Shane sighed, looking at the clock again. Nine-thirty. Maybe he should try calling Corinne’s phone. Lacie did have a tendency to be a bit forgetful with hers. It was probably sitting in the pocket of her skirt at the bottom of her hamper. The thought made him smile.
Then again, maybe he shouldn’t. It might seem too possessive. Lacie might think that he was checking up on her. She certainly didn’t seem to appreciate it when Davidson acted over-protective. The situations were totally different, he knew, but he was averse to anything that might put him in the same light as Davidson until Lacie fully accepted their croie bond and could understand.
He took his cell out and placed it on the desk. He could wait a little longer. He would force himself to.
Flipping up the screen on his laptop, he decided to check out a few things. Ian had managed to get a lot of information over the past couple of days, but he had his hands full, too. In his typical orderly fashion, Shane created a list of items on which to follow-up as he perused the data Ian had already provided. Ian was the uncontested digital genius to be sure – he could bypass any security system given enough time – but Shane was no slouch, either. Research was a big part of what he did, too.
He interlaced his fingers and gave them a stretch. Ian had concentrated on Davidson at Shane’s request, but the more he read about Lacie’s self-appointed big brother, the more agitated he became. Instead, Shane’s fingers glided over the slick black keys, using Ian’s custom search engine to find out more about the woman he would soon be calling his wife.
Several hits came up right away. All generic things from public sources, all good. Pictures of Lacie with her “kids” at Maggie’s farm. A graduation announcement placed in the paper by her proud parents on achieving her Bachelor’s in Elementary Education. A wedding portrait, where Lacie stood as maid of honor to Mikaela (Daniels) Davidson.
Shane froze at that last image. At first glance, Lacie and Mikaela looked identical. They had similar features, and were of similar build, but Lacie was a bit shorter, curvier. But it was the hair that really did it – both the same shade of golden sunlight at dusk, cut in the waves layered and angled around their faces.
He revised his search to include Mikaela. He brought up the obituary announcement and placed that picture side by side with the wedding photo. Though chronologically only a little more than three years had passed, Mikaela looked much older. There were small lines around her face, a soulful, haunting look in her eyes despite the smile. Her hair was back to what Shane suspected was her natural color – a light brown, much shorter than it had been in the wedding photo.
One of his brothers had mentioned that Mikaela bore a resemblance to Lacie, but he had no idea just how striking it had been. The ache in his chest intensified and a cold shiver slithered down his spine.
No longer worried about appearing overly protective, Shane picked up his phone and called Corinne. She picked up on the first ring.
“Corinne? This is Shane Callaghan. Can I speak with Lacie please? She’s not answering her phone.”
The brief moment of silence on the other end of the line sent waves of foreboding through him. “Corinne?”
“She’s not with you?”
It was Shane’s turn to pause in surprise. “No. She told me she was spending the evening with you.”
“That’s what I thought, too, but she’s not here. When she didn’t answer her cell I figured she was with you...”
“When is the last time you spoke with her?”
“This afternoon. She texted me about the roses you sent.”
“Before the planning meeting or after?”
“Before. It was right before her afternoon class.”
Shane used his years of training and experience to tamp down the sudden rush of panic he felt. His psychic sensors were screaming. “Corinne, stay there in case she calls. I’m going to drive over to the school. Maybe she had car trouble or something.”
He hoped.
Chapter Fifteen
Lacie’s VW was the only vehicle in the lot, but the asphalt was covered in wet leaves and an assortment of twig and branches from the storm. None of the lot lights were on; Shane angled his vehicle so that the Passat was bathed in the glow of his headlights, but he knew it was empty before he even got out.
He checked it out anyway. The rain had slowed to a constant, gentle shower. The lightning and thunder that racked the valley earlier had moved toward the northeast. Occasional glimpses of eerie white-gold strikes backlit the clouds, but they were too far away now to be heard.