While the phone rang, Delaney approached Jasper and said something to him.
It was irrational, the rage that tiny action triggered. He knew jealousy had no place here when his niece was missing. He couldn’t help his frustration that Delaney would even speak to Jaz after he’d been MIA for months. And Jasper, who’d done literally nothing to protect his daughter except dump her and then take off, was now acting like some freaking knight on a white horse.
Noah wanted to punch his brother. He wanted to punch Norton, who was chatting with his team while his little girl’s life was in danger. Where was the sense of urgency?
More than anything, Noah wanted Charlotte home, in his arms.
He wanted to make sure she was safe and protected, like he’d promised her.
Once again, he’d allowed himself to get distracted by a pretty girl, and someone he loved had paid the price.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The vultures had arrived.
Delaney pulled back the curtain just enough to peer through the window. Three news vans lined the street, reporters gazing at the Aylett house in search of tragedy. Camera crews huddled nearby, chatting, some laughing as if this were a party instead of the scene of a kidnapping.
Thank heavens for the yellow police tape and the stern-faced officers who kept them at bay.
It didn’t matter that reporters were there. What mattered was that Charlotte was missing, and Delaney was packing her bags because she had nothing else to do with her hands.
She folded another shirt and placed it in her suitcase. The house had grown crowded with people who actually belonged here—Noah, his friend Richard, Jasper, and Mason—the police officer who’d responded to her car accident and who, she’d learned, was an old school friend of Jasper’s. They were all downstairs, their deep voices a constant rumble beneath her feet as they shared information and discussed strategy.
The longer the four men had talked, the more of an outsider Delaney had felt. She doubted any of them had noticed whenshe’d retreated up the stairs. Not that it mattered how they treated her. Nothing mattered except getting Charlotte back.
She slumped onto the side of the bed, gazing at this room she’d loved since she’d first seen it, the old four-poster, the walnut-stained bureau, the pretty chair and table by the window. It was bright and cheerful, and she’d felt at home here. Now, everything seemed to carry a pall. The very air was thick with terror, the house empty without Charlotte’s pitter-pattering feet and lighthearted chatter.
Charlotte was out there somewhere, probably terrified, while Delaney sat in her bedroom feeling sorry for herself.
She closed her eyes.Please, dear God, please save her and bring her home.
Tears leaked from between Delaney’s eyelids as she entreated the one who knew exactly where Charlotte was.Take care of her until she comes home, Lord. You are able. Please, please…She didn’t know what else to pray but sat there a long time, begging the Lord for Charlotte’s life.
When she was spent, she stood and zipped the suitcases closed. If Noah wanted her to go, she was ready, but she didn’t plan to leave Driftwood until Charlotte was safe. She could get a hotel room. She had a little money saved. If she had to cash her father’s check, then she would. She didn’t care about proving anything to anyone.
None of that mattered anymore.
The murmur of male voices grew louder as Delaney descended the stairs and approached the living room. She paused at the threshold.
Noah stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, his face neutral but his eyes blazing with frustration and worry. Richard sat on the couch. Jasper paced. He’d run his fingers through his hair so often that it was standing on end. Mason leaned against the wall, still in uniform, his expression grim.
They were mostly quiet, as if they’d run out of ideas.
“Is someone looking at all of Hayes’s properties?” Richard asked.
“All?” Jasper’s volume was too high. “How many does he have?”
“I don’t know.” Richard’s voice was almost fatherly. “He’s very wealthy, so I’d guess more than one.”
Mason pushed off from the wall. “Someone’s following that thread. The FBI has been called in, and?—”
“It’s not enough!” Noah’s voice broke on the last word, the raw pain in it making Delaney’s stomach turn over.
Nobody seemed to know what to say.
She cleared her throat, and four heads swiveled in her direction. Noah’s eyes met hers, and something flickered across his face. Relief?
She was probably projecting.
