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She glanced past him, trying hard not to cry. She hadn't realized how scared she was, how worried that something had happened to him. If only she hadn't missed his call the other day.
What little of the house she could see had changed more than she could have imagined. When Roz's mother, Anna, had been alive, the house had smelled of baked bread and brownies. This house smelled of cleaner, new carpet and fresh paint.
Her father had warned her a few months ago that Emily was doing a little redecorating, but it still came as a shock to see everything of her mother gone. Through the French doors, she could see the living room. All of the beautiful old things her mother had collected had been replaced with new, modern furniture.
That wasn't the only shock. While Roz's mother, Anna, had loved vibrant colors, it seemed Emily was partial to indistinguishable shades of off-white. The furnishings didn't fit the house any more than Emily did, she thought uncharitably.
"Don't worry, all of your mother's things have been moved up to the attic," Drew said, following her gaze. "Your father insisted everything be saved."
The attic. How appropriate.
Emily came breezing out of the dining room looking harried. "Rozalyn," the woman gushed, rushing over to give her a quick air kiss.
Emily Lane Sawyer was blond with blue eyes like her two grown children. She was a tall, statuesque woman, far different from Roz's mother, who'd been pet.i.te with soft brown eyes and strawberry-blond hair that curled in the humidity just like her daughter's. Everyone had always said Roz was the spitting image of her mother, something that Emily had remarked on more than one occasion.
In her late forties, Emily was a good fifteen years younger than her new husband. Intellectually, Roz could understand what her father had seen in the woman. She had a great body for her age and she was quite attractive.
What worried Roz was what Emily had seen in Liam Sawyer.
"You made it in time for dinner," Emily said.
Roz heard the "just barely" in her tone. Dinner was the last thing Roz wanted but it would be rude to try to get out of dining with the family. "Drew says you haven't heard from my father." She couldn't bring herself to call him dad with these people.
"No, but like I told you on the phone, Liam said he didn't know when he'd be back and not to worry about him. I hope that isn't the only reason you drove all the way up here."
What other reason than to see her father? "It isn't like him to be gone this long without any word," Roz said, not mentioning the other reason she was so concerned. The strange message on her answering machine. He'd sounded upset, said little, asking her to call as soon as possible.
That had been two days ago. Emily said she hadn't heard from Liam for more than two weeks.
Also he'd left his cell phone number. Not the number at the house. And when Roz had tried to reach him she'd gotten the message that the phone was either out of the calling area or turned off.
He'd said it was important but it had been his tone that scared her. Something had happened, and it had to be something big for her father, the most laid-back man alive, to sound that upset.
And yet no one in this family seemed even concerned about him. Why was that? Because they didn't want her to know that something had happened before he'd left on his latest camping trip. And Roz was certain it had something to do with Emily.
"He's always checked in after a few days," Roz said now. "It's hard to believe you haven't heard from him."
"Well, you know him better than I do," Emily said distractedly. "I have to admit, I don't understand his need to go off into the mountains like he does at his age."
"He loves the Cascades. I'm sure that's one reason he moved back here with you." Actually, it was a mystery why her dad had done something that ridiculous, bringing this woman to Timber Falls. Roz figured there was a lot about Liam that a woman like Emily wouldn't be able to understand. Could her father have picked a woman any more different from him?
"Drew, would you see what is keeping your sister?" Emily said, glancing past Roz. "Our dinner guest will be arriving soon."
Dinner guest? Roz knew her shock must have shown. Emily wasn't letting any concern over Liam keep her from entertaining, it seemed.
Drew buzzed his sister on the intercom near the front door. "No answer," he said to his mother.
"Has anyone looked for my father?" Roz asked.
Emily seemed surprised by the question. "We wouldn't even know where to look. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack." She glanced at her watch, obviously more worried about her dinner than her husband, then up at Roz again. "You said yourself he's always done this, gone off alone, no matter the weather, taking his camera and camper back into the mountains, out searching for Bigfoot like everyone else in this town right now. I can't see this time is any different except this time there was an actual sighting."
"There's been a sighting?" That explained the large number of people in town this time of year.
"Two weeks ago. I thought you would have heard," Emily said. "Some fool bread man claimed he saw Bigfoot just outside of town and your father took off like a shot."
Was it possible her father was on the trail of Bigfoot and that's why he hadn't come back? Why he'd sounded the way he had on the phone message? Except he hadn't sounded excited. He'd sounded...upset, almost scared. And he'd been gone way too long.
"I'm afraid he's hurt, trapped somewhere, unable to get out for help," Roz said. "I think we should contact the sheriff."
Emily touched her temple and winced as if she suddenly had a headache. "He's your your father. Whatever you think is best. I just feel it's a little premature to be calling in the sheriff." father. Whatever you think is best. I just feel it's a little premature to be calling in the sheriff."
"I don't," Roz said.
