4720 Miller Road
Pascagoula, Mississippi; 8:15 p.m.
Irene sat on the sofa, the family photo albums spread on the coffee table in front of her. Addy was disappointed Irene had begged off the invitation to the Henderson dinner. But Irene just couldn’t face Wyatt Henderson tonight.
The Prescott woman was still missing.
How could Irene possibly look the sheriff himself in the eye, particularly if the subject came up? And it would come up. Everyone was still talking about it. The newspaper printed something about the ongoing case every day.
She had to change the channel each time an update appeared on the news. It was just too painful. All the local channels were avidly following the investigation.
Knowing that woman could be hurt or dead tore at Irene’s heart. She prayed a dozen times a day for Cherry Prescott’s safe return.
If this was her fault.
Irene closed her eyes, fought the tears. Please, please, don’t let this be because of what she had done.
Dabbing at her eyes, Irene opened the oldest of the photo albums. A smile spread across her trembling lips. Addy had been such a beautiful baby.
The pictures of Carl holding her were some of Irene’s favorites. Her husband had been afraid to hold the baby at first. Addy had looked so small in his big hands. From day one she had been a daddy’s girl.
Irene’s heart ached. She wished Carl were here now. He would know what to do.
Don’t you worry none, Irene, it’s all going to be fine.
How she wished she could hear him say those words tonight.
These last ten years without him had been so very difficult. Many times she had considered doing exactly as Addy wanted and moving to Huntsville. Living near her daughter would be so much better than staying here in this lonely old house.
Buthewould never stand for it.
Irene couldn’t go.
She was a prisoner.
That was what happened when a woman allowed herself to make deals with the devil.
She sentenced herself to hell.
16
712 Canal Street; 9:30 p.m.
Wyatt couldn’t take his eyes off Adeline. She’d worn her usual, jeans and a tee. Didn’t matter to her that everyone else wore their Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, including him. Addy was Addy and she didn’t change who she was for anyone.
Right now, she was deep in conversation with his mom and sisters-in-law while they cleaned up the kitchen. He’d offered to help but his mother had insisted that no men were allowed in her kitchen. Watching from his position in the living room where the men were lamenting the latest political scuttlebutt and drinking spiced cider, he smiled as Adeline gestured magnanimously. She never had been able to talk without her hands.
The Christmas music playing in the background prevented him from overhearing the women’s conversation. But that didn’t really matter; watching her was entertainment enough. More so than what she wore, her hair had held him mesmerized since he’d picked her up at that shabby motel. She’d worn it down and his fingers had itched all evening to tangle into that long mass and just get lost.
God, how he’d missed her. He’d tried not to. Especially after that first year. For nine long years he had focused on his work to prevent obsessing about her. He’d been successful, for the most part. He’d dated. Even had a six-month relationship a couple of years ago. But he just hadn’t been ableto make himself feel for anyone else what he had—no—what he still felt for Adeline Cooper.
His brothers and father had urged him to move on. To get her out of his system. His mom was the only one who’d understood how he felt. She glanced at him now and smiled. He knew what she was thinking, but Wyatt was relatively certain that getting her hopes up was a bad idea. A really bad idea for all concerned.
Adeline ... Addy—he’d called her Addy back then, he might as well now. She refused to talk about the past. As a cop, she was still the same in many ways. Like when he’d taken her to the impound yard to see Prescott’s car. She’d climbed in and sat behind the wheel—just sat there—for long enough to have the staff whispering among themselves. But that was Addy. She liked to get the feel of a case firsthand. Liked to touch the things the victim had last touched.
In the beginning of her career, the other deputies had made fun of her seemingly bizarre need to feel the evidence and the scene. Wyatt had exchanged heated words with more than one of his colleagues when Addy hadn’t been looking. He would have done anything to protect her.
Then he’d let her down in the worst way. But it had been the only way to save her.