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  She sat up straighter in her seat, her eyes clearing. “I’m on a stakeout.”

  He looked down at the packaged food at his feet. “Impossible. This can’t be a real stakeout. The food is all wrong.”

  She glanced down at the packaged food and wrappers at his feet. “What are you talking about?”

  He leaned his seat back as if settling in for a long night, and, despite the falling darkness outside the windows, he saw her eyes narrow. “If you want to do a stakeout right, then you have to have a sack of greasy burgers and a couple bags of potato chips. You want donuts and cupcakes and about a case of soda on ice.”

  “You’re going to die before you’re forty if that’s the way you eat all the time.”

  “And you’re going to get yourself in a lot of trouble if you keep interfering with an official investigation,” he replied.

  “I’m not interfering in anything,” she said coolly. “I’m just parked on a city street. Last I heard there was no law about that.”

  “You’re playing with fire, Roxy. What if Edward Cardell is a serial killer or the sexual deviant you said he might be? Haven’t you considered how dangerous it might be for you to confront him here all alone?”

  Their conversation halted as a car pulled into the driveway at the house next door to Edward’s. Steve was out of the car in an instant. He’d tried several times throughout the day to contact one of Edward’s neighbors but had found nobody home.

  He was vaguely aware of Roxy also getting out of the car as he raced across the street and down the sidewalk to catch up with the man who had just exited his car.

  “Sir,” he called as he fumbled for his identification. “Detective Steve Kincaid. Can I ask you a few questions?”

  The man, who appeared to be in his forties, frowned with a touch of concern in his eyes. “Am I in trouble for something? Is my family okay?”

  “As far as I know, your family is fine,” Steve assured him. “And, no, you aren’t in trouble. This isn’t about you. It’s about your neighbor, Edward Cardell.” By that time, Roxy had joined Steve’s side.

  “Eddie? What about him?”

  “Do you know where he is?” Roxy asked.

  “Pretend she isn’t here,” Steve said with a quick stern glance of aggravation at the woman next to him. Couldn’t she just let him do his job? “Do you know where Eddie is?”

  “He left Friday to go up in the mountains to a friend’s cabin.”

  “Do you know the name of his friend?” Roxy asked.

  The young man looked helplessly from Roxy to Steve. Steve stifled a sigh, knowing that it was impossible to rein in Roxy. He nodded to give permission to answer her question.

  “Sorry, I don’t. I think it belongs to somebody he used to work with at the post office, or maybe an old army buddy. I know the guy who owns it doesn’t live here in town.”

  “Does Eddie go to the cabin frequently?” Steve asked.

  The man shrugged. “Maybe once a month or so, when the weather permits.”

  “And how long does he usually stay gone?”

  “Anywhere from three to five days.”

  “When was the last time you saw him?” Roxy asked. The energy that vibrated from her was a physical entity pressing against Steve.

  The neighbor frowned thoughtfully. “It would have been Thursday night. He always comes by and asks me to keep an eye on his place while he’s gone. I imagine he got up before the crack of dawn to leave for the cabin on Friday. What’s this about? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “Did he mention taking a woman with him to the cabin?” Roxy took a step closer to the man. Steve grabbed her by her arm and pulled her back.

  “He didn’t mention anything about a woman, but we weren’t real buddies like that. I mean, we’re good neighbors and chat occasionally but not much about personal stuff. I’m not expecting him back before Monday or Tuesday.”

  “And there’s nothing else you can tell us about the location of the cabin?” Steve asked.

  He shook his head. “Sorry. I really have no idea where it’s at other than someplace up in the mountains. I know it’s not too far, less than an hour, and Eddie has mentioned that he likes the isolation of the place.”

  A perfect place for romance...or murder, Steve thought. As he took down the contact information of the neighbor, Rex Donner, he could only guess what thoughts were shifting through Roxy’s head.

  He took her arm to lead her back to her car. When they reached it, he opened the driver’s door and she got inside. “There’s no point in a stakeout tonight,” he told her.

  Her eyes were filled with emotion in the illumination from a nearby streetlamp. “I have to do something, but I don’t know what to do.”

  Steve hesitated a moment. “Why don’t we go back to your place and you can make us some coffee? Meanwhile I’ll contact the appropriate authorities to find out what kind of vehicle Edward drives, and we’ll get a BOLO out on it.”

  “A BOLO?”

  “Be on the lookout,” he explained. “If the vehicle is spotted by any law enforcement, it will be stopped and he’ll be detained. I’ll follow you to your place,” he said and closed her door before she could protest.

  He shouldn’t be following her home. He shouldn’t be spending any time with her whatsoever. She couldn’t help advance the investigation—in truth, she could only screw things up acting as a lone wolf without any direction.

  However, he felt her need to be a part of it. He understood her desire not to be at home alone, where horrible thoughts might intrude and the unknown could create all kinds of terrifying scenarios.

  Been there, done that.

  She shouldn’t be left alone. Why wasn’t she with her sisters? Why wasn’t her family gathered together to gain strength from each other and wait for whatever answers might come?