Emily sighed. "Drew, darling, would you get my medicine. It's in my purse." She looked past Roz and groaned. "Oh, where is he off to now? He's never around when I need him." She rubbed her temples. "I must see to dinner. By the way, a friend of your father's is joining us. I thought you'd like that."
Roz felt a stab of guilt for her earlier uncharitable thoughts about Emily. "That was very kind of you. Maybe he'll have some idea where my father has gone."
Emily checked her watch again.
"Emily, why do I feel as if there is something you aren't telling me?"
The older woman blinked blank blue eyes at her.
"Did you and Dad have a fight before he left?"
"Of course not." Emily brought herself up to her full height. "I really need to see to my dinner."
Roz sighed. She could hear at least two of her staff in the kitchen doing the actual cooking. It was obvious Emily just wanted to get away. But Roz was sorry she'd brought up the subject now. "So who is this friend of my father's who's coming to dinner?"
"It's a surprise. You really should get into some dry clothing before you catch your death. You can have a drink before dinner with Suzanne."
Roz would rather catch her death than have a drink with Drew's sister who was probably half-sloshed by now.
As Emily headed toward the kitchen, Roz heard the front door open behind her and turned to find Drew standing in the foyer. He had her suitcase in one hand, her camera bag in the other. She hadn't heard him leave.
"It finally stopped raining but I've heard there's another storm on the way. I brought your things in," he said, studying her openly as if concerned about her conversation with his mother.
"Thank you." She appreciated his thoughtfulness more than he could know.
"Where's Mother?" he asked.
"She's seeing to dinner. She said she invited a friend of my father's to join us." Drew seemed surprised. "I'm hoping he might know where my father went. I know your mother isn't concerned-"
"Mother hides her feelings," he said as he started for the stairs. "She was just telling me earlier that she wished Liam had shown up before your visit. She's much more worried than she's letting on."
Sure she was.
When Roz didn't comment, he said in an obvious attempt to change the subject, "Planning to do some shooting while you're here?"
"I never go anywhere without my camera."
"You must have gotten that from your dad," Drew said. "Except he says for him it's just a hobby and he could never be as good as you. Your photographs really are amazing. I saw your latest book. It's your best yet."
"Thank you." She was surprised he even knew she had a new photography book out but if he was trying to flatter her, he was succeeding quite well.
"Mother had the maid get your old room ready," he said over his shoulder.
She barely heard him. "Were you here when my father left?" she asked, still convinced Emily wasn't telling her something. Something important.
"I guess I was."
Was it just her imagination that his back stiffened at her question? Her dad had told her that Drew had moved in after getting a new job so he could work from Timber Falls via computer and help his mother with the house remodeling.
"Did my father seem...upset? Or act differently?"
"Not that I noticed." He reached the second floor landing and continued on up to the third floor without turning to look back at her.
Roz stared after him, more convinced than ever that something had happened before her father's departure. Something Drew and his mother were keeping from her.
As Roz pa.s.sed the second floor, she heard a voice she recognized. Drew's sister, Suzanne, had a distinct whine that was easily recognizable even from a distance. She must be on the phone. Roz wondered why Suzanne hadn't answered the intercom when Drew had buzzed her.
As Roz hurried up the stairs after Drew, she couldn't help but remember the happy times in this house. She and her best friend, Charity, used to pretend that each room was a separate house in town where they lived happily ever after with their husbands and children and neighbors. She smiled ruefully at the memory of this house ringing with their laughter. She and Charity had both thought that one day their own children would race along these worn wooden floors as they had done.
She pushed the thought away as she and Drew reached the third floor.
"Mother hasn't gotten this far yet in her remodel," Drew said.
Roz swallowed hard as she looked down the hallway. This floor looked exactly as it had ten years ago. Her room had always been on the third floor just down from her mother's sewing room and her father's studio and darkroom. When she was young, they would put her to bed, then her mother would sew, her father would work in his darkroom. They had wanted her close by.
Her parents' bedroom had been on the second floor along with several guest rooms. Her mother had installed an intercom so she could always be within earshot of her daughter.
It was crazy, but for a moment, Roz thought she heard her mother's favorite song playing on the old phonograph in the sewing room. If she listened hard, she thought she would hear her father whistling a little off key in his darkroom down the hall. But hadn't he told her that Emily was doing away with the darkroom because she'd purchased him a digital camera?
Drew stopped in front of Roz's former bedroom door and waited for her. "Don't look so worried. Your room is exactly as you left it. Liam insisted."
Her feet felt like leaded weights as she walked down the hall to slowly turn the k.n.o.b.
As the door swung open, Roz caught a glimpse of the whimsical quilt her mother had spent months st.i.tching in secret for her thirteenth birthday. It was still on the bed, just where she'd left it. Albert, the stuffed teddy bear she'd loved threadbare, sat in the corner still wearing the tuxedo her mother had made for the tea parties she and Charity always had at the brightly painted table and chairs. On the table was the little tin tray her mother served the tiny chocolate chip cookies she'd made for them.
