she’d lead me to my daughter.”
“Why didn’t you just ask Shannon where to find her?” was the next logical question.
How many times had she asked herself the same thing? “Because I was afraid that if Devon knew I was here, if she knew I’d seen her, then she’d disappear again. And I couldn’t take that chance.”
“Who’s Devon?” Johnny asked, his unlined brow wrinkling in confusion.
“My daughter.”
“I’m sorry, I thought you said your daughter’s name is Audrey.”
“Audrey is the name she’s using.”
“Why would she be using an alias?”
“Obviously because she doesn’t want to be found,” Marcy replied testily.
“You don’t think she’d be happy to see you?” Colleen asked.
“No.”
“Why is that, Mrs. Taggart?”
“Because there were issues.…”
“What kind of issues?”
“It’s complicated. Our relationship was …”
“Complicated,” Johnny repeated.
“Yes. Devon was having a hard time. She blamed me for a lot of her problems—”
“Such as?”
“I’d really rather not get into that.”
“If you want our help, isn’t it best we know all the facts?”
“I’m not asking for your help,” Marcy said.
“Why not?”
“What?”
Christopher Murphy reasserted his position as leader. “I assume you have pictures of your daughter. Can I see them, please?”
Marcy reached inside her purse and pulled out the photographs of Devon, placing them in his outstretched hand. The other two officers immediately pressed against his side, passing the pictures back and forth across his midriff.
“Pretty girl,” Johnny remarked.
“Can’t say she looks familiar,” Colleen said.
“No. Don’t know her,” Officer Murphy agreed. “Tell me, why didn’t you come to us when you first saw her?”
Marcy stared at him blankly. Another question for which she had no satisfactory response.
“I mean, I think I understand your not wanting to confront Shannon,” he continued gently, “but we might have been able to help you find Audrey.”
“How could you have helped me?”
“Well, that is our job, Mrs. Taggart. We help people. Or try to anyway. We could have circulated her picture, talked to Shannon in an official capacity, asked around, found out about Audrey, made sure she really is your daughter.”
“What are you saying? That you don’t believe me?”
“I’m not saying that at all. It’s just that you only saw her for half a second through the front window of Grogan’s House,” the senior garda reminded Marcy. “If I’m not mistaken, those windows are covered with advertisements.”
“I know what I saw.”
“I don’t doubt it’s what you think you saw.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like my husband,” Marcy said with a sneer, instantly regretting voicing this thought out loud.
“Your husband thinks you might be mistaken?”
“My husband’s thoughts are no longer my concern.”
“Have you spoken to him about this?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have.”
“And?”
Marcy swallowed her growing frustration. “He prefers to believe our daughter is dead.”
“Why would any father want to believe his daughter is dead?”
“Because sometimes it’s just easier that way. And Peter has always preferred to take the easy way out.”
“Always?” Christopher Murphy asked, his eyebrows moving toward the bridge of his nose. “You’re saying this has happened before?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Has it happened before, Mrs. Taggart?”
“Has what happened?” Marcy demanded. Then, before he could answer, “Look. I’ve had enough of this. I appreciate your wanting to help, I really do, but it’s not necessary. So if you’ll just give me back my passport, I’ll be out of your hair.” Instinctively Marcy’s hand reached for her head, her fingers disappearing into a mass of frenzied curls. I must look like a lunatic, Marcy thought. No wonder they think I’m deranged.
Officer Murphy pressed her. “This isn’t the first time you’ve thought you’ve seen your daughter, is it, Mrs. Taggart?”
“I don’t understand how any of this is relevant.” How many times had she said that already? Maybe it was she who was irrelevant.
“Has this happened before, Mrs. Taggart?” he repeated a fourth time.
If he asks me that again, Marcy thought, I’m going to punch him right in the mouth. She closed her eyes, shook her head. “Yes, it’s happened before.” She reopened her eyes in time to catch the knowing look that passed among all three officers. Just what is it you think you know? Marcy demanded silently. Trust me, you know nothing.
“So, it’s possible you could be mistaken this time as well, is it not?”
“No, it’s not poss—Yes, I guess it could be possible,” she said in the next breath, deciding she might as well tell them what they wanted to hear. She’d been a fool for thinking she could trust them or that they might be able to help her. Tears filled her eyes and fell the