“I doubt whether the entire staff of a hospital would lie. What would be the reason? Some sort of misguided loyalty to a criminal?”
“We don’t know who made the mistake. Another thing that puzzles me is how Sherry was able to recognize that doll as Dulcy.”
“She and my wife worked together to decorate Sherry and her husband, Leo’s latest house. She saw a great deal of Dulcy when she was a baby, and she’s been a good friend ever since. She’s seen all the computer enhancements the detective produced. She’d have known Dulcy’s face at almost the same moment I did. What I don’t know is why she didn’t recognize the doll earlier.” He considered. “Or why Rick and Zoe didn’t.”
“I just put her out today when I knew you were coming.” She sighed. “Ironic. I really rushed so that she’d be there especially for you.” She leaned back and closed her own eyes, trying to recall where she had seen the child, remembering instead only the child herself. She wasn’t certain she should tell Logan about the picture in her head.
He seemed able to read her mind. “If you saw this child, tell me where, how, what she looked like.”
Molly opened her eyes, looked at him and made her decision. “She was the saddest, gravest little girl I have ever seen in my life.”
He sucked in his breath. He gripped the arms of the chair as though he’d like to rend the leather with his bare hands. “Sad how?”
Molly closed her eyes again. This time she saw more. “It was in a park somewhere. I remember there were lots of children swinging, sliding, one of those little merry-goround things, I think. A friend of mine and I were on a bus tour with a bunch of other local people on our way to Aspen and Vail. We must have stopped there to picnic. This child was sitting alone on the grass. She had a book in her hand—not a children’s book. It was thick and there were no pictures on the cover.”
MacMillan snorted. “Come now, she would hardly have been reading a book.”
“Why not? Children learn to read early these days. Maybe there were pictures inside. She wasn’t smiling. She looked up at me, right into my eyes. I wanted to stoop down and hug her, but something warned me she wouldn’t allow that.” She looked up at him. “That’s when I heard someone call out ‘Dulcy’ and she closed the book, stood up, brushed off her jeans and walked away. She didn’t run, she walked, quite calmly, the way an adult walks to a business meeting. She wasn’t like any child I’ve ever seen. So self-contained. I knew I had to try to capture that self-possession.”
“Where was this?”
Molly threw up her hands in frustration. “I simply can’t remember.”
“And I’m supposed to take your word for all this over a licensed private investigator’s?”
“Look, let me go through my photographs from my trips. Maybe something will click.” She hesitated a moment. “You never tried to find your daughter-in-law after the detective said Dulcy was dead?”
“No.” His voice was flat, hard. “She made her choice. I stood by her throughout her trial even though she killed my boy. Zoe has never forgiven me for that. But when I found out she’d abandoned Dulcy to die…” He cleared his throat. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn what happens to her.”
“But if Dulcy is still alive and with her?”
“If—and I still think it unlikely—there was a mix-up or a cover-up, then I will hunt them down and bring my granddaughter home. Tiffany can go to Outer Mongolia for all I care.”
Molly saw the muscles along his jaw tighten until they stood out like steel cables. She shivered. This man would make a dangerous enemy.
“Will you tell me something?” she asked. “I can understand that you were startled when you picked up the doll, but frankly, I thought you overreacted big time. It’s only a doll.”
“Only a doll?” He stared at her in genuine surprise. “It was a.corpse!”
“But…”
“I felt as though you were playing some sort of sick joke at her—my—expense. I see now that wasn’t true. Please accept my apologies. I don’t usually fly off the handle like that.”
“Apology accepted. Listen, maybe the child who died looked enough like Dulcy so that the hospital staff made an honest mistake.”
Logan shook his head. “Forgive me. I stopped hoping a long time ago.”
“Don’t let yourself hope then. But for pity’s sake, check it out.”
“I plan to. If Dulcy is alive, I must find her and bring her home. But I’m not sure how much more disappointment I can take.”
Looking into his eyes, Molly realized how difficult it must be for such a man to reveal this sign of weakness, not only to a woman but a comparative stranger. She felt sympathy for him in the same moment she knew how deeply he would resent her expressing it.
Molly sighed. She couldn’t leave this problem alone any more than she could abandon this strange, lonely man. “I think the first thing to do is talk to your detective. See if you still believe him. Maybe take Rick and Zoe with you.”
“I don’t plan to tell Zoe any of this until I’m certain the child is alive and we have some hope of finding her.”
“Then I’ll go with you.” There. The die was cast, the words were spoken. She could only hope he’d refuse her offer. But he didn’t—not exactly.
“I can’t ask you to—”
Just then, the driveway alarm sounded. Logan MacMillan started as though she’d stuck him with a pin.
A moment later, Molly went to the front door and opened it.
“Gram, I know it’s late, but I had to say good-night to Maxie.” A coltish prepubescent girl with chestnut hair straight down her back flew into the room, followed by an exasperated woman who might have been Molly twenty years earlier. The child stopped when she saw Molly was not alone.
“Sorry, Mom. We were in the neighborhood. I tried to stop her,” the woman said, and grinned.
“No sweat. Anne Crown, this is Logan MacMillan. Logan, my daughter.” She smiled at the child. “And this is my granddaughter, Elizabeth.”
Logan, who’d stood when Anne and Elizabeth came in, nodded.
“Hello,” Anne said. “Hope we’re not interrupting anything.”
“Hi,” Elizabeth said, then turning to Molly, “Got any carrots in the fridge?”
“Yes. Don’t forget Eeyore,” Molly called after the child, already disappearing into the kitchen. They heard the refrigerator open and a. moment later shut. “And don’t slam the—”
The back door slammed.
“Please sit down, Mr. MacMillan,” Anne said. “We can only stay a minute. I have to get home to fix dinner.” She glanced at her watch. “Phil will probably have to go back to the office. It’s the end of the quarter. No rest for the poor tax accountant.” She shrugged. “I had to pick Elizabeth up at the Fitzgeralds’. Anytime we’re close to Mom’s, Elizabeth insists on stopping by.”
“The attraction is Maxie, her pony, not me.” Molly laughed. Looking at Logan, she realized he had retreated into his shell.
The back door slammed once more. “Okay, old mom. Maxie pig and Eeyore pig are stuffed. We can go home now. I’ve got tons of homework.”
“You spending the night Friday?” Molly asked Elizabeth as she followed the pair to the door.
“What’re