Then There Were Three. Jeanie London

know you’re going to kill me.” She cut right to the chase. “I’ll probably be grounded forever, but please give me a chance to explain—”

      “Violet, we can discuss everything when I get there,” Mom shot back, suddenly sounding like Mom again. “Right now all I’m interested in is your safety and your location.”

      “I’m in New Orleans—”

      “I know you’re in New Orleans, and I’m glad you’re okay. Where are you in New Orleans?”

      Mom did not want coordinates. Oh, man. Here goes…

      “With Dad.” Violet watched the figure in the distance, still slipping in and out of the light from the streetlamps.

      “You’re with your father now?”

      “Yes.” Sort of, anyway.

      “Okay.” More silence. “You’ll be safe until I get there?”

      “You don’t have to come—”

      “Violet Nicole Bell, I’m not sure what part of this you think is acceptable, but—”

      “Violet Nicole Bell DiLeo. You forgot—”

      “I did not forget anything, young lady.”

      Whoa! Violet pulled the phone from her ear and glanced at it. She’d never heard that tone before.

      “I would have explained if you’d given me the chance,” Mom continued, her voice a raw whisper. “All you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to put your safety at risk by running away.”

      “Really, Mom? Really?” The words were out of Violet’s mouth before she could stop them. “Like I haven’t traveled before.”

      “We’ll discuss this in person. Now please put your father on. And don’t vanish. I’ll speak with you when we’re through.”

      Violet didn’t have a chance to respond because one second her dad was in front of her and the next he was gone. Oh, man. She was lagging because she wasn’t paying attention. Did he turn the corner? She started to run.

      “Dad can’t talk right now. Can we call you back?”

      “First give me the details about where you’re staying, and a phone number, too—”

      “Gotta go. Battery’s dying.” She tried not to sound winded, but she was starting to breath heavy. “I’ll charge my phone and call you back, okay?”

      “Violet, don’t—”

      Click.

      Calling back wasn’t okay. That much Violet knew, but she had to find her dad before she lost him completely.

      “Don’t worry, Mom,” she whispered, even though Mom wasn’t there to hear her.

      CHAPTER TWO

      MEGAN BELL SANK INTO the chair, relief sapping every drop of strength from her legs. She stared disbelieving at the BlackBerry as the display darkened.

      Violet.

      Then she let her eyes flutter shut, blocked out everything but the sound of her daughter’s voice, impatient, irritable, alive… Okay, Violet was alive.

      Start there, Megan, she warned herself. Don’t get too far ahead here. Violet’s alive.

      Since this whole nightmare began, Megan had received three texts. She’d tracked credit card purchases to piece together a trajectory that had her daughter heading to New Orleans of all places, but until she’d heard Violet’s voice…

      “Take a deep breath, dear, and tell me what she said.”

      Megan did exactly that then forced herself to open her eyes to find Marie looking as relieved as Megan felt. As always, Marie’s presence had a calming effect.

      A slender, stately woman with bright white hair that fell in gentle waves around her face, Marie Gleason was an honorary grandmother to Violet and dearest friend in the world to Megan. She was such an important part of their lives, in fact, that after her husband had passed away nearly six years ago, she’d come to live with Megan and Violet, traveling to whatever part of the world Megan’s job took them. As a project consultant for nonprofit organizations, she worked all over the world.

      “I’m good.” She forced the words out, as much to reassure Marie as to convince herself. “Violet’s with… him.”

      Too many years had passed for Megan to wrap her mouth around his name so easily. Years of mental preparation to explain the situation to Violet about why she’d chosen not to tell him about his daughter. But all Megan’s careful preparation for an unavoidable conversation was wasted since she hadn’t anticipated the impulsivity of a headstrong teenager.

      Marie crossed the room and sat on the ottoman in front of Megan. “Well, you’ve known it was coming. I’m surprised Violet lasted this long. A girl’s relationship with her father is so important. You know that.”

      “I know.” Her own father had influenced so much in her life, rocky though their relationship had been for the past fifteen years.

      Reaching forward, Marie slipped her hands around Megan’s and gave a supportive squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, dear. You can only control so much.”

      Megan nodded. She knew that, too.

      Had it only been twenty-four hours since this nightmare had begun? Twenty-four hours since Violet hadn’t returned from her friend’s house, where she was supposed to have spent the night during their spring break from school. She’d been texting at all the appropriate times—at night before bed, in the morning when she awoke—so Megan had had no reason to suspect her daughter wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

      If she’d had any clue that Violet had unearthed the hidden past, Megan might have been able to address the situation before it had gotten out of control. The very thought made her struggle for another breath.

      Out of control? This situation was a train wreck.

      “If she had questions, why wouldn’t she ask me, Marie? Why all this subterfuge and drama?”

      “I’m as surprised by that as you are,” Marie admitted. “By the subterfuge, anyway. Violet doesn’t usually mince words. I’m not surprised much by the drama. She is fourteen.”

      Fair enough. Violet was an only child, used to exercising a fair amount of control over her life. While Megan took her parenting responsibilities seriously, she felt equally strongly that their daily lives should take everyone’s needs into consideration. She liked to think of it as a democratic dictatorship, with the dictator part only surfacing if all attempts at negotiation failed.

      She’d never wanted to shelter or control her daughter the way she’d been sheltered and controlled growing up. She wanted Violet to learn to explore and enjoy life, not live by someone else’s narrow interpretation of right and wrong. To have balance and flexibility and accountability and appreciation for whatever life threw her way.

      And, Megan supposed, she was getting a taste of her philosophy in action now. Violet clearly hadn’t thought about the effect of her actions on anyone except herself. She hadn’t even considered school, which would be back in session next week.

      “We’ve been dismissing all her moodiness as hormonal.” Megan groaned, feeling stupid and guilty and horribly powerless. “How could I have missed this?”

      “You’re not a mind reader, dear. If Violet had something brewing and wanted to keep it from you, then she would have.”

      “No argument there. This had to have been percolating for a while. How she even managed to find out who he was…” This was all Megan’s fault. For trying to cover all the bases.

      If she hadn’t asked her attorney to add a clause in her will entrusting Marie, as Violet’s guardian,