and was partially paralyzed on one side, leaving her confined to a wheelchair. But her mind was quick and seeing Sara always lifted her spirits.
Sara bounded out of the car clutching the flowers in one hand, raced up to the door and banged on the front. “Gran, guess who’s here,” she sang. “We gots a surprise for you!”
A second later, Liz Cummings, one of the health care workers, greeted Sara with a big hug.
By the time Madelyn made it inside, Sara was already perched on her mother’s lap in the wheelchair, talking in an animated voice about the big, dark-skinned Indian who could walk on fire, and Liz was putting the flowers in a vase on the window ledge so her mother could enjoy them.
Sara’s mother arched a brow as Madelyn entered. “So is this young man handsome, dear?”
Madelyn blushed. Her mother never ceased to play matchmaker. So far, Madelyn had managed to avoid a real date with the men her mother had thrown in front of her.
“He’s big, so biggg, Gran.” Sara threw up her hands indicating that he was gigantic, and Madelyn bit back a laugh. “And he’s gonna find Cissy. He promised.”
Madelyn’s smile faded. She hated to give Sara false hopes and then have her be even more devastated if things fell through. “Honey, he’s investigating, but we can’t be sure what we’ll find.”
“He will find her,” Sara insisted stubbornly. “He said he would and he can walk on fire so he can do anything.”
Madelyn’s mother, Cora, stroked Sara’s hair. “I’m sure he’ll do his best, pumpkin. Now, why don’t we have a tea party while your mommy does her errands? Liz brought us some cookies, but they look pretty bare to me.”
Sara clapped her hands. “We can decorate them, Gran! We’ll make ’em look like sunflowers for Cissy!”
“That sounds like a fabulous idea,” her mother said.
“Come on,” Liz said. “Help me put out the icing and sprinkles so we can make those cookies pretty.”
Sara skipped to the kitchen with Liz but worry knitted Madelyn’s brow.
“She’ll be all right.” Her mother wheeled her chair over and clasped Madelyn’s hand. “And so will you.”
Madelyn soaked in her mother’s smile. She loved her and Sara more than she could say. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mom. Sara and I…we both need you.”
Her mother barked a laugh. “Well, I’m not going anywhere, sugar. Now you go and do what you need to do. I’ll take care of Sara while you look for Cissy.” She tilted her head toward the sunflowers. “I think Sara is right. Cissy loves sunflowers.”
Madelyn’s stomach twisted. Apparently her mother trusted Sara’s visions.
They exchanged concerned looks. But her mother refrained from commenting further on Sara’s recent sunflower obsession. They’d both hoped it would play itself out, but now Madelyn wondered if the sunflowers might be some kind of clue to her other daughter.
Pasting on a brave face, she hugged her mother. “I’ll call. You two have fun.”
“We always do,” her mother said with a beaming smile.
Madelyn’s throat thickened, and she nodded, afraid if she spoke, the dam holding back her emotions would break, and she’d fall on the floor in a puddle and start sobbing. Once she started, she might not be able to stop.
The morning sun sliced through the bare trees as she jogged to the minivan, then drove around the mountain. Early morning shadows flickered across the dark asphalt as the sun fought through the storm clouds gathering above. She slowed as she spotted the cemetery, dread flooding her at the sight of the sheriff’s car and the hearse.
The day of the funeral threatened to replay through Madelyn’s head, but she hit the pause button in her brain and zapped it on hold. She refused to relive that day again now with all these men watching.
Swallowing back nerves, she parked and walked to the top of the hill overlooking the Lost Angels corner where the sheriff and three other men stood conferring. Where was Caleb?
Inhaling a breath to fortify her courage, she stumbled down the hill and through the iron gate. Sheriff Gray gave her a concerned look, but she rushed past them, then looked into the tent protecting the site. Caleb was there, kneeling with his hand on Cissy’s grave. His dark skin had drained of color, and an odd mixture of grief and pain marred his face.
What was he doing? Could he see inside the grave?
CALEB’S WORLD SHIMMERED out of control as he felt a vision coming on. Darkness pulled at him, dragging him into an endless tunnel, a pit of silence that stretched below the ground, desolate, screaming with secrets…
“Caleb?”
The sound of a woman’s voice jerked him free of the spell.
“What are you doing?”
Twisting his head sideways, he spotted Madelyn staring at him, her arms crossed, her expression troubled.
He stood abruptly, taking a step back, confused by what he’d seen. By what he hadn’t seen. He needed more time, dammit. And he wasn’t ready to share his gift just yet. “Nothing. Just thinking about the case.” He crooked a thumb toward the sheriff. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Sheriff Gray gestured toward the E.H. Officer. “Madelyn, this is Oliver Gordon, the Environmental Health Officer. He’ll oversee the exhumation.”
Madelyn nodded in greeting, obviously struggling with the reality of the task to come and its ramifications.
Gordon cleared his throat. “For health reasons, I have to ask everyone to wait a safe distance away. We must respect this grave as well as the surrounding ones.”
“Of course.” Madelyn folded her arms around her waist as if to hold herself together while the funeral home employees approached with shovels. The distress on her face made Caleb’s protective instincts surge. He wished he could spare her this ordeal, but this exhumation was vital to whether or not they moved forward with an investigation.
Amanda Peterson, GAI’s resident forensic anthropologist, climbed from a sporty gray sedan at the top of the hill and walked toward them.
Caleb gestured to Madelyn. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
Her face paled, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she allowed him to guide her up the hill. Fine tremors rippled through her body as she stopped beneath a giant oak. Caleb rubbed a hand along her neck, hoping to calm her.
Amanda approached them, her expression sympathetic. “You must be Madelyn Andrews.” She extended her hand. “I’m Amanda Peterson. I work with Caleb and Gage at GAI.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Madelyn said. “I didn’t realize another agent would be present.”
Caleb’s gut pinched. “Amanda is a forensics anthropologist. We thought she might be helpful today.”
Madelyn’s eyes widened as the implications registered.
“She’s going to oversee the medical examiner’s work,” Caleb continued, “just so we can verify the findings. In light of Dr. Emery’s lies, we can’t be too careful.”
Amanda tugged her all-weather coat around her. “I’m sorry, Madelyn. I know this is difficult.”
“Yes, well, thank you for being here. If I’d had my wits about me five years ago, I would have demanded to see my child before I buried her.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Amanda said, her voice and smile genuinely understanding. “You were a victim. And we’re going to find out just how much of one today.”
Amanda’s pep talk seemed to give Madelyn strength, because she offered her a tiny smile.