“She doesn’t want to see us.” The elat
ion was still in Emma’s tone, clear over the speakerphone. “It’s okay, Detective. I can handle that. I know it’ll take time. Mom and I have been working with missing-children cases my whole life. I’m just so glad to know that she’s alive. That she’s okay.” Emma was sobbing now. “Just so glad.”
Lucy heard Ramsey finalize plans to meet Emma and Rose at the police station. He suggested that Cal Whittier might come along, as well, but emphasized that the initial meeting with detectives would be with only Rose and Emma.
She heard him ring off.
She was in the bathroom, throwing up potatoes.
“You don’t have to do this.” Lucy stood with Ramsey in the squad room, waiting for Emma and Rose Sanderson to arrive. The guard downstairs at the door had already called up to say they were on their way.
“Yes, I have to do it, Ramsey. We both know I do.” “Not tonight, you don’t.”
She’d brushed her teeth. Run a comb through her hair.
Washed her face and put on fresh makeup. She was still wearing the suit she’d put on at home in Aurora that morning. What would they think of her?
How much did their opinion matter to her?
“Something I learned a long time ago,” she said, listening for the elevator bell to chime out in the hall. “When you have something tough to face, it’s best to just get it over with, whether it be a shot, a paper to write or bad news to tell.”
“You’ve faced more than your share today.”
“And getting this done tonight is going to make it easier to get up tomorrow.” At least that was her theory. She hoped she was right.
Ramsey nodded and she knew that as long as he was standing there with her, she’d be okay. If she collapsed, he’d catch her.
She wanted to hold his hand. But needed to think that she was there as a professional.
“In the next few minutes, I’m going to be meeting my mother,” she said aloud.
Bill and Ramsey exchanged glances. “I’m just making sure we all understand what’s going on here,” she said.
The elevator binged. Both men turned to look at her. “You’re sure?” Bill asked.
She’d have said yes, but couldn’t get by the lump in her throat. So she nodded.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“D etective Miller?” Rose Sanderson went right by Bill Mendholson. “My daughter tells me that you have news regarding our missing Claire?”
Lucy watched the well-dressed, elegantly beautiful woman enter the squad room and approach Ramsey. She was crying, but she did that gracefully, too.
Emma, dressed more sedately in jeans and a white buttondown blouse with a navy blue sweater that matched, came up beside her mother and gave Lucy a hug.
“Thank you for being here,” Emma whispered. Lucy hadn’t expected the hug. Her arms flew out automatically. She held on to Emma’s body—slim like hers, but taller—and when the other woman would have pulled back, she couldn’t let go. She just couldn’t let go.
“Detective?” Rose’s voice wobbled. “What do you know about our Claire?”
Lucy couldn’t open her eyes. She was afraid if she did, that beautiful woman was going to take one look at her and run the other direction. She was going to claim that it had all been a great mistake.
She wasn’t ever going to accept the woman that Sandy Hayes had raised.
“Lucy?” She heard Ramsey.
“Mrs. Sanderson, why don’t you step over here for a minute.” Bill’s voice came closer. “We have some pictures we want you to look at.”
A part of Lucy wondered what pictures they had. There were no pictures in the Sanderson file. Bill led Rose to a small viewing room next door.