As much as Rae hoped that Zoey would walk through the front door any moment now, a sixth sense told her it wouldn’t happen any time soon—if it ever did.
“There’s one more thing you need to know before you search for her mother.” Alan slid back into the chair at the kitchen table.
“What’s that?”
“I’ve learned something about her past. The police told me there’s no record of a Zoey Dumont who moved to Colorado from Wyoming. No Zoey Dumont who fits her description lived in Jackson Hole. Zoey Dumont isn’t her birth name.”
“Then who is your wife?”
He blew out a long breath. “I wish I knew.”
CHAPTER TWO
Alan stared at the door his sister had exited. She was going to do what he should do—look for his wife. But he had other considerations.
His entire world felt as if it were folding in on itself. At the moment, he was so wiped out that he wasn’t sure he could tell fact from fiction.
“Daddy?”
Ah—his most important consideration. Definitely fact.
Callie held on to a stuffed panda bear. She’d always preferred stuffed animals to dolls. She preferred the softness—a sensory thing—to the harder plastic from which dolls were made. Her room was painted pink and decorated with panda decals. Who knew one could purchase bedspreads and curtains covered in fat black-and-white bears. She crept toward him, rubbing her big blue eyes. Her long blonde curls had tangled during her nap. Even tangled, they were soft, so soft.
He loved hearing the way she called him Daddy and was grateful that she could at least speak. Some children with autism were nonverbal. He should have woken her earlier to better keep with her schedule, but he needed to make sure he and Rae had time to discuss Zoey without Callie overhearing their conversation.
She climbed onto his lap. She had her mother’s eyes—no doubt there.
Zoey had finished college while they were married and she was pregnant with Callie. She’d only had a few credit hours left to earn her degree. When Callie was born, Zoey wanted to stay home with her and love and protect her as long as she could. With his tech job, they could afford that luxury. He loved being able to provide for them. Still, Zoey worked part-time, claiming it kept her mind sharp.
To hide the turmoil rolling inside, he smiled for Callie. Callie’s eyes were bright and innocent. In that way, they were far different from Zoey’s. He’d always sensed a murkiness in his wife that came with keeping the past behind her. He wanted to shield and protect her from the demons that haunted her.
He choked on the thought.
Protect them . . . Protect Zoey.
Right.
Zoey was gone.
For all any of them knew, Callie could be missing now too if she hadn’t been in therapy. He hugged her again, grateful that she wasn’t opposed to hugs. She was on the too-social end of the spectrum, easily warming to strangers, hugging them or even going along with them. Everyone was worthy of Callie’s love. Everyone was welcomed into her world.
He kissed the top of her head and willed the surging tears back into place. He would protect her from his dark emotions as well.
After a while, the way her body went limp and comfortable against him made him think Callie had gone back to sleep. But then she lifted her face to stare at him. “Mommy. I want Mommy.”
Emotional pain—much worse than anything he’d ever experienced—lanced through him. He couldn’t take this. But he had no choice.
“I know, sweetheart.” He snuggled her for a few moments, then tickled her, and she giggled, giving him the response he needed. Joyous laughter spilled from the small bundle—an amazing, miraculous creation.
But tickles and snuggles and excuses would only last so long.
If Zoey didn’t return soon, he had no idea what he was going to do. He couldn’t bear to think that something nefarious had happened to her. Deep inside, he somehow sensed she was still alive. Like the sense Mom always had that Dad was okay, until he wasn’t. That day, she’d had a sense of loss. Then they heard that he’d been killed along with the soldiers he was traveling with.
Alan knew finding Zoey’s vehicle would go a long way in learning where she had gone. Or if she’d been abducted.
He braced for the possibility that he might become a suspect in his wife’s disappearance.
God, please don’t let it come to that. For Callie’s sake. She’s so sweet and innocent.