wasn't possible.  Her father had died
months ago.  Billy was~in the house, asleep.  Her mother was resting
comfortably; they'd called to check on her hair an hour ago.  And Drew
was holding her in his arms.  There simply wasn't anyone else in her
life who was really important to her.

Except Annie.

She couldn't say where the thought came from.  It just hit her like a
ton of bricks.  She was sure she would have fallen flat on her face if
Drew hadn't been holding her so tightly.

Annie.

This had to be about Annie.

"They found her body?"  she said, in a daze, not even saying her
sister's name aloud.

It wouldn't be so bad, she argued with.  herself.  Not after all this
time.  Annie was lost to them already.  She always had been, from the
day she disappeared.  Carolyn knew that.  She'd fought for years to
accept that.

Annie wasn't ever coming back.  And there would be some relief in
having a body to bury, in maybe finding out after all this time what
had happened to her.  Perhaps even, if they were lucky, finding the
person responsible and putting him behind bars, so that he wouldn't do
to anyone else what he'd done to Annie and the whole McKay family.

"They found her, didn't they?"

"No."  He whispered it against her ear.  Maybe he'd been telling her
that the whole time, and she'd.  simply been unable to hear him.  He
gave her a little kiss in the spot right beside her ear, as he
whispered it again and again.

- It took a while for it to sink in.  When hgr mother collapsed
earlier, she'd been with Drew.  What had he told her?

"I don't... I don't understand," Carolyn managed to say.

He was scaring her, and she knew that she must be scaring him, as well,
with her reaction.  She felt curiously detached from her body, so it
was no wonder she could barely ~ stand, no wonder he was so worried
about holding her

"I don't" -- She had to stop to breathe.  Why was it so hard to
breathe?  They were on the porch; she remembered that much.  It was
dark and cold.  No wonder she was tingling.  It was cold, and nosy old
Mrs. Watson was watching them, and Drew had claimed that he still
missed her.

It had been magic.

Pure magic.

And it had turned to this.

It was like that day so long ago, when Annie had disap

Through the fog that had filled her soul, she heard Drew calling to
her.

Annie, she thought.  He was trying to tell her about Annie, and she
didn't want to hear it.

After all this time, after asking God to please just let them find her,
to let them finally know for certain, Carolyn found that she didn't
actually want to know.

Suddenly, she became aware of Drew's hand on the side of her face, of
the way he'd forced her to look up at him and brought his head down to
hers,

"Carolyn."  She watched his lips move, and read the words coming from
them.  "Listen to me."

But she didn't want to listen.  She wanted to hide.  Carolyn McKay, all
grown up, all too familiar with the ways of the world and injustices
committed against even the most vulnerable of children, wanted to hide
her head in the sand and pretend that none of this was happening.
"Don't tell me," she pleaded.

"Shh ... just listen.  We didn't find her body."

Carolyn made a desperate grab for air, the blood rushing to her head,
the porch starting to revolve in tight little circles.  "You didn't?"

"No."

"Oh, thank God."

He gave her a minute to absorb that.  She tried to take it in, amazed
at the enormousness of her relief, amazed at the power this still had
to hurt her.

Ten years had passed, and for a moment, the feelings that came at her
were so strong, it felt the way it had the first day, the first hour,
even.

And then it hit her.  If it wasn't Annie's body that they'd found, and
if this wasn't about Billy, then what?  "What?"  She said it aloud this
time.

"I think I found the clothes she was wearing when she disappeared."

Reality slowly came back to her.  The roaring in her ears receded.  The
frightening void that had engulfed her, the tunnel vision that had
allowed her to see only her sisteffs face, was lessening.  Night
sounds--the crickets humming, the occasional blast of a car stereo as
it passed by on the street--came back to her.  She felt thee natural
coolness of the late-October evening, and not the chill of fear.  And
Drew.  She was with Drew on the porch, and he was the only reason she
was still standing.

"Her clothes?"  she said, at first able only to repeat what he'd
already told her.  "I think I need to sit down."

"Let's go inside."  He let go of her slowly and opened the door for her
to pass through.

The living room was dark, save for the lamp on the table in the corner.
Carolyn sat down on the big, overstuffed sofa.  Helplessly she felt her
eyes drawn to the pictures spotlit by the lamp.  Annie smiled back at
her with all the warmth and innocence of a thirteen-year-old.  Billy,
in the photo beside Annie's, smiled, as well.

Carolyn looked away, only then realizing that Drew was right in front
of her.  He'd sat on the edge of the table, which put him at eye level
with her.  His hands around hers, and his face wasn't more than a foot
from hers now.

"Annie's clothes," he said slowly, giving her.  time to take it in.
"The shorts set with the red-and-black checked tern, the one she
brought back from Texas.  You her?"

Carolyn nodded.  "She wore it to the picnic

God, that awful day.

"Yes, I remembered it from the picture of her we

-the fliers, and the ones the police gave the press.  "

"You found the red suit?"  Carolyn shook her head disbelief.  after all
this time?

When Annie disappeared, she'd been walking down the road from the city
park to [heir house, three blocks away.  She'd been going to retrieve
the loaves of fresh bread her mother had baked for a town picnic, the
bread Carolyn had been supposed to get.  As the investigators soon
realized, either Annie had taken a shortcut through the woods or
someone had lured her into them.  It was as if the woods had swallowed
her whole.

The police had found a print or two from a nondescript tennis shoe,
size twelve and a half wide.  They'd found Carolyn's mother's house
keys in the dirt along the path through the woods, but no sign of
Annie: There had never been the slightest trace of her outside those
woods--until now.

"It's been ten years; Drew."

"I know.  It's crazy.  The whole thing is crazy, but I swear they're
Annie's clothes,"

"My mother didn't know for sure?"

"We never got that far," he said.  "As soon as she found out I was here
about Annie, she just lost it."

Carolyn paused for a moment, knowing the next questions she had to ask,
not sure she was up to hearing the answers.  Drew sat in front of her,
holding her hands, just as he'd held onto her long into the lonely
nights after An-hie disappeared.

Back then, it had been as if her whole world had been turned upside
down in an instant.  She'd known that everything had changed.  Annie
wasn't coming back, not ever, and certainly not after ten long years.

"She's dead," Carolyn said, absolutely certain of it.

Drew was obviously at a loss.  "We don't know that.  There's nothing
about the clothes... to indicate that."

"Ten years," Carolyn argued.  "No one disappears for ten years and then
comes back, especially not a child.  She was probably dead the day she
disappeared."

He didn't say anything then.

"You know it as well as I do, Drew.  I've known it for years, so... it
shouldn't be this hard to handle what's happened now.  I mean, it's
nothing but a shirt and a pair of shorts, but I'm falling to pieces
here, even though I know she's dead and gone .... "

Carolyn stopped, to breathe and to think.  Her words were coming out
too fast, her voice was breaking up, the hysteria deep inside her was
pushing its way to the surface.

"I know she's dead," she said calmly, once she could.  "Maybe," Drew
conceded.  "But it would be something to know for sure, wouldn't it?
Wouldn't that help?  To know what happened to her?  Maybe even to catch
the.  bastard who did it?  To at least make sure he doesn't do it to
anyone else?"

"Yes."  Carolyn looked down at their intertwined hands and was grateful
that he was still hanging on to her.  She was feeling a little saner, a
little more capable, than before.  There were things that had to be
done.  " an dit looked as if she was the one who would have to handle
them.  Her mother was in no shape to do it herself.  " Where did you
find the clothes?

"Sara Parker"

"The little girl who was kidnapped?"  Carolyn rupted, recognizing the
name immediately, '

significance of finding and that of another little girl.  '

Drew nodded.  "She was wearing them when

And that changed everything, as' Carolyn saw it.  suggested there was
some pattern to this man's That Annie's kidnapping hadn't been some
dent, or the work of someone who was merely through the area.  That
obviously, since Sara Parker l been found across the state line and to
the south, the was still in the area.  That Sara Parker might know
thing that could lead them to Annie's kidnapper--and to the answers of
questions that haunted Carolyn and her mother to this day.

"It's so hard to believe," Carolyn said.

"I know."  He was rubbing his hands against hers now, massaging them a
little, trying to warm them, or to get the blood pumping down into them
again.

Carolyn still couldn't believe he was here after all this time.  She
still' Drew what do you have to do with Sara Parker's kidnapping case?
"

"I'm with the FBI now.  I do a lot of work in child abductions."

As did Carolyn, and she had to wonder if he did it for the same reasons
she did.  "Still trying to exorcise an old ghost?"

Suddenly he wouldn't meet her eyes.  "Maybe.  And you?"

Touch~, she thought.  Carolyn shook her head noncommittally.  "It's all
just so crazy."

"I know, sweetheart.  It's a damned crazy world out there."

"So what do we do now?"  She pulled her hands from his and, because she
so desperately needed to think straight, because that was difficult
enough even without be' rag this close to him, she stood up and walked
to the window.

"I have a picture of Sara wearing the red suit.  And if you think
they're P, nnie's clothes, I'll get on the phone and have one of the
agents bring the clothes here for you to look at more closely."

Carolyn felt a chill shoot through her.  To see them was bad enough.
But to touch them?  To hold them~in her hands?  - "Why would the guy
still hapg on to, her clothes after all this time?"

"I don't know, Carolyn.  I haven't had time to even try to figure it
out.  I've spent the last three days and nights looking for Sara
Parker. I saw her this morning, and I knew there was something about
her that was familiar.  As soon as I figured it out, I was on my way
here.  And things have been crazy ever since."

"I know," she said, feeling nauseous.  "If'he took her clothes..."

Drew seemed to understand what she was implying.  "It doesn't mean
anything," he told her.

She didn't argue with him.  There was-no point.  He worked with missing
children; he knew as well as she did the kind of things that happened
to them once they disappeared.

"Carolyn, either the guy lives in a very remote area or he has a
hideout of some sort where he takes the kids."

"Kids?"  she said.  "How many are we talking about?"

"I'm not sure.  But these guys don't stop at two kids.  Especially not
ten years apart.  If he's been in the area all this time, we're going
to find out about others."

Yes, she was certain he was right.  The statistics her own organization
had gathered estimated that the average child sex offender had more
than one hundred victims--an astonishing number, until you realized how
hard it was for a child to tell someone about being victimized, how
hard a charge it was for most adults to believe and how difficult it
was to prove.  Even if all those things worked together and someone got
convicted, the justice system didn't always manage to keep them in
jail, and that was a fact that made Carolyn furious.

She understood the system all too well.  She fought this battle every
day.  One of the most important parts of her job was acting as a
lobbyist for children's rights, particularly in the area of changing
the laws to protect children.

It didn't seem like that should be much of a fight--getting people to
protect children--but she could attest to the fact that it was.

Carolyn looked up at Drew then.  He worked for the FBI, finding missing
children.  She didn't want to think what that implied.  Old ghosts, old
guilt, things that they should have put behind them long ago--these
still lingered, and still carried within them the power to hurt.  Drew
was absolutely right.  It was one damned crazy world they lived in.

"We'll check the records as best we can tomorrow," he said.  "If the
guy was smart, he'd have realized he'd be harder to find if he crossed
all sorts of jurisdictional lines,

hoping that no one would ever put together the pattern.  " " But
kidnapping is a federal offense," she said.

"Of course, but unless there's some evidence that a child has actually
been kidnapped, the Bureau wouldn't get involved.  At least not right
away.  The reports would come in as a missing child, and the local
authorities would handle them initially," he explained.  "So, if this
guy's smart, if he's somewhere nearby and he's been going after kids
for the past ten years, he might have taken them from that state, plus
Illinois, Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri, maybe Tennessee and West Virginia.
Who knows."

"We can help you there," Carolyn told him, amazed that her own
organization might bg.  able to aid in finding her sister's abductor.
"Among other things, Hope House is a clearinghouse for information in
the region, including reports on child abductions."

"Hope House.  Of course.  I should have put it together when I called
you there.  I've only been in Chicago for a few months now, but I've
heard of the group.  The Bureau people speak highly of your
organization--when 'you're not embarrassing them, of course."

"Only with good cause," Carolyn stated, "We do our best."

"So do we."

"Of course, it isn't enough.  Sometimes I think no matter how much we
do, it won't be enough."

"As long as you don't stop trying," he said, then seemed to regret
it.

Instantly she was reminded of the fact that he'd simply given up on
them when She needed him most.  It wasn't working out, he'd told her
during those last moments they spent together.  By the time she knew
what he planned to do, it had been too late.  He'd already enlisted in
the army.  He'd presented her with a fait accompli, and hardly any time
to even say goodbye.

Of course, that hadn't kept her from literally begging him to stay. And
that hadn't kept him from leaving.

"Carolyn..."  he began.  The deep timbre of his voice, the way he drew
out her name, letting it linger on his lips--it all told her he'd
managed to read her thoughts much more easily than he should have, that
he was ready to get into things they had no business discussing
tonight.

"So," she said, jumping in before he could finish, "what do you think?
About Sara and Annie?"

There was an awkward moment of silence, while doubt thought about
challenging her but he let it pass.

"There are a lot of wooded areas in southern and Illinois, not far from
where we found Sara.  me's clothes were there, then Annie was lilt el3
... some point herself.  And for Sara to show up wearing me's old
clothes tells me Sara must have been in the same place.  '

Carolyn had to agree with him.  She heard him up behind her, but he
stopped before he was close to touch her again.

"We could find her," he said.  "We could find and the man who did this
to her.  This little girl,

lead us to both of them.  "

Drew turned Carolyn to face him.  There was compassion in the look he
gave her, and determination, as well.  " " I'm sorry.  I know this is
going to be difficult.  I know it's painful, but if there's a chance of
finding out about Annie and finding the man who took Sara, I'm going to
push as hard as I can to do it.  I can't do anything less.  "

Carolyn nodded, her gaze finally landing on the square of paper in his
left hand, her heart leaping at the sight of what must be the picture
of Sara Parker in those clothes.  Suddenly she felt as unsteady as she
had that moment on the porch when she reali:,ed this was all about
Annie.

"Show it to me," she said, before the feeling got any-worse and she
lost her nerve.

She closed her eyes to give him time.  When she opened them again, she
found herself staring at a Polaroid of a small, dark-eyed, dark-haired
girl who seemed to be trying as hard as she could to shrink away from
the camera.  "She looks scared to death."

Drew shrugged.  "She's a tough little kid.  She was doing all right
until I tried to take her picture.  I think the flash blinded her for a
moment and scared her all over again."

"It's hard to tell... about the clothes, at least from the picture.
They look the same, but I can't be sure."

He tucked the picture into the inside pocket of his jacket.  "I'll call
and have them brought here before they go to the lab in Chicago."

He turned to go into the kitchen.  Carolyn's entire body sagged like a
balloon leaking air.  There was a small upholstered chair to the right
of the window, and she managed to make it there just as every bit of
energy and self-control she possessed drained out of her.  Sitting down
weakly, leaning her head back against the chair, she thought about all
that this terrible day had brought her, all that she had left to face
tomorrow and the next day and the day after.

Her sister.  Her sweet, innocent little sister.  At one time, she would
have sworn it would be a relief simply to know for sure that she was
gone.  But now, Carolyn had her doubts.

Her mother?  What in the world was wrong with her mother?  And what
would that do to Billy?

Billy.  Drew's son.

Would she tell Drew?  Should she?  Would it only hurt him to know?
Would he insist on telling Billy?  Even fight her mother for custody?
And what would that do to Billy?

She had to do what was right.  But at the moment, she had no idea what
"right" was.

Chapter 7

Drew put down the phone in Grace McKay's kitchen.  He'd checked with
Bob Rossi, who was still.  in the little town where they'd found Sam
Parker.  The agents had gotten little useful information from the girl
about where she'd been held for the past week.  They would try to get
more once they had a psychiatrist to help them.

So far, Sara's description of the man--tall, white, mid-die-aged, with
a killer nicotine habit--would fit about a quarter of the population.
Interestingly, though the man had taken her clothes away from her and
given her the red shorts set to wear, she hadn't been molested, at
least not as far as the doctors who had examined her could tell.  No
doubt Carolyn would be relieved to hear that.  There wasn't a mark on
her except for some braising on her upper arms, no doubt where the man
had grabbed her, and some rope burns on her ankles where he'd tied her
feet.

So, if he wasn't some kind of pedophile, what was he?  Why did he like
to snatch little girls?

Despite all the talk of child abductions in this country, there were
actually relatively few children snatched by strangers and either
killed or simply never seen .  again.  Oh, it happened, but children
were much more likely--in fact more than a thousand times more
likely--to be kidnapped by a parent or relative.  That was relatively
common.  Stranger abductions of children were much more rare, coming at
the rate of a little less than one child a day for the entire
country.

Drew thought-of the numbers, thought of the odds that on that day 'ten
years ago, Annie had been the one.

He paced back and forth in the kitchen, hardly believing that he was
actually in this house again, in this town, involved once again with
this woman he'd once loved.  And he'd hurt her just by being here. He'd
always known he would do just that if he ever came back.  He and
Carolyn had fallen in love in the midst of her sister's disappearance,
and at its best their relationship had been bittersweet.  At its worst,
it had been fiddled with guilt that they were so happy with each other
while Annie was simply gone, that while they sneaked off for a few
stolen moments together, Annie had disappeared.

Drew had thought at first that the experience would bring them closer
together, but it hadn't worked out like that, Carolyn had seemed to
withdraw from him.

times, he, d thought she blamed him.  Other times, s!  ~

seemed to blame herself.  Eventually, she'd been racked with guilt
every time they were together.  Instead of ge,~ ~

ting better, it had only gotten worse.

It had hurt him, and it had angered him.  And he hadn,

been able to handle it.

Now that he'd seen Carolyn again, now that he d touched her, held her
in his arms, the pain was almost un~ bearable.  The enormity of what
he'd lost was staggering to illli 'him.

He'd been alone for a long time, so long that he'd forgotten what it
was like to want a woman so much.  He'd regretted leaving her, almost
from the first, but he hadn't known how to fix it.  Besides, by then
he'd already enlisted in the army, and you just couldn't tell them
you'd changed your mind and wanted to go home.

By the time he got out, having amaz'mgty managed to earn a college
degree while serving his time and working in army intelligence, one of
his former superiors had gone to work for the FBI, and he'd recruited
Drew to join him there.  Once he found the special task force that
~worked on child kidnapping cases, he'd been sure that he'd found what
he was meant to.  do with his life.

Looking back on it now, he experienced his first doubts about his
choice.

Carolyn had seen right through him~ He was still, in some irrational
way, trying to make up for what had happened to Annie.  Ten years
later, he was still haunted by it.  And so was she.

That was the hardest part.  Carolyn was in the same shape.  He knew
about her group--an incredibly loud, aggressive, well-funded barracuda
of an organization that expected, either by force of public opinion or
by sheer staying power and perseverance, to change the laws in this
country to protect the children.

Idealistic?  He was cynical enough to say that they were, but he was
still glad.  Somebody had to fight the idealistic fight.  While laws
simply weren't enough, they provided one hell of a start.

The group had money, computer links, and a lot less concern for
jurisdiction than any law-fmforcement group he knew.  They cared about
solving cases, not which agency actually era~ked them.

No doubt if he hadn't been on the West Coast for the past four years,
he'd have known much more about the group, and he'd most likely have
run into Carolyn at some point while working on a case.

He wondered what it would have been like--to see her again under any
circumstances but these.  He wondered if' Drew Carolyn called from the
living room.  Recognizing the urgency in her voice, he was there in an
instant.  He found her sitting on the sofa with the phone receiver
still in her hand and her face as pale as the white of the walls.

"What is it?"  He sat down beside her and turned sideways to face
her.

"My aunt Ellen called.  She heard about my mother, and she wanted to
know if there was anything she could do.  Then she asked what had upset
her so much, and I told her about the clothes."

"Isn't she the one in Texas?"

"She used to live there.  She's in St.  Louis now, but she was the one
we went to visit that year, when we bought Annie the red shorts set.
Aunt Ellen remembered, because my parents bought Annie's at the same
time she bought her daughter one.  They matched, and they had trouble
keeping them straight during the trip, so my mother and Aunt

Ellen put the girls' initials on the tags of their shirts.  " " Bingo,"
he said.

Pale, but composed, she nodded.  "We can figure it out now.  If those
are Annie's clothes, they'll have her initials on the tag."

He thought about taking her into his arms then, but he wasn't sure he
could stop with just that.  And now wasn't the time.  They had Annie to
find.  Carolyn's mother was in the hospital, and little Billy was
scared.

Now definitely wasn't the time.  Besides, they had a lot to settle
between them first.  He had to somehow explain to her why he'd left and
how much he'd re~gretted it, then hope she could forgive him for it'
before they could start again.

He desperately needed to believe that they could start /again.

Drew decided to stay where he was.

"One thing at a time, "he told her.  "We'll get the clothes, look for
the initials, and if they're Annie's, we'll find the man who took
her."

He glanced at his watch, because he couldn't just sit there and stare
at the heartbroken look on her face any longer.  It was nearly eleven. 
He was ~xhaUsted, but he didn't want to leave.

"Are you and Billy going to be all right here?"  he asked,

looking for a reason to stay.

"Of course."

"Did this town ever get a decent motel?  Or am I going to be staying at
that dump on the south side of town?"

"There's a bed-and-breakfast downtown.  It's the old Williams place, on
Main."

He gave a look of disgust.  "Frilly sheets, little scented things in
the drawers to make my clothes smell like lilacs or something?  Tea and
those little cakes in the afternoon?"

"I wouldn't know.  I've never stayed there.  But you're welcome to stay
here, if you want.  I stay in my old bedroom upstairs, next to Billy's,
and there's a guest room downstairs that's always made up."

He wondered if she realized he'd been fishing for an invitation, even
though he couldn't be clear on the reason why.  Part of him was a
LITTLE concerned~ even if it was totally irrational.  The man who'd
taken Annie was still out there somewhere.  He had to know by now that
they'd found Sara Parker, and surely he remembered what she'd been
wearing when she escaped.  Drew still had to work under the assumption
that the guy had known Annie somehow when he snatched her.

It was crazy to think that the guy might comeback here for some reason,
but Drew was more than a little irrational about this case.

And he didn't want to leave Carolyn, not yet.  He'd just found her
again.  They'd forged some fragile bond in the brief hours they'd been
together today, and he didn't want to risk losing that.

She was overwhelmed today.  Scared, tired, worn-out, and all those
things must have made it easier for her to accept him, even to lean on
him a little.  He was willing to bet that would all have' changed by
tomorrow.  A little, rest, a chance to think things through, and he
would guess she'd try as hard as she could to put a little distance
between them.

He didn't want to give her the chance.

"You don't mind if I stay?"  he asked, wondering if she saw right
through him.

He thought she must.  Either that, or she had turbing thoughts of her
own, because she finally had He color in her cheeks.

"Not at all.  In fact, I was just thinking--if something happened to my
mother in the middle of the night, and I needed to get to the hospital,
I'd hate to have to get Billy out of bed and take him with me.  He's
upset enough as it

"Okay," he said, telling himself that this was what wanted, after all.
And he'd already resigned himself spending the whole night through
dreaming of her, no matter where he slept.  "Let me just get my bag out
of the car."

He turned and started searching his pockets rette--his fifth of the
day.  He had it lit and by the time he closed the front door behi habit
had him checking the street up and down before he stepped off the
porch.

Funny, he'd been a million miles away from this place for what seemed
like forever, yet he could still come back and have his whole, past
seem so close he could reach out and touch it.  He could close his eyes
and look around and feel as if he'd never left.

He wondered what in the world would have happened if he'd never left.

Would he and-Carolyn be married by now?  Have children by now?  Would
they have found a way to forget about Annie and be happy?

He was angry at himself for even wondering.  After all, it did no good.
Regrets were the most useless things in the world.  They changed
nothing.

Drew grabbed his bag out of the trunk, and a fresh suit hanging from a
hook in the back of the car.  And all the while, regrets bombarded him
with a relentlessness that set him on edge.

He didn't have any business spending the night in this house, with
Carolyn upstairs: But he was going to do it anyway.

And maybe tomorrow they'd have some answers.  Maybe she'd listen while
he tried to explain, and maybe, just maybe, she'd understand something
that he'd never truly understood himself.

How in the world he'd ever managed to leave her--and to stay away for
so long.

Drew was pulling out his shaving kit and storing it in the bathroom
when he heard Carolyn Come back downs airs Moving back to the guest
room, he~ took off the jacket to his suit and hung it in the closet,
then removed his tie and laid it across the bureau.

She shouldn't have come back downstairs.  "

He stood absolutely still and listened as she moved through the house,
turning off lights and flicking the locks

into place.  Finally, she stood at the doorway to the bedroom.

This day, ano all be ones that l~ad come before it, had started to take
their toll on him.  Once he started on a case, once a child went
missing and there seemed a valid reason to hope the child was still
alive, he barely slept, seldom ate.  He lived and breathed the case,
his world narrowing down to nothing but the investigation and the
reward at the end.  He'd been on Sara's case for seventy-two hours
before they found her, and he'd come straight here after that.

He was bone-deep tired, frustrated that they had so little information
on Sara Parker's and frightened that he was now working on Annie
McKay's deeade-old disappearance.

He should be asleep before he hit the bed, but he doubted he would be.
One thing about being too tired--he couldn't summon up the
self-discipline it took to keep his mind off Carolyn, especially when
they were alone late night in a room that happened to contain a bed.

Though he knew better, he once again let himself take long, hard look
at her.  She had on sleek fitted trousers that Showed off her longs
legs and her trim hips.  Her was incredibly soft--he knew that from
earlier--and it was a pale cream color that did wonders her fair skin
and her dark eyes.  She wore her pulled back from her face, and she had
dainty little hoops in her ears.  Overall, the picture was one of
simple elegance, and right now she was making his blood boil.  "I just
wanted to see if you needed anything went upstairs."

He smiled, despite the tightening in his chest that it difficult to
breathe.  Ten years' worth of need, of liness and memories and dreams,
welled up inside him.

He needed her.  Desperately.

Drew stood in front of Carolyn, his need warring with his sense of
right and wrong.  She was exhausted, too.  Her mother was in the
hospital, her little brother was upstairs asleep, and they were in her
parents' house.  It wasn't the time or the place for the kind of
discussion they needed to have.  Of course, his.  mind wasn't on
talking right now, anyway, which was no Surprise.

It had been 'years since he'd been this close to her, and right now it
felt as if he might not get such an opportunity again.  Few knew better
than he and Carolyn 'that life had a way of throwing the unexplainable
at you, the unmanageable unchangeable.  How everything could shift in
an instant, and reality as you knew it could simply disappear.

He might not get another chance.  At least he could touch her one more
time.

Drew' crossed the floor in a second and took her by the arms.  "I need
to kiss you, Carolyn.  I need a whole hell of a lot more' than that,
but I think I could get by on a kiss.  And once I do that, I think
you'd better turn around, go upstairs and forget about coming back down
tonight,"

She gave a little sound of surprise.  He watched as the pulse point in
her neck began to speed up, and thought about covering it with his
mouth.  But he'd set his terms.  One kiss.  Surely he was strong enough
to stop at that.

When she didn't protest, he settled her close against him, then closer
still, until she was flush against him from head to toe.  Her arms came
around him, urging him nearer.  Her eyes locked on his.

He thought about telling her how much he'd missed her, how empty the
years had been, how empty his bed had been.  But it didn't seem like
the kind of talk a man had with a. woman when he was allowing himself
nothing more--at the moment--than a single kiss goodnight.

And it was absolutely unbelievable how much he wanted this kiss.

He backed off a fraction of an inch, just for a second, when his
self-control threatened to desert him altogether.

"I've dreamed of you," he told her, unable to help himself.  "I've
spent night after night alone in hotels, so exhausted I couldn't even
tell you which state I was in, not really caring, knowing I needed to
get up in a few hours, and still not able to forget your face or the
way you felt in my arms."

He tucked her head against his heart and kissed her hair while he
thought about saying more.

"I should have never left you.  I'll regret it until the day

I die.  You've got to believe that, Carolyn.  "

When she didn't answer, his hand went to the side of her face to turn
it up toward him, and he detected a telltale.  trail of moisture on her
cheek.

He'd made her cry.  Again.

This time, he kissed the tears away, one by one.  "Till day I die," he
said, his lips against her soft, wet cheeks' "Do you believe me?"

He decided to go for broke.  "Gonna give me a chance to make it up to
you?"

"Yes, if you want it."

"Sweetheart, I definitely want it."

His body turning into a throbbing mass of need, his arms locked around
her, his senses overwhelmed b] and smell and taste of her, he fought
for control.  ~

Suddenly, a real kiss seemed much too dangerous to undertake.

He'd overstepped the emotional boundaries he'd set for them, and now
that he'd done that, there was no telling what else might happen.

Suddenly, he felt as if he had about as much a teenager, felt as eager
as one, too.  God knew he hadn't wanted a woman like this since he'd
been nineteen years old and aching for Carolyn.

"You need to go upstairs, Carolyn," he said, with the last shreds of
his self-control.  "Hurry."

And she did.

Chapter 8

She still hadn't gotten her kiss.