Roz swallowed, fighting the stinging tears that burned her eyes and choked off her throat. Drew was right. Her room was exactly as she'd left it ten years ago after her mother's death. Everywhere she looked in this room she saw her mother.
"Roz, are you all right?"
The room magnified her loss. Forcing her back to those horrible days after her mother's death. She couldn't face the loss any more now than she could at seventeen.
"Roz?"
"I'm fine," she said, realizing it wasn't near the truth. She could feel Drew's gaze on her. She glanced over at him, ready to rea.s.sure him. What she saw in his expression stopped her.
"Hey, maybe you'd better sit down," he said putting down her suitcase and camera bag to take her arm and lead her over to the wicker chair by the window.
Had she only imagined that he'd seemed to be enjoying her discomfort at seeing this room? He looked and sounded concerned now. now. She told herself she was tired. Imagining things. Like she'd imagined someone in a yellow raincoat leaping into Lost Creek Falls? She told herself she was tired. Imagining things. Like she'd imagined someone in a yellow raincoat leaping into Lost Creek Falls?
"I'm fine. Really," she said to Drew, watching him for some sign of the expression she'd thought she'd seen only moments before. "I just need to get out of these damp clothes."
He backed toward the door, still studying her openly. "I know how hard this must be for you. Come on down soon for a drink before dinner. You look like you could use one."
She nodded and tried to smile.
"Mother went all out on dinner tonight."
"Do you know who the guest is?" she asked, getting to her feet to see Drew out. She needed some time alone. Pretending she was all right was exhausting.
"It's a surprise." He shrugged as if to say, "You know Mother."
Except she didn't know Emily. She suspected though that the woman was big on surprises. She'd certainly surprised Roz by somehow getting Liam to marry her.
"Buzz me on the intercom if you need anything. anything. Two buzzes, okay?" Two buzzes, okay?"
She nodded. "Thanks." Closing the door behind him, she turned to look at the room again, fighting tears of grief and worry and anger. How could her father bring his new wife back to this house? This house so filled with memories of Roz's mother? The room seemed to echo all the unanswered questions Roz had been asking herself for the past ten years.
First her mother and now there was the chance that her father- She brushed at her tears, refusing to let herself even think that she might lose him, too. Cold, her clothing still damp, she went to the large antique bureau. In the third drawer she found what she'd been looking for. The thick rust-colored sweater her mother had knitted for her. It was the last thing her mother had made her. The sweater still fit.
She pulled on a pair of jeans from her suitcase and hiking boots, needing to get out of the house for a few minutes. She took the back stairs, exiting through a door that opened into her mother's garden.
The night felt cold and damp but for the moment the rain had stopped. Only the faint tingle of electricity in the air foretold of an approaching storm. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she started down the stone path to the rear of the property.
Like the house, her father had seen that the garden had been maintained. But in this part of the country, it was a constant battle to hold back the rainforest and no one had a way with plants like Anna Sawyer had. Roz could see where there had been recent digging. Emily must have hired someone to redo the garden as well as the house.
Roz walked down the winding overgrown path as far as the rock arch where a tangle of vines and tree limbs had left only a narrow opening. Quiet settled over her as she stood in the shadowed darkness. From here she could barely see the house through the trees and vines.
She no longer felt like crying, which was good. She needed to be strong now-for her father. She felt like she was the only person here who was worried about him.
"What does that tell you?" she asked the night as she looked back at the house. "I can't understand how you could have gotten involved with someone like her." A younger, good-looking woman? "Okay, maybe I can understand the attraction-at first. You were lonely." The thought broke her heart. "Of course you were lonely. But something happened, didn't it?" She knew her father. He wouldn't just stay away like this. He'd called her the night before last and hadn't tried to get back to her. "What happened? What was it you needed to talk to me about?"
A breeze stirred the tops of the trees in a low moan. She took another deep breath and looked up at the night sky as if it held all the answers. Clouds skimmed over the faint glitter of distant stars. No moon. She tried to fight back her growing panic. Her every instinct told her that her father needed her, and it was imperative that she find him. Was it too much to hope that this mystery dinner guest and friend of her father's might know something?
Mist rose from the wet ground around her. She hugged herself against the dampness, not ready to go back inside. Not yet. She took another deep breath, the air scented with cedar and rainwater and damp fertile earth, and so wonderfully familiar except for-She took another sniff. A chill skittered across her bare arms. Her heart began to knock as she picked up a scent that didn't belong on the night breeze-and, eyes adjusting to the darkness, she saw a large, still shape that didn't belong in the garden.
Someone was hiding just inches from her on the other side of the rock arch.
Chapter Three.