Debra Webb - Missing

Memories flooded her brain. Moments shared with this man that she had shared with no other human being. Secrets…feelings. Stop. She ordered herself back to the matter of importance. “Is that normal procedure?” she asked when he continued to sit stone still without saying a word.

“Sometimes.” He paused a moment as if to be sure of his words. “The Bureau’s involvement is strictly on a case by case basis. If they’re not on the scene they feel there is nothing their presence could add at this point.”

Did that mean the FBI felt Polly’s case was hopeless? Before Melissa could ask as much, he said, “Walk me through exactly what happened.”

Where was William? Melissa glanced at the door that separated the kitchen and dining room from the living room. Forcing him to relive that night would only add to his misery. “It was late. William and his wife had a fight.” Melissa took a moment to tamp down the renewed rush of emotion. “You know how young couples can be. A little too much passion and not quite enough common sense. William didn’t want Polly to be awakened by the arguing so he left and came here for the night.” Melissa’s throat attempted to close again. “The next morning when he went home Polly was gone and Presley was sleeping off the vodka she’d used to drown her frustrations.”

More than one well-meaning neighbor had commented that no decent mother would drink herself unconscious with her child in the next room. But that was the main emotional outlet Presley had been exposed to growing up. It was what she knew. Melissa wanted to shake her every time she thought about it, but that wouldn’t change a thing.

Even more troubling, the house had been unlocked when William arrived home that awful morning. William insisted he had locked up when he left. Presley claimed he clearly had not since the back door had been wide open with no indication of forced entry. Melissa wanted to believe William, but he’d been damned upset that night. He was only human.

Sweet Jesus, how could this have happened?

“He called the police,” Jonathan prompted.

“Yes.” Melissa chewed at her bottom lip. Her throat was so dry she could scarcely breathe much less swallow. “The chief and one of his deputies arrived within minutes. William and Presley were arguing.” Melissa shook her head. “It was terrible…just terrible.”

Another long moment of tension-filled silence passed, with Jonathan watching her, assessing her. What was he thinking? Had he already formed some sort of conclusion? How was that possible? He didn’t know her family. Certainly she’d mentioned her brother and niece, and her uncle, but Jonathan hadn’t bothered to stick around long enough to meet any of them. Melissa had been living and working in Birmingham at the time. Still would be if her mother hadn’t gotten sick and then if her brother hadn’t deployed to the Middle East.

William had begged Melissa to come home and keep an eye on Polly. And Presley. Determined to help, Melissa had come home and still this unthinkable tragedy had occurred.

“The investigation has uncovered nothing?” her visitor asked again.

“Nothing.” It was disheartening, awful even, but it was the truth. “No one saw anything or heard anything,” she explained, hoping to make herself perfectly clear this time. “Whoever took Polly left no evidence. Nothing.”

“I spoke to my contact at the Pentagon.”

A little hitch disrupted her respiration. “And?” This was what she’d called him about, what she’d needed from him. Not this interrogation. His questions felt exactly like that. As if he was interrogating her. Stay calm, she ordered herself. He was trying to help. Her fingernails pinched into her palms.

“Your brother’s orders have been put on hold indefinitely.”

Relief flooded Melissa with such force her shoulders trembled. “Thank you.”

“But…”

Fear and something resembling anger swirled fast and furiously in Melissa’s stomach. “But?” This was going to be something she wouldn’t like. She could feel it. Jonathan’s hesitation spoke volumes.

“If your brother was somehow involved,” Jonathan warned, “there will be serious consequences.”

Melissa blinked. At first his words just sort of bounced off the wad of emotions swaddling her brain. Then the realization filtered through. He was suggesting William was somehow involved with Polly’s disappearance. “What?” She couldn’t have heard him right. There had to be a mistake. The very idea was ludicrous.

Jonathan didn’t look away. His gaze held hers with the same ferocity as when she’d first found him standing outside the door. “It happens, Melissa.”

The way he said her name, with that same thick huskiness as when they’d made love, ripped open the wounds she’d thought long healed and forgotten.

“More often than you know,” he went on while she scrambled to regain her equilibrium. “These soldiers experience things…see things that change them from the inside out. Sometimes they can’t accept the idea of going back. They’ll do anything to ensure that doesn’t happen. The suicide rate is incredibly high.”

She couldn’t move, couldn’t respond. Melissa knew her brother. No matter what he’d experienced, he would never, ever put his daughter in harm’s way. Never. Anyone who suggested such a thing either didn’t know him or was a fool.

“Most of the families feel that way, even after the worst has happened.”

His answer told her she’d stated her thoughts aloud. Looking down, she unclenched her fingers and swiped her palms against her jean-clad thighs before clenching her fingers into fists once more. Meeting his gaze would take some regrouping. He couldn’t be right. No way. William would never do that. He’d been questioned along those very lines the same day he’d discovered Polly was missing. He wouldn’t, couldn’t do it.

“You’re wrong.” Her gaze locked with Jonathan’s once more. “William would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for his child. No way would he do this.”

“War changes people. Some more than others, but no one is exempt. Whether it’s visible or not, the change is there.” Jonathan took a deep breath, the rise and fall of his chest the first indication that he had even that essential human need. “The only person who can be certain of William now is William himself.”

Melissa opened her mouth to defend her brother but never got the chance.

“He’s right.”

She twisted around to look at William. The idea that he might have overheard all that had been said in the last few minutes wrenched her heart.

“Sergeant Shepherd,” Jonathan acknowledged.

“Major Foley.” William stepped past Melissa and settled into the chair next to hers.

“It’s just Foley now,” Jonathan corrected.

William made a sound in his throat, not quite a laugh. “Are you sure?”

Melissa watched the interaction between the two men, her pulse thumping in her ears. The connection between the two was instantaneous and palpable. They’d never met, yet the military connection somehow made them familiar.

One corner of Jonathan’s mouth quirked with an almost smile. “You’ve got me there. But today we’re not soldiers so let’s keep things informal.”

William gave an agreeable nod. “My daughter is my heart,” he said, his tone flat. His emotions had run so high for the past few days that his mind and body could no longer maintain the necessary energy for emotional nuances. “I would gladly die right now if it would bring her back here.”

“I have no doubt,” Jonathan concurred. “However, even the best of us have moments when we snap. Maybe do something we didn’t intend to do.” Before William could counter, he added, “Then denial kicks in and we genuinely don’t believe ourselves capable of such an act. The mind is a powerful thing. It sometimes protects us from that which we cannot bear.”