It was noon.  Her mother had been awake, though groggy, when they went
to see her this morning, and that had frightened Billy.  Carolyn had
calmed him down as best she could, then talked him into going to school
for the afternoon-with the lure of the annual class Halloween party
that afternoon as the major inducement--because she didn't want him to
be frightened any more than he already was by the sight of her mother
in this hospital.

She'd spoken with her mother's doctor, who remained optimistic that
Grace McKay's condition had to do with stress, rather than a physical
problem with her heart.  She'd welcomed her aunt Ellen, who'd arrived
unexpectedly around midday, because she was worried about both Grace
and Carolyn herself.  She'd run into some old friends from high school
and friends of her mother's--putting them off as best she could when
they asked why she was in town, why Drew Delaney was in town, and
exactly what his car had been doing outside her mother's house all
night long.

She'd barely seen Drew.  He was already showered and dressed when she'd
awoken.  And he'd been on the phone all morning, no doubt arranging for
someone to bring those clothes here for her to identify.  Carolyn put
Drew in touch with Hope House's computer expert, and the two of them
had started a search through the data banks for any other cases that
might be linked to Annie's.  She'd left Drew at the house, without a
word passing between them about what had happened last night before
they went to their separate beds2

With her life in such total chaos, Carolyn couldn't understand where
she found the time to think of anything as trivial as a kiss she'd
never received.  But she did.  She sat in the waiting area across from
her mother's hospital room, trying to keep her head down or her face
turned away so that she wouldn't he recognized by anyone She knew and
be asked the inevitable questions that would follow.  And she thought
of Drew and The kiss he'd promised her.

She thought about the child they'd shared in the small est of ways--and
in none of the ways that really mattered.

Should she tell him?  Would it only hurt him more to know?  Would he,
in turn, whether from anger or haste or an honest desire to be a father
to his son, end 'up hurting

Billy in some way?  It would have to hurt Billy to discover he'd been
lied to all these years, that the parents he'd known and loved from the
time he was a baby hadn't been his real parents.  And, selfishly,
Carolyn wondered if Billy would come to hate her.

Carolyn couldn't even plead ignorance.  She'd made a conscious decision
to give up her son.  But Drew never had.  "Carolyn?"

Startled, she looked up to see that her aunt had returned.

"I'm sorry, dear.  I didn't mean to frighten you."

Carolyn shook her head.  "I was just thinking,"

"I got us some decent coffee from that little cafe around the corner,
and some sandwiches."  She handed Carolyn a cup, then set her own down
on the table and opened up a brown bag she'd tucked into her purse.
"Any word?"

"No, not yet," Carolyn said, sipping the coffee.  She took the sandwich
her aunt offered, placed it on her lap.  She couldn't even think about
food right now.  "They're still running tests."

"I'm sure she's going to be fine, dear.  Your mother's a very strong
woman.  Think of how much she's endured in her lifetime,"

"I know, Aunt Ellen.  It's just that it hasn't been that long since
Daddy died, and to have this thing with Annie coming so close on top of
it... I have to wonder how much she can take.  And I hate to see what'
this is doing to Billy.  He's"

She broke off when Drew came strolling into the waiting area.  His gaze
locked on to hers, and for a moment her thoughts ran back in time, to
the night before, when she'd felt how much he wanted her, felt the
emotions warring inside him.  She'd thought that he might actually tell
her he loved her still, she'd imagined what it would he like to hear
that again, maybe even to let herself believe it.

It would be something to hold on to in the days ahead, when everything
was sure to turn crazy.  She'd held on to Drew's love before, and it
had gotten her through a 10t.

"Hello," she heard Drew say, as he held out his hand to the woman
beside her.

"I'm Carolyn's/aunt, Ellen Monroe."

The two were shaking hands before Carolyn even realized how rude she
was being.  "I'm sorry," she said.  "II guess I'm a little distracted
today.  Aunt Ellen, this is Drew Delaney."

"I'm the one who's sorry," her aunt said.  "I know I should have
remembered your name, because your face looks so familiar, but I just
can't place it."

Drew didn't say anything, though his curiosity was clearly aroused.

It was all Carolyn could do to stand there and remain silent while she
watched and waited for ten years' worth of lies to dissolve in front of
her eyes.

"I don't believe we've met," Drew said.  "Unless you used to live
here?"

"No, I never did.  My sister moved here when her late husband got a job
here, just before Carolyn was born," Ellen said, clearly as puzzled as
Drew.  "You used to live here?"

"Ten years ago," he said.

Carolyn fought to keep the terror she was feeling from showing on her
face.

She should have told trim last night, when she had the chance.  Either
then, or ten years ago, when she gave birth to his child.

"Oh."  The little sound her aunt made spoke volumes to Carolyn, who
shot her a pleading look.

"Drew's with the FBI" she managed to say in a somewhat steady voice.
"He's the one who picked up on the link between the other little
girl's.  kidnapping and An rile's.  He recognized the clothes."

"Oh," her aunt said again.

"Are they here yet?"  Carolyn, desperate to change the subject, said to
D~ew.

"What?"  he asked, obviously aware that there were hhings going on in
this room that he didn't understand.  "The clothes?  Did they come
yet?"

"Yes."  He gave her the strangest look, then held up his briefcase.
"That's why I'm here."

That was all the excuse Carolyn needed.  She no longer had to hide the
fear that threatened to overwhelm her.  "I

want to get this over with as soon as possible.  "

"Are you sure?"  He put his hand on her arm, perhaps bemuse he realized
she could fall over at any moment.  Her legs felt like rubber and she
had to get him away from her aunt before Ellen said any more.

"I'm sure.  Is there somewhere we can g~, besides here?"

"Of course," he offered.

"Aunt Ellen, you'll stay here, in case there's any news about Mom?"

"Yes, dear," she said, but her eyes told Carolyn something quite
different;.

He's the one, isn't he?

Carolyn nodded.  Then she turned and headed for the door, pausing only
when Drew didn't immediately follow her.  He stood in the middle of the
room, looking from Carolyn to' her aunt, then back again.  Finally, he
turned to Ellen and once again held out his hand.  "It's been a
pleasure meeting you," he said

When she didn't add anything else, he walked across the room to Carolyn
and put his hand at the small of her back, and they started walking
down the hallway.

Carolyn 'was still worried that they were going to run into someone
else who'd recognize him, someone who knew Billy and would put two and
two together;

"I took a room at that bed-and-breakfast you mentioned," Drew said.
"It's only three blocks from here.  We could talk there, ~you like?"

"You can stay at the house again, tonight.  We have the room," Carolyn
said.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Carolyn thought of the sexual tension that had flared between them last
evening.  Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for Drew to be sleeping so
close by.  "All right.  We can go to your room at the inn."

-" How's your mother?"

"They'~ still doing tests."

The elevator doors closed, giving them a moment of privacy.  Drew
stepped closer, pulling her against his side, reassuring her with his
touch.  "Did your mother remember talking to me yesterday?"

"I think so.  She wouldn't talk about it.  Or... actually, she wouldn't
let me talk about Annie.  But I think she re, members."

"Want to tell me what was going on back there with your aunt?"

Carolyn shivered, but not from the cold.  "I will," she said,
committing herself to getting the truth out.  "Just... not now.  Not
here.  All right?"

The elevator doors opened, revealing a crowd that parted to let them
make their way out.  Thankfully, amazingly, she didn't recognize
anyone.

"This way," Drew said, leading her-out the side entrance and into the
sunshine.

They walked briskly through the clear but cool day, toward two of the
grimmest tasks Carolyn had ever faced.  Wordlessly they made their way
inside the stately old house of white stone, up the winding staircase
and into Drew's quarters.

She was studying the contents of the room--a huge antique four-poster
bed, a comfortable-looking sofa done in a bright floral print, fresh
flowers on the bureau, bright sunshine streaming in through the long,
flowing lace curtains--when she heard the lock click shut and turned to
face Drew.

"I didn't think you'd want to be disturbed," he said as be stood by the
door.

She shook her head.  "I just... I need to get this over with ."

"Sit down," he said, motioning toward the couch.

She sat with her hands clenched in her lap and her eyes closed.
"First," she said, "would you kiss me?  Just once?  '

"Carolyn, you don't"

"Please.  Just once."

It was a ridiculous request, considering why they'd come here and what
she had to do.  And she was definitely stalling, even though she
claimed to want this over with as quickly as possible.  But she needed
him right now.  She needed to be in his arms, to feel close to him, one
more time, before it all dissolved away.

"Just once," she repeated, afraid to even open her eyes.  Carolyn felt
the couch give with his weight beside.  her, felt him haul her into his
arms and, when that wasn't enough--when they still weren't close
enough--lift her up and sit her on his lap.  Drew leaned back into the
corner of the sofa, his arms pulling her head down to the hollow
between his neck and his shoulders.  He squeezed her tight, his heat
soaking into the chill that seemed to go all the way down to ~her
bones.  His breath was warm against her cheek, and his hands tenderly
stroked through her long hair.

She waited for the touch of his lips against hers, but it didn't come.
Instead, they settled high on her cheek, next to her ear.

"Sweetheart," he whispered against her skin, "you don't have to look at
anything.  Do you understand that?  I

already looked myself.  "

"You did?"

He nodded.  "I would have told you at the hospital, but I didn't want
to do it with a bunch of people around."

"And they're Annie's clothes, aren't they?"

Carolyn hadn't even realized her tears were falling again.  She hadn't
been sure she had any left to cry, but they just poured out of her now,
and Drew wiped them away.

"I found the initials," he said.  "They're faded, but they're there."

He held her tighter then.  For a moment, she would have sworn he was
the only thing holding her together.

He'd found Annie's clothes.  He'd found a link between her and another
little girl, who'd gotten away,.

Why couldn't Annie have gotten away?

"I still miss her," Carolynsaid.  "When I come home, I still go and sit
in her room at night and imagine that she's going to come running
through that door, still thirteen years old."

Drew just held on to her.  It was the most amazing feel-ingin the
world.  She felt safe and secure and--did she dare think it?  --loved.
And even that~ even after all this time, seemed traitorous to her lost
little sister.

"She Was my best friend," Carolyn said.  "And she never should have
disappeared.  It shouldn't have happened to her.  It should have been
me."

"No," Drew said.  "I'm not going to let you do this to yourself."

"I sent her there," Carolyn said.  "I was supposed to be the one to go
back to the, house, because my mother asked me to go, but I sent Annie
instead.  Don't you see?  It should have been me.  I should have"

And then she couldn't talk through her tears any longer.  She couldn't
remember the last time the guilt had come on strong enough that it
seemed capable of driving a hole through her heart this way.

She didn't remember the last time anyone had been willing to listen to
her talk this way about the little sister she'd lost.  She couldn't
remember when she'd last felt comfortable enough with someone to show
what Annie's disappearance had done to her, what it still did to her
today.

Drew understood.  He'd been there.  He'd lived throt~gh it with her,
and it was different, sharing these old feelings with him, from the way
it had been to tell them to someone who hadn't ever known Annie or
loved her.

She cried until she felt drained of all emotion and all energy.  Cried
until that blessed feeling of being washed clean inside came over
her.

And he held her through it all.  He didn't try to stop her or' rush
her.  He simply accepted what she was feeling, and let her get it
out.

"I'm here," he said, when the sobbing subsided.

He kissed her hair, kissed her wet cheeks, and Carolyn found herself
wanting more than anything to press her lips against his and lose
herself in the magic of his touch.

It was still magical.  It was still there between them, this
connection, this attraction.  It was still there--and likely still~ as
doomed as ever.

She watched as the world seemed to slow down around them, as she could
see only him, feel only the warmth of his touch and, for an instant,
think only of him.

There hadn't been anyone else, not in all these years, who managed to
touch her heart the way he had.  From time to time she'd tried, in
desperation, to feel just a little of what she'd felt for him with
someone else, but it had never happened.  She wondered now if i~ever
would, wondered why it should be this way.  Why she was destined to
feel like this only with Drew, when she didn't see how they could ever
make things work between them.

~Still, in this moment when there was nothing in the world but the two
of them" she wanted him.  She wanted him so much, and she was tempted
to take what he was offering her, with no word to him about what she'd
done, and no thought to the future.

After all, she hadn't seen him in ten agonizingly long years.  Surely
it wouldn't be so bad to take one night, out of ten years of lonely
nights, to be with him.

He would likely hate her before morning, anyway, because she had to
tell him.  She'd been living on borrowed time ever since he'd come
back. She didn'tthink she would get another chance to tell him herself
before someone else put the pieces together and let the truth slip out.
And she knew that the news had to come from her.  In the back of her
mind, she thought that might count for something--that she'd chosen to
tell him rather than let him find out from someone else.

Carolyn watched, fascinated, as his face came down to hers.  His lips
closed over hers, and she felt as if she'd opened up her soul to him.
As if she could simply let go of the years of loneliness and longing
now, because he was finally her with her.

"I don't know how I ever stayed away," he took the time to say, before
kissing her again.

"I wish you hadn't," she said, perilously close to tears again.

She wanted to hang on to him, wanted to hold back the hands of time and
give the two of them just a few moments together.

She hadn't realized how much she missed him, how much she needed him,
how terribly lonely she'd been without him.

The kiss was devastating, turning her bones to mush, her resolve to
sheer indecision.  Her body, which might as well have been in some sort
of deep freeze for the past ten years, had come roaring back to life,
the feeling overloading her ability to think and reason.

She was vaguely aware that his hands had come up to her face again,
that his lips had left hers again, and then she felt the tears.  He'd
found them before she realized they were there, and now he followed the
tracks of her tears with the side of his thumb.

"It won't always be like this," he said, and she thought he meant it as
a promise to her, but, of course, he didn't know everything yet.
Otherwise, he wouldn't make promises like that.  'll0

Carolyn closed her eyes and kissed him again, urgently this time,
wishing she could sink back into the wonderful oblivion of his tough
and forget everything else.

He kissed her back, just once, so hard and fast that the blood went
pounding through her heart.  And then he pulled back an dit was all
over.

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to figure out exactly what she was
sorriest about.  The list seemed endless.  "Why?"

"Because... because I'm so afraid that I'll never get to be with you
again like this, that I'll never feel like this again.  And I don't see
how I can get through the rest of my life without any of that."

"Why won't you ever be with me again like this?"  Hastily she dried the
rest of her tears' and put a little distance between them.  Time for
the hard part.  Time for her confession.  God help her, it was time to
own up to the mistakes she'd made all those years ago.

"Oh, Drew..."  She barely managed to get the words out.  "I'm so
afraid."

"Why?  Because of Annie?  Because of something that happened ten years
ago, when we were just kids?  You're going to let that ruin everything
between us, all over again?"

"Not just that."

"Then what?"

She felt sick to her stomach then.  There it was, the perfect opening.
And she didn't see how she could take it.  Her courage had totally
deserted her.

"Ok, l~t's go down the list," he said.  "Annie's disappearance.  " Why
does that still have to be between us?  How can you let it?  Because it
wonrt bring her back.  And you can't believe that she'd want her
disappearance to keep us apart.  "

"Itshould have been me," she said, knowing.  she'd said it.  before
knowing how truly irrational her feelings about this were.  "My mother
sent me back to the house, and I'm the one who sent Annie instead."

"So do you blame your mother, too?  Or the town, for having a picnic
that day?  Or whoever turned that day in August into a town holiday and
scheduled a picnic celebration?"  Drew asked.  "You don't blame them,
do you?"

"No."

"Do you blame me?  I'm the one who wanted to be with you.  I'm the one
your parents didn't want you to see."

"No; I never blamed you."

"Carolyn, you couldn't stand to have me touch you after she left.  You
didn, t even want to be in the same room with me, Did you think I
couldn't see that?  Or that I didn't understand why?"

Drew knew he had to be careful.  He had to watch that the memories that
had been dragged up, and the emotions that went along with them, didn,t
choke him.

They hadn't done anything so terribly wrong, anything that hundreds of
thousands of kids didn't do every day.  There'd been this town picnic.
He'd missed Carolyn.  Her parents hadn't wantS her to see him, because
they.  didn,t approve of him.  He'd been a little too rough, and his
family had been too poor and his father too big a drinker, for him to
he associating with their daughter.  But that hadn't stopped them from
sneaking off to see each other.  After all, they'd been in love.

He'd seen her at the picnic, but stayed out of sight because he didn't
want her parents to see him.  When she left to walk the three blocks
from the park to her house to get the fresh-baked bread her mother had
left at home, Drew had followed.  He'd caught up with her as she left
the park, and suggested that they find someplace where they could he
alone for a while.

Carolyn had agreed.  And Annie had shown up just then, She'd been a
beautiful child, just starting to grow a little taller, still tom
boyishly thin, her long, pale blond hair shining in the sunlight. She'd
liked Drew, even though she knew her parents didn't.  She'd promised
not to tell her parents that she'd seen Carolyn and Drew together.  And
Annie had been the one who ended up going back to the house to' get the
bread for her mother.

Carolyn had asked Annie to do that, after Drew pressured her into
sneaking away from the picnic with him.

They'd been necking behind a huge old tree at the edge of the park
while that man snatched Annie.

Drew would never forget the way her mother had questioned Carolyn, the
way Carolyn had.  broken down and sobbed when it became clear that her
sister was nowhere to be found.

Day after agonizing day had gone by, with no word, no clue.  The days
had turned into weeks, the hopes fading away with each day that passed.
Carolyn hadn't been able to look at him.  She hadn't let him touch her
for the longest time.  She'd simply withdrawn from him and from cry
thing else.

He knew now that some people dealt with grief that way; that otherwise
stable marriages dissolved under the stress of the disappearance of a
child.  They'd just been two teenagers in love.  Carolyn had been
seventeen, Draw nearly nineteen.  It was no wonder that Annie's
disappearance had torn them apart.

Of course, he could have stayed.  He could have waited it out.
Eventually they might have overcome the grief and guilt.  But he hadn't
stuck around to see that happen.  He'd gotten angry and impatient and
scared, because he hadn't been able to find a way to make things better
for Carolyn, no matter how hard he tried.

And if he'd failed her then, when she needed him more than she ever
had, he was sure to fail her again.  At least that was what he'd
thought back then.

He'd gotten angry one night.  Drew had always hated Hope, Illinois, and
without Carolyn, there had been nothing there for him.  He'd enlisted
in the army a few months after Annie disappeared.

He'd come to Carolyn's house one night and boldly knocked on the front
door, enraging her mother in the process, and calmly told Carolyn that
he was leaving.  He could have asked her to write, to call, to wait for
him.  But he hadn't.

He'd been tired of shouldering the blame for something that wasn't his
fault, tired of trying to make it better for Carolyn and failing
miserably.

He'd just walked away and left her.

She'd cried.  She'd asked him not to leave her.  She'd said she needed
him, but he'd thought that more than anything she needed to forget
about him' and all the guilt she'd come to associate with their
relationship.  But he hadn't told her that.  He'd said that he couldn't
help her any more than he already had and he couldn't take the guilt
any longer.

He'd never come back.  He'd been tempted, but he'd stayed away--another
mistake to add to his list.  He recognized them so clearly now.  He
should never have left.  And even then, even if he'd had to go, he
should never have stayed away from her, because he had this sneaking
suspicion that he was still in love with her.

it sounded crazy, after all these years, when he'd spent not even
twenty-four hours with her in the past ten years, but that was how he
felt.

Still, there was so much between them.  Annie's disappearance still
being the biggest obstacle, his own desertion weighing in as a strong
second.

Yet he couldn't deny how strong his feelings were for her.  He was
shaking, caught up in the past, still angry about it, still resentful
about what had happened.  But he hoped that they could overcome all
that now, because he desperately wanted another chance with her.  The
knowledge simply burst forth from somewhere deep inside him,

leaving him a little dazed but feeling more alive than he had in
years.

He'd spent too much time needing Carolyn and denying that need or
trying to simply kill it off, too much time telling himself that it was
too late for them and that he couldn't change what' he done any more
than he could bring Annie McKay back.

And then, amazing as it was, Annie had been the one to bring him
back.

Drew wasn't a religious man, but he had the oddest feeling that he
needed to thank her for that, that she was somehow watching over them
all and had brought him home again.  Crazy as it sounded, he offered
her his silent thanks for drawing him back to this little town.

"Carolyn?"  She was still in his arms, and he wanted never to let go of
her.  He kissed her hair, dried her tears, and wondered what he could
do to make her smile for him now.

"I didn't blame you," she said shakily.  "I blamed my-serf.  Not
you."

"Sweetheart, you didn't want to be with me after Annie disappeahxl. You
didn't want me touching you, couldn't stand me kissing you."

"Because I felt too guilty.  Before, ~I wanted you so much that nothing
else mattered.  I would have done anything to be with you that day, and
if I hadn't felt that way, if I'd been thinking about anything or
anyone more than I'd been thinking about be' rag with you, this might
never have happened.  Annie might still be here."

"No," ~he told her.  "If there hadn't been some sick man out there who
liked little girls, Annie would still be here.  If he hadn't decided to
come to Hope on that day ten years ago, Annie would still be here.  If
Annie hadn't caught eye somehow, she would still be here.  Orif someone
me had been doing their job a little better, and caught the son of a
bitch long before he ever turned to Annie, she'd still be here.  That's
why stuff like this happens.  Not because two teenagers wanted to spend
ten minutes alone together.

"You know it's true," he told her.  "You work with missing kids.  You
know there are always a million little things that any number of people
could have done differently to change everything--to make the
difference in any one child's life.  It only takes a split second for
everything to change.  And once it does, nothing can turn things back
to the way they used to be."

"I do know that," she finally admitted.  "In my head, yes, I know it.
But my heart--I can't convince myself of that in my heart.  She was my
sister.  She looked up to me.  She thought I was perfect, and that I
had all the answers, but I didn't."

He looked down into her tearstained face, the despair there enough to
break his heart all over again, if it hadn't been broken so irrevocably
the day he'd left her ten years ago.  "None of us is perfect, Carolyn:
Thankfully, none of us is held to that high a standard."

"I know it's irrational, Drew.  Believe me, I know that..  But it
doesn't change how I feel."

"Look at me, Carolyn."  He pulled hack just enough that she could look
him in the eye.  "It's not your fault.  And you know that.  It was that
man who took her--it was his fault, and I'm going to find him.  I'm
going to find out what he did to Annie, and then I'm going to be damned
lucky if I don't kill the guy myself."

She paled at that, and he took a moment to try to calm down.  "I've
spent ten years of my life trying to make up for this," he said, when
he could speak more calmly.  "I feel sick inside every time I hear
about another child who's missing.  I feel it in my gut, every minute
we're looking, every minute some creep gets a little farther away from
us with some little kid.  I do that day in and day out, week after
week, year after year, because Fm still trying to make up for what
happened to Annie."

He didn't like admitting that to her.  He didn't like admitting it to
himself.  It was as irrational as the way she blamed herself, but it
was all he knew.  Punishment or penance, he couldn't be sure which.  He
only knew that the job satisfied some deep-seated need in him, in a way
nothing else did2 In much the same way lpeing with her, holding her in
his arms again, satisfied him on the most basic level.

He wouldn't think about all that he'd lost when he gave her up so long
ago.  He wouldn't rage at the injustice that both of them were still
trying to somehow make up for.

He'd thought her guilt was tied up with him and with their
relationship, that she was punishing herself and him by denying them
any chance at happiness.  That the guilt had twisted things so badly in
her mind that she didn't think they deserved to be happy because Annie
was gone.

And he'd thought that by leaving her, he could somehow take away the
guilt, as well.

But now he knew.  He'd left for nothing.  He hadn't spared her anything
at all.  If anything, he'd probably made things worse by walking out on
her.

How would he ever explain that to her?  How would he make her
understand something he couldn't understand himself?  He didn't know,
but he'd find a way.  He'd make a second chance for them.

"Carolyn," he began, "I told you last night that I never should have
left you, that I'll regret it till the day I die.  Do you believe
that?"

"Yes," she said, hesitant now.

"Do you think you can ever forgive me for that?"

"Oh, Drew..."  She looked scared now, and he wondered if he was pushing
too hard, too fast.

"I want us to have another chance.  Last night, you said you could give
that to me."

"Speechless?  I love leaving my women speechless."  She almost smiled
then, and he knew how much she needed to.  But it' did bring up a
terrible thought.  There weren't any other women in his life.  There
hadn't been for a long time.  He was too busy, and honestly not that
interested.  But he'd never even asked if there was a man in her life.
Just because she still used her maiden name and there was no ring on
her finger, that didn't mean she was free.

"There isn't anyone else, is there?"  he asked, when she still looked
worded.

"No, it's not that."

"Then what?  I know my timing's lousy, but I can't help it.  I can't
wait, when I don't know how long it's going to take before things get
back to normal."

She hesitated, composed now, but still obviously frightened.  Of him?
Surely not.  Of being involved with anyone?  He could understand her
being apprehensive, but that wasn't what he was seeing here.  It was
out-and-out fear.  God knew he'd seen that emotion often enough to
recognize it.

Why would she be so frightened?

He wanted to make her smile again, wanted to wrap his arms around her
and keep her safe from anything and everything in this world that had
the power to hurt her.  He wanted her in his bed and in his Yffe,
forever.  He would not leave Hope again without her.

Drew waited a minute as the realizations clicked into place inside him.
It felt .  right.  It felt as if everything were right with his
world--a crazy sentiment, in the midst of all this insanity.  But that
was how it felt.  He was with Carolyn again, and he wasn't ever going
to let her go.

This was what he'd been waiting for, what he'd been missing his 'whole
life.  This would make him complete and whole and happy.  Carolyn.
Somehow, it had always been Carolyn.  He was so relieved to finally
admit it to himself.

Now to convince her of that.  He chose his words carefully, not wanting
to frighten her, and careful not to belittle the things standing in
their way.  He knew there were many obstacles, but they could overcome
all of them.  Nothing would stop him from making it happen.

"It won't always be like this," he told her.  "I'm going to find out
what happened to Annie, and we're going to let go of all the guilt and
the anger.  It's time, Carolyn.  We don't need to be beating ourselves
up over this anymore.

And we can't let it keep i~s apart any longer.  "

"It's not that simple," she said.

"It is.  It's in the past, and no matter what we do, we can't change
it.  And you can't tell me that you're willing to give up on us again
because of what happened to Annie."

Carolyn sighed wearily.  The past, she thought.  Unchangeable as
something set in stone, and all-powerful.  He understood that, and he
was asking her not to let it stand in their way.  But how would he feel
when he was the one who had to do the forgetting and the forgiving?
When he had to understand that some decisions, once made, could not be
undone?  Woul~d he be able to put the past behind them?

She was almost certain the man was about to tell her he was still in
love with her, and she couldn't as she longed to hear the words from
him couldn't let him say them now.  Not when he still didn't know

She knew.  She felt the love in him, knew she was this close to getting
him back, only to lose him all over again.  But she couldn't think of
that now.  Not now.  There was no time, and it would only make this
more difficult.

"Drew, it's not just Annie," she said, turning her back to him and
searching for strength.  "God knows I still feel guilty about what
happened to her, but she's not the only thing standing between us right
now."

Chapter 9

Drew had a sixth sense about bad news.  He would have called it a
premonition, if he believed in such things.  But then, the label wasn't
that important; it was the feeling that mattered.  He knew now that
something very bad was about to happen.

He took hold of Carolyn's shoulder, turned her around to face him
again, and he saw it right away.

Guilt.  He could read it as clearly on some people's faces as he could
a sign on the side of the road.  The woman looked guilty as hell; and
that simply didn't make any sense.  What could she possibly have to
feel guilty about?

"There's no other man?"  he asked, wanting to get that out of the way
right now.

"Not the kind you think."

"You're not involved with anyone?  In love with anyone?  Sleeping with
anyone?"  Irrationally, he felt murderous at the possibility, though he
had no right to do so.  "No."

"Then what?"  he said, waiting to be blindsided.

"There are things I haven't told you, things I should have told you
years ago."

"Okay," he replied, wondering how people felt when they turned around
on the street and found a car barreling toward them.  In that instant
before they were sent flying through the air, did they have the time to
think the situation through?  How it would feel?  How badly it would
hurt?  What they could do to stop it?

"Carolyn, you're frightening me."  And he wasn't a man who was easily
scared.

She looked like a woman ~whose heart had been recently broken. Clearly,
the wound was still fresh.  He watched while she gathered herself
together.

"I need to tell you about what happened after you left," she said
finally.

He braced himself even more, if that was possible.  He deserved this,
he reminded himself.  He'd left her, and he deserved to hear about the
pain that desertion ~had caused her.  But that wasn't all there was to
this.  He was certain of

"Tell me," he insisted.  He could take it.

"I... I thought I-was going to die.  I think I could have died,
happily, for a long time afterward.  This town, the house, the pictures
on the walls of fitnnie, and the pictures in my mind of you and I" She
just shook her head.  "The memories were everywhere.  Sometimes at
night, I'd swear that once I stopped crying, I could hear my mother
crying in Annie's room and my father sobbing in their bedroom.  Our
house was the most awful place in the world.

"I want you to understand how they were--my parents, I mean.  They were
devastated.  Annie was such a joy to them.  She was like sunshine, she
just lit up the room.  And the way she laughed... I'll never forget her
laughter.

"Anyway, when she was gone, once we all accepted the fact that she
wasn't coming back, it was like no one would ever smile again.  No one
would laugh.  I didn't see how we were going to go on, because there
just wasn't any reason to."

