CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Nancy sat upright on the couch, staring straight ahead. Ray had lighted the fire, and the flames were beginning to lick at the thick twigs and broken pieces of branches. Yesterday. It was just yesterday, wasn't it? She and Michael had been raking the front lawn.

'This is the last time we'll have this job this winter, Mike,' she'd said. 'I guess just about all the leaves are down now.'

He'd nodded soberly. Then, without her telling him, he'd picked out the biggest chunks of branch and thick twigs from the pile of leaves. "These are good for fires,' he commented. He'd dropped the iron rake, and it had fallen with the metal prongs facing upward. But when Missy came running from the driveway, he'd quickly turned over the rake. With an apologetic half-smile he'd said, 'Daddy always says it's dangerous to leave a rake like that.'

He was so protective of Missy. He was so good. He was so like Ray. Nancy realized that in some incredible way there was comfort in knowing that Mike was with Missy. If there was any way to do it, he'd take care of her. He was such a resourceful little kid. If they were outside somewhere now, he'd make sure that her jacket was zipped up. He'd try to cover her. He'd…

'Oh, God.'

She didn't know she'd spoken aloud until Ray looked up, startled. He was sitting in his big chair. His face looked so strained. He seemed to know that she didn't want him to touch her now – that she needed to assimilate and evaluate. She must not believe that the children were dead. They could not be dead. But they must be found before anything happened.

Dorothy was watching her too. Dorothy, who suddenly looked so much older and so lost. She had taken Dorothy's affection and love without giving in return. She had held Dorothy at arm's length, made it clear that Dorothy was not to intrude on their closed family circle. She didn't want the children to have a grandmother substitute. She didn't want anyone to replace Mother.

I have been selfish, Nancy thought. I have not seen her need. How odd that it was so clear now. How odd to even think about that now when they were sitting here, so helpless, so powerless. Then why was something reassuring her? Why was she feeling some tiny lick of hope? What was the source of her comfort?

'Rob Legler,' she said. 'I told you that I saw Rob Legler at the lake this morning.'

'Yes,' Ray said.

'Is it possible I was dreaming? Does the doctor believe that I saw him – that I was telling the truth?'

Ray considered, then decided to be honest. There was a strength in Nancy, a directness that wouldn't tolerate evasion.

'I believe that the doctor feels that you gave an exact account of what happened. And, Nancy, you should know, Rob Legler has definitely been seen near here both last night and this morning.'

'Rob Legler would not hurt the children.' Nancy 's voice was matter-of-fact, flatly positive. That was her area of comfort, if he took them, if he was responsible, he wouldn't hurt them. I know it.'

Lendon came back into the room, Jonathan close behind him. Jonathan realized that he inadvertently looked for Dorothy first. Her hands were dug into her pockets. He suspected they were gripping into fists. She had always struck him as a remarkably efficient, self-sufficient person – traits that he admired without finding them necessarily endearing in a woman.

When Jonathan was honest with himself, he realized that an essential part of his relationship with Emily had been his constant awareness of her need for him. She never could unscrew the cap from a jar or find her car keys or balance her checking account. He had basked in his role as the indulgent, able, constant fixer, doer, solver. It had taken the past two years to make him begin to realize that he'd never understood the steel shaft of strength at the core of Emily's femininity: the way she'd accepted the doctor's verdict with only a sympathetic glance at him; the way she'd never once admitted to pain. Now, seeing Dorothy with her mute anguish so tangible, he ached somehow to comfort her.

He was diverted by a question from Ray. 'What was the phone call?'

'Chief Coffin went out,' Jonathan said evasively. it's all right. Nancy knows that Rob Legler has been seen near here.'

'That's why the Chief left. Legler was chased and left a car he'd stolen two miles down on 6A. But don't worry, he won't get far on foot in this weather.'

'How do you feel, Nancy?' Lendon studied her closely. She was more composed than he'd expected.

'I'm all right. I talked a lot about Carl, didn't I?'

'Yes.'

'There was something I was trying to remember; something important I wanted to tell you.'

Lendon kept his voice matter-of-fact. 'Several times you said, "I don't believe… I don't believe…" Do you know why you would say that?'

Nancy shook her head. 'No.' She got up and walked restlessly to the window, it's so dark, it would be hard to find anything or anybody now.'

Movement was desirable. She wanted to try to clear her head to be able to think. She looked down, realizing for the first time that she was still wearing the fluffy woollen robe. 'I'm going to change,' she said. 'I want to get dressed.'

'Do you…?' Dorothy bit her lip. She'd been about to ask if Nancy wanted her to go upstairs with her.

'I'll be all right,' Nancy said gently. They were going to find Rob Legler. She was sure of it. When they did, she wanted to be dressed. She wanted to go to him wherever they took him. She wanted to say, 'Rob, I know you wouldn't hurt the children. Do you want money? What do you need? Tell me where they are and we'll give you anything.'

Upstairs in the bedroom, she took off her robe. Mechanically, she walked over to the closet and hung it up. For an instant, she felt lightheaded and leaned her forehead against the coolness of the wall. The bedroom door opened, and she heard Ray cry, ' Nancy!' His voice was startled as he hurried over to her, turned her to him and put his arms around her. She felt the scratchy warmth of his sports shirt against her skin and the growing intensity of his grasp.

'I'm all right,' she said. 'Really…'

' Nancy!' He tilted her head up. His mouth closed over hers. As her lips parted, she arched her body against his.

It had been like this from the beginning. From that first night when he'd come to dinner and afterwards they'd walked down to the lake. It had been chilly, and she'd shivered. His coat was open, and he'd laughed and pulled her against him, wrapping the coat around so that it covered her too. When he'd kissed her that first time, it had been so inevitable. She'd wanted him so much, right from the beginning. Not like Carl… Poor Carl… she'd only tolerated him; felt guilty about not wanting him, and after Lisa was born, he had never again… not like a husband. Had he sensed her revulsion? She'd always wondered. It was part of her guilt.

'I love you.' She didn't know she'd said it – words said so often, words she murmured to Ray even in her sleep.

'I love you too. Oh, Nancy. It must have been so bad for you. I thought I understood, but I didn't…'

'Ray, will we get the children back?' Her voice shook, and she felt her whole body begin to tremble.

His arms tightened. 'I don't know, darling. I don't know. But remember this: No matter what happens, we have each other. Nothing can change that. They've just come by for the Chief. They have Rob Legler at the station house. Dr Miles went with them, and Jonathan and I are going over too.'

'I want to go. Maybe he'll tell me…'

'No. Jonathan has an idea, and I think it could work. We've got to find out. Maybe Rob has an accomplice who has the children. If he sees you, he might refuse to say anything, especially if he was involved last time.'

'Ray… ' Nancy heard the despair in her voice.