many others—was amazing. Sometimes Abby wondered how they did it, these mothers. How they managed to hold on the way they did.
“She shouldn’t be here,” Abby murmured.
“I know, but she had to get out of the house for a while. She needs to feel a part of the search even in a small way. Besides, there’s a deputy sitting by her telephone.”
“But if the abductor calls, he’ll want to speak to her,” Abby warned.
“All right. I’ll drive her home. Just give her a few more minutes, okay?”
Abby nodded. They both knew that at this point, it wasn’t likely the abductor would call anyway, but nothing could be left to chance. “How’s she holding up?”
Naomi shrugged. “She’s coping. What choice does she have? But I don’t think she’s completely grasped the situation yet. About the anniversary, I mean.”
Emily Campbell had vanished from the same school playground ten years to the day that Sadie had disappeared. If the same person who took Sadie had also abducted Emily, then Emily’s fate could be the same as well.
“Try not to jump to conclusions,” Abby said. “We don’t know anything yet. And ten years is a long time.”
“I keep telling myself it could all be just some sort of horrible coincidence.” Naomi ran a hand through her short hair. Even in her exhaustion, she still looked beautiful. She was still the big sister Abby had idolized all her life. And she was still enduring pain that was as fresh as the day her daughter had disappeared ten years ago.
Naomi glanced back at Tess Campbell. “I know better than anyone the hell she’s going through right now. The terror she’s feeling. And the guilt. The unspeakable things that keep running through her mind. But at the same time…” Naomi’s eyes were anguished when she turned back to Abby. “I keep thinking this is the first break we’ve had since Sadie disappeared. We may finally have a chance to find out what happened to my baby.”
“Naomi—”
“Oh, I know. After all this time, I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Besides, I feel so guilty for even thinking such a thing. It’s Emily we have to concentrate on. It’s Emily we have to find.”
“But you can’t help thinking about Sadie.” Abby took her sister’s hand. “She’s been on my mind, too. Ever since I first got the call about Emily.”
“Ten years,” Naomi said in a near whisper. She clung to Abby’s hand. “Ten years, and I still can’t help believing she’s out there somewhere. I still can’t help hoping that somehow we’ll find her, that someday she’ll come back home to us.”
Abby had never given up that hope, either, in spite of the realities she dealt with in her job. That hope was one of the reasons she’d joined law enforcement after college. It was one of the reasons she’d stayed in Eden when moving to a city would have afforded her more opportunities. She couldn’t bring herself to leave so long as the questions surrounding her niece’s disappearance went unanswered. If she left, Abby knew, it would be the same as giving up. It would be like losing all hope. There was no way she could ever do that to her sister.
But there had been nothing she could do for Naomi when Sadie had disappeared, and Abby felt that same sense of helplessness welling inside her now.
Glancing at her watch, she noted the time. It was just after three. The kindergarten class at Fairhaven Academy had already been dismissed for the day. She pictured the children in their little school uniforms lining up to go home or running about the playground. They would be laughing, talking, carefree. So very innocent. Like Sadie and Emily had once been.
Tears stung Abby’s eyes, and for a moment, she felt an almost overwhelming need to rush to that school, to make certain each child returned safely to his or her mother’s waiting arms.
But she had a job to do here, and for now all she could do was send up a silent prayer, a fervent hope, that there would be no more abductions. That a higher power than she was watching over Eden’s children.
FIVE-YEAR-OLD Sara Beth Brodie stood in line behind her kindergarten classmates at Fairhaven Academy and folded her arms in disgust. She hated Wednesdays. Hated them so much she could just bust.
Why did there even have to be such a thing as a Wednesday anyhow? It was a stupid, stupid, stupid day. She’d crossed them all off the calendar at home with a big black marker, but it didn’t seem to matter because she still had to go stay with her daddy today.
That’s what happened when your parents got divorced, her friend, Brittney, had told her. You had to spend part of the time with your mama and part of the time with your daddy.
Sara Beth didn’t care for the arrangement at all. She wanted things to be the way they used to be except without all the fighting. Without all the screaming and threats.
She stared sullenly at the back of Christopher McMillan’s head and thought about pulling his hair. Just giving it a good hard yank for no other reason than because she was mad and Christopher was standing in line in front of her.
But he was such a crybaby. He’d make a big fuss, and Miss Sheridan, who ran the school, might even call Sara Beth’s daddy.
Sara Beth hesitated, thinking about what her daddy might do. Sometimes she almost hated him, but she knew she was a very bad girl for thinking such a thing.
“Stop it!” Christopher complained loudly. He turned around and glared at Sara Beth.
“Stop what? I didn’t do nuthin’,” she defended.
“You didn’t do anything,” Miss Sheridan, who seemed to appear from nowhere, corrected.
“I know,” Sara Beth agreed solemnly. “I didn’t.”
“She did, too! She pulled my hair!”
“Did not.”
“Did, too!”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”
Miss Sheridan took Sara Beth by the arm and pulled her aside. She knelt, until her face was even with Sara Beth’s. “What seems to be your problem? I heard you were acting up in class again today.”
“Is anything wrong?” Miss Wilder, Sara Beth’s kindergarten teacher, came up behind Miss Sheridan.
The director turned and said sharply, “Everything is under control, Miss Wilder. Perhaps you should tend to the rest of your students.”
A brief frown touched Miss Wilder’s features, then she glanced down and gave Sara Beth a soft smile before returning to the other students.
The way Miss Sheridan spoke to Miss Wilder made Sara Beth angry. Miss Wilder was her favorite teacher. She was young and pretty and she wore blue jeans and funny T-shirts to school. Sometimes she sat with Sara Beth at recess and told her stories about when she was a little kid. About being lonely. Sara Beth wasn’t sure she understood everything Miss Wilder talked about, but the time they spent together always made her feel good inside. Made her forget about all the fights her daddy and mama had been having lately.
“Don’t fidget while I’m trying to talk to you,” Miss Sheridan warned when Sara Beth strained to catch a glimpse of the younger teacher. But Miss Wilder had already gone back inside.
“Sara Beth,” Miss Sheridan said in a low voice. She glanced around, as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her. “Do you know what happens to bad little girls who misbehave in school?”
Sara Beth shook her head, although she did know. Your daddy got called, and then your daddy got mad…
“They get taken away. Just like Emily Campbell.” Sara Beth’s eyes darted to Miss Sheridan’s. For a moment, Sara Beth thought she’d heard her wrong, but there was a funny look on the woman’s face, a tiny smile on her lips.
Sara Beth’s heart began to pound in fear. Emily Campbell