Her Sister (Search For Love series) (11 page)

"Oh,
Amanda."

"You
know a foundation funds Gillian and her partner.  She still helps even if
someone can't pay daily expenses."

"Rich
people donate and pay her salary."  He checked his watch.  "I just
want to make those airline reservations."

"Don't
close down on me, Max.  Haven't you done that enough over the years?"

"So
now it's another guilt trip?"

Amanda
sighed.  "No, but I'll use whatever I can to get you to try every avenue. 
We're not going to let what happened to Lynnie happen to Shara."

At that
moment, Max looked weary, as if all these past years of searching drew lines in
his face at the same time.  He closed his eyes, opened them again and then maybe
really saw her for the first time in years.

"All
right, call Gillian Bradley.  But don't expect too much out of it, Amanda.  She
might be too busy to even consider helping us.  She might not even be searching
for missing persons any more."

That
was possibly true, but Amanda didn't think so.  Gillian had a gift and if
Amanda had read her right, she wouldn't put it aside if she could help others.

****

Joe had
brought take-out from Happy Family, the Chinese restaurant downtown.  He said
seriously, "I know no one's thinking about food, or thinking they want any
food, but believe me, you've all got to keep your strength up."  He
carried the bags to the kitchen table and Clare followed him.

"You
didn't have to do this."

"I
know.  I wanted to."

He
looked at her as if he wanted to bring her more than lunch, and Clare couldn't
deal with that right now, so she looked away.

But he
wasn't the type of man to allow that.  After setting the bags on the table, he
came close and lifted her chin, forcing their gazes to meet.  "Don't shut
me out.  You need a friend right now."

"A
friend?"

"We'll
discuss what we're going to be after this is all over," he decided.

"Will
it be all over?  It never has been with my sister."

"Ah,
Clare, you have to think positive."

"I'm
trying.  And we did find something."  She told him about their search,
Branches
,
and the e-mails her father had unearthed.  "Mom and Dad are flying to
Albuquerque.  I don't know what to do.  They say I should stay here.  And I
wonder what they're going to be able to do
there
?"

"I
think since your sister was taken, all three of you have tried to stand on your
own, haven't you?"

"I
had
to stand on my own.  My parents weren't there for me while I was
growing up.  They weren't there for me when I got pregnant."

"Did
they want to be?"

Joe
asked the difficult questions.  Maybe her parents had wanted to be her support,
and she'd been too defiant and resentful to let them.

"Even
if I accept their help, I don't know if they're going to accept each other's. 
Sure, they have a common goal, but that old tension is still there between
them.  It started the night Lynnie disappeared and it's always been there.  It
contributed to their divorce.  And now—"

"Now,
they have a common goal again," he said.

"But
that won't change who they are.  That won't change how they feel about what
happened in the past.  I learned today that Dad started drinking after Lynnie
disappeared, and that's one of the reasons he and Mom divorced."

"Is
he drinking now?"

"No. 
Maybe that's why Mom has insisted she's going with him, so he doesn't.  I don't
know."

Stepping
closer, keeping his eyes on hers, he took her by the shoulders.  "You
can't solve your parents' problems, but you can let them help you.  You can be
here for Shara.  You've got to keep the best possible outlook on this, not the
worst, and you'll be able to keep in touch with your parents to know what's
happening every step of the way.  That's what cell phones and texting are for,
right?"

Thinking
about it, Clare found herself biting her lower lip, feeling younger than she
was, feeling uncertain about everything.

"Your
parents probably don't know how much they hurt you.  Have you ever told
them?"

She'd
let a little of that come out today.  Still … "How could I tell them when
they were hurting so badly because Lynnie was gone.  I let some of my feelings
slip today.  They seemed shocked, actually shocked.  Are they really so
clueless?"

"They're
human, Clare.  They've tried to do their best, but that just wasn't enough with
you.  You have to decide if you're going to forgive them and move out of this,
or if you're always going to hold bitterness toward them."

She saw
the look in his eyes and the road she should take.  "You're going to tell
me bitterness is only going to hurt
me
, not them."

"No,
I’m not.  It will hurt all of you."

His
eyes were so kind and compassionate that she found tears coming to hers. 
Blinking hard, she tried to turn away.  But instead of letting her, he pulled
her into a hug and he held her tight.

****

"Mrs.
Bradley, I don't know if you remember me.  I'm Amanda Thaddeus.  My husband and
I met with you about trying to find our daughter Lynnie."  In spite of her
efforts to stay calm, Amanda's voice shook.

"Of
course, I remember you.  I wasn't able to help you.  Please, call me Gillian."

"I
hope it's okay that I called your home number rather than the foundation's
number.  You had given it to me and—"

Home
for Gillian Bradley was near L.A.  Amanda remembered the Spanish house in the
hills, the welcoming feel of it when she and Max had traveled there.

"This
number's fine.  Has something happened?  Have you gotten a lead?"

"Actually
we have.  We don't know if anything will come of it, but that's not why I'm
calling.  My granddaughter has run away.  We don't know why, but she made a
friend on-line through
Branches
, and we think she's gone to visit him in
Albuquerque.  We don't know anything else.  We're trying to trace his IP
because they e-mailed back and forth, but we want to find her before something
happens to her.  Can you help?"

When there
wasn't an immediate response, Amanda said, "We're flying to Albuquerque as
soon as we can get a flight.  The police are on this, but, well, you know how I
feel about that."

"What's
your granddaughter's name?"

"It's
Shara—Shara Thaddeus.  Clare was never married."