Drew suddenly felt sick to his stomach.  "Are you trying to tell me
that you tried to kill yourself?"

"No," she said tentatively, "although there were times when I wished
God would just take me, when I tried to tell him to bring back Annie
and take me instead."

"Carolyn..."  he began, but she stopped him by laying a hand on his
arm.

"That's not what this is about," she said.  "I want--no, I need--for
you to understand what it was like here~ I don't know how we all
survived it, how we got through the days.  They all just blurred
together after a while, and nothing mattered.  Not anything.

"And then Billy came along."  She shook her head in wonder, obviously
going back in time to those days.  "It was like a miracle.  We weren't
sure of that at first, and we were all so scared of caring about
someone else.  We knew there just weren't any guarantees in life.  One
day, you have someone.  The next, you don't.  It's so different once
you understand that.  It,s so much harder to love someone, knowing how
easily and how quickly you could lose them.

'~"Anyway, we were scared about Billy, but he turned out to be the best
thing that could have happened to us.  He gave us all a reason to keep
going, and eventually he taught us how to laugh again and to smile and
to look forward to each day.

"You have to understand that, Drew.  Without him, I don't think we
would have survived.  My parents... Billy meant the world to them.  And
when you left, I thought that you just didn't love me anymore.  That
you never had.  That whatever was between us just hadn't meant that
much to you."

"That's not true," he said.

"I know.  Now, I see that so clearly.  I think I have for years.  But
then, I didn't.  I was just so hurt and so scared and so alone... " Oh.
" She paused, clearly lost.  " Where was I?  " Drew shook his head.

"I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"No."

She nodded.  She'd already known that.

"Carolyn, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I just thought, if you understood the way it was back then, that you
might he able to see the rest of it the way I did.  I regret losing
you, but I can't regret what I did.  I've watched, over the years, and
I know how much they needed Billy, and he's been happy with them, Drew.
I know it looks bad now, but it's only been this way since my father
died.  Other than these past six months, Billy's been happy and safe
and loved.

"I couldn't have asked for more than that for him, and you have to
understand.  At least, I thought you'd understand a little... I thought
that would mean something to you.

"I did the best thing that I knew to do.  And you can't ask me-to be
sorry for that or for him, but I'mso sorry for you... for what I did to
you."

"Carolyn, you're not making any sense."

"Billy," she said.  "It's about Billy.  He's ours.  At least, he was
ours.,

"Our child?"  he said incredulously.

She nodded.

"You're telling me that we have a child?"

"We did.  He's theirs now.  My parents."

Drew wasn't sure.  exactly what he said then, or what he did.  But he
could hear her voice.  It seemed to be coming to him from so far
away.

"I'm sorry," she said.  "Drew, I'm so sorry."

Drew didn't exactly know how he felt.  He was surprised, and people so
seldom surprised him.  He usually knew what they were going to do or
what they were going to say.  It came from years on the job, years of
watching people and understanding what made them tick.

But this?  This had come out of nowhere.

Because it was so ingrained in him to analyze each and every piece of
information he received, to try to figure out in hindsight what he'd
missed along the way in any investigation, and where he'd gone wrong,
he ran through the clues he'd missed from the beginning.  Besides, that
kept him from thinking about the real issue here.  He forced it out of
his head for another moment.

When he came here, to Grace McKay's home, she'd said some strange
things to him, something about knowing why he was here.  Yes, he could
see it now.  She'd acted as if she already knew why he'd come ba~ck.
But she Couldn't have known he'd come about Annie.  So she must have
thought he'd come because he'd found out about Billy.

And the doctor, the man who'd been the family doctor for years, had
acted strangely, too.  He'd have to have known all along that Grace
McKay hadn't given birth to her child.  And Drew would have bet the man
had put everything together when he returned.  Carolyn too, had seemed
so frightened at first, almost afraid of him, even, before he told her
about Annie.  He remembered now, and saw it for what it was; she'd
actually been shocked when she found out he wasn't here about Billy.

He should have seen her reaction for what k was.  Carolyn wouldn't he
afraid of him.  Angry at him, maybe,.  unsettled by his unexpected
return, apprehensive, perhaps, but not afraid.  He'd never given her
reason to be afraid of him.  He wouldn't do that now, though the
temptation to give in to the rage that he felt was overwhelming.

She was still here .  still in the same room with him.  She was sitting
on the corner of the couch, her tears dry now,

as she waited for him to say something.

God, what could he say?

He stood at the window and looked out at the main road of this town he
had come to hate more than any other--and had missed more than it
seemed possible.

He'd missed Carolyn, too, but he'd never even had a chance to miss
their son, because he hadn't known about him.  His son.

Drew slammed his fist against the windowsill.  He heard Carolyn gasp as
the window rattled, though it didn't break.  He felt a little better
for having tried to drive his hand into the wooden casing around the
window, and considered doing it again.  It might ~eel even better the
second time.  And it might help dissipate some of the all-consuming
rage he felt at this moment.

Curiously, Drew realized, he wasn't that angry at Carolyn, It was life
that had him so enraged.  It was the circumstances that had led her to
make the decision she'd made.

If he believed there truly was a God, he'd be cursing him right now.
How could he play with people's lives this way?  How could he let evil,
such as the man who'd taken An-hie, exist in this world to hurt little
children and mess up so many lives in the aftermath?

It made no sense.  There was simply no logic to it.  And Drew still
wanted the world to make some sense at times, feeling he was owed that,
at least.

Otherwise, he had to accept the fact that random acts of violence were
simply that--random, careless acts.  That at any moment he could get
his brains blown out, or could crash his car into a concrete wall or
drive it over the side of a mountain, and that there was nothing' he
could do about it.  That he had no control over this world in which he
was living, even over his own life.  And he just couldn't accept
that.

Show me the purpose in this, he railed to the sky outside his window.
Make sense of this for me.

He dared anyone to do so.

Once more, because he had all this energy that he had to expend, he
slammed his hand against the windowsill.

He turned toward the door without looking at Carolyn.  "I have to go,"
he said, latching on to the job that had been his life for years now.
It was certainly easier to deal with than reality at this moment.

"Drew?"

"There's a psychiatrist coming in from Chicago to be with Sara Parker
while we question her tonight.  It's to be at one of the field offices
in Indiana, and I'm going to be there.  I've got to ask Sara about the
clothes, and about Annie."

He gathered up his briefcase, his jacket, the keys to his rental car
and to the room, and headed for the door.  Carolyn hadn't moved, and
he.  he just didn't care at the moment.  He didn't have anything he
could say to her right now about the things that were uppermost in his
mind, and she'd just have to understand that.  He had enough to do,
trying to understand himself.

But first, he had a job to do.

"I'm going to find out what happened to Annie," he told her.  "The rest
of this will have to wait until then."

"Drew."  She came to stand in front of him.  He'thought for a moment
that she might ask him not to go.  That she might even beg him.  She'd
done that once before, and he hadn't listened.

"I have to go," he told her, and walked out the door.

Carolyn wasn't sure how long she sat in Drew's room.  She didn't want
to lift her hand to look at her wristwatch, b~ause she was afraid if
she moved, she'd fall apart.

Drew had simply left the room.  He hadn't said that he hated her, that
he'd never forgive her, that he wished he'd known.  anything like
that.

And he hadn't given her any indication of what he was going to do, now
that he knew about Billy.

Carolyn didn't want to think of the possibilities.  She didn't want to
acknowledge the fact that there was a real chance Billy would be
hurt.

She and Drew had never talked about having children.  They hadn't
gotten to the point in their relationship where they daydreamed about
being married and raising a family of, their own.  She didn't even know
if he had any desire to be married, let alone have children.  Yet
they'd had a child.  Once upon a time.

But they didn't anymore.

She had to make him understand that they didn't have any rights to
Billy.  They couldn't take him away from the person who'd been caring
for him and demand to have him back.

Children belonged to the people who loved them and cared for them, not
the ones who happened to have given birth to them.

Yet it was true that she'd never given Drew a choice or a say in the
matter.

Drew had rights; if he insisted, he could exercise them in the courts.
She would have to convince him not to.

While she was at it, maybe she could convince him not to hate her, as
well.

Carolyn finally risked moving enough to check her watch.  It was ten to
three.  Time to go get Billy from school.  If she left now, she could
catch him before he got on the bus, then take him to the hospital to
see his mother.  And then she needed to explain to her mother what
she'd done.

Billy told Carolyn that he'd had a good afternoon at school.  He'd
enjoyed the Halloween party and gotten lots of candy.  Carolyn was glad
she'd insisted that he go, be.  cause he'd needed to get away from the
hospital for a while.

She'd checked on her mother's condition by phone he-fore she left, and
been told she was awake.  and alert, so She and Billy went straight to
the hospital.  He was eager to see his mother, and Carolyn was afraid
that if she didn't force herself to tell her mother what she'd done
this afternoon, she might lose her nerve.

It wasn't going to be pretty.  And she'd have to clear the situation
with Grace's doctor first.  But her mother had to be told.

Because Carolyn had no idea what Drew was going to do next, and they
had to be prepared.

It occurred to her now, after she'd panicked and told him, that he had
far more legal rights to Bffiy than she did.  Hope House did a lot of
work on children's rights, on the laws affecting children and on court
precedences.  Lately, courts had again and again reaffirmed the rights
of biological fathers in cases of adoption.

Carolyn had relinquished all rights to her son at his birth.  She'd
simply signed them away.  Drew had not.  He'd never been told the child
existed, and that gave him incredible power in the courts--if he
decided to press the issue that way.

She looked over at Billy, who was happily digging into his bag of
Halloween treats, and saw again how very much he looked.  like his
father.

She didn't think Drew would hurt him like that, not once he'd had a
chance to calm down and to think things through.  But right now, when
he was so angry, she wasn't

"Billy," she said to the boy, trying to keep that quavering tone out of
her voice, "I love you cry much."

He barely glanced up from the candy bag.  "Love you, too, Carolyn."

They arrived at the hospital shortly, then took 'the elevator up to
Grace McKay's room.  Billy paused in the doorway and called softly,
"Mom?"

Grace was lying on the bed, dozing, but she woke up right away and'
turned to him with a smile.  "Billy!"  She threw her arms open wide,
and Billy ran to her.

He loved her so much.  Carolyn reassured herself of that right then.
Billy had a good life with the parents she'd given him.  Drew would
have to understand that.

She watched as her mother caught Billy close and squeezed him tight.
Above the boy's head, Grace McKay looked at her daughter, and the smile
faded.  Uncertainty, maybe even fear, replaced the joy.

Carolyn looked away then.  When she couldn't be sure she could control
her own emotions, she backed out of the room and went across the hall.
Thankfully, she found the waiting room empty.  She went inside and
closed the door behind her, then tried to block out the image of her
mother's face.  Her own mother was afraid of her.  She was afraid of
what Carolyn was going to do.

It was the stuff of nightmares, and she didn't have anyone she could
talk to about this.  Drew was furious with her, and her mother .  this
whole mess was pulling the two of them apart.

Ca~olyn's aunt walked into the waiting room about fifteen minutes
later.  She graciously offered to take Billy home, and didn't ask any
questions that Carolyn didn't want to answer.  All Carolyn had to say
was that she needed to talk to her mother, and Aunt Ellen understood.

She knocked quickly on her mother's hospital room door and then went
in.  As she'd noticed before, her mother seemed to have aged overnight.
The tiny lines around the corners of her eyes and her lips were-more
pronounced.  The gray in her hair seemed to stand out more than usual,
and she still had a fragile air about her that Carolyn found
frightening.  She'd hoped that her mother's appearance was temporary,
that it would disappear after a day of rest, but it hadn't.

The doctor had assured her that all his tests had found nothing
physically wrong with Grace.  But emotionally she was exhausted.  He'd
warned Carolyn to be careful, but she didn't see how she could avoid
telling her that Drew now knew everything.

"Well, come on over here and tell me what you've done, Carolyn," her
mother said, making her feel as if she were eight years old.

"You went and told him, didn't you?"  Grace stated, saving Carolyn from
having to say it herself.  "God help us

"I had to," she replied, wishing that she was a little girl again, that
she could pour out her troubles to a mother who would make everything
all better.  "He and Billy look exactly alike.  Dr.  Moore saw it. 
Aunt Ellen saw it.  It was only a matter of time before someone else
saw it and said something to him, or until he figured it.  out
himself"

"What did he say?"  the older woman asked matter-of.  factly, clearly
in cOntrol again.

Carolyn shrugged helplessly and looked away, glad to see thi.  ~
take-charge side of her mother coming back again, but wishing the
reemergance of her mother's true disposition could have held off a
little longer.

"Carolyn?"  Grace said, prodding her.  "He was stunned.  He was angry.
He..."

"And what's he going to do?"

Carolyn swallowed hard.  "I don't know."

"He can't have Billy," her mother said, sounding amazingly strong for
someone who'd been rushed to the hospital just a day before.  "He can't
come back here after ten years and take Billy away from me."

"We never gave him a chance all those years ago."  Carolyn was
defending Drew, and maybe trying to defend herself, as well.  "He never
had a choice in the first place."

"He can't take Billy."

"It was wrong," Carolyn said.  "What we did to him was wrong."

"We did what was best for Billy," her mother insisted.  "I believe
that, and I think we can make Drew understand that, but that still
doesn't make what we did to him right."  Or what we did to me, she
considered~ though she didn't voice it out loud.

She thought again of that awful day when her mother had suggested this
way out ~for her, when Carolyn had known for certain how much her
mother wanted and needed Billy.

Carolyn had needed him, too, even if she was a seven-teen-year-old
scared to death at the thought of being responsible for another
person's life.  What if she messed up?  What if he got hurt?  Or lost?
She couldn't even face that possibility.

She'd jumped at the idea of giving Billy to her parents to raise.  It
would mean that she could still see him.  She'd always know that he was
okay.  She could still hold him in her arms to reassure herself of
that.  It hadn't sounded nearly as difficult as giving him up to some
strangers.  i

And it had been the right thing to do for Billy at the time.  But what
about now?  she wanted to ask her mother.  Looking down at the older
woman, who was still uncharacteristically fragile looking and plainly
weakened by this ordeal, Carolyn decided this wasn't the time to take
this argument any further.  Particularly when they had so many other
things to deal with.

"I don't know how to tell you the rest of it," Carolyn said, wishing
she knew what her mother remembered and what she didn't about the
events that had led up to her attack.  "Drew... he thinks there's a
chance that whoever took that little girl from Chicago last weekend
could be the same man who took Annie."

Sara Parker was still in southern Indiana, near where she'd been found.
She was leaving for her home tonight.  But first, a child psychiatrist
who frequently worked with the police and the FBI on cases such as this
had come from Chicago to talk to her about what happened to her.  They
hoped that keeping her in the area would help her to remember.

Drew had to be there while they questioned the girl.  This was his job,
something he could finally understand.  The criminals, the victims,
their families--the things that.  happened to them seldom made sense,
but his job did.  He found the kids, and he caught the bad guys.  It
was wonderfully simple, all-absorbing; it was often mentally and
physically exhausting, as well, but he didn't care.

He threw himself into his work, because then he didn't have time to
think about what Carolyn had told him or to begin to imagine what he
was going to do.

Drew arrived at the hospital room where Sara had been kept overnight
for observation, just in time for the session with the psychiatrist to
begin.  He had already met Dr.  Nicholas Garrett, and he was glad the
man was here to help them.  The psychiatrist was kind, soft-spoken,
low-key, and he started by talking about nothing more than the kinds of
dolls Sara liked to play with and her favorite TV shows.

Sara looked almost normal today.  She sat cross-legged on the hospital
bed, wearing Cinderella PJs.  She held a ragged-looking doll in her
lap, and one of Sara's tiny hands was swallowed by that of her mother.
Slowly, carefully, she answered all the questions Dr.  Garrett put to
her, all the time keeping her eyes steadily on his.

She remembered more now than she had before, although she said she'd
seen little and hadn't recognized anything about the place where she
was kept.  The bad man had pulled his truck to a stop beside her as she
walked along the street.  He'd told her that her house had caught on
fire, and that she couldn't go home.  He'd offered to take her to her
mother and father, and he'd had a fireman's helmet lying on the front
seat of his truck and been wearing what looked to her like a fireman's
coat.  She'd gone willingly, without making a sound, and he'd let her
wear the fire helmet.

Just great~ Drew thought.  The firemen taught kids not to be afraid of
going with them while they wore their oxygen masks and fireproof suits
if their houses ever cauglat on LIFE.  And now he needed to tell kids
not to trust strangers with fire helmets who told them their houses had
burned to the ground.  They should be careful about people who looked
like policemen and told them their parents had been hurt in a car
accident, and nice-looking strangers who claimed to have lost their
puppies, too.  That was another favorite they used.  "Littlegirl, I've
lost my puppy, and I was wondering if you could hdp me find it," Off
went the kid into the wood~ with a total stranger.

It made Drew sick~

He sat there in silence while Sara told them that the man had soon
blindfolded her, tied her hands and feet and tossed he ring the back
seat, under a blanket.  She couldn't r~member ~how long they'd driven,
because she'd cried herself to sleep.  They'd spent the night
somewhere--she didn't know where.  She'd just slept and slept.
Obviously the man had drugged her.

She didn't know where he'd taken her next, or when, but it had been
dark when they got there.  She remembered what had sounded like the
interior of a cabin.

Sara had thrown up on the man when he told her that her parents were
dead, that they weren't ever coming back, that he'd be her father from
now on.  And the next day, before he could hurt her too badly,
something had frightened him.  There'd been a loud noise--like the
sound of a firecracker.

"Hunters?"  Drew mouthed the word to his boss, Bob Rossi, who was
standing across the room.

It was a logical assumption, if they'd been off in the woods at some
cabin used for hunting and fishing.  And that kind of place would
certainly provide the man with the privacy he needed.

Sara continued her story.  The noise had seemed to scare the man as
much as it did her, and they'd left the place quickly.  This time he
hadn't taken the time to tie her up.  They'd driven for hours, until
the man cursed and screamed as he beat on the dashboard of the truck.
He'd been nearly out of gas.  She wasn't sure where they.  were then,
but he'd found this country store in an isolated area.  And when he
went in to pay, she'd slipped out of the truck and into the back of
another one and the vehicle had taken off before the mean man came back
outside the store.

She'd tried not to look at the man, because he'd frightened her.  He
wasn't anyone she knew.  At least she didn't remember him.

Her description of him was vague to the point that it might as well
have been nonexistent.  He was Caucasian, older than her father, who
was twenty-seven but looked ancient these days.  He had dark, short
hair.  She hadn't looked at his eyes, had no idea of their color.  He
was a little overweight and smoked a lot of cigarettes.

Dr.  Garrett conferred with Bob Rossi, Drew and the two other agents in
the room.  He told them that he didn't think they were going to get
anything else out of Sara today regarding the man who'd taken her.
Finally, it was Drew's

"Hi, Sara," he said, trying not to look grim.  He didn't want to
frighten her.  "Remember me?  I'm Drew."

She nodded.  "I found my mommy again."

"I know."  He actually managed to smile.  "I told you that you'd find
her."  ~

"I want to go home now," Sara said.  "My mommy promised, if I~talked to
this nice man, I could go home.;' " Just another minute," he told
her.

He started running a hand over the various pockets in his jacket and
his shirt, until he found the imprint of the Polaroid of her he'd taken
and the one he had of Annie in the little red suit.  He was more
nervous than he remembered being on any other job.

Of course, he'd never worked on a case where he'd known the victim, and
that, he saw, changed everything.  ~ He wanted to solve everyJcase on
which he worked, but this one--he needed to solve this one; He was
desperate to'do so, and this little girl's memories were essential to
him.

"We just need one more thing," he said.  "About clothes?  The ones you
were wearing when you got away?  Where did you get them, Sara?"

She looked confused for a minute.

Drew pulled out the picture, selecting the first.  "These," he said.
"Remember, Sara?  It's tant.  Where did you get them?"

She glanced at the picture and quickly turned Obviously she didn't like
looking at it.  "The man.  bad man."

"He gave them to you?"

She nodded.

Drew thought he was going to choke before he through this interview. He
waft ted to know would tfiis man give her these particular clothes hold
some significance for him?  Some memory Annie?

But he was afraid to ask, because he didn't want to ask Sara why the
man had taken the clothes she was wearing or what he'd tried.  to do to
her afterward.

The doctors who'd examined her said she hadn't been raped, and the only
bruises they'd found on her were on her upper arms, no doubt from being
held against her will.  But that didn't mean much.  There were all
kinds of ways a man could hurt a little girl, and not all of them. left
bruises.

Drew backed up.  Sara said the bad man had given her the clothes.  That
was a starting point.  He would go from there.  "When did he give
yot/the clothes?  At the cabin... the place where you heard the
firecrackers?"

She nodded.  Dr.  Garrett looked nervous.  Drew realized he was in
dangerous territory.

"Did he say why he wanted you to wear those clothes?"

Drew asked, holding his breath.

Sara shook her head.  "No."

Drew pulled out the other picture, and when "Sara turned away without
even looking at it, he moved it around until it came into her line of
vision, even though she obviously didn't want to see.  Dr.  Garrett
rose to stand behind him, no doubt ready to cut him off, but he put up
a hand to tell him to back away.

"This is a friend of mine," he told Sara,-fighting to keep his voice
steady.  "This is a little girl named Annie, and I've been looking for
her for a long time.  She disappeared many years ago, and she had a
little red suit just like the one this man gave you to wear?"

Sara said nothing, but she was visibly upset.  Drew felt his
opportunity slipping away from him, and he wanted to scream at the
injustice of it.  "Sara, did he say anything to you about Annie?  Did
he tell you where he got the clothes?  Or why he kept them?  Or why he
wanted you to wear them?"

She started to cry then.  Her lower lip quivered, and then the tears
began to fall.

She knew something.  She knew something she wasn't telling him,
something she was afraid to tell him.  And he couldn't make her.

Her mother gathered her close in her arms, burying

Sara's face against her chest and covering the little girl's ears with
her hands.  She looked at Drew as if he were lower than pond scum.

"That's enough," Dr.  Garrett said, pulling him back.

He had to fight to make himself turn and go.  God alone knew when he'd
get another chance to talk to Sara.

was the only person who could help him figure out had happened ten
years ago and how it was connected to her disappearance.

Moving on sheer force of will alone, he made it to the door.  It was
killing him to walk away when he knew he was so close, but he made
himself do it.

"Hey, mister?"  he heard a tiny little voice sa3

hind him.

He whirled around, hope surging within him.  "Yes?"

Sara peeked out from the curve of her mother's protective embrace. 
"The' other little girl-- ?"

"Annie."  He was barely able to say the name.

Sara looked pained when she heard it.  "Did she ever back home
again?"

Drew took the innocent question like a kick in the

He couldn't believe how hard it was for even after all these years,
couldn't believe hurt.  ~ ~:

He looked at Sara Parker, her eyes locked on tears not quite dry.  He
watched her, safe in embrace, ready for her trip home, and hie.

"Not yet, Sara:' He had to stop and clear

"She hasn't made it home yet."

Chapter 10

It was late when Drew returned.  The bed-and-breakfast was dark, but
one of the keys he'd been given opened the front door.  The agent in
him wondered how many other such keys had been given out, how many were
ever returned and who could get into this house at any time if they
wanted.  But the man sun ply didn't care about any of that right
then.

He was going to his room.  Then he was going to do his damnedest to
forget everything that had happened to him since he'd come back to this
town.  He still couldn't believe someone had the nerve to name this
place Hope.  Hopeless, they should have called it.  It was simply
hopeless.

Sara Parker had summed it all up with her innocent question about

Did she ever get back home again?

And what had he said?  Not yet.

Who was he kidding?  It had been ten damn years.  An-hie McKay wasn't
ever coming back home again.  Why had he ever thought she would, or
that anything he could do now would somehow make a difference about
what had happened all those years ago?

Had he thought he could simply erase everything that had gone on in the
past ten years?  Had he thought he could go back in time, pick up where
he'd left off with Carolyn and relive those years he'd spent without
her?

He was crazy.  This whole situation had made him crazy ten years ago,
and it was still doing that to him, even now.

It was the past, he told himself sternly, and he could' not change
it.

Nothing that happened now, nothing he did to find out.  what happened
to Pmni , could change all that had gone on since she'd disappeared.

He and Carolyn had a son, and he'd never even seen him until a day and
a half ago.  Billy had lived the first years of his life without Drew,
and he migh it, as well, without ever knowing Drew was his father.

Drew thought about turning around and going outside, maybe going for a
long, mind-numbing through the darkened streets, or just walking and
stopping.

He took a minute to assess the situation.  It was midnight.  He was
exhausted, and he honestly he could have walked to the next county and
still able to clear his head.

In the meantime, he found himself at the door room.  He went inside and
not bothering to flick on light, threw his coat across the chair, tool
socks, then headed for the bathroom.

It was a telling indication of how caught ut he was that he'd spent at
least forty-five room before he realized there was someone else
ready.

Carolyn was in the corner, curled up in the chair.

He uttered a single, blasphemous curse, louder than he intended.  It
seemed to reverberate around the room for an eternity, and had her
nearly jumping out of the chair.

Drew turned his back, not wanting to see what the day had cost her, not
wanting her to see what it had done to him.

"I don't have anything to say to you tonight," he told her, his tone
dead even.  The furor of his emotions had left him drained and empty.

And then he headed for the bathroom and closed the door behind him.  He
brushed his teeth, washed his face, then started pacing while he waited
for the sound of the door closing behind her.  The only problem was,
the bathroom was too damned small for walking, and he could have sworn,
from what he heard and what he sensed, that she hadn't budged from the
chair.  ~

He could not deal with this tonight.  Grimly he turned to the door,
wrenched it open and stalked back out.  He didn't care to make any
explanations to anyone tonight--least of all her.

And he didn't owe her any, dammit.

She might feel she owed him some more, but he wasn't.  interested in
hearing them.

"Not tonight, Carolyn," he said when he saw that he was right.  She
hadn't budged yet.

Drew looked longingly at the wall he'd nearly put his fist through, at
the glass he couldn't afford to break.  He wasn't a violent man, but he
certainly felt like one tonight.

"What do you want from me?"  he asked,~ unable to think of any other
way to get her to leave.  "What?"

It didn't mean he'd answer her; but maybe if she at least got the
chance to say whatever she felt compelled to say, she'd go and leave
him alone.

"I didn't tell Billy yet," she said, rushing along.  "I told my mother,
but I didn't tell Billy.  He doesn't have a clue--about any of this.  I
know you're angry, and I know you have a right to be, but I had to ask
that you give this some time before you tell him--if you want to tell
him, that is."

"I'm not going to tell him anything tonight, okay?  Will you please go
now?"

She stood, still in the shadows.  He couldn't see her face or anything
of her expression, but he felt some hope that this would soon be
over.

"Billy's very upset right now," she continued.  "My father... his
father... He thinks his father just died a few months ago, and now my
mother's ill.  He's frightened.  It's going to take some time.  If you
could just give it some time.  "

She took three steps across the room toward him.  He counted them.
Mentally he judged the distance left between them, and saw that it
wasn't enough, With his mind, he willed her to cut to the left, to walk
around him and keep on going to the door, through it and into the
night, so that he could be alone.  But, of course, she didn't.

She put her hand on his arm, and he couldn't help himself.  He
flinched, then threw out his hand in an effort to tell her without
words to get the hell away from him.

And, dammit, he'd frightened her.  Hell, he was frightening himself
tonight, and that was one reason he didn't want her anywhere near
him.

This kind of rage, this out-of-control feeling was one he'd never
experienced so sharply.  He wasn't afraid that he'd hurt her
physically; he wasn't that far-gone.  But he couldn't be sure of what
he might say to her right now.  Some things couldn't be taken back.

"Please," he said, wondering how long it had been s'nice he'd actually
begged anyone for anything.  "Please, just go."

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding as miserable as he felt.  Drew closed
his eyes, willing himself not to look at her, not to stop her, not to
explain.  Not tonight.

She.  turned abruptly in the direction of the door.  He was aware of
every move she made, and he probably knew he-fore she did that she'd
thrown herself off-balance on the claw foot of the ottoman.  He whirled
and caught her as she pitched forward, saving her from hitting the
floor and putting her squarely in his arms.

Helplessly he looked over her face.  It was stamped with tension,
weariness, pride, all mingling with some emotion that he couldn't begin
to read.

He pushed~ her away.  from him, putting some distance between their
bodies, but hanging on to her with two hands that remained on her upper
arms, not letting her go at all, but not allowing her any closer.

"You understand, don't you?"  He held her still, this old familiar
power humming hetweenthem now.  It was like a tangible force, something
that bound them together, yet wasn't powerful enough to negate all the
other influences.  that seemed determined to tear them apart.

She understood that.  He would have sworn that she must, because it was
so clear to him.  That was what was making him so crazy tonight.

"It's right here," he said to her.  "Everything I've been missing all
these years, everything I've wanted.  Every, thing I threw away--it's
right here, no more than an arm's length away from me.  It's so close,
I can touch it, but I can't hang on to it.  I can't figure out how to
push everything else out of the way and make you mine.  Forever."

