Now You See Her Page 0,105
she’s managed to contact Audrey.”
“I don’t think we should pressure her.”
“I wasn’t going to pressure her. I was just going to … Where are you?”
“What?” Marcy pressed the phone tightly against her ear in an effort to keep the persistent buzz of tourists at bay.
“Have you gone out somewhere?”
“No. I’m just in the lobby. There was another mix-up with my credit card,” she lied.
“Sounds like there’s quite the crowd there.”
“A bus full of tourists just arrived,” Marcy said, watching as a tour bus pulled into a parking spot across the street. Not quite a lie, she thought.
“So, the Hayfield Manor’s takin’ in tour groups now, is it?” Liam asked incredulously. “Guess the economy’s affectin’ everyone.”
“I have to go,” Marcy told him. “They’re waiting to talk to me.”
“You sure you don’t want me to come over, give you a hand?”
“Positive. Everything’s under control, and I don’t want to be responsible for you getting fired.”
“Thinkin’ of me then, are you?”
“I have to go,” she said again, trying not to sound too impatient.
“Okay, but if I don’t hear from Shannon in the next hour, I’m gonna call her,” he said.
“Fine.”
“Maybe even pay her a visit.”
“I really don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Yeah? You know somethin’ I don’t?”
“No, of course not. I’m just trying to think positively.”
“Okay, then. Positive thoughts it is.”
“Positive thoughts,” she repeated.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” She quickly returned the phone to her purse, slowly executing a 360-degree turn. “Positive thoughts,” she whispered.
No sign of her daughter.
And remember—we’re watching you, Devon had warned.
Was someone watching her now? Reporting on her every move? Had that someone seen her on the phone, warned Devon to stay away?
“Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.”
And not a word to that sexy young boyfriend of yours.
Had whoever was watching her been close enough to overhear her conversation? Did they know she’d told Liam nothing?
Maybe I should have, Marcy thought. Maybe I should have told him everything. Then he wouldn’t be sweating out the fact that Shannon still hasn’t phoned. He wouldn’t be thinking of calling me again, possibly even paying me an unnecessary visit. Oh, God. If I’m not careful, he’s liable to screw everything up.
Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.
“Excuse me,” a woman said from somewhere beside her. The accent was distinctly North American.
“Devon?” Marcy said as she turned toward the voice.
“Excuse me,” the woman repeated with a flip of her shoulder-length blond hair, “but we’re trying to get through.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.…”
“Some people are just oblivious,” Marcy heard the woman’s male companion mutter as they pushed past.
Marcy felt tears forming behind her eyes. “Not yet,” she whispered. There was still more than enough time for tears. Always plenty of time for tears, she thought, hearing the distant bells of St. Anne’s Shandon Church strike one.
“Don’t turn around,” a familiar male voice suddenly whispered in her ear.
Marcy’s breath caught instantly in her lungs.
“Start walking,” the voice instructed.
“Where’s Devon?”
“Keep walking. Straight ahead. Don’t look back.”
“Where are we going?”
“To see your daughter.”
“Why isn’t she here?”
“Keep walking.” A strong hand on the back of her elbow guided her through the crowd.
“Where is she?”
“Not far. You tell anyone where you were going?”
“No. No one.”
“Good. Keep walking. Head toward Sullivan’s Quay.”
“Will Devon be there?”
“Don’t ask so many questions.”
“I just want to see my daughter.”
“You will.”
They walked for several minutes in silence, a thousand thoughts swirling inside Marcy’s brain, like clothes in a dryer. Where was he taking her? Were they really going to see Devon, or was this some sort of trap?
A sudden pressure on Marcy’s elbow directed her to stop.
“Let me have your phone,” her escort directed.
“My phone? Why?”
“Just give it here.”
Marcy reached inside her purse and took out her cell phone. It was pulled from her hand before she had a chance to object.
“Don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore,” he said, tossing the phone into the nearest trash bin.
“But—”
“Keep walking.”
“Is all this intrigue really necessary?” Marcy asked as they approached Sullivan’s Quay.
“Probably not. But it’s kind of fun, don’t you think? Turn left at this next street.”
“And then what?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“Are you really taking me to Devon?”
“What else would I be doin’?” he asked.
“I don’t know. What were you doing that afternoon you ran me down with your bicycle?” Marcy spun around on her heel to look the young man directly in the eye.
“Tryin’ to get you to mind your own business,” Jax said with a sneer. “Obviously it didn’t work.”
“Devon is my business.”
The boy shrugged, causing audible crinkles in his bomber-style black leather jacket. They continued walking