Vanish in Plain Sight. Marta Perry

COULDN’T HELP but compare the woman in front of him with the child in the photograph who’d taken such a hold on his emotions. The adult Marisa had a slender, delicate build, like the little girl. Her brown hair, a bit darker than the shade in the picture, reached her shoulders, curling slightly.

      The eyes in her oval face were those of the child in the picture—golden brown, with a touch of vulnerability that seared him. He couldn’t let anyone lean on him, especially not this vulnerable stranger with the familiar eyes.

      “Is something wrong?” She brushed her hair back, flushing slightly. “A smudge on my face?”

      “No.” It was his turn to feel embarrassed. “You just… I guess I was comparing you with the photo in the suitcase.”

      “Photo?” She was clearly at sea.

      “Adam didn’t tell you? There was a picture of your mother and you in the suitcase. That’s how we were able to identify the owner so quickly. I’m surprised Adam didn’t mention it.”

      “Maybe he did. I guess I found the news all a bit hard to take in.”

      “You must have dropped everything to get here so quickly.” Was it odd, her showing up so fast? He wasn’t sure.

      “Once I heard, I couldn’t think of anything else.” She rubbed her arms, as if she felt a chill. “My work is freelance, so I just packed it up and brought it. I couldn’t not come, once I heard.”

      He considered how that must have felt. “That almost sounds as if you were expecting something of the kind.”

      “Of course I wasn’t.”

      There was a hint of something held back in her tone that bothered him.

      No getting involved. Stay out of it. But he had to ask. “Did your mother know my uncle?”

      “I have no idea.” The brown eyes flashed. She clearly resented the implication.

      Had he been implying anything? He just wanted to understand this, so he could put it behind him.

      Marisa turned away, seeming to glance around the room almost at random, as if searching for something to take them away from an awkward place. “It looks as if you’re making good progress in here.”

      “I wasn’t, but once the police got into the act, the paneling came down pretty fast.” Almost instantly he regretted the careless words, because she paled, obviously understanding why the police had gotten involved.

      “We didn’t find anything.”

      He rushed the words. It didn’t help. His hands curled into fists. The whole situation angered him. Talking to this woman was like walking through a minefield, where any step could end up maiming someone.

      Relief flooded through him at the sound of a car. “That’ll be Adam.” He went quickly to the door.

      Adam got out of the police car, alone this time, and pulled out the suitcase. So, he was going to show it to her. Well, Marisa had probably as much right to it as anyone.

      “Adam.” He could only hope the relief didn’t show in his voice. “Ms. Angelo, this is Adam Byler.” He made introductions as Adam walked in. “Adam, Marisa Angelo. But I guess you’ve spoken on the phone.”

      Adam nodded, shaking hands gravely before swinging the suitcase onto the worktable where it had lain the previous day. Link was glad to retreat into the background while Adam went over the circumstances of finding the case and identifying her mother from the photograph.

      “Yes, Mr. Morgan told me about it.” Marisa reached toward the case, her hands hesitant. “May I see?”

      “Of course. We’ve already run a few tests on it, just to be on the safe side.” Adam took a step back, as if giving her space.

      Marisa opened the case. The photograph now lay on top, faceup, so that it was the first thing she saw. Link could hear the way her breath choked at the sight. His throat tightened in response.

      She picked up the photograph, holding it for a long moment, her fingers caressing the pictured faces. Then she cradled it against her chest.

      “This is mine.” She looked at Adam, as if expecting an argument.

      “I suppose it is.” His voice was gentle. “Or maybe more accurately your father’s, but we haven’t been able to reach him.”

      He knew Adam well. Maybe that was how he detected the hint of suspicion underlying the words.

      Marisa didn’t seem to. “Dad won’t mind if I have the picture. I’m sorry you weren’t able to reach him, but since he retired, he takes off in that RV of his at a moment’s notice.”

      “Doesn’t he have a cell phone?” Adam asked the question lightly, as if intent on not alarming her.

      “He does, but half the time he doesn’t check it from one week to the next.” She didn’t seem to find that odd, which argued that father and daughter weren’t very close. “I’ve left a message for him to call me, and I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from him.”

      “That’ll be fine.” Adam glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late, and I know this is a lot to take in. If you don’t mind staying over in the area tonight, maybe we can meet in my office tomorrow to talk things over.”

      She looked at him, blinking a little. “Tonight? I’ll be here longer than that.”

      Adam seemed taken aback. “That’s really not necessary, you know. We’ll continue to look into the situation, and we’ll let you know if and when we learn anything. I’m sure you want to get back to your own life.”

      In other words, Adam didn’t want her here, dogging his every step. Link couldn’t agree more.

      Marisa’s shoulders stiffened. She looked very deliberately from him to Adam. “I can see why you feel that way, but I have no intention of going anywhere. I intend to stay in Springville until I know why my mother’s suitcase was inside the wall of this house.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      MARISA COULD SEE HOW unwelcome that announcement was to both men. With her unfortunate knack for empathy, she could easily put herself in their places.

      The police chief was simplest to figure. He clearly wanted a free hand with his investigation, and he didn’t want to tell her anything he didn’t have to. Not that he suspected her—he could hardly believe that a five-year-old child would be involved in her mother’s disappearance.

      But her father was another matter. Didn’t the police automatically suspect the spouse when a woman disappeared?

      Or died. She forced herself to finish that thought.

      “Ms. Angelo, I hate to see you do that.” The police chief sounded as harassed at the thought of her staying as she expected him to. “You’ll just be kicking your heels around here to no purpose. It’s hardly likely that we can find anything else out about what happened after all these years.”

      “You found the suitcase,” she pointed out.

      “Link did.” Chief Byler shot a look at the other man. “If he hadn’t been renovating the house, we wouldn’t have known anything about it.”

      “But you have to investigate.” A thought struck her with the force of a blow. “You must have investigated then. Well, I mean not you personally.” He was far too young for that, probably not much more than in his early thirties. “But the police must have.”

      She’d never known. She could only wonder at herself. A child accepted what she was told by the authority figures in her life, of course. But later, when she’d wanted to understand, it hadn’t occurred to her to ask her father what the police had thought.

      “True, they did.” Adam Byler leaned against the rough table, seeming to resign himself to the