The last part was the stickler.  He wanted forever--with Carolyn.

And Billy and Annie and her mother--they were all standing here between
them.  He could have handled her mother's objections.  He was working
to somehow assuage the guilt that would always he associated with
Annie. But Billy?

He had to take a very deep, slow breath and try to hold it for a minute
in order to steady himself.

Billy was the immovable object now.  And Carolyn wanted Drew to leave
the boy alone.  She wanted him to be content just to know him in some
small way, but to leave him with the woman he believed to be his mother
and to let him think his father was dead and buried.  She didn't want
him to tear apart everything Billy believed to be true about his life
and his family.

He couldn't have said that he didn't understand her wanting that.  God
knew he'd seen enough families torn apart to realize what it did to the
kids.

But he didn't see how he could walk away from the boy, either.  And he
didn't see how he could build a life with Carolyn and not have Billy
planted firmly between them in the process.  He saw more than enough
anger and resentment between him and Carolyn to rip them apart all over
again.

That was why he was angry tonight.  He didn't see any way to fix the
situation they were in.  And he wanted her so badly; he'd wanted her
like this for years.

What in the world was he going to do about that?  It would only end up
causing them even more pain than be, fore.

"It's hopeless, Carolyn," he finally told her.  "It, s absolutely
hopeless."

"Don't say that."

"Nothing's changed between us.  Nothing," he pea ted "I still want you.
I still need you.  The feelings have for you haven't changed.  If
anything, stronger.  And it's still absolutely hopeless.  You stand
that, don't you?"

But he didn't think she did.  Carolyn looked as he felt, and he
couldn't take the half-truths and evasions between them any longer.

"I'm still in love with you."  He blurted out the not afraid of letting
her see the anger that them, even as he pulled her a little bit closer
to him, even as he came a little bit closer to the point of madness.

He wanted her.  Ten years' worth of longing had simmered inside him for
too long.  Now it threatened to explode around them.

Heedless of that, he settled her trembling body against his, noted in
some corner of his mind that she made no objections to her position.

Oh, he wanted her.  He had no business feeling that way right now, but
it was another of the things that were driving him crazy tonight.

He had to make her understand that.  He had to explain it to her,
because he couldn't be the only one to feel this way.

"I could take you in my arms right now and make you mine again, but it
wouldn't last.  No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't last," he said,
feeling his body harden at the thought of finally being with her
again.

"I feel like someone's playing a vicious game with us.  Like he brought
us back here, let us remember how this felt, let us ache for each other
all over again, only to yank it away."

She didn't say anything.  Her lower lip trembled, but she didn't cry,
didn't try to escape from his embrace.

"Explain it to me," he demanded, getting right' up in her face.  He was
scaring himself now.  "Tell me why it all happened this way.  Tell me
why it had to end this way."

"I don't know," she said, so close he could see the little green flecks
in her dark eyes.  "I know you're mad at them"

"Carolyn, I'm mad at the whole world tonight.  Everyone and everything
under the sun.  Tonight I'm downright dangerous."  ~

Disgusted with himself and the whole situation, he dropped his arms
down to his sides and turned his back to her.

When she didn't move, he added, "You need to go home.  Right now."

Carolyn swallowed hard and stood' her ground.  She was still caught up
in a whirlwind of emotions, back at the point where she could have
sworn he'd.  said he still loved ~her.

How in the world could he still love her?

Of course, in the same breath, he'd told her that this whole thing
between them would never work, that it was hopeless.

She could understand his thinking it would never work, but she had a
hard time with the hopeless part.  True, one seemed to be much the same
as the other, but she needed the fine luxury of hope, especially since
she didn't see any reason for that hope.

Until he said he still loved her.

No one had loved her in years.  No one had ever wanted her the way Drew
did.  No one had ever made her feel.  the way he did.  She hadn't
wanted to fight for anyone else ~ the way she was ready to fight for
him.

And where there was love, she wouldn't give up.  couldn't, either.
Surely the worst was over between now.  He knew what she'd done.  She
knew why her.  It was all out in the open now, and they couldn't up.

She wished she had the courage to tell him.  thought he loved her; if
he still wanted her, after all he couldn't give up now.

Just as he'd said, it was all within their reach.

right here beside her, and she had to make him stand that it wasn't
hopeless at 'all.

Not if he loved her.

Not if she loved him--and she most certainly did.

He was downright dangerous, he'd warned her.  everyone and everything,
and downright

Well, if that was what he felt tonight, they'd just have to work with
it.  She'd just have to show him that nothing was impossible.

Afraid to breathe, afraid to even think farther ahead than her next
move, she inched closer to face him.  Unable to meet his eyes-at the
moment, Carolyn concentrated on the hard set of his jaw and what she
knew was the softness of his lips.

And, in an instant, the tension, the outpouring of emotion, the danger
he'd warned her about,4urned sexual.  She watched as the awareness shot
through him, as the temperature in the room skyrocketed.

"Go away," he said, catching her where she stood to keep her from
getting too close.  Then, as, if through sheer force of will, he pried
his fingers off her again.  "Go right now."  '

"I can't," she told him.  "I'm scared that if I do, I won't ever get
this close to you again.  I'm scared that you'll put up a wall between
us that I'll never break through."

"Carolyn, there's a bed over there.  I can't remember the last time I
had sex with a woman, and I've never in my life needed or want~t a
woman more than I want you right now.  I want to lose myself in you.  I
want to forget everything standing between us, and fool myself for a
little while into thinking this is going to work out."

"And there's a problem there?"  she said, marveling at her own nerve.
"Because I didn't pick up on it."

Drew swore softly, but stayed where he was.  His hand settled against
the side of her face.  The pad of one thumb traced its way across her
bottom lip, sending her pulse into overdrive, and her self-confidence
threatened to desert her here and now.

"You're playing with fire," he warned her, probably as much as he was
warning himself.

"I don't care anymore," she replied, feeling as reckless as he claimed
to be, real:~zing in some elemental way that she'd pushed him right to
the edge, that any second he wfis going to topple over it with her.
"Don't you see?  I don't have anything to lose anymore.  I haven't
since I watched you walk away from me, then walked away from here
myself, without my baby.  My life is ... it's so empty, so lonely.  And
I can't stand it anymore.  I just don't have anything or anyone, so if
there's a chance for us, I'm not going to walk away from it without a
fight."

"It's only going to complicate matters," he said.  "They're complicated
enough as it is, and our being together won't solve anything."

"Does that mean you don't want me?"

"It means I feel reckless tonight.  I feel cheated and lied to, and I
think I'm entitled to a hell of a lot more than one night with you."

He kissed her once then, kissed her hard and fast, his touch rougher
than any she'd ever known from him, his strength barely contained.

"Don't you understand?"  he said.  "I don't want be hurt any more by
this than you already ]

I don't want to hurt any more, either.  "

He wanted to leave his mark on this woman to so hard and so fast, to
get so fax inside her, could ever tear them apart again.  as his, to so
clearly imprint his possession of her on body and her mind that she
would never forget him,

stop missing him, never stop wanting him.

And even that wouldn't be enough.

She would do the exact same thing to him.  He never touch another woman
intimately ~

Carolyn and wishing he could be with her instead.  would be ruined,
forever.

"We had everything," he told her.  "We had it all: we lost it all.  And
that's making me a little night;"

When she didn't leave this time, he kissed her again.  When she didn't
protest, he did it once more.  He simply couldn't get enough of her,
couldn't get close enough, couldntt hold her tightly enough

Somehow, they made it to the bed without him having to let go of her or
break off the kiss.  He could barely breathe then, as he quickly shed
his clothes and followed her down.  He'd never turned on the lights, so
he couldn't see her as clearly as he would have liked, but the picture
of her was so clearly etched on his mind that it didn't matter.  And
her body, beneath his hands, was nearly as familiar as his own.  After
all, a man didn't forget the feel of a woman who'd lived in his dreams
for years.

With the' last of his self-control, he slowed down long enough to undo
the buttons of the shiny pink blouse she wore, to undo the snap of her
bra and to pull down her slacks.  He slid them off and threw them
somewhere, pulled and tugged and flung at the rest of her clothes until
neither of them had a stitch of clothing left.

"Don't be frightened of me," he said, looking down al~ her through the
darkness.

"I'm not."  Though she didn't sound c~nvinced, her hand came up.  to
caress his chest.

He let his mouth settle over the delicate skin at the base of her neck,
searching for that ultra sensitive spot that he remembered so well.
Pleasure shot through her, bringing her whole body up off the bed as
she gasped his name.  Tremors of pleasure shot through his body, as
well, because he got absolutely high off the idea of pleasing her this
way again.

He thought of all the little things he used to do that turned her on,
thought again about how much he simply needed to join his body with
hers in this instant, before he lost the chance at all.

This moment, this link between them, was so fragile, so tenuous, that
he felt certain someone or something was going to snatch her away from
him again, that they were going to be denied even this one moment in
time.

It drove him on, even though he badly needed to prolong this, because
he knew very well there might not be a next time.

She was writhing beneath him, struggling to somehow get closer to him.
Her legs parted easily for him, and the heat of her was nearly his
undoing.

As he settled himself on top of her, as he felt her arms close around
him, her nails biting into his hack and urging him on, he remembered
that they had to be careful this time.  And that made him mad.  That
made him think of what had happened before and of why he thought.  this
was all so hopeless.  And, irrationally, he didn't want anything
between them right now.  Nothing.

Still, he managed to grab a condom from the wallet in his pants on the
floor beside the bed, managed to rip the packet open and put it on.

The process cleared his head for a'moment, and he tried to squelch the
feeling of desperation that had been driw ing him on.

"There has to be more than tonight," he told her, kissing again and
again and again.  "There has to be."

He put one hand on her pretty little breasts while he' drank from her
mouth.  Then he let the hand go testing to see if she was ready for
him, finding that she was:'

There would be other nights, he.  promised sitioning himself above her,
tensing for the heat pressure inside her.

"I love you," he told her, tensing the muscles in ~ thighs and his
buttocks, moving slowly inside her, when he wanted was to 'quickly bury
himself there.  "I never: stopped loving you."

The pressure gave way as she finally relaxed, letting inside, and then,
in the same instant, it s over again.  She was so tight, so hot, so
familiar.  He sweating and fighting for all he was worth to slow down,
but it was too late.

"Don't stop," she told him, her nails digging into his back.  "Don't
you dare stop now."

He ground his hips against hers, once, twice.  And then she splintered
beneath him, coming apart in his arms, only

-moments before he did the same.  Wave after wave of pleasure rocked
him.  He couldn't get.  close enough to her, couldn't hold her tightly
enough, couldn't hang on to this moment that he wanted never to end.

"Mine," he told her, resting heavily on top of her.  "You were meant to
be mine."

And there would be other nights.

He'd fight the devil himself, if that was what it took, but there would
be other nights for them.

They hadn't even made it under the covers, and when the heat finally
subsided and the chill set in, he pulled the covers off the other side
of the bed and threw them over top of them both.  He adjusted their
positions, so that she was lying on top of him, then pushed her head
down to his chest.

Reality was slowly closing in on Drew, though he didn't want it to.  He
wanted to stay like this, with her body draped over his and his mind
blessedly blank to everything but his blinding need to take possession
of her.

He thought, disgusted with himself, that he'd taken her virginity with
more finesse than this, with more patience and more concern for her
pleasure.

And even now he felt this near-violent desire to have her again.  This
urgent coupling had done little, if anything, to blunt that blinding
need.  He wasn't sure anything would, except making love to her
morning, noon and night for the next decade or so.

Drew closed his hand around a tangle of Carolyn's hair that was now
draped across his chest.  He liked the feel of it in his hands, hadn't
had time before to experience that particular pleasure.  It gave him
something to hang on to.  He needed desperately to hang on to her.

"Are you all right?"  he asked, the words coming out almost as a
growl.

She tensed above him, the sweet aftermath of lethargy gone in an
instant, giving him yet one more reason to curse himself.

"I meant..."  He backed up and tried again.  "Did I hurt you?"

"No."

But he didn't quite believe her.  "I begged you to go," he said, though
he blamed himself for this.

"I know."

He tugged a little harder on that handful of hair, cause he had to see
her face.  It was dark, so he had to trust his hand, as well.  He found
the tears on her cheeks.  "I did hurt you."

"No... I just.... I haven't done this... in forever."  He bit back the
obvious question--how long it been--because he didn't want to know.  No
matter long it was, it hadn't been long enough.  Because he want anyone
else ever to have been inside had.

"I'm a little overwhelmed," she said.  "I'd how... personal it is.  How
you can't hold back.  thing... or hide anything."

And he thought that if he let her, she'd be off him this bed, into
every stitch of clothes she had and room so fast it would make his head
spin.  ~

He held her even tighter.  "I'm sorry.  Fm not so..."  He couldn't
think of any word to describe myriad things he had felt.  Desperate?
Impatient Scared?  Frustrated?  He could have gone on all not covered
them all.  "I don't know how I'm ever going to let you go,
sweetheart."

Carolyn shivered, and he held her closer.  She closed her eyes and knew
she'd finally figured out what he was trying to tell her.  That he
loved her, that he didn't want her to ever forget about him.  But that
this was goodbye.

"You can't do this," she told him, feeling desperate now.  "You can't
tell me one minute that you love me and then tell me goodbye.  You
can't."

It took awhile for her words to sink in.  She hadn't been sure what to
make of all of this.  She'd only known that if she let him go tonight,
he was going to put up all these walls between them, ones that she
might never break down.

And then the whole thing had exploded on them.  She still had the
feeling of being sucked down into a whirlwind, into a flash of need and
passion over which she had no control.  Blindly, eagerly, she'd
followed where he led.  And the only thing she regretted was the fact
that it was over.

She didn't want it to be.  And he'd better not dare try to tell her
this was goodbye, because for the first time in years she felt alive.
She felt loved and wanted and needed again.  "I begged you to go," he
said.  "And you wanted me to stay."

"But I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well, then, don't hurt me now, by trying to tell me this didn't mean
anything to you."

"It didn't solve anything," be told her.  "And it will only make it
harder, in the end, when I go."

She thought about telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't
going anywhere, because she wasn't going to let him.  But she wasn't
sure he was ready to hear that.

Instead, she asked him a question she'd already answered for herself.
"Could it get any harder than it already will be to let each other go a
second time?"

He swore, the~ rolled with her, so that sl~ was lying with her back on
the bed.  For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her again, but
he didn't.  He rolled back over, leaving her there while he threw off
the covers, sat up and started putting his clothes on.

"It's not hopeless," she told him as he put on his pants.  She'd do
anything to prove that to him.

So what if there was yet another mountain between them, another river
to cross?  This time, they'd cross them all.  They weren't running away
anymore, and they weren't lying to each other.

And surely it had to be easier at twenty-seven and~ twenty-nine than it
had been at seventeen and nineteen.  Surely they could haadle things
now.  She knew she'd certainly work harder at it, because she realized
now how rare ~ and how precious this thing between them was.

She had tonight to convince him that it wasn't hopeless: at all.

"Make love to me again," she said, sitting up in the bed and dragging
the covers with her.

He swore.

Carolyn .  sin' fled Clearly, she'd thrown him and it gave her hope.

"Make love to me again.  Tell me you love me z me I'm yours, and that
you're never going to let man' touch me again, and then tell me dare
you."

He bent over, picked up her bra and shirt and them at her.  "Put your
clothes on, Carolyn," he she knew he'd shut her out.

Tears flooded her eyes.  She stared up tried to blink them back.

"I don't know how to fix this," he said.  "It's going to be between us,
Carolyn.  And I don't see fix it."

"Maybe not tonight, but someday we will.  Give it some time, at least.
You just found out, for God's sake.  We can take a little time now to
try to figure it all out, can't we?"

"Your mother hates me.  She has for years, long before Billy became the
issue."

"So?  It didn't stop us from being together ten years ago.  It
certainly won't stop us now," she said.  The cold was starting to sink
in, now that he was all the way across the room.

"What about the guilt?"

~ "What about it?"  She pulled on her shirt and held the ~ends closed
around her.  It hung to her knees, coveting everything that had to be
covered, but there was no way she could manage the buttons right now.

"It's still there between us."

"But it doesn't have to tear us apart this time~" "what about Billy?"
That was his trump card, the one she couldn't explain away.  "You want
me to stay away from him, don't you?  You don't want him to ever know
the truth."

"I don't want him hurt, and I don't want you to take him away from the
only mother he's ever known."

"Which is another way of saying leave him alone.  Well, I don't knOW if
I can live with that.  And if I could, I'd sure as hell resent it.  I'd
resent you because of it.  I see it eating away at us forever, like
some poison in our relationship.  Tell me what to do about that."

"I don't know," she Said.  "But I" -- What could she say after that?
She loved him.

He'd told her he loved her.  He'd said she was meant to be his, and she
wanted to belong to him, just as she wanted him to belong to her.

Surely that had to count for something, didn't it?

Carolyn was no longer naive enough to believe that love conquered all,
but dam reit it had to count for something.

"I don't want to lose you again," she said, with as much pride as she
could muster when all she really wanted to do was latch on to him and
never let go.  She couldn't stand to lose him again.  That was what she
meant, what her pride wouldn't let herself tell him.

And then she was all out of arguments, and he still hadn't budged.
Feeling more miserable than she'd been in years, Carolyn struggled back
into her underwear and her slacks, found her shoes, her purse, her
keys, and went to stand by the door with her back to him.

Don't let me go, she prayed, but she got no answer from him.  She
rislCed one glance back at the bed they'd shared not more than five
minutes ago.  It seemed impossible to go from that to this so
quickly.

'

Don't let me go.

But he did.

Hastily she swiped the tears off her cheeks, then held her head high.
"What are you go' rag to do now?"  she asked, "About Billy?"

Carolyn nodded.  "I don't know."

She didn't even bother to ask what, if anything, planned to do about
her.

Chapter 11

Carolyn didn't want to get out of bed the next morn: She'd arrived home
around two-thirty that morning, f ing like a teenager trying to sneak
in after curfew.

She'd brought her mother home from the hospital ~ terday afternoon, and
she was sure Grace had heard come in last night.  Her mother certainly
didn't have to: where she'd been or who she'd been with.  Though,
doubt, she was wait' rag for some explanation.

For some reason, when Carolyn had just turned seventeen, a rebel of a
boy named Drew Delaney' had caught attention, and she'd never managed
to forget him.  He had worn his brown hair long--to his collar, he'd
had a beard and ridden a motorcycle.  Her straitlaced parents had been
horrified that their little girl, an honor student volunteer at the
local hospital, head of the debate tea had wanted to go out with such a
boy.

He'd graduated from high school the year before, but hadn't gone on to
college.  He'd worked.  at Eddie's Garage instead, living with his
grandmother.  And he'd been well-known as the son of one of the towifs
loudest drunks.

Carolyn had met him when her car broke down one day and Drew pulled his
motorcycle off to the side of the road and volunteered to help.  When
he couldn't get the car running, he'd offered to give her a lift back
to town, then invited her to hop on the back of his bike.

Remembering the way he'dlooked that day, his hair tied back carelessly
in a loose ponytail, the front of it blown every which way by the wind,
she was still amazed she'd ever gotten on that bike.  He'd worn a black
leather jacket, boots, and a killer grin.  And something absolutely
wicked had-been lurking in those nearly black eyes of his.

He'd been the most dangerous man she'd ever seen, riding to town with
him had been the most reckless thing she'd ever done.

She'd been fascinated with him from the start, probably been half in
love with him by the time he to a stop in front of her house, the bike
on otherwise quiet street, her parents both coming see what in the
world had happened to their poor LITTLE

They'd disliked him on sight, her mother

They'd worried about his drunk of a father, what someone like Drew
could have to offer their ter.

Carolyn had talked a mile a minute for months,

to make them see that Drew wasn't anything like his father, that he
drove the bike because it had ~ cheap, he wore his hair long these if
the town had already pegged him as maker like his father, then he'd
hate to disappoint

But he hadn't been bad.  Or dangerous.  Or hadn't been like that at
all.

Maybe, if she had more time, she would have to convince her parents of
that.

But Annie had disappeared not long after they fork her to see Drew
anymore.  And in that instant, whet, their lives changed forever, she'd
been with Drew.

Irrationally, her parents had blamed him.  In that s irrational manner,
she'd blamed herself and her love Drew Delaney.  And once he was gone,
she'd often r~ nalized that she'd deserved to lose him, that she didn't
any right to be happy with him when Annie was gone.

Carolyn rolled over in the little twin bed she'd slept i a girl and
listened for the sounds of the house coming to ~life again.  Surely her
mother couldn't hate Drew to day.  Surely she saw now how irrational
their feelings al him had been.

But now her mother had even: more reason to dislike him, even to fear
him. Grace McKay worried that D was going to take Billy away from her. 
And as long as saw Drew as a threat, she was bound to.  be upset ak
Carolyn having anything to do with him--particularl she stayed out till
nearly three in the morning with him

Nervously Carolyn wondered if her mother would figure out what else
they'd done last night.

Carolyn could hardly believe it herself.  It had be~ disaster, and yet
it been like nothing she'd ever enced before--at least not since Drew
had left~ nearly years ago.

Over the years, she'd lied to herself.  She'd told her the memories she
had of the two of them together could~ possibly be accurate, that it
couldn't have been as w derful as she remembered.

But it was.

He'd been lying there on top of.  ~her, his eyes boi down into hers,
swearing that she was meant to be his, she'd thought that settled it.
She felt the same way--~ they belonged together and nothing could tear
them ap~

But that wasn't what he had been telling her.  The frustration must
have been eating away at him at that point.  That was what he'd wanted
her to see.

She was meant to be his, but she wouldn't be.

Carolyn nearly jumped off the bed when someone knocked.  Aunt Ellen
called her name.

"Yes?"  Carolyn replied, clutching the covers to her, wondering
guiltily if he'd left some mark on her, either physical or emotional,
that everyone would see.

"Phone's for you, dear," her~ aunt said, walking into the room and
handing Carolyn the cordless phone.

She was afraid to take it.  Carolyn was sure it was Drew and she hadn't
begun to figure out what to say this morning.

Finally, she forced herself to grab hold of the phone; then press the
palm of' her hand over the mouthpiece.  "Is More up yet?"

Aunt Ellen was studying her too closely for comfort, "She's awake, but
still in bed."

"And Billy?"

"He's having breakfast."

"What about school?"  They hadn't discussed what.  do about that. Billy
was feeling much bet mr now mother was home from the hospital, but he
was still a the unsettled.  "Does be want to go to school?  Do he
should?"

"If he goes, your mother will probably get

And the doctor wants her to take it easy the neat days.  "

"Okay," Carolyn said, figuring She'd stalled she reasonably could.
"I'll be down in just, to him.  And thanks, Aunt Ellen.  I don't know
would have done without your help."  She waited until her aunt backed
out of the closed the door behind her before forcing herself to phone
to her ear.

Closing her eyes, she tried not to picture Drew in the darkness of his
room last night.  The lines in his face had been etched deeply, the
despair clearly readable for anyone to see.

"Drew," she said into the phone.

"No, Carolyn~ it's Brian."  Brian, from Hope House.  She clasped a hand
over her mouth to stifle any involuntary sound she might make.  "I've
been here for almost twenty hours straight staring at my computer
screen, and I've found three other possibilities."

"What?"  It was all she could manage.  ~ Yesterday she'd called he~
colleague Brian Wilson, a man who could do extraordinary things with a
computer,

and told him about Annie and Sara Parker.  She'd asked for some
information on other unsolved child abductions that might be connected
with the two girls.

And now he had three--three other families who~e lives had been ripped
apart, just like hers.

It sickened her.

"Carolyn?"  Brian asked.  "You okay?"

"Yes," she fibbed.

"I can go over this with Drew, if you'd rather."

"He'll probably want to talk to you," she managed to get out.  "But go
ahead and tell me what you've got."

"A little girl, age ten, taken six years ago from a suburb of
Louisville, Kentucky.  Another one, age nine, taken three years ago
from Cincinnati.  A third, age seven, taken a year and a half ago from
her aunt's, near Fort Wayne, Indiana."

Carolyn closed her eyes and tried not to put faces to the statistics he
rattled off.  "None of them were ever found?"

"No.  All of them snatched off the sidewalk or the streets of their own
neighborhoods and never seen again?"

And then she didn't say anything.  What else was there to say?

"Listen," Brian said finally, "why don't I print all this stuff out and
express-mail it to you?  You can have it tomorrow morning."

"Thank you."  She gave him her mother's address.

"Carolyn, if you need anything else--and I mean any-thing--you'll call
me, right?"

"I will.  Thanks again."

Carolyn was simply numb for the next two or three hours.  She tried to
call Drew at the bed-and-breakfast, but he was out, and she didn't know
how else to reach him.

She showered, dressed, walked Billy to the bus stop and waited there
with him until he was safely on the bus, then made a point of avoiding
her mother's room altogether.

She just couldn't stop thinking about those three other girls.

Around ten-thirty, as she was pacing the floor, wondering where Drew
could have gone ing, the phone finally rang, and Carolyn grabbed
"Hello?"

"Carolyn?"  a familiar female voice said.  "I'd heard were back in
town.  This is Emily.  Emily Forester."

The name meant nothing to Carolyn.  "I'm sorry..."

"F~mily Bradshaw, I should say.  I've been married so long now,.
sometimes I forget I ever had a

Ill,lie.  "

"Oh, of course" "Carolyn said.  Emily had lived down the street.  " How
are you?

"I'm fine, and I don't want to alarm you,

you should know.  I work at the elementary andw"

Carolyn jumped in.  '"Billy?  He's all right?"

"He's fine," Emily assured her.  "But his class side on the playground
right now, and his you should know--there's a man across the just
sitting there watching them play.  His teacher swears the man hasn't
taken his eyes off Billy the whole time they've been outside.  And
we're probably being silly even worrying about it, but you know how
things are these days.  You can't be too careful, so we thought you or
your mother should know."

Carolyn panicked at first.  After all, the man who'd taken her sister
had probably watched her for a long time first.  Child kidnappers often
did.  They picked their victims, then watched and waited for the right
opportunity to snatch them.

And if Brian Wilson was right, that man had taken three other little
children, as well.

Of course, that was crazy--thinking that the man who'd taken Annie
would ever.  come back and take Billy from them, as well.  But so was
the idea of a stranger grabbing a child and vanishing into thin air,
and that happened.  So this "Drew," she said, when the idea hit her,
cutting off the wild turn her thoughts had taken.  "Emily, is it
Drew?"

"Drew Delaney?"  The way the name had obviously popped into the woman's
head, when he'd been gone for ten years, told Carolyn that the gossip
was moving through the community at lightning speed, just as she had
suspected.  "I didn't get a good look at him, but now that you mention
it ... he's got that deep brown hair, the beard, the mustache, that
dark, kind of dangerous look.  Yes, it could be Drew ."  '

Carolyn was sure it was.  "I'll be right there, Emily."

"Should we call the children inside?  Do you think Billy in danger?"

"No."  Carolyn tried to calm herself long enough to re, assure her old
friend.  "Drew would never hurt Billy."

And all the way to the school, she prayed that she was right.

The school wasn't five minutes away.  Carolyn parked in front of the
building, then walked to the side where the playground faced Chestnut
Street.  That was where she found him.

There was a chain-link fence, there more to keep the kids off the
street than to keep strangers out, and Drew was standing against the
fence, his forearms resting on top of it, his chin on top of his folded
arms.

He didn't seem to care that more than a few of the people who worked at
the school had gathered in the corner by the lunchroom to stare at him,
just as he was staring so intently at Billy.

He surprised her now, looking like the Drew she'd known so long ago,
rather than the government agent in a subdued suit and He.

He had on an old pair of jeans, a button-down shirt and a
buttery-soft-looking brown bomber jacket.  She wouldn't have been
surprised to look around and find that old motorcycle of his somewhere
nearby.

Dark and dangerous, her old friend Emily had said, and he definitely
looked it today.

A part of her wished he had the old bike, wished they could just hop on
the back and roar right out of town, at least for a little while.  She
used to fantasize about that--about him just taking her away from
anything and everything that stood in the way of the two of them being
together.

Carolyn was reminded of an old bluesy rock-and-roll song about a man
picking up this woman and taking her off into the night, where nothing
could come between them.  That was the stuff her dreams had been made
of, back when she still believed that dreams could come true.

Well, they definitely couldn't run away from this, not anymore.
Resigned to that, she crossed the fifty yards or so between them and
went to stand beside Drew at the fence.

He turned to stare at her, his~.  eyes dark and brooding, his face
seemingly etched in stone, as if nothing could touch him anymore,
nothing could hurt him.

Just then the wind kicked up and a few strands of hair escaped from the
clasp at the back of her head and flew across her face.

"Drew reached out and brushed them away before she could, then stared
down at her for a moment, before the hair flew back across her eyes.
Carefully, gently, he tucked the strands behind her right ear.

A long, slow tremor passed through her, and the next, thing she knew,
he was slipping out of the brown leather jacket and wrapping it around
her shoulders.

"It's damn near freezing out here this morning," he said.  "Where's
your coat?"

"I... I didn't realize it was so cold."