  This was the time when family support was vital. Steve would have never survived his own personal heartache if not for his parents’ support two years ago. There were still days he wasn’t sure he’d completely survived.

  He parked behind Roxy at the rear of the restaurant and joined her at the back door as she unlocked it and gestured him inside. Once in, she locked the door behind them.

  “Why aren’t you with your sisters?” he asked curiously.

  “Because I’m not.” Her tone indicated she didn’t want to pursue that particular topic of conversation.

  He was surprised when, instead of leading him into one of the public dining areas, she took him up two flights of stairs to her personal living quarters.

  As they passed the second floor, he glanced in the open doorway and saw that it was a storage area, a jumbled mess filled with boxes and bins and extra tables and chairs. He assumed Roxy’s living space would mirror the Victorian flare of the dining rooms and was surprised when he stepped into the sleek, contemporary space.

  He knew instinctively that the cool, almost Spartan, surroundings were a glimpse of the real Roxy—controlled, without clutter or too many personal effects.

  “Have a seat,” she said and gestured him toward the sofa. “I’ll put on the coffee and be right back.”

  As she disappeared from his sight, he fought a need to check and make sure she wasn’t crawling out a window to escape him and continue her personal crusade to find her aunt. He reminded himself that they were on the third floor of the building; there was no way she could escape through a window.

  While she was gone, he called the station and spoke to the lieutenant on duty to set in motion finding out the make and model of Edward Cardell’s vehicle and to put out the BOLO on the vehicle.

  First thing in the morning he’d try to hunt up friends of Cardell to see if anyone knew where the cabin was located.

  There was still no evidence that Liz was with Cardell, either willingl
y or by force. There was no solid proof that any kind of crime had taken place.

  But with each hour that passed without word from Liz, a knot pressed harder in the pit of Steve’s stomach that made him believe something criminal might have occurred in that kitchen.

  He hoped like hell that Liz was on some romantic getaway and had uncharacteristically decided to stay incommunicado with her family.

  As he waited for Roxy to return, he looked around the room more closely, noting the bits and pieces that spoke of the woman who lived there. A black bookcase held a small flat-screen television, several cookbooks by famous chefs and a handful of framed photos of Roxy and her sisters and aunt.

  He’d like to take a peek into her bedroom, to see what he could glean about her from the way it was furnished, the things she chose to surround her. But he didn’t want to snoop, and, besides, he didn’t care who she was in her heart because it didn’t matter. Once Liz was found, he’d go back to being a customer at her restaurant and nothing more.

  He frowned and gazed toward the kitchen. It seemed to be taking a long time to make coffee, and he heard no rattle of cups, nothing to indicate she was even there.

  A fire escape. Hadn’t he noticed an iron fire escape leading from the top floor to the ground level on the outside of the building?

  Damn, had she escaped with some other scheme in mind? He jumped up off the sofa and raced into the kitchen. He screeched to a halt in the doorway when he saw her, seated at a black wooden table, her head down and her shoulders shaking as she silently cried into the cradle of her arms.

  Chapter 6

  She’d been just fine as she’d fixed the coffee and pulled two light blue mugs from the cabinet. She’d been completely under control as she’d gotten out the sugar and creamer, unable to remember how Steve drank his coffee.

  But as the fragrant brew had begun to drip into the awaiting carafe and she’d thought about her sisters and missing aunt, she’d lost it.

  She’d lost it in a way she never had before. She’d always been so strong. She’d always made things right for her sisters. Tears had always been alien to her. Until she’d lost Aunt Liz. Unable to stop the sobs that racked through her entire body, she’d made her way to the table and lowered her head.

  Knowing Steve was in the next room, she’d wept as quietly as possible. She didn’t want him to see her this way. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this...so weak and vulnerable.

  She had to pull it together, to be the tough Roxy that everyone knew, that everyone depended on, but she’d found it impossible to staunch the weeping that felt as if it had been bottled up inside her for a hundred years.

  She jerked upward when she felt the soft touch on her shoulder. Her watery gaze met Steve’s, whose eyes held nothing but soft concern.

  “Roxy,” he said as she quickly swiped her cheeks, horrified that he’d come into the kitchen, that he’d seen her like this.

  “I’m sorry. I’m fine,” she said quickly. “What are you doing in here?”

  He sat across from her at the small table. “It seemed to be taking a long time for the coffee to be ready. I was afraid you might have used the fire escape to run out on me.”

  She knew he was trying to make her smile, but tears continued to leak from her eyes.

  “Roxy, why are you going through this all alone? Why aren’t you and your sisters together? This should be a time when you’re drawing support from each other.”

  “Sheri and Marlene probably are together,” she managed to say as she finally got control of her tears. “I can’t see them right now. I can’t see them until everything is right again, until Aunt Liz is back home safe and sound.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed impatiently, thinking that he should somehow understand and yet knowing it was unfair to expect him to. He couldn’t know the role she’d taken on so long ago, the role of protector as the older sister. “I promised them I’d fix things, and things aren’t fixed yet.”

  She got up to pour the coffee, aware of his gaze lingering on her. When she’d filled the two mugs, she returned to the table and set one of them in front of him.

