was just wondering if a stranger could have slipped something in her food at the fair.”
A bead of perspiration trickled down the back of her neck. “I…don’t know. I didn’t see anyone near her food except the vendors.”
He nodded but she had to wonder. If someone had followed them, was it possible? The place had been packed. They’d stopped to play dart balloons and others had squeezed beside Ruby while she’d hung back and given them space. Although she’d kept an eye on Ruby, she could have missed something.
“Leah,” Gage said in a deep voice. “I understand this is difficult, but I need you to finish. Did you go to bed when Ruby did?”
She hesitated, driving her fingers through her hair. “Not right away. I locked up the house and read for a while, then turned in.”
“Did you check on Ruby?”
Her gaze shot to his. “Yes, I always do. She was sleeping peacefully, but she’d kicked off the comforter. I went in and covered her.”
“And the window was closed?”
“Yes.”
“Did you sleep all night?” he asked. “You didn’t hear anything?”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “No, not until the morning.” Her gaze lifted to his. “How could I sleep while someone was breaking in and taking her?”
“It happens, Leah.” His expression softened slightly, and she decided maybe he did have a heart.
“What time did you notice she was missing?”
“I woke up right before dawn when I heard the wind screaming, and I had a bad feeling.” She pressed a hand to her aching chest, drawing in a tortured breath. “I got up and ran to check on Ruby. I wanted to make sure she was tucked in, not freezing.”
“And you saw the open window then?”
She nodded. “Then I saw that Ruby wasn’t in her bed.” Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she brushed them away. “I called her name but she didn’t answer, and I panicked and flipped on the light. Then I saw the bear and the note.”
And sheer terror had ripped through her.
“The police questioned the staff and vendors at the fair, didn’t they?”
She nodded. “No one saw anything.”
And the feds hadn’t turned up anything suspicious on them. They speculated that a vacationer or someone traveling through might have seen her, followed her home and absconded with her in the night. Obviously, whoever had kidnapped her hadn’t drawn anyone’s attention.
“Did you have a gardener or any workers—repairmen, cable guys, anybody like that—in before the kidnapping?”
She massaged her temple. “No. I mow my own lawn, and I don’t remember any strange workers being in the neighborhood. I certainly hadn’t hired any.”
“I know the police already questioned the neighbors, but I’d like to do that myself.” He looked at her, hard. “But first, I have to ask you, Leah. Can you think of anyone else who’d kidnap Ruby? Her father—”
“Our father died before she was born,” Leah said, cutting him off. “You know that, Gage.”
He stared at her for so long that she started to fidget in her seat. “I just thought that maybe your mother had met someone else….”
“Heavens, no. My mother was always faithful to my dad.”
But Leah’s dad wasn’t Ruby’s. Had Gage somehow discovered their secret?
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU been back in Sanctuary?” Gage asked.
She fisted her hands in her lap. “Since my mother died three months ago.”
“Where did you live before that?”
“In a condo in Atlanta. I was teaching there, but decided to move back to my mom’s house. I thought that would make the transition easier for Ruby.”
“How did you feel about giving up your job and moving?”
Anger flared in her eyes. “What are you implying? That I didn’t want Ruby?”
“I’m just asking,” he said brusquely. “You were on a career path, a good-looking single woman, and now your plans are ruined, and you’re saddled with a child to raise.”
She lurched up, eyes blazing with rage. But anguish darkened the depths, as well. “I’m not ‘saddled with a child,’” she said vehemently. “I would do anything for Ruby. I love her with all my heart.”
He wanted to reach out and touch her, calm her. She was trembling so badly that tears spilled down her face again.
“Then come on, Leah.” His voice was razor sharp cutting through her, dredging up the guilt. “I know you’re hiding something. Do you have any enemies? Maybe an old boyfriend or lover who’d want to hurt you by kidnapping your sister?”
LEAH ALMOST LAUGHED out loud. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school. And she certainly hadn’t had a lover.
Too much guilt and shame from the past had haunted her. And trust didn’t come easy. Not after what had happened the night of that horrible party eight years ago.
The party she’d attended in hopes of being with Gage. Only he hadn’t shown.
But she didn’t intend to tell Gage about that night. It was the deepest, most painful, humiliating, well-guarded secret of her life. Besides, it had nothing to do with Ruby’s disappearance.
It was in the past and it had to stay there.
Ruby was all that mattered now. She had to get her back safely. And then she’d never let her out of her sight again.
“Leah?” His voice startled her back to the present. “Is there an old boyfriend or lover who might want to hurt you?”
“No, no one.”
“You know something, don’t you?”
She lifted her gaze to his. If she discovered a connection, something concrete to make her believe the past was related to Ruby’s disappearance, she’d break her promise and tell him. But she’d confronted Charlie when Ruby first went missing and he’d assured her no one would gamble with their futures when she’d kept her vow of silence.
“I told you everything I know,” she said, fear making her voice wobble.
A heartbeat of tension passed between them, and her insides churned with worry as he studied her. Then he gave a clipped nod. “The feds put a tap on your phone?”
“Yes, but the kidnapper never called.”
“I’m going to hook into your phone, too, just in case. Then I want to talk to your neighbors.” He hesitated. “Meanwhile, I want you to take a stab at making a list of anyone you can think of that might have a grudge against you. Anyone with a motive to hurt you or Ruby. Think about your school and the locals—maybe a parent or teacher who paid special attention to Ruby—and even people in Atlanta.”
Leah’s heart sank. “But I’ve already been through all this.”
“I know, but you might remember something new, even a small detail that might not have seemed significant at the time. How about a woman or man who’d lost a child recently?”
She felt a rush of adrenaline. “There is a woman who lost her daughter a few months ago, a runaway teen.” Her gaze swung to his, panicked but hopeful. If this woman had Ruby, she wouldn’t harm her. “She always said that Ruby reminded her of her little girl. I didn’t think of it before—I felt sorry for her.”
“Write down her contact information,” Gage said. “I’ll check her out along with that