He appeared puzzled for a second.  Obviously, it was hard to miss the
cold on a morning like this.  Then he looked around, as if to take
their surroundings in for the first time.  The kids were playing some
kind of dodge ball game, and their teachers were gathered in a cluster
in the corner outside the cafeteria, all staring at the two of them.
"They called you" he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and breathed in the warm, leathery scent
that clung to his jacket--his scent.  "The teachers didn't recognize
you.  They saw someone watching Billy, and got a little nervous."

"That's good," he said.  "They should be watching out for anyone who
stands here in the cold, staring at these kids."

She nodded and closed her eyes, trying not to think that a mere ten
hours ago she'd been in bed with him.

"I just needed to see him, Carolyn.  That's all."

"It's all right," she replied, wishing she could sink down inside his
jacket--it was still warm from his body--and hide from all her problems
for a little while.  "I under stand that, but ... you're not going to
tell him, are you?  Not now, not right here?"

He looked absolutely murderous for a moment.  leaning heavily into the
fence, laying his forehead on the top of it and staring down at the
ground, he let out a soft string of expletives.  She flinched at the
thinly Veiled anger evident in the words.

Turning her back to him, she stared across the playground to the spot
in the corner where Billy was laughing and chasing a ball, his legs
getting tangled up in another boy's, sending them both to the ground.
They rolled over and came up laughing, still trying to beat each other
to the ball.

"He's happy," she said.  "I know you're hurt and you'~

angry, but look at him.  He's happy.  And he's had a good life, Drew. I
know you want to be a part of his life now,.

and God knows, I do, too.  I've always wanted to be more i to him than
just his sister, but I don't see how to make that.  ,

happen.  I don't want to hurt him?  "

"Neither do I," he said.

She closed her eyes and thanked God for that.  '~

Then he added, "But I can't just walk away."  ~

"Oh," she said, then felt compelled, in the name honesty at last, to
say, "You know, if you tried, you he able to win custody away from my
mother."

He shot her a purely incredulous look to cut off the very air she
breathed.

"What?"  he asked.

She was actually relic wed to reaY~.  e that he ready been thinking
along those lines, even if brought up the idea.  It would tually, and
she didn't want to wait that long would react to it.  So she forced
herself to go on.  '~

"You have legal rights that you've never signed away, and more and more
the courts are recognizing the rights of birth fathers in adoption
cases.  If you wanted to take him, legally, you might be able to, but
I'd beg you not totay to do that.  The legal battle could go on for
years, and you know it would only upset Billy"

"Carolyn?"  He took her by the arms and turned her to face him.  "What
in hell are you talking about?"

"The courts?"  She shook her head, not sure what he was getting at.
"Your rights, legally."

"Carolyn."  It was a warning, and she heeded it.

The bottom line was so simple for her, and that was what he was asking
for here.  "Don't take him away from us.  Please don't do that."

"Aw, dammit..."  he said, turning away again and letting her go.  He
walked five steps in the other direction, nervous energy radiating from
him.

"I don't know how my mother would handle it," she called after him.  "I
don't know how I'd handle it, and Billy... Think about what it would do
to Billy."

"What do you think I am?"  he yelled back.  "Some kind of monster?"

"No."  Anything but that, in fact;-she acknowledged to herself.  She'd
seen.  the edge to him when they were teenagers, that attitude he'd
adopted ~because he was sick of being compared to his drunken father
and sick of knowing that the whole town didn't expect any more from him
than to follow in his old man's footstepa.  And, yes, he might have
looked a little dangerous, a bit of a rebel.  But that wasn't who he
was.

The real man was--always had been--incredibly 'gentle.  He was
intelligent, hardworking, determined, and she'd depended on him so much
back then--maybe too much.  She'd thought after Annie died that he
could somehow make everything better for her again, and he couldn't. No
one could have.

"I'm sorry, Drew," she said.  It was too little, too late.  "I'm... I'm
just so scared.  I don't know what's going to happen next, and I'm
worried about Billy and about you and my mother and... Annie.  I don't
know that I really want to know anymore what really happened to her.  I
think it's just going to cause us all a lot of pain."

"Are you asking me to drop this case?"  he asked.  "No."

"Because I can't."

Their conversation all ran together, and it took a minute for him to
realize that she wasn't asking him to do that.

"The man's still out there," he said.  "He grabbed Sara Parker five
days ago, and if we don't catch him, he'll grab someone else's little
girl."

"I know that."  "So I can't stop."  "I know."

"And whatever's between us is just going to have to take a back seat to
this case, at least for now.  I don't have any answers for you, anyway.
I don't know what to do about Billy.  I don't have any idea."

She believed he was telling her the truth.  He hadn't had time to get
used to the idea, much less figure out what he was going to d~yabout
it.

In the distant, a bell rang out, and she flinched at the unexpected
sound.  The kids on the playground grumbled as their teachers started
getting them lined up to go inside.

Billy and his friend got in line, pushing each other good-nature ally
He had a big smile on his face, which brought tears to Carolyn's eyes
as she watched him go inside and bade him a silent goodbye.

This goodbye reminded her of all the others.  Some.  times it seemed as
if she'd spent her whole life either saying goodbye to him or trying to
push him over into some small, carefully regimented corner of her
heart, where she could love him and miss him and at the same time
maintain some control over those feelings.  She couldn't let loose and
love him in the all-consuming, lavishly encompassing way she would have
liked.  She couldn't throw open her arms and latch on to him, because
she'd never be able to let go.

"Carolyn?"  Drew said her name softly.  He was closer to her than she'd
realized.  She looked up and found herself nearly nose to nose with
him.  The wind cut through his hair, and his long, dark lashes came
down, keeping her from seeing anything she might have been able to read
in his eyes.

But in the next instant, his gloved hands were on her face, the leather
cool and supple against her skin until he pulled off one glove and
wiped the back of his thumb across her cheek.  She blinked back the
next tear before it had a chance to fall, but before he could pull away
from her, she caught his hand and held it against her face.

"Last night..."  She had to rush ahead before she lost her nerve. "Last
night you said-you still loved me."

He looked bleak.  She thought he might kiss her, but then he seemed to
change his mind.  Pulling his hand from beneath hers, he backed
slightly away.

"But I didn't say it made a difference about anything," he said
bitterly.  "Tell me what, if anything, changes he-cause of that."

"I don't..."  she began, then faltered.  What could she say?  That it
mattered to her?  That a few men had claimed to love her over the
years, but she either hadn't believed them or hadn't felt as if they
were capable of loving anyone?  That none of them had come close to
mattering as much to her as Drew did, that no one ever would?

She was sure of that now.  No one's love would ever mean as much to her
as his did.

"Drew?"  She put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off and held
up a hand to keep her from coming any closer.

"Dammit, Carolyn, why do you think I'm so mad?  Loving you just doesn't
change anything."

She was quiet for a moment, and when she looked up, she saw that he'd
put on his glove and pulled out his car keys.  Obviously, he was ready
to leave.

"Wait," she Said.  "With all this, I forgot to tell you.  Brian Wilson
called me this morning.  You remember, he's the computer expert I was
telling you about.  He went digging through ten years' worth of
unsolved child-abduction cases, and he found three that he thought
might be connected to Annie's and Sara Parker's disappearances."

That stopped him faster than anything else she could have said.  "This
guy did what?"

"He found three other cases."  "When?"  Drew said.

"I called him yesterday morningi~He's been working on it all day and
all night.  Why?  What's wrong?"

Drew shook his head.  ~ "I drove to the FBI office in Danville this
morning to get on a secured line.  I asked one of our data specialists
to look through what we pulled from the computer banks when Sara Parker
was kidnapped.  He's searching for the same kind of information.  I
just don't understand how your friend could have accessed these
resources so quickly.y

"We have our owns data banks, and we're linked to information
clearinghouses maintained by each state."

"And what did this guy find out?"

"Three cases of missing girls, starting S'LX years ago.  One was near
Louisville, one in Cincinnati and one near Fort Wayne."

He thought about the information for a minute, she could see the
possibilities churning in his mind.  "Picture that in your mind," he
told her.  Louisville, Cincinnati,

,auy ~yter ~ayes ~ov

Fort Wayne, and where Sara was taken from, outside Chicago.  "

"What?"  'she said.

"Come here and look at this."

He started walking toward his car--a dark brown sedan, no doubt
something the government furnished him with.  He opened the door and
pulled an oversize book from the passenger side, a road atlas.  He
flipped it open to a map of the whole country, then, with a pen he'd
taken from his pocket, made some dots on the cities they'd been talking
about.  He held up the marked map for her to see.

"It makes half of a circle," he said.  "And look what's in the center
of that circle.  Or at least near the center.  Hope, Illinois."

Carollm went cold all over, and it had nothing to do with the
temperature outside.  She felt her stomach flip-flop inside her, and
she thought for a moment she might be sick.  She knew what was
coming.

"He's right here, Carolyn.  Or somewhere close by.  He's been here the
whole time, and we're going to find him,"

Chapter 12

Carolyn didn't want to believe it, but the logic in it told her it was
true.  ~The man was probably right here--if not in Hope, at least
within twenty or thirty miles of town.

It was so clear, once Drew plotted it on the map.  Child molesters
didn't just snatch one kid.  That wasn't enough for them.  In fact, as
grim and as difficult as it was to believe, child molesters on average
had more than a hundred v)etims before they were ever caught.  So
whoever had taken Annie had probably taken other children, as well.

Drew showed Carolyn the pattern, not only the locations where the
children were taken, but the timing of the disappearances.  Annie's ten
years ago.  Another six years ago, then one three years ago, then one a
year and a half ago.  Now Sara Parker.  Either the man was getting more
confident of his ability to get away with it, or whatever urges drove
him on were getting stronger, because he was waiting less and less time
between abductions.  And that fit with what they knew about the kind of
person who grabbed little kids off the streets.  They grew more
desperate as time went on and had less and less control over.  their
urges.

She and Drew-walked around downtown until they found a fax machine they
could use, then called her friend Brian at Hope House and had him fax
the most pertinent information on the other missing girls, so that Drew
could have it right away.

He called the FBI office in Chicago and had ~omeone there pick up the
information from Brian and crosscheck it with the FBI's own files.  As
big and as powerful as the FBI was, it was woefully behind in its
efforts in computefization, and that was one place where Carolyn's
organization could help.

As she and Drew sat in the back corner booth at the local coffee shop,
scanning the records, he pointed out to her one other reason he
believed the man who took Annie was nearby.  The man had been careful.
Before Sara Parker's disappearance, he'd snatched children from three
different states--Illinois, Kentucky and Ohio--but still from within a
relatively small area.

Drew thought he'd done that so that he didn't have to travel any
farther than necessary with the children, because he was coming from
somewhere nearby, either in-Indiana or in Illinois.  He'd wanted to
cross state lines because, with children missing-from four different
states, it meant that initially four different state law-enforcement
agencies, plus local sheriff's or city police departments, were looking
for him.

Criminals were smart.  enough ~to know how piecemeal crime-fighting
efforts could be.  They knew, for instance, that they could use the
same method of Operation for a crime in one town, then the same one in
three or four other towns or counties around it.  Most likely, it would
be a while before four separate law-enforcement agencies caught on to
the fact that they were chasing the same~ crook.

"I can't believe he's been somewhere around here the whole time," she
said.  "What do we do now?"

Drew put down his cup of coffee.  "We go over every bit of paperwork we
can find on the cases, interview the people involved all over again,
then try to find something that links these five kids together.  Find
out what they could have in common that would have brought this man
into their lives.  Then we find the bastard."

And then what?  she wanted to add.  What happens once you do find him?
But she wasn't sure she was up to hearing the answer.

"I need to go," he said.  "We've still got people wandering around in
the woods near the place where Sara Parker was found, and one of them
is my boss.  I need to check in with him and tell him what we've
found."

He stood up, but she didn't.  "I think I'll have another cup of coffee,
and then I have to check in with my aunt and make sure my mother's all
right."

"She, s home from the hospital," he stated.  Carolyn nodded.  "Since
yesterday afternoon."

"She knows I'm here about Annie?"  "And that you know about Billy."

He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table.  "I don't know what
you can tell her."

She didn't even look at him then.  She couldn't.  Not two days ago,
he'd been telling her how much he'd missed her, how he wished he'd
never left her.  Last night .  he thought last night was nothing but a
mig take that loving her didn't change anything.  So she didn't even
look at him now.  She couldn't.

"Carolyn," he said.  "I know your mother's worried, and she's probably
looking for some kind of answers.  But I'm looking for them, too, and I
haven't come up with any yet.  So she'll just have to wait."

"The doctors..."  Carolyn began.  "They're worried about her emotional
state right now."  173

"And what about Billy?  Grace is mothering our son, too.  And as far as
he's concerned, his father died six months ago, and she's all he's got
left.  Have you thought about that?"

"How do you think that makes him feel?"  Drew asked.  "I saw him after
Grace collapsed, and he was scared to death.  He thought he was going
to lose her, and he didn't think he'd have anyone else to take care of
him if that happened."

"I talked with him.  I told him he'd have me, and he understands."

"But he doesn't knorr he'd still have his real mother and father. Maybe
he needs to know~ Have you ever thought about it that way?"

"Yes, I have."  She tried to keep her voice down, but it was difficult.
She knew very well what he was getting at.  "I've thought about it a
lot since my father died, and even more so since my mother was taken to
the hospital.  But what can I do?  Billy thinks she's him mother, and
I've trained myself to think of her that way, too.  I can't just ask
her to give him back to me."

Drew kept silent.

"Please sit down, Drew.  Just for a minute."  Even though they'd been
quiet, they were attracting more attention than she'd have liked.  And
she had to make him understand this one point, at least.

He had his back to the rest of the place, but now he turned and looked
around.  P~people quickly turned away, but it was clear that they had
been the center of attention.  Carolyn felt her checks burn at the
idea.  Soon the whole town would know that she and Drew had been
arguing over coffee this morning.

"Let's get out of here," he offered.

Carolyn thought it a much better suggestion than hers.  She grabbed her
purse while he threw a dollar on the table for the waitress, then
hurried to the door, trying not to meet anyone's eyes as they left.

On the street, she didn't know where to turn.  She couldn't take him to
her mother's house, because there was no telling what Grace would say
to him.  And she wasn't going back to his room at the
bed-and-breakfast, not after last night.

"In the car," he said, a hand on her back guiding her to it.  He opened
the passenger door and urged her inside.  He moved to the other side
and got in, as well.  Carolyn could almost feel Drew's warmth as he sat
beside her.

This was impossible.  And, unfortunately for her, this was what her
life had become--one impossible situation after another.

They drove for almost fifteen minutes, ending up at one of their old
hideouts, a deserted country road that came to a dead end at the
river.

"Sorry," he said.  "I didn't know where else to go."  She couldn't have
begun to count the number of times they'd either sat near the shore or
sat here in a car, watching the water rushing by.  Sometimes, she would
wish they could just jump in and let the current take them
some-where--anywhere except thi.  ~ impossible town, where they~
wouldn't have to face her parents' disapproval of Drew, where no one
knew his father was a bad-tempered drunk or judged Drew based solely on
that fact.

"Okay."  He put the car in park and pulled the emergency brake.  on,
but left the motor running.  It was getting colder by the minute. "Tell
me whatever you think you have to tell me about your mother and our
son."

"He's not ours anymore."  She figured that was as good a place to start
as any.  She could have come at it from a much less confrontational
position, but they would have ended up at this point sooner or later,
anyway.  And he'd given her the perfect opening.

"All right," he said.  "If you want to look at it that way, he never
was our son."

She chose to ignore that and focus on what she had to say.  "I mean, my
mother's raised him from the time he came home from the hospital, when
he was three days old, and I can't just go to her and tell her I want
Billy back, like he was some piece of property that belonged to me.
He's a little boy, and he loves her.  She's the only mother he's ever
known."

Drew tensed beside her.  She could tell that he was working hard not to
let this turn into a full-blown argument.

"Believe me," he said, "I understand that all too well.  But you can't
ask me to walk away and never see him again, never even know where he
is or what he's doing or how he looks.  You can't ask me to do that."

So there they were at another standoff.  Carolyn wondered what she
could do to make this situation better without hurting anyone.  And it
was clear that she couldn't.  Either way, someone was going to be
hurt.

She wanted out of the car, away from Drew,just for a moment.  She was
getting ready to go when his hand touched her arm, just enough to get
her attention, then withdrew.  Carolyn looked up into his face, saw his
guished expression, saw what could only be tears in his beautiful brown
eyes.

"How could you give him up?"  he asked.

In an instant, she was shaking.  Tears filled her own eyes, and she had
to hold her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out,

He hadn't asked in anger, hadn't accused her of anything.  Maybe she
could have handled either of those easier than his calmly voiced
question.

"Make me understand that," he said huskily.  "Because I need to
understand.  How in the world could you give him up?"

She swallowed hard and took her hand away.  Somewhere deep inside, the
door she'd forced shut years ago, the one that protected the most
vulnerable part of her, was opening again.  The pain she'd stored there
was as fresh and as strong as it had been that day she first held Billy
in her arms, the day she said her goodbyes to him and handed him over
to her mother.  She'd known she could never go back on that decision,
that once it was made, she couldn't second-guess herself or try to.
change the situation.

She'd held that pain inside all these years, only to have him ask her
to unleash it again.  True, she owed him that much.  But still, the
pain was staggering.

Where could She start?  How could she explain?  How would he
understand, when she couldn't herself?

"I ... I knew you weren't coming back.  I knew how much you wanted to
get out of this town, and I didn't think I'd'

ever see you again.  "

She risked one quick glance at his face.  He'd lowered his eyes,
shielding them from view, and she decided to do the same.  It was
easier not to look at him and see how much this hurt him, as well.

"I didn't even suspect I was pregnant for a long time, because... we
were careful."  She'd been on the Pill since right after their first
time together.  "But after Annie died, everything got crazy.  I was so
torn up.  I had trouble keeping anything in my stomach for a few weeks,
and I didn't even realize that if the food was coming back up, the
pills were, too.  And I didn't think..

"You couldn't stand to have me touch you anymore," he finished for
her.

"No, Drew, it was never that."

"It was that last time, wasn't it?  Right before I left.  I thought ...
I thought then we had a chance.  We finally got to be together again,
and then afterward... I don't know, Carolyn.  What happened
afterward?"

She'd just fallen apart.  She?  d cried until she thought she'd never
he able to stop.  She'd felt guilty about evep.  bit of pleasure she'd
found with him when her sister was out there somewhere, God-knew-what
happening to her, The guilt had just been too much.

"I thought about Annie," she told him.  "I thought that if I hadn't
wanted so much to be with you that day, then Annie wouldn't have
disappeared.  I thought it was my fault, and that made it even worse,
making love with you, when she was gone.

"I know it's not logical," she rushed from "But that's how I felt.  I
thought I deserved to lose you.  That I had no right to be happy with
you, when that's what made us lose Annie.  In a way, I thought I
deserved to lose you, and to lose Billy, too."

"Aw, Carolyn..."  he said.

"I did," she admitted.  "And I was so scared to keep him.  I thought
that if I ever loved him, the way I'd loved Annie, and then lost him...
How would I have handled that?  I was scared to love him, Drew.  I cut.
myself off from him and my whole family, went to school at
Northwest-era, and tried to pretend I hadn't left anything behind when
I went to Chicago.  I tried so hard not to think about him, not to see
him, not to even look at the pictun~s of him that my mother sent.

"But I couldn't do that.  I loved him from the very beginning, the
first time I looked into that beautiful little face of his and saw so
much of you there.  It was so hard to look at him and see you and think
about how much we'd lost."

She stopped for a minute to stare out the window at the water rushing
by, and to think through the barrage of emotions this had set loose
inside-her.  She wanted Drew to understand.

"I wanted him so badly," she said.  "But at the same time, I was
frightened of the responsibility.  Someone had to keep him safe and
happy, and I didn't think I could do that.  After all, look what
happened to Annie.

"But I couldn't let him totally go, either.  I thought about adoption
with some couple I'd never seen and would never know, but I couldn't
bring myself to do that.  It would have been too much like losing

"And then my mother started talking about having a baby in the house
again.  She was scared, too, but ... it sort of brought her ba~k to
life again.  She had a reason to go on, and she wanted him so badly.

"It seemed like the perfect solution for all of us.  I'd still get to
see him.  I could watch him grow up, and I'd always know that he was
all right.  And he's been happy here, Drew.  My parents have done more
to provide a good home for him than I ever could have."

She waited for some reaction from him, but he said nothing.  There was
nothing left to do to explain away what she'd done, except.  "Drew, I
was seventeen years old, and I did the best thing I knew to do.  You
have to understand that."

He didn't say anything, and she was scared to even look at him, so she
just kept talking.  "I knew almost right away that I'd made a mistake
in giving him up."

"Then why did you go through with it?"  he asked.

"I knew it was a mistake for me--not for him.  I think he had as much
love and as much joy and security as a little boy could have.  And I
had to think about what was best for him, not what I wanted for
myself."

"But it's different now," he said.  "Your father's gone.  Your
mother... Can you imagine what it will do to her if we find Annie's
body?  Have you thought about that?  And if anything happens to her,
Billy's whole world falls apart.  What about that?"

"I don't know.  I don't have any answers.  If I did, I would have told
you.  I'm worried.  I have been ever since my father died.  And I've
tried to talk to my mother about it, but she won't listen.  All we've
done is argue about Billy.  It got so bad a couple of months ago that
she asked me to stay away until I got over this."

Of course, she hadn't gotten over the need to be with her son, any more
than Drew ever would.

And now he'd always blame her, or at least resent her, for what had
happened.  She could see that all too clearly.

That was the reason his loving her didn't solve anything.  All it did
was make this situation more difficult for both of them.

"I guess it is hopeless, after all," she said.

He didn't argue with her.  They sat there in the car, watching the
water roll by, and they didn't say anything.  Finally, he backed up the
car and headed for town.

Drew stood by the window of his room at the bed-and-breakfast watching
the small downtown area empty of people as they left their jobs and
made their way home.  It was shortly after five o'clock and this late
in the fall, the sky was starting to get dark earlier.  Already the
light was half-gone.

He turned away from the window for a moment, his eyes falling
carelessly across the loom, stumbling over the sight of the bed.

He didn't see how he could spend another night in this room, in that
bed, in the same town with Carolyn, and yet not with her.  He couldn't
help but smile at the irony of how he'd wanted to leave his impression
on her the night before, to reach down to her soul and mark her forever
as his.  Yet he'd done just the opposite.  He'd forever imprinted the
feel and the taste and the smell of her on his brain.

He'd taken the ten-year-old memories of a teenage boy, ones he'd tried
so hard over the years to dismiss as adolescent fantasies that couldn't
possibly have been as good as he remembered, and replaced them with the
all-too-clear experiences of a man.  The man who'd been obsessed with
his recollections of a teenage girl for a decade now knew her as a
woman, a beautiful, vulnerable, sensual woman.

She had branded him for life.  He didn't have a chance in hell of
forgetting her now.  And he didn't see how he could ever have her.

If anything, the situation was getting worse.  He saw nothing but the
hopelessness of it now.  They were going to clash over Billy sometime
in the very near future, maybe forever.  He didn't see how they could
ever resolve the situation without ruining any chance they had of
happiness.

Because he would not walk away from his son, and that was what she
wanted him to do.  He was sure that was what her mother wanted him to
do, and he could see Carolyn caught in the middle.  If her mother
wanted to, she could poison Billy's mind against the two of them.  Drew
wasn't sure the woman was vindictive enough to do that, but it was
possible.

After all, she was the person Billy knew and trusted above all others.
If he asked Carolyn to take his side against her mother, "he he asking
her to risk losing what contact she had now with Billy.  She'd never do
that.

He could fight, in court, if he chose.  He probably had some sort of
legal tight to the boy, but he wanted more than a piece of paper and
some court-ordered visitation.  " He wanted Billy to know him and trust
him, to depend upon him.  He wanted his son.

No court could give him that, and he would never put Billy through the
fight.

So they were at an impasse, He had no idea what to do.  And he missed
Carolyn already.

As always when he couldn't do anything else, Drew worked.  It steadied
him.  It challenged him.  It gave him an outlet for his energy, and
something to occupy his mind.

He started searching through the faxed documents he'd received from
Hope House and read summa ties on the three missing girls.

It was possible, he decided, that these might be linked to Sara
Parker's kidnapping--and to Annie's.  He would have to wait until
tomorrow to review all the documents, but it did seem possible.

He had to find a common link.  What had connected the five little
girls?  If they'd all been taken by the same man, how had he come
across them?

What could these five little girls have had in common?  His ruminations
were interrupted by the ringing of the phone.  He grabbed the receiver,
his mind still looking for a connection between the girls, and answered
absently, "Drew Delaney."

"Mr.  Delaney?"  a woman's voice asked tentatively.  "This is Jill
Parker... Sara's mother?"

"Yes," he said.  The poor woman still sounded shellshocked at all that
had happened to her and her child.

"You said to call... if Sara remembered anything... or if anything out
of the ordinary happened."

"Well, I wasn't sure if I should bother you.  I mean, I'm not sure if
it's important or not, but... Sara was just so upset today."

"It's no bother at all, Mrs.  Parker," he said, his instincts telling
him something significant had occurred.  Maybe he was about to get a
break for a change.  "What happened to upset her?"

"She went back to school today.  We weren't sure if she should go so
soon, but the psyehiattist told us to try to make things as normal as
possible for her.  And it was class-picture day.  We didn't want her'
to miss getting her picture taken with her classmates."

"Go on," Drew urged, the adrenaline starting to rush through his
veins.

'

"She, uh... I don't know how else to put it--she just fell apart.  Her
class got in front of the camera, and the flash went off, and she just
started screaming."

"Why?"  he asked.  "Did someone say something to her?  Did she see
someone she recognized?"

"I'm not sure.  I stayed with her at school the first thirty minutes or
so, and when she seemed fine, I left.  So I wasn't there when it
happened, and it took us forever to get her calmed down enough for 'her
to talk about it."

"What did her teacher say?  She was fine until the flash went off?  Or
was she edgy before that?"

"I'm not sure," Mrs.  Parker replied.  "Think about it.  It's
important."

He thought back himself to when he'd arrived in Pritchard, Indiana.
When he first saw Sara Parker, she'd been agitated, nervous,
frightened, but quiet and composed.  He'd thought at first it was
shock, but after spending a couple of hours with her, trying to
question her and waiting for her parents to arrive, he'd seen how much
control the little girl had.  She was one tough kid.

If she'd ended up screaming her head off at school, there was a
reason.

And he would find the reason, because it could lead him to Sara's
kidnapper--and Annie's.

"Think, Mrs.  Parker.  The man is still out there where, and we have to
find him.  Was she all right classroom this morning, after you left?"

"Yes.  Her teacher said she was a little quiet,

wise fine.  "

"Why'don't you give me the teacher's name?"

"And her phone number, if you have it."

"Of course, if you think it's important."

"I -definitely think it's important.  How's

"She didn't move from my side all afternoon.  asleep on the couch
beside me right now."

Mrs.  Parker gave him the teacher's name and number, and Drew assured
her that she'd done the right thing by calling him.  He told her that
someone from the Bureau, and probably the psychiatrist who'd spoken
with Sara before, would be returning to talk to her regarding the
incident at school.

Impatient, he made a series of calls to make sure that happened, then
got Sara's teacher on the phone.  Someone else would most likely cover
the same ground with her tomorrow, but he wasn't willing to wait that
long.  The woman was still shaken from what had happened that morning
with Sara.

"Think carefully," he told her.  "When did Sara start to get upset?"

"She screamed when the flash went off."

"And before that?"

"Well ... now that you mention it, she wasn't sure if she wanted to
have her picture taken'.  When she saw the camera, she held back a
little, then came and stood by me.  I told her she could be beside me
in the picture, and that seemed to help.  But when the photographer
turned up the lights, that scared her, too.  And then after that, when
the flash went off, ghe was absolutely hysterical."

Drew took a moment to digest this information.  He'd taken Sara's
picture himself with an old Polaroid, right after he got to her that
day.  She'd definitely been upset when he photographed her, but he'd
thought it was simpler a delayed reaction, considering all she'd been
through.

~And now she'd done the same thing when someone else took her
picture.

"Did she shy away from the photographer?"  he asked.  "I don't know. I
don't believe she got that close to him.  It was a group picture, and
there are twenty-two children in the class."

"Who was the photographer?"

"I don't know his name.  It was one of those school photography
companies.  They come to school every year in the fall."

"Sara was at your school last year?"

Yes, she said.

"The same man came this year who took your school pictures last
year?"

"I'm not sure, but it was the same company.  It has some cutesy name,
with a phonetic spelling.  It's probably on the back of my copy of last
year's class picture."

"Could you g~t it for me?"  he asked.  "Of course.  Just a minute."

It couldn't be that simple, he thought.  A photographer would be in
constant contact with children, and if he worked for a company that
kept him on the

~. g groups of schoolchildren g road, shootk~ds each year.  , -~ u oe
arouna thousands of Of course, if the man had just Snatched Sara Parker
last week, he'd be a feel to come to her school today and take her
picture again.  Not that some criminals weren't fools, Drew reminded
himself.  But this didn't sound right to hhn--the guy coming back so
SOon.  He would have known Sara went to school there.  The odds were
overwhelmingly against the man having picked her at random off the
street.  More than likely, he'd followed her, stalked her, before he
grabbed her.