  She sat back down and curled her fingers around her mug, seeking the heat to warm the spaces inside her that had been icy cold since she’d realized her aunt was missing.

  He took a sip of coffee, his gaze locked on her over the rim of his cup. “Have you always been the one who takes care of things for your sisters?”

  “Yes, ever since I was seven years old and Ramona dropped off three-year-old Marlene and me at my aunt’s house, and then a year later dropped off Sheri, who was just a couple weeks old.”

  “So your mother considered her older sister’s home a safe house to drop off the children she had whom she couldn’t take care of?”

  “I felt like we were more like UPS deliveries, but yes.” As Roxy thought of the mother who she’d spent the first seven years of her life with, a hard knot of anger fisted in her chest. “I helped raise Marlene and Sheri, and I was always grateful that they didn’t remember what life was like before Aunt Liz’s house.”

  “Because you remember.” His eyes held a gentle appeal she found unsettling because she wanted to fall into those blue depths and not have the conversation that was happening.

  She sighed and took a sip of her coffee. “Yes, I remember life with Ramona, and it was the scariest place a child could ever be.”

  She wanted to run from the horrible memories, hide from the pain and the trauma of those first years. Aunt Liz had saved her, had humanized her when she’d been little more than an animal just trying to survive.

  “I think I’ve always been closer to Aunt Liz. I’ve always appreciated her more than Sheri and Marlene because of the first seven years of my life.” She forced herself to go there, back in time. She wasn’t sure why she needed Steve to understand where she had come from, but she thought it might make him realize just how much she needed her aunt to be found.

  As if Steve knew how difficult the conversation was for her, he reached out and covered one of her hands with his. “Talk to me, Roxy,” he said gently.

  Although she knew she should pull her hand from his, she didn’t. The simple connection made her feel safe, at least for the moment, and she relished the feeling.

  “My first real memory is of me sitting on Ramona’s lap after she’d shot up heroin and had nodded off. I was probably three or so, and I couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t wake up. We were in some sort of abandoned building with a bunch of other dope addicts, and I was scared and hungry.”

  She paused to take another drink as his hand tightened over hers. “That was pretty much the sum of my life with Ramona...abandoned buildings or crack houses, running from a landlord or an abusive boyfriend and living like an animal. I think she finally dropped me off at Aunt Liz’s house when her newest boyfriend showed more of an interest in me than in her.”

  “Jeez, Roxy, I’m so sorry.” Gone was the usual flirtatious spark in his eyes, replaced by the light of compassion.

  “Men were my mother’s downfall. She always chose their wants, their needs over her own, and they always wound up being creeps and abusers. Anyway, I survived, but I have to admit, Aunt Liz had her hands full with me. I hoarded food in an old backpack just in case Ramona came back to get me. I had no manners, no understanding of what normal was, but Aunt Liz never lost patience with me. She loved me like I’d never been loved before.”

  She squeezed Steve’s hand painfully tight. “And don’t you see? That’s why we have to find her. She saved me, and now I’m so afraid she’s in trouble and I need to save her.” She released his hand and got to her feet, frantically seeking something to do, somewhere to go to find the missing woman.

  “Roxy, come back and sit down and finish your coffee,” Steve said. “There’s nothing that can be d
one tonight. I’ve set in motion everything I can to find Cardell and the cabin where he’s gone.”

  “What if she isn’t with him? What if she’s someplace else?” She returned to the table and once again sank down in the chair.

  “Then we’ll do everything we can to find her, and by we I don’t mean you and me. I mean the police department.” He took another sip of his coffee and then leaned back in his chair and eyed her thoughtfully.

  “If you want to do something to help, then I suggest you get together with your sisters and make some posters to hang around town. Keep talking to her friends. Check out the places she would go in town. See if you can find out if anyone saw her Friday morning when she should have been delivering the baked goods to your shop.”

  “I’ve already done that,” she said, thinking of all the people she’d called on Friday afternoon and evening.

  “Then walk the streets and ask more questions. There are a lot of people in this town, some who might have a relationship with your aunt that you know nothing about. You didn’t know anything about Edward Cardell. It’s possible there are other things you don’t know.”

  She wanted to protest, to declare that Liz didn’t keep secrets from the women she considered her daughters, but that obviously wasn’t true. Edward Cardell had been a secret, and it frightened Roxy to think there could be more things she didn’t know about Liz.

  “Roxy, I’m sure your sisters don’t expect you to personally find your aunt. You all need to band together, to help each other through this trying time.”

  “You don’t understand.” Once again she felt the burn of tears in her eyes. God, for somebody who had prided herself on never crying, she seemed to be doing it a lot lately. “I am their strength, and right now I don’t feel strong. I can’t let them see me so afraid. It will only frighten them more than they already are.”

  “And you think I’m arrogant,” he said with a lift of one of his blond eyebrows.

  “I do,” she said without apology. “But what does that have to do with me?”

  “You’re so arrogant, you don’t think anyone else can be strong but you. You don’t believe you might be able to draw some strength from your sisters, that they might be able to help you as much as you can help them.”