"If
I remember correctly, your husband wasn't too keen on enlisting my help the
first time."

"He's
my ex-husband," Amanda reminded her, "And he really has no choice
this time.  I'm not going to sit by without doing everything I can."

"Shara,"
Gillian said thoughtfully.

Amanda
had no idea whether Gillian was considering helping them or not.  Did she get a
feeling just from a name?  "Can we send you something?  Do I need to come
see you?"  That's what they'd done before.  She'd taken along clothes of Lynnie's
that she'd packed away.

"Albuquerque's
on my side of the country.  Can you give me a few minutes to call my husband? 
I'll check out his schedule.  I also want to talk to my partner, Jake
Donovan."

Amanda
remembered Jake.  He was a private investigator who did background and research
work for Gillian.  "Do you want me to hold on?" Amanda asked,
hopefully.  She couldn't take the chance that Gillian wouldn't call her back.

"No,
I have your number from Caller ID.  I'll give you a call back in about fifteen
minutes.  I promise, Amanda, no longer."

There
was something in Gillian Bradley's voice that made Amanda believe her.

Fifteen
minutes later, Amanda knew what flight they were taking to Albuquerque and the
hotel where they'd be staying.

Max
asked her, "So you really expect her to call back in fifteen
minutes?"

Those fifteen
minutes were almost up, but then—

Her
cell phone beeped.  She saw Gillian's number and gave Max a satisfied nod. 
"Hello," she said, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.  What
if Gillian Bradley wouldn't help?

"There
are many ways to handle this," Gillian said, "But I think the best is
for me to meet you in Albuquerque.  When will you be arriving?"

Amanda
told her.  They were scheduled to arrive there that evening.

"Have
you found a hotel?" Gillian asked.

Amanda
gave her that information.

"I
have a friend, a TV producer, who has access to a charter service and a private
jet.  I'll make reservations at the hotel."

"You
don't know how much I appreciate this!"

"It's
what I do, Amanda.  I want you to bring some things of Shara's—clothes,
jewelry, maybe a pair of shoes, and a picture, perhaps one of when she was
small and one of her now.  Can you do that?"

"Of
course, I can."

"Let
me give you my cell number.  Is the phone you've been calling me on your
cell?"

Gillian
covered all the bases and Amanda was glad for that because she was feeling
scattered.  "Yes."

"Good. 
Give me a call after you arrive so we can meet up.  Does that work for
you?"

"That
works perfectly.  Thank you."

"No
thanks necessary.  Your daughter's case and my inability to help you has been a
regret I haven't been able to forget.  I'll see you soon."

As she
ended the call, Amanda said a fervent prayer that Gillian would be able to help
them this time.

****

Chapter
Seven

For
some reason as Amanda walked through Albuquerque International Sunport with
Max, she began to feel less depressed.  The airport was one of
the most artistic and pleasant
airports she'd ever been in.  Southwest colors, the tile, sculpture hanging
from the ceiling and the artwork all around lifted her spirits.  She and Max
hadn't talked much at all on the drive to BWI airport, on the first flight to
Dallas, on the second flight to Albuquerque.  Max always withdrew when he was
thinking or upset or nervous. 
She
liked to talk everything to death. 
At first that had worked well for them.  She drew him out, encouraged him to
listen.  She'd learned to read body language rather than words, to look into
his eyes and learn his truth.  They'd even enjoyed silent communication because
they'd known each other's hearts and souls.

But now
they avoided each other's gazes as they took the shuttle to the rental car
facility, as she insisted on taking care of her own bag.  They rented a
mid-sized sedan with a GPS and Amanda figured out how to enter the hotel's
address into it as Max headed in the right direction.  He'd always been good at
the logistics of traveling.

At the
hotel, they didn't need a bellboy to handle their luggage with only two
roll-ons.  Amanda knew how to pack light for her antique buying trips.  So Max
opened the door with his keycard and they entered a small suite.

"You
can have the bedroom."  Motioning to the sitting area with its sofa, chair
and TV, he said, "I'll sleep on the pull out."

She wasn't
going to argue with him.  He was in that kind of mood.

There
was a balcony off the living room area with sliding glass doors that led
outside.  After she rolled her suitcase into her bedroom and lifted it onto the
bed, she took out her cell phone and seemed to gravitate toward that outside
terrace.  Opening the door, she stepped outside and was greeted by the most
beautiful sight in the distance, the Sandia Mountains.  They looked pink in the
end-of-the-day sunlight as dusk was closing in.  Already she liked this city,
without knowing exactly why.  If she told Max how she felt, he'd scoff.  So as
she had over the past years, she kept her thoughts to herself as she called
Gillian's number.  Five minutes later she reluctantly walked back inside.  Max
was already putting on a pot of coffee to brew.

"Are
you hungry?" he asked.

"Gillian
will be here in five minutes.  We don't have time to eat."

He
motioned to the complimentary snacks on the counter.  "There are some
power bars there.  That might hold you over until we can call room service, or
grab something in a restaurant."

"I'm
not—"

"Don't
say it, Amanda.  I know you don't want to eat when you're upset.  But you have
to.  You have to keep up your strength for whatever happens next."

Always
the pragmatist.

As if
he could read her thoughts, he said, "What else can I do but be
practical?  We're about to meet with a psychic.  I need something to balance
that."

She
almost smiled a little...almost.

Max
hefted his suitcase onto the luggage holder near the closet.  He'd brought a
larger one to fit in everything they'd thrown in of Shara's.  Amanda had
insisted on bringing more rather than less, intending to help Gillian in
whatever way she could.