Still, his instincts told him this was important, that this was what
would lead him to Sara Parker's kidnapper, and to Annie's.  "Mr.
Delaney," the teacher said.  "I have last year's photo right here.  It
was taken by a company called School

"Is there an address?"  "Chicago, Illinois.  That's all."

He thanked the woman, assured her that she had kn very helpful' and
mad~ rash promises that he would d~ nitely find the man who'd taken
little Sara Parker.  Then was dang Chicago ~l.  nfo ,r~natl  o. n. They
had hundreds agents in the city, and the she too nave sent one of them
this company in vet son but he couldn't wait that l1ong.  Besides, it
was near/Y sLx, and there was no way he x going to wait until the place
opened for business again morrow.

He was ready to bar~g his head against the wall when got an answering
machine telling him School P/x had deed already closed.

Drew sat down and thought about what he'd learned didn't seem rational
that the same man would abduc little girl one week and show up at her
school the next  photograph her.  Besides, if he'd been there to take i
picture, where had he come into contact with her here: When he'd taken
pictures the year before?  Drew s~ posed it was possible.

On the other ha~d, what if it wasn't that part icu photographer who'd
frightened Sara today?  Her teac] said she'd freaked afWr the flashbulb
went off, and tl she'd seemed edgy from~ the time the class got to the
re with the camera and the fights.

What if Sara had been upset not by that man in par, ular, but rather by
the fact that he was a photographer'

Or simply becaus~ 1'~ wanted to take her picture?  Ai
all~e'dgottenups~t when Drew took her picture, tother explanatio~ had
possibilities.  If the kidnapj just happened to b~ someone who got off
by taking ~ pictures of little kids /~c snatched from the streets, D~
had a long way to go.  But if his man was a professio photographer, one
who happened to take pictures thousands of kids ave.  ar when he
v/sited their schools, Drew was on to something He had a real lead, a
fighting chance.  Maybe his promise about finding Sara Parker's
kidnapper hadn't been so rash, after all.

He started pacing the room then.  At one point, he happened to glance
out the window and across the street, to the school Billy attended, the
same one Annie had gone to.  Right next door to it was the junior high
she'd attended.  He wondered who'd taken her picture when she was
there.

Drew was out the door in seconds.  It was almost six, probably too late
to get into the building, but there were still a few cars in the
school's parking lot.

He found one of the doors at the junior high's main entrance still
open, followed the signs directing him to the office.  Luck was with
him.  A woman was still inside.

Drew introduced himself, and discovered she was the principal.  He told
her he was with the Bureau and showed her his credentials.

"I just need a moment of your time," he promised her when she informed
him she was just about to leave.  "Someone comes into the school every
year to photograph the children?"

"Yes," she said.  She was a matronly-looking woman in her fifties with
salt and-pepper hair.

~"What's the name of the company?"  he asked, having trouble getting
out the words.  This case meant too much to him, and he shouldn't be
working on it.  An agent needed a. clear head to do his job, and this
kind of emotional attachment only interfered with that.  No way should
he he working this one.  No way was he going to let it go.

"Off the top of my head, I'm not sure," the woman said.  "I could check
for you."

"School Pix?"  he asked.  "Does that sound familiar?"  "Oh, yes," she
replied.  "We've used them for years:" It might not mean anything, he
told himself.  If the company did indeed do bus' mess all over the
Midwest, then it wouldn't be all that surprising to find that all the
little girls on his list had had their picture taken by that same
company at one time or another.  Still, it was the only link he had so
far.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"  the woman said.

"I'm sorry."  He'd been lost in thought.  "Do you know how long you've
done business with that company?  Would they have been coming here ten
or eleven years ago?"

"Maybe," the woman said.  "I've only been the principal here for six,
and I think we've been using them the whole time I've been here.  I
could have someone check for you, in the morning.  Honestly, I wouldn't
know where to begin to look up that information."

He was disappointed for a moment.  Then he remembered.  There was a
much simpler way for him to check this out, and an agent always had to
remember to take the simplest, 'quickest path to the information he
needed.

He remembered sitting in Carolyn's childhood home, with those pictures
of their son on the walls--and next to them, what he'd bet were school
~pictures' of Annie.

Chapter 13

He hadn't expected it to take a confrontation with Grace McKay to get
him inside the door that evening.  Maybe he'd been hoping for one,
eventually, but he hadn't visualized dealing with her so soon--not at
that moment, when h~is mind was racing ninety miles a minute with' all
the things he needed to do to check out his lead.

Mrs.  McKay opened the do.  or, looking much better than when he'd seen
her in the hospital the day before--looking, in fact, like a woman
ready to do battle.

He didn't even get the first word out of his mouth before she came at
him.  With a look that could have turned water to ice, she told him,
"You're not welcome in this house."

From behind her, he heard Carolyn telling her mother to stay put, that
she'd get the door.  She'd find out soon enough that it was too late.

And then he heard Billy calling to her.  Was the boy coming to the
door, as well?

Drew didn't know, and he couldn't risk that.  He was mad enough about
the injustices of ten long years to grab Grace McKay by the arm, pull
her out the door and close it behind her.

"Don't you dare," he said to her, his manner as menacing as any he'd
used on crooks from coast to coast.  "Don't you dare try to make my son
think I'm not welcome here, or that he has any reason to be afraid of
me or to dislike me."

"You are not"

"Don't you dare."

She glared at him, and he glared right back.  This woman who, from the
start, had never liked him.  This woman who had judged-him solely on
the fact that his father was a loud, no-good drunk, who had once, in
the midst of the madness after Annie disappeared, pointed her finger at
him and told him and half the town that it was all his fault.

He had never come so close to wanting to hit a woman.  Never.  He
didn't even like admitting that ugly truth to himself, didn't like
seeing how low he'd sunk in the midst of this mess.  But he would not
allow he rto poison Billy's mind against him.  That was his bottom
line, and she was going to have to live with it.

As for Grace McKay, she seemed to have been running on bravado alone.
He watched as it all deserted her, leaving her once again looking older
than her forty-seven years, more tired than he remembered, more
vulnerable.

He had the impression then that she wasn't the monster he liked to
paint her as, that she was nothingbuta mother who, long ago, had lost
the most precious thing a parent has to lose--her child.

And that, for now, she was doing what any mother would do--fiercely
trying to protect another child.  He couldn't fault her for that
instinct, and he felt more than a little ashamed of himself for coming
on like a steamroller.  And he had to admit that he'd want the mother
of his child to react in just this way if anyone ever threatened that
child.

Clearly, she saw him as a threat.  That was what he had to change.
Raving at her like a madman wasn't going to do him any good at all.

"Look," he said, backing up a step or two, "I'm not going to hurt
him."

He would have gone over the whole thing with her--the whole
directionless mishmash of feelings threatening to choke him at any
moment--but he was certain it was pointless.  He was sum.  Carolyn had
told her everything already, and he doubted the woman would believe
anything he said, anyway.

"I'm not even here about Billy right now," he said.  Surely that was
something Grace McKay could understand.  "It's about Annie."

Quickly, remembering what had happened the last time he told her that,
he braced himself to catch her in case she swooned.  But the woman
stood her ground.  She was a shade paler in the glow of the porch
light, and she froze for a moment, but then she nodded as she tried to
take in the news.

-~- She didn't say anything, didn't ask anything.  He didn't see the
point in making any explanations at this point.  Most likely, she
didn't want to know the details.  And maybe that was for the best,
given what he knew about the woman's emotional state.

"I just need to see some of your old pictures of her," he said. "That's
all."

Her eyes dropped to the floor, and then she hung her head and brushed a
hand across her cheeks.  When she looked up at him again, she was
composed, almost resigned.

"Come inside.  I'll get them."

She pulled the door open and left him to follow her inside.  He stood
in the entranceway, feeling as awkward as he had the first time he came
to pick up Carolyn for a date.

Grace McKay walked to the doorway that led to the kitchen, and he heard
her asking Billy to go to the next-door neighbor's and get some eggs
the woman had promised to lend them.

Carolyn stood in the hallway to the right, watching them, not saying a
word.

The back door closed with a thud.  Mrs.  McKay turned to him.  "Billy
doesn't need to hear this," she said, and he couldn't argue with
that.

"What is it?"  Carolyn asked.

"It's about Annie."  He rushed on when he realized that would be just
as upsetting to her as the thought of him coming here about Billy.  "I
just need to check out some-thing--some old pictures."

"What kind?"  her mother said.

"School pictures, the latest ones you have that were taken at her
school."

Carolyn walked across the room to him.  "You found something."

"Maybe.  I'll know in a minute."

Her mother returned with a gold-framed photo of a beautiful
blond-haired child.  "This was taken in the fall, about nine months
before she disappeared."

Drew pulled the cardboard backing off it and carefully extracted the
photo from the frame.  The light in the hallway was weak, and the print
on the back was faint with age.

He walked farther into the room and held it under the light of the
lamp.  It was faint, but it was there.

School Pix.

He'd been an agent for four years now, he'd done six years in the army
before that, and he'd seen things that

Our Chad?

horrified him.  But he'd never had such an emotional reaction to a
piece of evidence before.

It sent chills through him, and waves of revulsion and nausea, as well.
He didn't want to touch the photo, didn't want to turn it over and see
Annie's smiling face, didn't want to think about what this monster had
done to her.

He had the definite impression of evil encompassed in this mix of paper
and chemicals that he held in his hand.  He could feel its presence, as
clearly as he'd felt the cold air outside.

He'd found something.  Every instinct he possessed told him so.  But
could he stand to follow this lead where it took him?  He'd known from
the start of this that there wouldn't be a happy ending for Annie.  Not
after ten years,

And he wasn't sure what he'd hoped to accomplish in taking this on. 
Oh, there was the job, and it was important to him.  There was the need
to get this pervert off the streets.  But surely he'd been looking to
ease something within himself, as well, and to give something back to
Carolyn and her family.

He wanted to bring Annie hack to them.  He wanted to absolve himself of
some of that irrational guilt he'd car-tied around all these years.  He
wanted this to be his gift to the McKays, wanted it to buy him
something precious and rare--another chance with Carolyn.  And, now, a
chance with Billy, as well.

But now that the moment was right here--the beginning of the end of the
mystery of Annie McKay's disappearance, for he was sure it was within
his reach--he didn't see what finding Annie's body would accomplish
now.

He could only imagine what it would cost them all, the pain it would
bring back, the anguish of likely finding out in grim detail exactly
how she'd died.

Why?  he thought.  Why had he started this in the first place?

"What is it, Drew?"  Carolyn asked.

He dropped the picture, and the revulsion that he'd felt, that
sickening impression of pure evil, began to dissipate.  "It may be
nothing," he cautioned.  "Maybe just coincidence."

"You don't believe that," Mrs.  McKay said, coming to stand beside
Carolyn.

"It's the photo company--this one that specializes in school photos.
The same company that took that photo of Annie also took one of Sara
Parker."

He watched as the two women moved closer together, as Carolyn put her
arm around her mother.  Maybe the rift between them wasn't as big as
she'd feared.  Or maybe this would bring them closer again.

"It may be nothing," he repeated.  "Supposedly this company takes
photos all over the Midwest."

"What are you going to do now?"  Carolyn asked.  "I'm going to Chicago
in the morning, to see if they photographed any of those missing girls
who showed up on the search your friend did for us."

He thought about all the other things that the three of them needed to
say to one another, thought about how impossible it still seemed to be,
then became even more determined to stick to business.  For now, he had
to.  It just might be the thing that kept him sane.

"I have to go," he said, before he could change his mind.  "I'll let
you know as soon as I find out anything."  And then he turned around
and left.

He was just letting down his guard, letting the fatigue get to him,
letting the adrenaline run down, when he stepped onto the front porch
and found Billy heading up the steps.

"Ah, dammit.  :."  he muttered in an aside.  Not tonight.  Not now.
He'd been through too much already.

"Hi," the boy said hesitantly, then smiled tentatively.

This close to him now, Drew saw in an instant what he couldn't-believe
he'd missed earlier.  The shape of his face,

the jawline in particular, the ~, ~en th~ was he wal~--t~ ~d w~ ~ a~
~er aga~.  It was ~g ~

hadn't ~ it ~fo~, ~ if he hadn't ~n l~ng.  "Hey, Billy," he said,
"whatcha doing?"

"I had to go get some cg~ from n~t d~r."  He ~ld ~ up for D~ to ~, ~en
stud t~e w~ting--for what, D~w couldn't ~agi~.

"I just had to ~lk to your mother for a minus," he said.

"About ~me?"

Billy smiled then.  "C~ol~ ~d you're gonna f~d ~."

"I'm l~king for her."  He wasn't gWmg to s~ ma~g this ~d prom~ he
couldn't k~.

"Heaven?"  he said.  "'Cause my mama says she's in heaven wi~ my dad. 
~d we ~n't go t~e.  Not yet.  So I don't ~ow how you can look for her. 
If she's ~ h~v~."

Oh, g~t, ~ thought.  His first real conversation with ~s ~n, and the
~dwan~ to ~ate p~losophy ~d logic with h~.  He didn't stand a chan~.

D~w shook his h~d, f~ng at a to~ loss as to how to han~e the situation.
"We just w~t to f~d out for suw what hap~n~ to her when she ~p~."

Billy noddY, l~g a Little sad, a Little lost, ~ing to ~ w~g for s~g
from ~ that ~ di~'t ~ un&rst~d.

~ ~ while, D~ w~ bat~g ~ ~ff.  Mo~ ~ ~y~ing, he wanted to hold ~is
Little boy ~ his a~s and promi~ to k~ W~ safe from anything ~d ~e~t~g
that would ever t~ to hug him.

It was such a c~ d~n~ world ~ days, ~i~ly if you were a ~d.  He was
~n~g to unde~tand ~e cno~ of ~at ~k--k~g ~ ~fe--and to ~ what Carolyn
had m~nt about wowing over t~ sta~efing ~ponsibility of making sure~
Billy was in~ safe.

Surely that would have seared him to death ten years ago; it frightened
him even today, when the responsibility wasn't his, but Carolyn's and
her mother's.

Billy, he wondered, what in the world is going to happen to us?

"Drew?"  the kid asked.

"Are you g~ing to catch the man who took her?"

"Yes."  He had more reason now to do that than he'd ever had before. He
had a child of his own to keep safe.

"Carolyn said you catch all sorts of bad guys."  Billy seemed to like
that idea.  "Do you have a gun?  A real one?"

Drew actually laughed then.  He'd never thought he'd resort to using
the fact that he carried a weapon to impress a child.

"Billy," Carolyn said from behind him.  Drew hadn't even known she was
there.  "That's enough for tonight.  And we need those eggs in the
kitchen."

Billy turned back to Drew.  "Will you show it to me someday?"

"Someday," he promised.

"Cool."  Herheaded for the door.

"Careful of the eggs," Carolyn said, holding the door open for him.

Drew watched him disappear into the kitchen, hating to see the little
guy go.  He was hungry for the sight of him and the sound of his voice.
He had years to catch up on.

"He likes you," Carolyn said, and he wondered if she knew how much he
needed to believe that.

"Because I carry a gun and chase bad guys?"

"No, he liked you before he even knew that."  She folded her arms in
front of her in a vain effort to ward off the cold.

"I want more than that," he said, fighting the urge to draw her against
him and let her warm herself with his body heat.

"So do I," she replied.

Did she think she wasn't going to get it?  Was that the message?  That
he wasn't the only one unhappy with this situation?  He thought again
about how pointless arguing about this was, how pointless it was to
yearn for things he couldn't have.  It hadn't been twenty-four hours
since he and Carolyn had been together, finally, after all this time.
Less than a day since that all-consuming need had driven him on to have
her, blinding him to all t. l~ reasons he should resist her.  And that
had only mad~ things even more complicated than they already were.

It had made it nearly impossible just to be here with her in the
darkness and the semi privacy of the porch and not take her in his
arms.  It had made him more frustrated than he'd ever been in his life,
because he, who made a living solving puzzles and finding solutions to
seemingly impossible things, couldn't solve this--the thing that meant
more to him than anything.

He'd paused there at the top of the steps, and she'd stopped about five
feet away.  Even from that distance, he felt the pull that urged him
closer.  And he couldn't give in to it,

He knew too well that, barring a miracle, he would be forced to give
her up.  He didn't need one more embrace, one more kiss, one more
stolen hour of the night with Carolyn, to remind him of her.  As it
was, he'd never be able to forget her.

"I have work to do," he s~id, forcing himself away from her.  "I'll
call you tomorrow, as soon as I know at~y-thing."

And once again he turned and walked away.

Carolyn watched him go down the steps and out the front gate.  She
fought the urge to call out to him, to reach billy lyler Hayes out her
hand and hang on to him for dear life.  Once, he had been her whole
life.

And she wasn't going to lose him again.

He could go on and on about how impossible this whole mess was, about
how they'd never find a solution' that all of them could live with, one
that wouldn't hurt Billy but would still let them all take a part in
raising him.  He could throw up as many roadblocks as he could think
of, and it wouldn't matter to her.

She'd found her bottom line, and it was very (maple.  She wasn't going
to lose him again.

Her mother was waiting for her when she came inside.  Carolyn glanced
to the left, to the open doorway to the kitchen, and saw Billy sitting
at the table, talking excitedly with her Aunt Ellen.  They were making
cookies--their excuse for needing him to leave the house earlier to get
eggs from next door.  Warily Carolyn turned back to her mother.

"Is he gone?"  Grace said, in a tone that left Carolyn feeling utterly
weary.

"What do you mean, is he gone?  He's not the enemy, Mother."

"He wants to take Billy away from us," she said.  "Did he tell you
that?"  "He threatened me."

That Carolyn absolutely couldn't believe.  "How?"

"He grabbed me, pulled me outside, and told me I'd better not ever say
one word against him to Billy.  Or else."

Trouble was, Carolyn didn't think she could trust her mother not to
bad-mouth Drew to Billy.  It would be totally unfair, both to Drew and
to Billy, and her mother was normally a fair-minded woman.  But she was
scared now, and desperate.  Desperate people, especially mothers
guarding their children, would do anything.

But then, Carolyn was a mother, too.  And she, too, was guarding her
own child.

"I'm so sick of this," she said.  "I would have told you the same
thing.  You'd better not ever say anything to make Billy dislike Drew.
Not ever.  I won't let you do that.  And you know Drew won't."

Her mother backed down a fraction.  "I knew that boy would be nothing
but trouble from the minute you first brought him home.  I knew it."

Carolyn tried to hold it in.  She loved her mother' honestly she did.
And her mother loved her.  They seldom fought.  But she couldn't let
that go unanswered.

"You'd better be thankful I did bring Drew home that first time.
Otherwise, you wouldn't have a son right now.

Did you ever think of that, Mother?  "

"Carolyn"

"No," she said.  "You listen to me for a change.  You were never fair
to him, not from the start.  And it wasn't like you and Daddy to judge
people because-of where they came from or how much money their parents
made.  So I don't know why you were ever so hard on Drew, or so
unfair."

"He wasn't right for you," her mother said.

"How did you know?  And how could you know better than I did who was
right for me?"

"He was trouble right from the start."

Carolyn shook her head, the frustration eating at her, 'the unfairness
making her want to scream.  "He was good to me.  He was kind and caring
and loving.  And if he seemed a little hard-edged to you, it's because
this town, and you along with it, couldn't quite forgive him for being
his father's son."

She was burning now.  Only the fact that Billy was in the other room
kept her under some semblance of control.  "And if you're going to
judge someone by his father, and Drew's no good, then what do you think
that makes Billy?"

oauy lyter Hayes 199

"Don't be ridiculous," her mother said.  "I didn't mean that at all.  I
just... I knew he wasn't right for you.  I knew that from the start."

Carolyn figured it was hopeless then.  She might as well get this all
out in the open.  "Drew wasn't right for me?"  she said.  "That's
funny, I've been looking for someone to take his place for almost ten
years now, and in all that time, no one's come close.  I love him,
Mother.  I've missed him.  I've needed him.  I'm not going to lose him
again."

"You can't do that," her mother said.  "If the two of you get together
again, if he's always around here..."  She turned and looked back at
Billy, who was still sitting at the table.  "You can't do that to me.
Or to Billy."

"I can't give him up again, not if he'll still have me, after the way I
lied to him and the way I robbed him of his son."

Her mother looked honestly shocked.  "And you think, if the two of you
get back together again, things will change?"  she said to Carolyn.
"You think you're going to come back and take Billy away from me then?
Is that what you think?"

"No, Mother, that's not what I think at all.  But you need to undo
stand I'm not giving Drew up.  He's going to be a part of this family,
and you might as well get used to it."

"I won't," she said.  "I can't do that."

"He doesn't want to hurt Billy.  I trust him not to do that, but don't
push him.  If you make him mad enough, if you try to keep him away from
Billy, or if he finds out you've said anything to Billy about him that
makes the boy mistrust him, then I don't know what Drew will do."

Her mother looked stunned at the ugly tone this argument had taken.
Carolyn was just as surprised, just as upset.  But this argument had
been brewing for days, and all these things had to be said.  They all
had to know where they stood.

"Remember what I told you about the courts," she told her mother.
"Drew is Billy's biological father.  He has a legal right to Billy, and
if he goes to court, there's no telling what would happen."

"You said he wouldn't do that."  Her mother's voice cracked, and
Carolyn waited for the tears.

"I said I asked him not to do that, and he told me he understood that
it would only hurt Billy in the end, and be doesn't want to do that.
But if you push him, if you try to close him out of Billy's life
totally, I can't tell you what he'll do."

"And you'd take his side, against your own mother?"

"V~o said anything about taking sides?"  Carolyn asked.  "You make it
sound like you two are enemies fighting a war, and if it ends up that
way, we're all going to get hurt.  Billy most of all."

" ha " her mother said.

I won t let that ppen,

"Then you're going to have to stop thinking of Drew as the enemy.
You're going to have to accept him as a part of our lives, and you
can't growl at him every time he shows up at the door."

"I don't... I don't see how I can do that."

"You have to," Carolyn said.  "For Billy's.  sake."

Carolyn sat up late that night.  Eventually, she ended up in Annie's
old room, talking to her sister.  She held one of her favorite old
pictures of Annie in front of her, held Annie's old stuffed dog in her
lap and sat cross-legged on Annie's bed, with her back in the corner,
so that she could see the whole room.

She did this in her apartment in Chicago at times, when she was feeling
so depressed she couldn't get the words to come out.  She stared at
Annie's picture and had conversations with her LITTLE sister inside her
head.

She did believe Annie was dead, and most of the time she believed there
was more to this world than the things

~auy ~yter t~ayes people on earth could see or touch or hear.  If there
was a better place somewhere, Annie was there

Who knew?  Mayhe she was listening.  Mayhe she could help.

Drew said this whole thing was hopeless, and after talking with her
mother tonight, Carolyn knew she was being naive in thinking that it
wasn't.

She loved Drew and Billy~and her mother.  Why should it be so hard for
her to love them all?  It wasn't as if love were some finite
quantity--that once you used yours, it was all gone.  And she
understood her mother's feeling threatened by Drew and his need to be a
part of Billy's life.  Carolyn had felt threatened by that, as well.

But if love was an infinite thing, then Billy had an endless supply.
Loving Drew, letting him be a part of Billy's life, didn't have to take
anything away from the woman he believed to be his mother.  There was
plenty of time and plenty of love inside that little boy for them all
to share.

Why was that so hard for Drew and her mother to understand?  Where had
they gotten this idea that Billy could have one of them or the other,
but not both?

It didn't have to be that way at all.

She explained it all to Annie--the whole sordid mess.  And she cried'a
little bit more.

There had to be a way to convince her mother that Drew was a good
person, that he wasn't going to take anything away from them, that he'd
only add to Billy's life.

She had to find a way to do that.  She The phone rang, sounding
absurdly loud in the stillness of the house, where everyone but Carolyn
had gone to bed hours ago.

She put down the photo of Annie and jumped off the bed, running for the
nearest phone, the one in the hallway.

It was nearly eleven, and no one called here this late.

It must be Drew, she thought, and he must have some news.  Otherwise,
he wouldn't have called so late.

She managed to grab the phone in the middle of the second ring.
"Hello."

"Carolyn."

It was him.  She closed her eyes.  "Where are you?  You sound so far
away.  And what's wrong?"

He didn't ask how she knew anything was wrong, didn'~t pretend nothing
was.  "I couldn't stand to sleep on this before I found out anything
else, so I drove to Chicago.  I picked up those files your friend Brian
had from Hope House, then came into the office," he said, plunging
right in without giving her time to prepare at all.  And she needed
time to prepare for this.  "I looked over the complete files on those
other three missing kids, and they look like good leads.  So I sent
agents to see the kids' parents."

He sounded awful, his voice flat and devoid of all emotion.  She knew
the news was bad.

"They pulled their kids' pictures off the walls," he told her.  "I
can't imagine how the parents handled that."

But he could.  He'd watched her mother do the very same thing, and it
had hurt him just to watch it.  She'd seen it so clearly.  The work
that he did had to nearly kill him at times.  It was too important to
him, the children were-too important, for it not to' haunt him.

"One of them was a match," he said.  "Right there on the back of the
photo--School Pix.  But the other two hadn't ever had their pictures
taken by that company, at least not recently, while they were at
school."

"The company doesn't do anything but schools?"  Carolyn said.

"I don't know.  I still haven't talked with anyone from the company,
but apparently, from what a couple of school people told me today, it's
very specialized work.  And the other two girls had pictures from a
company called Watson's?"

"But you still have something to link Sara Parker with Annie and
another little girl who disappeared.  Donit discount the importance of
that," Carolyn said, hating to hear what this was doing to him, as well
as the rest of her family.

"It's coincidence," he said.  "I checked out these companies.  They're
huge.  Three-quarters of the schoolkids in this state had their picture
taken by one or the other in the past year, alone

She could hear his frustration So clearly, and she wished he could have
come over, instead of calling.  "That doesn't mean you're not on to
something with the photographs, Drew ?"

He paused for a minute, and she knew he had to be at least considering
what she said.  She thought about it herself.

There had to be something to this.

So what if it wasn't the same company?  "Companies changed, metgert,
expanded, bought out other companies.  People... the people staffing
them changed, as well.  ~

"Wait a minute, Drew," she said.  "Just because it wasn't the same
photo company producing the pictures, that doesn't mean the same man
didn't take all the girls' pictures."

He swore softly.  "Of course.  I can't believe I didn't see that right
away.  I don't... This thing is turning me inside out.  I can't even
think straight anymore.  I want to solve this.  I want that so bad, and
I'm not even sure why it's so important to me anymore.  But it is.,"

"I know."

And then he didn't say anything for the longest time.  She heard the
hum of the phone between them, felt as if she could hear the sound
traveling across the distance Sel>arating them, and she hated knowing
that he wasn't right down the street from her anymore.

"Well," he said self-cons~iously, "it's late.  I probably shouldn't
have called you, but..."

"I miss you, Drew."  She wasn't ashamed at all to say it.  He might not
know it yet, but he would soon--she wasn't going to give up on him
without a fight.  And he might as well get used to it.

"Carolyn, don't," he said.

She blinked back fresh tears.  "What are you going to doi tomorrow? And
when will you he back?"

"I'm going to the photography company, hopefully both of them, and find
out who took the pictures of those gkls.  After that... I don't know.
It depends on what I find .  out ."  '

"Call me when you know something?"  she said.

"Of course.  How's your mother?  I ... I forgot for a minute that she
just got out of the hospital."

"She's all right.  We talked after you left."  Carolyn had talked.  Her
mother was the one who had argued.  "I told her that she was going to
have to get used to having you around--for Billy,s sake at least."

"I bet that went over real well."

"Give it time.  Drew.  Nobody ever said it was going to be easy, but
it's not" -- She wanted to say that it wasn't as hopeless as he
believed it was, but she didn't think this was the moment to get into
that with him.  "Just give it some time.  And call me tomorrow, as soon
as you know something about the photographer."

"I will."

Did he sound strangely reluctant to let the conversation wind down?  Or
was that just wishful thinking on her part?  "Good night," she said.

He hung up the phone without a word.

Chapter 14

Drew was at the offices of School Pix before they opene~ He followed
the first employee, a secretary, in the door: 8:10, and started
brushing past every reason she could come up with on why she should
wait before showing him what he wanted to see.

Two phone calls later, to both the company's owner and its manager,
Drew was sifting through records show it where the company took
pictures and which of the conpany's two hundred employees had actually
snapped then He also had to think that it might he someone who worke
processing or printing the photographs, and he knew it w," going to be
impossible to trace any lab employee to an individual picture.  But he
would tackle that problem wh~ he came to it.  First, he had to know
about the photographers.

The company truly did work all over the Midwest, ar~ that had him
feeling foolish for being so confident he' found something significant
the day before.

He'd found out the name of the man who'd been at Sara Parker's school
yesterday.  He had two agents checking him out, but they didn't think
he was theft man.  For one thing, he was too young.  He would have been
in school himself the last time anyone took a picture of Annie McKay.
But they had to check.

And even if that didn't pan out, it shouldn't worry Drew.  He hadn't
thought the man would actually be so stupid as to come back {o Sara's
school so soon after snatching her.

