Jasmine Cresswell - Missing

She couldn’t let herself get caught up in anger over the money, Megan decided. There were so many other things her father had done that were more worthy of her rage.

“What do they look like?” Part of her wanted desperately to know. Another part of her wasn’t ready to give substance to her cloudy mental images of her father’s second wife and her half sister.

“Tall, blond, very photogenic,” Liam said. “Actually, the daughter has facial features that are a lot like Dad’s. The same wide-set eyes and high cheekbones.”

“Your features are a lot like Dad’s, too.”

“I know.” Liam shrugged. “Unfortunately, I can’t change my face short of plastic surgery and I’m not willing to grant Dad that much importance in my life.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant if you and…Kate…both look like him—she must look like you. Especially since she’s tall.” Megan drew in an unsteady breath. “She probably looks more like your real sister than I do.”

“Maybe.” Liam gave her a quick, reassuring grin. “But she’s a stranger despite the biological link, whereas you’re the annoying kid that for some crazy reason I’ve loved since the moment Mom brought you home from the hospital. Looking mighty wrinkled and unappetizing if you must know, although Mom tried to make the best of you with a frilly hat and cute socks.”

She answered his smile. “And that’s your way of reassuring me? If so, I have to tell you, your charm offensive needs work.”

“Hey, I’m your brother. It’s the best I can do. Besides, think about what Kate is going through right now. She doesn’t even have a sister or brother to share her frustrations with. We’re the lucky ones.”

“I promise to feel sorry for her sometime soon. Right now, I can’t. I’m too busy alternating between feeling betrayed and totally, incredibly stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid,” Liam said. “Dad was criminally deceptive. Don’t take his crimes onto your shoulders.”

“I’m working on it.” Megan managed another smile although she could feel it wobble at the edges. “Let’s go inside. You must want to see Mom. She’ll be so glad to know you’re here—”

Liam put out his arm, preventing her from walking into the house. “Talk to me for a minute longer before we go into the house. Somehow it’s easier not to get eaten up with anger out here in the fresh air. How’s Mom holding up?”

Megan considered for a moment. “She broke down when she first heard about Dad’s other wife, but now I’m not sure what she’s feeling. You know how she tends to keep people at arm’s length by occupying herself with some chore or other? That’s what she’s doing right now. She won’t let me get close enough to offer real sympathy. Just scurries off insisting she has some vital new task that has to be attended to. Immediately, of course.”

“She’s always been the queen of busywork,” Liam said, his expression showing his frustration. “It’s very effective as a distancing mechanism and it’s driven me crazy for years.”

“Me, too.” Megan gave a rueful smile. “I wish she’d bend her steel spine a little and confess that she needs a friendly shoulder to cry on. Or at least admit that she’s angry as hell at Dad.”

Liam whistled to call Belle back from chasing a squirrel. “Has she? Admitted that she’s angry at Dad, I mean?”

“Not to me, that’s for sure. To herself? Who knows.”

“Is she in denial? Clinging to the hope that Dad isn’t dead?”

Megan shook her head. “She resisted the idea that he was dead for a couple of hours, but she’s definitely not in denial anymore. Every report that comes in from Miami seems a bit more conclusive. She spent the morning going through papers, sorting out relevant documents to establish that she’s Dad’s legal wife and we’re his legitimate children. Then this afternoon she started working on organizing a prayer service for Dad—”

“Right after she’d spent hours trying to prove she was actually married to him?” Liam’s voice rose incredulously. He shook his head. “Why am I surprised? It’s so typical of Mom to ignore the fact that the son of a bitch totally screwed her over.” His mouth tightened. “What she ought to be doing is celebrating the fact that he’s met the end he deserved.”

Megan flinched at the venom in her brother’s tone. “Nobody deserves to be murdered.”

“I’ve reminded myself of that several times since I got your message, but I can’t pretend I’m in deep mourning—”

“He was a great dad when we were growing up,” Megan protested.

“Yeah, I guess. But anytime I start to feel grief-stricken, I just take another look at the TV images of Avery and Kate. Somehow, that dries all the emotion right up.”

Liam’s rage at their father was palpable, and Megan could certainly understand why. Oddly, she wasn’t angry with their father, at least not yet. She had enjoyed growing up on the ranch and Ron had been a loving parent, despite his frequent absences. Did she have to discard hundreds of happy childhood memories because they were now tainted by the knowledge that her father had been a liar? It was going to take her a while to come to terms with the fact that her idyllic childhood on the ranch had been sustained only at the cost of a series of lies spanning more than twenty-five years.

Megan turned the conversation back to the subject of their mother, which was marginally easier to deal with than her own confused feelings about their father. “Despite the brave facade, I’m pretty sure Mom is devastated. But she’s told me in no uncertain terms that she can handle everything herself, including the arrangements for the prayer service. I suggested that maybe since we don’t have Dad…since we don’t have his body…we could use that as an excuse not to have any sort of memorial service.” She raised her shoulders in a frustrated gesture. “Mom told me to butt out.”

Liam gave a disbelieving shake of his head. “Has Mom considered that it might be a tad awkward to throw a prayer service for a man who hasn’t yet been officially declared dead? Not to mention the even more awkward fact that he was a bigamist when he was alive? What in the world does she expect our neighbors to say when they try to offer their condolences?”

Megan drew in a sharp breath. “I don’t believe she’s allowed herself to think through the practical realities. Part of the problem is that she didn’t sleep last night, so she’s exhausted, and of course you can guess how she reacted when I suggested taking a sleeping pill. The other problem is that she’s walled herself off so completely that she’s getting no input from anyone. She refuses to see anyone except Harry, and although she accepts that Dad is likely dead, she won’t talk about the fact that he seems to have been violently murdered, much less ask at least a few questions as to why. Most especially she won’t talk about the fact that he had another wife and daughter. Last night she cut me off every time I tried to discuss Dad’s bigamy. This morning she flat out told me not to mention those women in Chicago again. Almost as if they were the people to blame instead of Dad.”

“The past few hours have obviously been even rougher for you than I imagined.” Liam dumped his duffel bag onto the swing and put his arm around her. “The truth is, I haven’t been pulling my weight for the past several years. You’ve been left alone to deal with family crises far too often.”

“You’re giving me way too much credit,” Megan said. “I’ve been nowhere near as close to Mom and Dad as you’re assuming. Jackson Hole is only ninety miles from here, but it might as well be on another planet in terms of lifestyle.” She sent him a regretful sideways glance. “I had no more trouble burying myself in my work at the hotel than you did burying yourself in becoming Denver’s most successful divorce lawyer. Somehow, I’ve managed to kid myself for the last five years that if I kept my sights fixed on the goal of being promoted to assistant manager at the hotel, all the problems in my life would be resolved.”