Still, he was worried.  His instincts had told him yesterday that he
was on to something.  They were distressingly silent today.  Unless, of
course, he considered the possibility that he was actually scared to
solve this case.

It was too personal, too much a part of his life.  It had cost him much
too much, And if he found this guy, he might well kill the man
himself.

A trial, some slick defense attorney somehow painting the animal as a
victim, forcing Sara Parker to see the man again, to tell some more
strangers what he had done to her--it seemed like too much for everyone
involved to handle.  Drew couldn't be sure of what he might do to the
man if he found him first, and if he found him alone.

Just to be safe, he'd called for help this morning.  Two other agents
had joined him in the Search.  They were in the basement, digging
through faded, dust-covered records from as far back as ten years
ago.

He was upstairs in the main offices, looking through the more recent
records for those on Sara Parker's school, thinking they would be the
easiest to find.  According to the paper he now held in his hand the
man who had photographed her last at her elementary school was named
Ray Williams.

He took the piece of paper into the office of the company owner.  "What
can you tell me about this guy?"  he asked.

"Not much," the man replied.  "He used to work for us years ago, before
I bought the company.  Apparently he wasn't too reliable.  We fired
him.  Still use him on occasion, but only when we're in a bind. Someone
gets sick, they hit some bad weather and can't travel the way they're
supposed to, some equipment problems slow them down, whatever. When we
can't cover a scheduled shoot with someone on staff, we call somebody
like Ray."

"You must have some records on him."  Drew said.  "His phone number?
His address?  You'd have to have that, at least, and a social security
number, to pay him.  That would help."

"Sure, I have that."

"One more thing-- Would you know whether he ever worked for a
photography company called Watson's, based in Chicago?"

"Not offhand, but I'll check."

"Thanks," Drew said, turning around when ohe of the agents he'd left in
the basement called his name.  "What have you got?"

"Hope Junior High School, eleven years ago."  He handed Drew a sheet of
paper.

Drew looked down at the paper in his hand, searching for the name,
needing to see it there to be sure.  He found the date--it checked
out--found the name of the school.  And then, on the bottom of the
form.  There had to be thousands of them in that basement, and he
couldn't be~lieve he was fortunate enough that the company had kept
them all.  There was the name.

Ray Williams.

He tried to speak, but couldn't.  And he needed to find a way to get
rid of the other agent, a man he'd never met before this morning, a man
who had no idea how much this meant to him.

"Is that what you needed?"  the man said.

Drew nodded.  That wasn't so hard.  He could nod his head.  "Give me a
minute," he said, not caring what anyone would make of his request.

The guy hesitated, then glanced at the open doorway, as if to ask if
what he wanted was for him to leave.

Drew nodded again and turned his back, not caring how that looked or
how rude it was.  Thankfully, the next sound he heard was that of the
door clicking shut.

There was a desk in front of him, and he put his trembling hands down
on the surfac~, spaced them farther than shoulder-width apart and
leaned into the solid mass of the desk.  Somehow, he was still
standing.

The coveted paper landed faceup on the desk in front of him, and as he
hung his head, he found himself staring straight at it, straight at
that name.

Ray Williams.

Eleven years ago, that man had been in Hope, Illinois.  He'd taken one
of those cherished final pictures of Annie McKay.  His work still hung
on the walls of her mother's house.

How could her mother stand to look at those pictures after this?  Drc~v
wondered.

Annie had sat in front of that man, smiling and care-frc~, a normal,
happy twelve-year-old at the time.  And a year later, she'd b~n gone.

He'd taken her.  God knc~v what he'd done with her then.  Drew wasu't
sure he could handle knowing, but soon.  He could feel it in his bones
now.  He knew that soon he would know.  He would catch this man.
Hopefully, someone would hold him back, and he wouldn't kill him.  And
then he would know for certain what that man had done with Annie
McKay.

After that.  he couldn't begin to imagine what would happen ~after
that.  And he couldn't think of that now.  He had a job to do.  He was
going to go get the man who'd kidnapped Annie McKay, the man who, ten
years ago, had irrevocably altered the course of his life, and Carolyn
and their son's.  ~

And the man was going to pay.

It wouldn't solve anything.  It Would in no way un~ what the man had
done.  Drew saw that so clearly now, ~ it only made him all the more
furious.  But if it was pos ble to punish someone adequately for taking
a human life especially the life of an innocent child, the man would p~
"Mr, Delaney?"

It was the photography company's owner.  With son effort, "Drew managed
to stand upright and turn aroun, His stomach was churning; he might
well throw up, sore thing he hadn't done on the job since he'd watched
sore one fish what was left of a corpse out of the ocean after had
spent two mon this there.  And he had developed th strange tunnel
vision that was making it hard to see.  All I could manage to focus on
was the man's face.

Drew swallowed hard, willing whatever was inside h stomach to stay
there, and said, "What have you got?"

"Everything I have on the guy."

Drew took the paper.  He had an age--thirty.  six--a s~ cial security
number that would buy him all sorts of info mat ion and an address,
somewhere in Indiana.  B pointed it out to the owner.  "Any idea where
that is?"

"Not off the top of my head, but there's a map on t~ wall behind
you."

Drew walked across the room to it.  The town was cane Riverdale, and it
sounded vaguely familiar.  He scanned t~ area in the middle of the
state, from Bloomington wcs' and he found it right away.

It was just across the border from Illinois, fifteer maybe twenty
minutes from Hope.

Drew phoned Carolyn as soon as he thought he could talk to her about
this without scaring her to death simpl with the sound of his voice.

There were a half-dozen people he should have called right away, but he
had a duty to protect someone else now.  And right this minute, that
person came first with him.

"Where's Billy?"  he asked when Carolyn answered the phone.  Irrational
as it was, the boy was his first concern.  "He's at school.  Why?
What's wrong?"

"You don't have to be scared, all right?  I'm being absolutely
illogical about this, and you need to understand-that up front.  But I
want you to get Billy and not let him out of your sight until I call
you back.  Will you do that for me?"

"Of course, but what's going on?"

"I found the man."  He almost choked On the words.  "I don't have proof
yet.  I haven't even.  checked the photography records on all the
girls, but I found the ones on Annie and Sara Parker.  I'm certain I
found the man who took them."

He heard nothing but the sound of her breathing.  He gave her a moment,
needing one himself.  "Carolyn?  Are you still there?"

"Uh-huh."

"He's maybe twenty minutes away from you.  Dammit, I bet he's been
there the whole time."

"I don't .... Oh, Drew."

"Don't cry, sweetheart.  We're going to get him.  We'll find him
tonight.  I promise you that."

"And you think Billy's in some kind of danger?  You think he could
somehow connect Annie to Billy?"

"Not in a million years," he said.  "But I can't stand the idea of that
man being loose and being that close to the two of you.  I... if
anything ever happened to Billy I don't know what I'd do."

"I'll go get him," she said.

"Wait a minute.  Carolyn?"

Tyler Hayes 211

"This is how you felt, isn't it?"  he said, truly understanding for the
first time.  "When you were pregnant?  When you thought about Annie?
About losing her?  About how you could possibly keep a child safe in
this crazy world?  When you were too scared to keep Billy yourself.
This was how you felt."  It was staggering.  It was a paralyzing fear,
the kind he'd never faced in all his years with the Bureau and in the
army.  He'd done incredibly risky, frightening things, and none of them
had left him like this.  None had left him feeling powerless, even with
all the strength and skills he possessed, to protect one innocent
little boy.  If he could simply grab him and hold on to him, if he
could never let him get more than an arm's length.  away for his whole
life, he would do it.  He would never let the kid out of his sight, and
even then it might not be enough to protect him.  The reality of that,
the responsibility of keeping a child safe in these crazy times,.  was
staggering.  Carolyn was crying, and she couldn't a~, swer him.  "I
understand now," he told her.  "I didn't before.  I couldn't imagine,
but now I do.  And ... I'm so sorry, baby.  I'm so damned sorry you had
to go through that all by yourself.

"Loolq" he said after a minute when neither one of them could manage
-to speak.  "I've got to go.  Get Billy and keep him there.  I'll come
to the house as soon as it's over."

Funny, Drew thought, Ray Williams didn't look likea monster.  He looked
like a little wimp of a man.  He had one of those short, slightly
rounded bodies, the shoulders hunched in,-the head eternally pointed
downward, the muscles soft and mushy.  He was the kind of person you
could walk past on the street and never think a thing about, the kind
who blended in with the landscape as if he were nothing at all, a
totally unremarkable-looking man.

His manner was mild and meek, thou h a bit agitated.  They'd lain.  in
wait for him at the little house on a quiet, tree-lined street near the
center of the tiny town.

He would never have brought the children here.  Drew was certain of
that.  So it shouldn't have been that hard for him to look at the
house, but it was.

Two hours into their surve'filance, this meek4 looking little man had
driven into the driveway in an old pickup.  He'd gotten out of the
truck, looked around as if he sensed he was being watched, then headed
for the house.  When he turned the key in the front door and stepped
over the threshold, the agents had moved in.

Drew hadn't been one of them.  His boss, Bob Rossi, knew the whole
story about Annie McKay, and he'd tided right away that there was no
way he was letting Drew near the guy.  Rossi had held him back himself,
physically restraining Drew when the man pulled into the driveway at
the house.

"It's him," Drew had said.  They'd found the records at both
photography companies.  Ray Williams had photographed all five girls in
the months before they disappeared.  "I know it's him."

The man had let the agents in willingly.  He hadn't tried to resist in
any way.  He'd voluntarily let them search his house, and the search
was continuing even now.

Drew couldn't be still, and they wouldn't let him go in.  He paced. Bob
Rossi allowed that, and no more.

'. "I want to kill him," he said.  "I want to do it with my bare hands,
and I want it to take one hell of a long time before he dies."

"I know," his friend said, putting himself between Drew and the
house.

"He's got to tell us what happened to those girls.  We've got to make
him crack.  Ten damned years we've been waiting, and that bastard's got
to tell us.  Did you tell the guys inside?  Do they understand that?"

"I told them."

"He had to take them somewhere.  There's no way he could have kept them
in that house.  Too many people c by."

"I know, Drew."

"He's got to take us there.  We've got to make him en then make him
take us there."

"We will.  I promise."

They stood in the dark for hours, waiting.  As information filtered
out, they heard that the man sat' chair in the kitchen, drumming his
fingers nervously on table as the agents searched his house.  He'd
shown no sistance to that, and the first thing he'd said was cno~ to
make Drew sick.

"It's about that girl," he'd told them.

Finally, at dawn, the first team was ready to con~ defeat.  They hadn't
found anything.  Another team, real experts in evidence-gathering, was
coming in morning.

Ray Williams was on his way to jail.

Someone had snapped his picture there, then n/she through developing
and faxed a copy to a town abo~ hundred and eighty miles away.  When
they showed i Sara Parker the next morning, she screamed.

But they still had no idea what the man had done to Annie McKay or any
of the other girls.

Carolyn waited all night and into the next day for ] to call.  Finally,
around eight o'clock the next evening, answered the phone and found
Drew on the other em the line.

"I'm in Hope," he said.  "I'm at the bed-andbreaki and-... I need you,
Carolyn."

"What about Billy?"  she asked.  "It's safe?  I can 14 him here?"

- She got there in minutes.  Drew looked awful, as if he'd been beaten
but the bruises hadn't yet begun to show.  She was afraid to even ask
what he'd found out or what had happened in the thirty-six hours since
he'd last called.

He was sitting on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him, his
back propped up against the headboard.  The look in his eyes frightened
her.

"C'mere," he said, motioning her over to the bed, then pulling her into
his arms.  They locked around her, nearly cutting off her breath.

He was trembling badly, and she was surprised he had the strength to
hold her as tightly as he did.

"You got him?"  she asked, thinking she was going to have to do most of
the talking tonight.

He nodded.

"He's the one?"

"No question in my mind.  Of course, a jury may have different
ideas."

"What about Annie?"

She felt the breath leave his lungs in a whoosh, felt his arms tighten
around her even more.

"I can't breathe, Drew."  Even when he released her 'a bit, she still
couldn't seem to draw a breath.

She'd waited for this moment for years, prepared herself as best she
could.  And it shouldn't be this hard.  After all, she'd accepted
Annie's death long ago.

"What did he do to her?"  she said, before she to think about whether
she wanted to know.  "I don't know."

"But he had her?"

"At one point.  He recognized her picture.  He recognized that the
clothes he gave Sara Parker to wear ~ Annie's.  And Sara Parker finally
told us why upset the other day, when I showed her Annie's

~ 215

the red suit.  It was because she'd seen it before, at that place where
the man took her.  "

"He had pictures of Annie?"  The thought had Carolyn's stomach
lurching.  '

"Yeah.  Pictures of her and the others.  Sara couldn't say how many
different girls."

"So what did he do to my little sister?"

Drew pushed her face down into the hollow between his shoulder and his
chin, holding her there.  She knew that, if he could, he would draw
this pain of hers down inside him, feel it for her, absorb it into his
own body, despite all the pain he felt himself,

"He won't say, or maybe be doesn't know anymore himself."  He swore
before he went On, "He's crazy, Carolyn.  He says that he lost Annie.
He says he lost all of them.  Four little girls.  Sara's the only one
who was ever seen again, and he says he just lost them."

They sat on the bed, Drew holding her tightly.  She would have simply
come apart if he hadn't,

"Lost," she managed to say, incredulous and infuriated at the enormous
number of possibilities that term implied.

"Lost.  I'm telling you, the guy's insane:~ I'd never ad-mi tit to
anyone but you~ anywhere outside this room, because we'll never get him
convicted that way.  But the man's a nut case."

"We've got to know what happened," she said.  After all this time, you
can't find him and not ~figure out what happened to Annie.  "

"I'm not giving up yet.  Not by a long shot."

"I know.  I didn't mean to sound ungrateful.  I am grateful, Drew.  And
I'm so proud of you and the work you've done.  I" -- '

"It's not done yet, Carolyn."

"But you'll finish it."

He gave a sound of disgust.  "Even if I do..."  "What?"

"Don't go making me out to be some kind of hero here," he said.

"What do you mean?"  ~

"You know why I did this, don't you?  You know why it means so much to
me to find her?  Don't get me wrongm Annie was a great kid.  I hated
what had happened to her,-but she's not the only reason I'm doing this.
She's not the reason this case has haunted me all these years.

"I wanted to make another chance for us, Carolyn.  I wanted to somehow
undo what I'd done, to ease some of the guilt.  I felt it, too,
irrational as it is.  And I couldn't make it go away.  You need to
understand that--that a part of me understands why your mother neezled
to blame me and to blame us?"

Carolyn could understand that all too well.  She still had hope that
once this was all resolved, she and Drew wQuld he together.  She
listened as he continued.

"I thought if I could find the man who did this to Annie, if I could
find out what happened to her, that it might somehow buy me another
chance--for us, I thought maybe we could finally put everything behind
us and start over~ I thought... Aw, hell, what does it matter, anyway?
It's not working out that way.  And now there's Billy "

"Drew, I know you don't see how it's going to work out, but you haven't
given it any time.  It's only been a few days.  Maybe we don't see the
answer now, but that doesn't mean there isn't one.  It doesn't mean
we'll never find it.  Couldn't you just have a little faith?"

"Faith?  I think I lost the last of mine years ago."

Fine.  She had enough for the two of them.  For the three of them,
even.  And she was ready to fight for this man.

"How about this, then?"  she said.  "I live in Chicago.  You're in
Chicago now.  Maybe you don't see how we can be together, but tell me,
how are you going to manage to stay away from me?"

Drew pulled away from her then, though he hated the idea of letting her
go.

He hadn't even thought about that, because this whole thing had
happened so fast.  She lived in Chicago, too.  They were going to have
to share the same city.  She'd be only ~minutes away.  He might only be
a few blocks from her, and every day he'd have to fight to keep himself
away.  How in hell was he ever going to manage that?

He backed away from her totally, then got up off the bed.

She'd frightened him.  In an instant, he saw that she was going to ruin
any hope he had of finding some peace of mind once this was all over.
~

She would haunt him'.

"Come on," he said.  "I'll take you home."

She looked surprised at that, and she glanced around the room, as if
she meant to stay.  As if she were going to make him pick her up and
throw her out of his room.

He'd never manage to do that.

Thankfully, she came willingly, but not quietly.

"I still love you," she said, looking him right in the eye as she
pulled on her coat.

He swayed on his feet, felt himself leaning toward her, then fighting
to bring himself upright aga~m.

"You love me, too," she said.  "You told me so right here in this room,
so don't even try to deny it."

He certainly didn't need to be reminded of that, either.  In this room,
in this bed, in that instant he'd joined his body with hers, he hadn't
been able to' hold the ~words back.  And he'd never be able to take
them back, or to discount his confession in any way.

He still loved her.  He'd meant it with every bit of his heart and his
soul.  He still loved her.  He always would.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, at the door now.  "I just
had to tell you.  I wanted to make sure you understood how I feel about
you, and that I'm not going to give up on us.  Not ever.  You can try
to deny it or try to ignore it, but I'm going to fight you every step
of the way."

"Chapter 15

Ray Williams didn't crack.  For three days, they questioned him.  For
three days, he couldn't come up with anything more plausible than the
statement that he'd somehow lost those five little girls.

A thorough search of his house yielded nothing but a fetish for nude
photos of little children--none of them showing the missing girls,
however.  He did happen to wear a size twelve-and,a-half-wide shoe' the
same size as the footprint found in the woods the day Annie was taken.
Of course, many men wore that size shoe His record showed an arrest for
exposing himself to a young woman twelve years ago, then nothing.

His neighbors described him as a quiet man who kept to himself.  They'd
never seen any children around his house, never seen him take any undue
interest in them.

He did like to fish, they thought, and he had a cabin somewhere in the
woods nearby.  No one was sure where.  He'd never taken anyone there,
but at times they saw him leave with his fishing gear.

He lived quietly, taking odd photography jobs here and there, drawing
on the small estate left to him by his mother, who'd died six years
before.  No one knew of any other relatives he had.  No property showed
up as being registered in his name or his late mother's.

The authorities were sure the cabin was the key to unlocking the
mystery of the missing girls, and they had no idea where it was.

Sara Parker, as a witness in court, would he jaw fully shaky.  Simply
looking at a photo of the man had frightened her so badly that her
parents now said they'd never he able to let her go through a trial.
Drew couldn't have said that he blamed them, and Sara's parents were
counting on him and the Bureau to find the evidence they needed to
convict the man without Sara's testimony.

Ray Williams was being held on a kidnapping charge, but they'd never he
able to make it stick with what they' had.  They had nothing but
circumstantial evidence that linked the man to the other girls'
disappearance.  ~

And they were nowhere near finding out what he'd done with Annie
McKay.

Drew wished he'd strangled the man that first night, before the legal
system ever got a hold of him.  If he had to listen, one more tame, to
the public defender assigned to the case talking about his client's
rights and his client's needs, he was going to put his fist through a
brick wall.

He was exhausted, more frustrated than he'd ever been in his life, and
he needed answers.  He'd promised them to Carolyn and her mother.  He
needed them for Billy, as well.

I-Ie had failed.  It tore at him, night and day, unffi he couldn't eat
o~ sleep or do anything except think about it.  In this, the most
impoRant case he'd ever' worked on, he had failed.

He still needed answers that he didn't think he was going to find. That
was why he went to Carolyn.

"I hate asking you to do this," he said when he called her from
Chicago.  "But I don't see any other way."

"I'll do anything to help you find out where that man took the girls
and what he did with them," she s~id, sounding invincible in that
moment.  But he knew she wasn't.

"It's going to hurt," he warned.

"So does not knowing."

"Okay.  I want you to come to Chicago.  We're having a press conference
tomorrow afternoon.  We've managed to keep the lid on this arrest so
far, but it's not going to last.  We're losing control of it even now,
and if the word's going to get out, we want to pick the time and the
place."

"What do you want me to do, Drew?"

"I want you to tell every TV-station reporter who will listen all about
Annie.  It's going to be hard, I know.  But you have to make it
personal for them.  Let them see how badly this hurt you.  Talk about
what it did to your family.  Bawl your pretty eyes out--whatever it
takes.  TV producers eat that sort of stuff up.  I need you to catch
their attention and hold it.  Make them remember you and what you said.
Make them remember Annie, and this monster we've got sitting in
jail."

"Why?"  she asked.

"Because somebody knows something.  Somebody heard something or saw
something.  Someone has to be able to lead us to this man's hide nut
and we've got to find that person.  The bigger the impression you can
make, the more people will remember..  I want it to haunt them,
Carolyn.  I want people on the street talking about it the next day.
Can you do that for me?  Can you do it for Annie?"

"Of course," she said.  "I meant it.  I'll do anything I can."

"Good."  He told her where to meet him, then was ready to hang up.  He
had a million things to do.  And he thought maybe, if he just never
stopped moving, never stopped working, he'd forget how impossible this
whole situation seemed robe.

So far, that wasn't working as well as he'd hoped.  Hearing her voic~
again wasn't hal ping Knowing he hadn't seen her in three days, that he
would see her this afternoon, wasn't helping, either.

"Drew?"  she said.  "It's going to work out.  You'll see."

The cas~?  Or them and Billy?  He wasn't holding out-much hope about
either situation.

"I've missed you," she said.  "" Have you thought about what I said?
"

"I have, but I've got to go," he said, like a coward.  "We can talk
tomorrow, after you get here."

Drew was about to leave his office late the next night when the phone
rang one last time.  It was nearly midnight, and he'd been here most of
the night.  The press conference had gone well.  All the major networks
in Chicago had carried portions of it live.  All had rerun some of the
footage on the evening and nighttime newscasts.  They'd gotten some
footage on the national newscasts, as well, plus additional coverage in
many of the major markets in Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky and Ohio,
because of the connections to the other missing girls.

As he'd suspected they would, the cameras had eaten up the image of
Carolyn, a beautiful woman tearfully relating the long years she'd
spent trying to come to terms with the loss of her sister.  She'd been
wonderful, but he knew how much it had cost her.

He felt' guilty about putting her through the media hype, but he was
desperate.  He needed evidence that he didn't yet have.

They'd gotten lots of crank calls, lots of information that hadn't led
anywhere except to frustration.  If nothing panned out from this,
they'd take their show on the road tomorrow, to the area where Sara
Parker had been found,

in southern Indiana.  There had to be someone there who'd seen Ray
Williams heading for that fishing shack of his.

Drew looked up at the dock, then thought of Carolyn alone in her
apartment.  Her place wasn't that far away, and he wanted to check on
her to-make sure she was okay.

And hell, who was he kidding?  He'd take any excuse he could to see her
again.

He hadn't actually thought about it until she told him the other night,
but they were both going to be in the same city.  He knew where she
lived, not that far from his own apartment, and it would he sheer
torture knowing she was close and forcing himself to stay away from
her.

He'd said he didn't know how they could be together, how things could
ever work out between them.  And she'd said she didn't know how they
could he so close, could need each other so much, and s~ill stay away
from each other.

He was just beginning to see how hard that was going to be.

"Drew?"  someone called from across-the room.  "Yeah?"  He turned in
the direction of the voice.

"Line three, asking for you by name.  He doesn't even sound like a
crackpot."

Drew didn't get excited about~ it, after the night he'd spent on the
phone.  He just picked up the receiver.

"Drew?"  the voice on the other end asked.  "I knew you'd st'fil he
there.  This is Nick.  Nick Garrett."

The psychiatrist who'd questioned Sara Parker.  "How are you, Nick?"

"Confused.  I saw you On TV tonight, and this is going to sound wild,
okay, but hear me out."

"Sure."  Drew had met Nick a couple of times since moving to Chicago.
He respected him, and if he had a story to tell, Drew would listen,
even if it was almost midnight and Carolyn was waiting.

"I don't know why I didn't put this together when I talked to Sara, but
I didn't have any connection to the name Annie.  Didn't even know her
last name.  It was seeing Carolyn on TV tonight that made it all click
for me.  Before that, I had no idea that one of the missing girls was
Carolyn's little sister."

"Go on," D~w said, totally baffled by what the man was trying to say.
From what he'd seen and heard, Dr.  Nicholas Garrett was a very
methodical, logical man.

"You don't have anything to indicate that this little girl, Carolyn's
sister, is dead, do you?"

Drew tried not to sound sarcastic, but it was hard.  "Other than the
fact that no one's seen her for the past ten years, no, we don't."

"Okay, hear me out.  It's a long shot, but I couldn't go to bed for
thinking about it.  I just had to tell you."

"Take all the time you need, Nick."

"First, you need to understand that this conversation never took place.
My license is on the line here.  This is all caught up in that heavy
doctor-patient confidentiality stuff that would get my license pulled
in a minute-if it came out ."  '

He had Drew's full attention now.  This was serious stuff.  "Sure you
want to tell me this?"

"I have to.  I couldn't live with myself if I didn't."  "Okay,
shoot."

"Right after I came to Chicago, six years ago, I worked at this runaway
shelter on the South Side called the Gate House.  I did some group
sessions there with the kids, when we could get any of them to sit
still for one.

"This girl shows up, says she's seventeen or so, and she's different
from the rest of them, somehow.  She's angry, but it's that fresh, raw
kind that you rarely see in a runaway.  Usually, by the time they run,
they've been angry and abused or neglected for years.  And they don't
care that much about anyone, especially not themselves.

"Anyway, this girl is eaten up with it.  She's furious, and the wound's
still fresh.  She hadn't learned to hide it yet, or to keep it all
locked inside her.

"She hadn't been on the streets long, and you could tell.  She wasn't
doing drugs, hadn't found a pimp.  We still had a shot with her.  I
just couldn't write her off as one of those lost causes, like you can
with so many of the rest of them.

"So, we got her into the shelter, staPaxt talking to her about going
home, but didn't get anywhere with that.  She said her home was gone,
that she'd never really had one.  I kept pushing her--couldn't we call
someone, anyone, just to let them know she was okay?  Couldn't she go
to someone, anyone, she trusted?  Wouldn't anyone make room for her in
their home?

"She tells me this bizarre story about the people who raised her all
these years; who died a few months back.  She'd found out, after they
died, that she's not who she thought she was.  She's not their
daughter.  And now she has no idea who she is.

"She tells me: that she had some accident when she was eleven--at
least, the people who'd raised her told her she was eleven.  And she
doesn't remember anything before that, except what these people told
her about her past.  Except it wasn't her past at all.

"Anyway, I keep working on her.  I tell her she has to try to find out
who she is.  She says she doesn't care.  I finally talk her into
letting me try some hypnosis, and I try to take her back to this time
when she was eleven.

"It was awful.  The kid was teri'ified.  She was screaming.  I can
still hear her.  You can't imagine what it was like to listen to that.
She wanted her mother and her father to come and save her from someone,
and when that didn't work, she started calling for someone else, some
older person, someone she obviously saw as a sort of protector.  " The
name she was calling.  it was Carolyn.  "

Drew's pen slid out of his hand and clattered down onto the top of the
desk when he heard the name.  He'd been taking notes while Nick talked.
It was an automatic action for him to jot down notes when he talked to
people, particularly over the phone.

He couldn't believe the clatter the dropped pen made, but it served
some purpose.  It had brought him out of this tunnel vision he'd
developed, all his concentration focusing on the story being.  told
through the phone, and made him realize where he was.  He was in his
office.  It was late, and he'd been on the phone all day.

He'd heard hundreds of stories by now, and none of them had made a damn
bit of difference.  And then he'd heard this one.  "Nick," he began.

"I know.  It's crazy.  I realize that.  But I saw Carolyn telling this
awful story about her little sister on TV, and I couldn't stop thinking
about'A.J. That's what she calls herself--A.J. But it's not her real
name.  She doesn't have any idea what her real name is."

"It's" -- Drew couldn't even talk.  This had thrown him that badly.  "I
never even thought about finding her,

Nick--at least not alive.  "

"I know, man."

"What are the odds?  Hell, it's been ten years."

"I had to tell you."

"Is that all you've got?"  Drew asked, starting to remember his job
here.

"She's the right age.  A,$.  thought she was seventeen when she wound
up at the shelter, which would make her twenty-three or so now.  How
old would Annie be?"

"Twenty-three."  Drew had never been able to picture Annie at that
age.

"She's maybe five-three, and slight.  Still looks like a kid.  Has this
white-blond hair that I'd bet didn't come from a bottle, and dark blue
eyes."

"That's it?"  Drew asked, eager for more now.

"What do you want?  Her blood type?  Her finger prints?  Maybe
something you could~ lift some DNA from?"

"It would be nice."  Drew decided to go for broke.  Before he got too
excited about this, he needed a reason more.  Because it had been so
long since he'd even allowed himself to hope like this.  "Why did you
call me tonight, Nick?"

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"I already do.  ~ell me why you called."

"I couldn't get A.J. out of my mind.  Not ever.  She pulled her life
together, I knew she would, because she was such a bright kid.  Got a
scholarship, got a degree in counseling, and she works at one of the
runaway shelters in the city' now.  I still see her every now and then,
and I can't forget how frightened she was that afternoon when I
hypnotized her.  I can't forget the way she begged for these people to
come and get her.

"I was thinking about her the whole time I was watching the piece on
TV, and then at the end, when they went to Carolyn, I put the names
together.  Right before the segment was over, they flashed the pictures
of those little girls, and Annie's picture ... it's A.J. ten years ago.
I can see it in her eyes, in her smile.  It's my A.J."

Drew still wasn't letting himself get excited.  It was too farfetched
to think that Annie had somehow gotten away from that monster, and that
all this time she'd been in

Chicago, with Carolyn and now with him.  What were the odds?  A million
to one?  A billion?

"I've got a picture of A.J.," Nick told him.  "If you've got a fax
machine, you can see it tonight."

It' was an offer Drew couldn't refuse.

He couldn't help but remember, as he sat at his desk in the
still-crowded, still-noisy office, that night not so long ago; when
he'd waited in the police department in that tiny Indiana town where
Sara Parker had turned up.  He'd been waiting for another picture of
Annie to come over the fax machine.

Drew'd had no idea then that he'd be sitting here, now, waiting for a
picture of a young woman someone thought was a grown-up Annie.

Just as it had been that night, his hand was 'shaking when he took the
photo from a fellow agent a few moments later.

Just as he had then, he turned his chair around and put his back to the
room, then took a minute to try to prepare himself to flip over the
sheet of paper and look at the image it contained.

He'd had the presence of mind to get the case files, to pull out his
own old pictures of Annie and spread them out on the desk behind him.
Not that he'd ever forget how she looked.  Not that her image would
ever be erased from his mind.

But he didn't trust himself to make the comparison, because he wanted
too badly to believe it could he her.

Four years on the job with the Bureau, four years of the cynicism and
occasional horror that had jaded his senses, yet he still wanted to
hope.

Maybe Carolyn was right.  Mayhe there was always room to hope.  Maybe
it was always the last thing to die, and his had one last gasp of life
left in it.

He couldn't imagine how Annie could have escaped dying.

He flipped over the flimsy sheet of fax paper in his hands and closed
his eyes.  Annie's image, smiling, laughing, looking like an angel with
the sun shining on her hair, was in his mind's eye.

He finally found the courage to look down at the paper in front of
him.

"Carolyn?"

She was sleeping.  At least she was trying to, and someone wouldn't let
her.  She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, after driving
to Chicago earlier for the press conference, and she'd taken a
painkiller for her head that had a little something in it to help her
sleep, as well.  "Carolyn?"

"What?"  she asked, blinking hard against the brightness of the light
in the room, which had been dark only moments before.  "Drew?"

"Who else would he here this time of night?"  he said, holding up the
key she'd given him when she hoped he'd come over tonight, no matter
how late it was when he finished his work.

And 'now he was here, in her apartment, but she must be dreaming.  It
was the only thing that could explain the almost teasing quality in his
voice.  She hadn't heard that in forever.  And he had nothing to smile
about, and no reason to tease her.

"Well?  I'm waiting."

Same voice, same man, She must still be draining.  "Why are you
srixiling like that?"

That seemed the easiest thing to do, just to ask him and to watch it
fade away, maybe watch him fade, as well.  "I'm happy for a change."

"Oh."

"Are you awake yet?"

"Obviously not."

"Take something to help you sleep?"

She nodded.  That explained it, of course.  She was drugged~ But then.
she hadn't thought the stuff was that strong.

"You have to wake Up for this.  It's important, and you'll want to
remember it."

She buried her face in her hands to block out the offending light,
rubbed her eyes, then sat up all.  the way.  She was on the couch.
She'd fallen asleep, and now Drew was here.

Finally, she remembered what he'd been~ doing to-night--trying to
follow up leads on the kidnapping.  She'd wanted to be there, but this
afternoon's activities, all those lights for the cameras, all those
questions, all those mereades.  She hadn't been able to take any more
after that.  "You found something?"  she asked suddenly.  "You woke
up."  He was still smiling.

Why would findihg something have made him happy?  How could he tease
her this way?

It was as if the old Drew were back, With her~

To see him that way again, now.  ,. she was baffled.

Carolyn glanced over at the clock on the mantel.  It was nearly two in
the morning.  Why was he here at this hour?

"You found the cabin where he took the girls?"  she asked.  But that
wouldn't have made him happy.

"Better than that."  He moved her a bit, half lifting her, to make room
for himself on the end of the couch, then settled her in b~ide him.
"Are you ready to hear what I have to tell you?"

"No.  You're scaring me, Drew

"Don't be scared.  Not anymore, Hold out your hands and close your
eyes."

She trusted him, so she did as he asked.  He dropped something into her
hands.  Asheet of paper?  No, it was too thick.

"Open up," he said, his tone coaxing.

There were tears in her eyes, and she didn't know why.  She was close
enough to Drew to feel the nervous energy radiating from him, and she
couldn't imagine what could have caused it.  This thing in her hands?

"What do you see, Carolyn?"

She looked down.

It was a picture of a girl with white-blond hair and b eyes, a picture
of a smile nearly as familiar as her own.

"Is it?"  -- She searched her mind for some explanation, then latched
on to the only reasonable one she col find.  "Is this one of those
computerized age-progressi photos?"

She knew about them.  Hope House had the technolc to produce~ them but
why would Drew need one of those?   " " What is it?  " she asked.

He smiled.  The man had such a beautiful smile, she'd missed it all
these years.  She had missed so w much about him.

He pulled her closer, held her tighter.  "It's just a picture, Carolyn.
 A plain old picture, taken about six mom ago."

"Then it's... I don't understand."

"WhO's in the picture, sweetheart?  Tell me who y

"Annie."

Carolyn was certain.  She'd have known that face a~ where, except. this
girl wasn't thirteen.  And Annie h never gotten past thirteen. Unless. 
Drew pulled Carolyn over onto his lap and held "She's right here."  He
started to laugh.  "She's in C cago.  She has been for years."

Carolyn wasn't sure what had happened next.  At le she couldn't have
put any order to it.  She'd laughed.  She cried.  She'd been in Drew's
arms.  They'd been exhausl and excited, and they'd needed each other.

One kiss had led to another, and another.  She could stop crying, but
at the same time she was smiling.  There been so many tunes when she
didn't think she'd sin again.

"I love you, Drew," she told him again and again as he kissed her
mouth, then went after the spot at the base of her neck that had always
made her a little crazy when he so much as touched it.

She held him as tightly as she could, determined that she'd never let
him go again, that she wouldn't let anything come between them now.

Let him try to leave her.  Let him try to forget her.  He'd have to
forget this, as well.  Let him try to tell her this was
impossible--she'd dare him to do that right now, dare him to do it
afterward, too.

His arms came around her, the muscles straining to hold her closer.
Their bodies strained toward each other, with much too much between
them.

She tugged at his already loosened tie, then started working on the
buttons of his shirt.  His jacket fell to the floor.  She pulled the
ends of his shirt from his pants, then found warm flesh beneath it. She
pressed her face against his chest,-nuzzled her nose against the fine,
curling hairs sprinkled across it and drew in the scent of him.

He had ~his hands on her hips, pulling her against~ his body.  The
hardness there left her with no doubts as to how much he wanted her
now, when anything in the world seemed pos~sible for the two of them.

"I can't stop,"

" he said, working furiously on the buttons on her blouse.

"I didn't hear anyone ask you to stop," she said as her shirt finally
came undone and he threw it to the floor, as well.

It wasn't long before all their clothing was lying in a heap in the
middle of her living room.  She stood in the middle of the room, her
body lit by the lamp and what was left of the fire.  She stood
trembling in front of him while he looked at her, as if memorizing her
with his eyes, then with his hands, as he touched her face, her
shoulders, her breasts, her hips.

He didn't need to store up memories of her, she wanted to tell him.
Because he was going to have her, forever.  She was going to find a way
to make that happen.

"You are so beautiful," Drew said.  '"Even more beautiful than I
remembered, if that's possible."

Then he picked.  her up in his arms and carried her to bed.

They went to tell her mother early the next morning, because "Carolyn
couldn't wait for her' to hear the good news.  It was also a good
excuse for not having to hang around in her own heal, listening to the
man she loved tell her what a mistake they'd just made, and that
finding Annie hadn'fsolved the problems between them,

Instead of slugging Drew right then.  and there, instead of getting
angry at him for his lack of faith--even now, after an absolute miracle
had happened and he'd found Annie for her--Carolyn made him get in the
car ~/nd ~drive.

Let him say he was sorry for making love to her, if he absolutely had
to do so.  He could say it, but she was rift going to believe it.  He
couldn't make her believe it was true, no matter how hard he tried.

It was only a matter of time, she told herself, before she'd finally
convince himlotherwise.  Her little sister was alive and well and
living in Chicago.  It was an absolute miracle.  How could he tell her
everything was hopeless after that?

The.  lights were on at the house when they arrived, shortly after
dawn, and they didn't have a lot of t/uric to waste.  Billy got up at
seven to catch the school bus, and they wanted to be able to tell her
mother privately, because they weren't sure what her reaction might
be.

Grace McKay surprised them by being amazingly calm about the whole
thing.  She cried a little over the picture and held it against her
heart.

Draw trie~i not to look at Carolyn during this.  He was still a bit
dazed that this whole situation had gown so far out of his control and
that he didn't s~m capable of keeping his hands off her anymore.

Everything was happ~run so fast, he was having trouble keeping up with
all the changes.  He was, however, able to think clearly enough to warn
Grace McKay about some simple, basic facts that serried to have gotten
lost in this celebration they were having.

They hadn't proved anything yet, he told her.  All they had was a
pictur~ and a long-buried memory of a little girl calling out for her
older sister.

But Mrs.  McKay was as certain as Carolyn had b~n~ The girl in the
pictur~ that she refused to let go of was her Annie.

The older woman looked at him with absolute awe, as if he were some
sort of angel come down from heaven to grant her most sacred prayer.
Drew would never for~t ~the feeling of having her look at him this way,
of having redemed himself in this woman's eyes.  She didn't care who
his father was anymore, or what gutter his drnnl~n old man had landed
in.

She'd misjudged Drew all those years ago, and though she might never
come right out and say so, for her.

That, together with the early-morning hours he'd~ with Carolyn, had him
fe ding like a million dollars.  It as if a weight he'd carried all
these years lifted off his shoulders.

He felt amazingly free, felt something that serobled happiness on this
cold October morning

Illinois.

"You brought my baby home to me," Mrs.

still hugging the picture to her chest.  "I just can't it.

' '

Sally Tiler Hayes She took one of his hands in hers and squeezed it
tight.  The gesture surprised him.  And he thought she was asking for.
forgiveness in a way.  He hoped he had it in him to forgive her.

"When can we see her?"  Mrs.  McKay asked, turning to Carolyn.  "She's
in Chicago?  We could go today.  I can't... I can't wait to see her."

"Wait a minute," Drew said.  "We have to give this some time.  This
source of ours ... he's told us things he had no right to tell us.  We
can't just barge into this woman's life, and tell her she's Annie McKay
and her whole family's waiting to see her again."

"We can't see her?"  Mrs.  McKay looked crushed.  "It's a delicate
situation, and we have to be cautious," Drew said.  "Also, we've got to
think about this woman's emotional state.  From what she told our
source a few years back, she has no memory of her childhood beyond nine
or ten years ago.  Springing a whole family on her without any warning
or any preparation would likely be very difficult for her."

"You expect me to stay away from her?"  the older woman asked.

"For the moment, at least."

Carolyn came to stand beside him.  "What's Nick going to do, Drew?"

"He's going to try to talk to her today, to tell her that he thinks he
knows who she is; Then he's going to try to talk her into meeting with
the two of you.  And we'll want to do a DNA test, to check her blood
against your mother's, to be sure of who she is."

"So we can go this afternoon," Mrs.  McKay said.

"No, not until we hear from someone in Chicago that this woman's agreed
to all this," Drew said.

"But she's my little girl.  She's my Annie.  How can you expect me to
stay away from my own child?  To be two and a half hours away from her,
finally, after all these years, and not see her?"

Drew backed up a step.  He had a million things he could ~ have said
right then.  Uppermost in his mind was his son, and the fact that he
was in the identical position when it came to Billy.  He hadn't
recognized the irony in that until just now.

That particularly generous mood he'd been in all morning was' gone in
an instant.  Still, knowing that this wasn't the time or the place to
get into the subject with Grace McKay, he held his tongue.

And that was when Billy walked into the room.  Still rubbing the sleep
from his eyes, still in his pajamas, he came padding into the room in
his bare feet.  "Is it time to go to school yet?"

Drew couldn't hold back any longer.  He wasn't so much angry as
frustrated as hell.  He turned to Grace McKay, his back to Billy, and,
in a voice only she could hear, said, "Yeah, that's what I'm telling
you.  Your kid is right there, and you can't just go and see her.  You
can't reach out and touch her, hold her.  You might not be able to tell
her for a while that you're her mother.  And I don't know how long it
will be before any of that changes."

"Drew."  Carolyn tried to stop him, but it was too late.  "I've got to
get back to Chicago," he said.  "You all stay put.  I'll call you as
soon as I know something for sure.  I can't promise anything, but I'm
going to try to at least get to see the woman today, even if I can't
talk to her or tell her what's going on."

He turned and said goodbye to Billy, who had just realized he was there
and still remembered Drew's promise to show him his gun.

"Maybe this weekend," he said, daring Carolyn's mother to say anything
different.

It made him absolutely ache inside, but he didn't touch the boy at all,
didn't even ruffle his hair, which stuck up every which' way on his
head.

And he didn't have it in him to say anything to Carolyn.  She'd thought
all their problems were going to magically dissolve, now that they'd
found the woman who might be Annie.  But they weren't just going to
disappear, and he had to find a way to live with that.

Still, the irony was almost too much for him.  He'd found Annie.

It was an absolute miracle.

Yet in an instant, back there in that room, he'd seen that it wasn't
enough.  He still needed another miracle to make things right between
him and Carolyn and Billy.

Chapter 16

Her name was Allison Jennings, but everyone called her A. J. She had
short, sassy, almost white hair, the same color eyes as the little girl
in the red suit in that picture that had haunted Drew for ten years,
the same smile as the woman Drew loved.

Maybe he even saw a little of Billy in her.  Unfortunately, she didn't
want to see him.  The only reason he'd gotten into the same room with
her was that he'd flashed his credentials to the man at the shelter's
front desk and strolled on through like he owned the place, allegedly
looking for some missing kid from Peoria.  But all he'd really been
doing was checking A. J. out.

He hadn't gotten to talk to her.  He'd only seen her from across the
room, as she gave some kid hell for coming into her shelter with fresh
needle tracks in his arm.  Apparently she knew the kid, because she'd
taken it quite personally, and in this business you couldn't afford to
take every kid's troubles that personally.  Otherwise, you'd never
last.

Of course, he was a fine one to talk.  Look what he'd done with her
case.

Before he got a chance to talk to her, Nick Garrett had walked in and
spotted him.  If looks could kill, he'd have been six feet under by
suppertime, and he'd known it.  He'd left.

"You promised me," Nick roared at him later that evening.

"I'm sorry.  I wasn't going to say anything to her.  I just had to get
a look at her."

"And you will, when she's ready.  But until then, remember, you
promised me we'd take this all in good time, when she can handle it."

"I'm sorry, Nick.  But it's been ten days."

"And she was out of town for the first seven of those."

"Well, how long is it going to take?"

"I don't know.  I'm trying to talk to her, but she doesn't want to have
anything to do with this so-called family of hers.  For one thing, she
doesn't believe for a minute that she's related to these people: For
another, she claims she doesn't want to 'know anything about her past.
She says she's made her peace with it, and wants to leave it alone."

"Let me get this straight," Drew said.  "She knows she has a mother and
a sister a couple of hours from ~here, people who'd given her up for
dead ten years ago, and now she doesn't even want to see them?"

"She's been hurt, Drew.  Badly.  She won't even tell me how, exactly,
but I can promise you, it was' bad And she's not ready to face all that
yet."

"When is she going to be ready?"

"I'm working on her, but you've got to back off.  Remember, she has a
choice in this.  We can't force her to let these people into her
life."

True enough.  They couldn't force her into doing anything, but Drew
still.  had to try.  "Just a meeting, Nick.  A quick one.  Surely you
could get her to agree to see them.

After all, they've waited ten years.  In the last ten days, they found
out that by some miracle, she might still be alive, and now they're
caught in this limbo.  Tlfey're afraid to hope that it's true, but it's
impossible not to at least hope.  She's got to understand that.  "

"She's scared, Drew.  It's as simple and as complex as that.  She's
scared.  She had a family once mat least she thought she did--an dit
all turned out to be a big lie.  Now she's decided she's better off
alone. Believe me, I know all about this.  I'd like to be much more
than a friend and a sometime therapist for this woman, but she won't
even consider it."

"Oh."  So it was like that?  "Sorry, buddy.  I didn't realize.  I'll
stay away until I hear otherwise."

"And I'll try to arrange something.  It may not be wha~ Carolyn and her
mother would like, but I'll give it a shot."

Drew was more than a little nervoUs later that day, as he stood at the
door to Carolyn's apartment.  He'd been sitting at his desk not twenty
minutes ago, when Carolyn's mother called from Carolyn's place and
asked to speak to him:

He was sure it was about Annie, and he didn't have any answers for her.
He also didn't want to fight with her anymore, about anything.

~Determined not to do so, he knocked on the door.  Mrs.  McKay must
have been wait' rag for him, because she answered right away.  He noted
first that she seemed nervous, and that made him curious.  Quite
formally, she offered him a seat.  He sat.  She offered tea or coffee.
Even more intrigued by this attempt at civility where he was concerned,
he declined.

"I don't know where to start," Grace said.  "This ... it's going be
harder than

Billy and I

and we're about

Drew was speechless, and suddenly hopeful.  Hadn't Carolyn told him
there was always a reason to be hopeful?

"Carolyn's here, and she loves the area.  Annie's here, and even if she
isn't ready to get t9 know us yet, I want to be here when she is.  I
know that someday she'll want her family around her, and I... uh..."

"Go on," Drew urged.

"Billy and I have been lonely in Hope without his--without my husband.
And it's difficult to think about that awful man living right down the
road from us all these years.  I've driven down that road where he
lived so many times.  My husband used to work not far from there,
and... it's hard.  I think we're ready for a change, and we want to be
closer to our family again."

"That's it?"  he asked.

"No."  She shook her head.  "I did a lot of thinking about what you
said... when you were telling me that Annie was here and I couldn't see
her, that you didn't know when I could see her, if ever.  Knowing that
she was here, knowing that I had to stay away... it was one of the
hardest things I've ever dealt with.  And at least I can hope that it
won't last for long.  Ten days has already seemed like an eternity.

"And then I realized I've been doing the same to you where Billy's
concerned, and I was ashamed of myself.  It's hard for me to imagine
being so cruel to anyone."

That was one admission Drew hadn't thought he'd ever hear.

"I want you to understand," she continued, "or to try to understand,
that I love Billy.  I couldn't love him any more than I already do, and
I was so frightened at the idea of losing him.  These last few months,
since my husband died, he's become my whole world.  But then, I didn't
come here to make excuses for myself.  I just wanted you to know that
he's been loved and wanted and needed throughout the years.

"And when you came back~ I was sure you were going to take him away
from me.  But Carolyn's assured me that you wouldn't do that."

"I wouldn't hurt Billj, that way," he explained.

"I understand.  I don't want to hurt him, either, and I think some of
the things Carolyn's been telling me are finally sinking in.  She says
there's more than enough love in.  that little boy for all of us, and
she's right.  She said that letting him get to know you and to love you
wouldn't in any way take away from the love that Billy and I share.  I
know now, in my heart, he'll always he my son, and I'll always love
him.  But that doesfi't mean he can't ever be your son and Carolyn's,
as well.

"I think little boys need lots of people to love and trust and share
their lives with, and I think we can find a way to do that for Billy's
sake."

"What are you saying?  You're going to give him up?"

"I don't think I have to give him up, any more than you have to take
him away from me."

"You're willing to let him know that I'm his father?"

"Someday, I think he'll be ready to know that.  I think he'll need to
know that!  And whatever he decides to do then will be his choice.  I
won't stand in his way if he wants to live with the two of you, but I
was hoping that it wouldn't matter so much where he lived or who he
called his mother or his father.  I'd hoped we could all come together
in a big extended family where we all took care of each other.  Do you
think we could do that?"

"I don't know."  It sounded too good to be true.  And he still wasn't
sure what this woman was asking of him.

"I've misjudged you, from the very start, and I've been unkind.  I'm
sorry for that.  I think I knew from the start how strong Carolyn's
feelings for you were, and I worried that you were going to take her
away from us, especially after Annie died.  Still, that's no excuse for
what I've done."

Drew didn't know what to say or where this was going, and it must have
shown on his face, because Grace McKay smiled at him then.  She
reminded him of Carolyn and of Annie in that moment.  He didn't think
she'd ever smiled at him before.

"My daughter would like very much to marry you," she said.

That floored him.  He supposed he'd known it already, but hadn't
allowed himself to even think about it.  He tried to pull himself
together and contribute something to this conversation.  "And how do
you feel about that?"

"I could tell you that it would solve a lot of our problems quite
neatly.  If you married Carolyn, you'd he Billy's brother-in-law, at
least to start with.  You'd he part of the family.  You'd see him on a
regular basis.  He'd get a chance to know you.  It would be-a good
start But, of course, that's no reason to marry someone."

Not that he needed any other reason.

"Carolyn loves you," her mother told him.  "She's been lonely all these
years, and she ~ you?"

"I need her, too.  And I love her?"

"I know."  She stood then, and picked up he~ coat.  "I'll let you think
about it.  Maybe talk to her about it.  She's right across the street,
playing in the park with Billy.  I'll send her up."

Carolyn couldn't get to her apartment fast enough.  Her mother looked.
She wasn't sure she could have described it.  Five years younger came
to mind, but that didn't do justice to the change in Grace.  She
seemed.  hopeful.  And she'd been talking to Drew?

That part didn't fit at all.  j

"Drew," Carolyn called out when she opened the door.  Walking into the
empty apartment, she threw down her coat on the living room sofa.

"Out here."  She followed the sound of his voice to the narrow balcony
that ran along the far side of the apartment.

She walked outside and saw him leaning over the railing.  "What in the
world are you doing out here?"

"Watching you and Billy in the park."  He smiled.

"Oh," she said, nervous about that smile.  "My mother told me that~ you
two had a talk."

"We did."

"Well?"  Was she going to have to drag it out of him?  She hadn't been
able to get anything out of her mother at all.  "What did she say?"

"Your mother told me that you wanted to marry me."

"What?"

"That's what she said."

Carolyn stood there with her mouth open.  He was teasing her.

"You do want to marry me, don't you?"

"Drew Delaney, that is absolutely the most arrogant thing you have ever
said to me:" "I'm handling this badly."

"Yes, you are."

He had the nerve to laugh then, and take her by the arms.  "I'm sorry.
She just threw me.  Carolyn, she ... gave us her blessing.  That's the
only way I can think to describe it."

"My mother?"

"Yes.  She wants us to be one big happy family.  You, me, her, Billy
and Annie.  And... you do want to marry me, don't you?"

"You call that a proposal?"

"I'm handling this badly," he said again.

She nodded, the enormous implicationg of her mother's turnaround just
now starting to seep in.

The next thing she knew, Drew was down on one knee, smiling from ear to
ear.  "I love you, Carolyn McKay.  I always have.  I always will.  And
I'd be the happiest man in the world if you'd marry me."

She backed up a step and sat down hard on the edge of the chaise
longue.  "My knees," she said byway of explanation.  They'd simply
given out.

She had the strangest impression that she'd just finished an incredible
journey, one that she'd been sure she'd never be able to endure.  It
had taken forever.  It hod taken all her strength, all her faith.  It
had taken a miracle.  Actually, two of them.

They'd gotten a miracle--again.

It had seemed like too much even to hope for, but they had.

She reaehed out her hand, and he caught it.  His fingers laced their
way through hers, his other hand closing over the back of hers to hold
it in his grasp.

He was real.  She could feel him touching her.

"I love you, too, Drew."

"Then say yes," he said teasingly.

Epilogue

Carolyn sat in her office at Hope House two weeks later, amazed at how
rapidly her life had changed in so short a time.  ~

She had Drew's engagement ring on her.  finger now.  They would be
married soon.

They were traveling to Hope this weekend to help her mother and Billy
pack their things and move into the city.  The two would be staying at
Carolyn's apartment temporarily, until the four of them found someplace
else to live.  Carolyn thought a duplex in one of the suburbs would be
perfect for starters.

All she needed now was her little sister, who still expressed a strange
reluctance to meet with them or even to consider the possibility that
she might be Annie McKay.

But Nicholas Garrett was working on her, and he'd said the strangest
thing yesterday, something about sending-Annie to her, to be ready and
be prepared not to give herself away.

A brief knock sounded at her door, and Carolyn looked up, expecting to
find her secretary, but saw Drew standing in the doorway instead.  "Hi.
I wasn't expecting you until lunchtime.  What's up?"

He leaned across the desk and kissed her.  "Nick told me to get over
here."

"Why?"  She got up from her chair and went to give him a real kiss.

"He didn't say.  Are you expecting him?"

"I'm not expecting anyone but you."

He laughed.  God, she loved to hear him laugh.  "That sounds
promising," he said, kissing her again.  And then she heard her
secretary buzz her.  "Carolyn?"

"Yes, Julie."

"There's someone here to see you about the in-house director's job at
the runaway shelter."

"We haven't even advertised it yet, have we?"  Her live-in director was
leaving to take a year's fellowship to study in Boston; and she was
happy for him, but dreading the task of filling that job, particularly
on a temporary basis.  Rick had done wonders at the shelter.

"The ad should come out tomorrow," Julie explained.  "But this woman
says Dr.  Garrett sent her over."

"

Carolyn wasn't smiling anymore.  She grabbed Drew's hand.  They looked
at each Other, no doubt both thinking the same thing.

Nick had said he would send Annie to them.

"He wouldn't," she said.  "Not like this."

"He told me she had a degree in counseling, and that she worked at one
of the shelters in the city."

"I'm not .... It sounds crazy to say I'm not ready, when we've been
hounding Nick to let us see her.  But I'm not ready."  '

"Sit down," he said, guiding her back to the chair behind the desk,
then sitting down on the edge of it.  "You can do this.  Last.  night
you told me you couldn't stand to wait another day to finally see
her."

"Carolyn?"  her secretary repeated.  "What do you want me to do?"

Draw leaned over and pressed the intercom button on the phone to answer
for her.  "Send her in, Julie."  Carolyn gasped.

"You can do this," he assured her.

"I know, but ... we don't have any proof, not really.  And we both know
that nothing short of a miracle could ever bring Annie back to us."

A knock sounded on the door.  "I can't help it, Drew.  What if it isn't
her?"

"Come in," he said to the woman behind the closed door, and then there
was no time left to worry.

Carolyn was glad she was sitting down, glad that Drew was here beside
her holding her hand.  She watched the door swing open, watched as this
girl--she definitely looked more like a girl than a young woman--walked
into the room, stood directly in front of her and held out her hand.

"Hi, I'm A.J."

Carolyn looked at the.  white-blond hair, hair that re~ minded her of
Billy's when he was a baby, looked at the deep blue eyes, the smile
that held for an instant, then started to falter when Carolyn didn't
respond.

Drew responded first.  He shook the hand she'd offered.  "Drew Delaney.
It's nice to meet you."

The young woman shook his hand, then, clearly puzzled, turned back to
Carolyn.  "I'm sorry about the mixup with the appointment, Nick told me
he'd arranged everything, but your secretary didn't have any idea I was
coming so } guess you didn't, either.  I can come back ... if this
isn't a good time."

"No, don't go.~' Carolyn wasn;t about to let her go anywhere.  And she
finally managed to get to her feet and extend her hand.  In a way, she
was afraid to touch her, afraid that this was all some impossible dream
that could never come true.

Carolyn watched as, seemingly in slow motion, Annie's hand came out to
meet hers.  Drew's arm closed around her back, holding her up when she
wouldn't have been able to manage on her own.

Their palms met.  Annie's fingers clasped hers.  Something burst open
inside Carolyn, some wellspring of emotion that threatened-to choke her
all over again.  Tears filled her eyes, and she had to take back her
hand to brush them away.

"Is this a bad time?"  the girl asked.  "I can come back.  It's no
trouble."

I'll be fine," Carolyn said, looking to Drew for help.  She didn't
think she could pull this off.  She was too overwhelmed.  This young
woman... she would swear this was her sister.

"We just got some news," he said.  "Family things..."  '"I hope
nothing's wrong."

"No," Carolyn said, desperate to make her stay.  "Everything's fine.
I'm just relieved.  And ... I'm so happy, I've forgotten all my
manners.  Please sit down."

The young woman sat.  Carolyn was grateful to be able to sit, as well.
"So," she said, happy just to be in the same room with her.  "Nick sent
you?"

"He said your shelter director was leaving."  Thankfully, that was
true.  Carolyn couldn't believe her luck on that point.  She couldn't
believe she was sitting here in this room talking to her little
sister.

 "and you'd like to work at Hope House?"

Drew placed his hand on Carolyn's shoulder and gave it a gentle
squeeze.  She caught his eye, returned his smile, and read his mind.

Miracles did happen.