They had been a dysfunctional family, but she and Kev had both believed that was better than a broken family. Considering the scars she could see in herself and her brother, maybe it would have been better if they had just let go.
But “what ifs” didn’t matter right now, not with Ethan missing. She got up and went back inside the hotel. She would check on whether there were any new developments, then head home so she could get back to her own research.
The command center was as busy as when she had left nearly an hour earlier. Prudence and Ernest were still at a table in the midst of their investigators. Her father and Star had arrived while she was with Kevin and were standing by themselves in a corner of the room. They were agitated, as though in the midst of a disagreement. Her father’s face was flushed, and Star stood stiffly, her short white hair standing on end like the crest of a cockatoo. Star turned and walked quickly toward the main door, silky-blue pants and top flowing behind her, a huge Louis Vuitton tote over her shoulder. She caught Aubrey watching her, changed direction as subtly as a navigator adjusting her course, and came toward her. The muscles in Star’s face shifted from tense to concerned.
“Well, hello, Aubrey,” she said, in her slow southern drawl. “I didn’t see you before. Is your mother here, too?”
“No. Just me.”
She brushed nonexistent hair back from her face with her jeweled fingers in what seemed to be a nervous or distracted gesture. There were dark circles under her blue eyes and a web of fine lines beneath her makeup that Aubrey hadn’t noticed the night before in the time-share apartment. She didn’t believe Star was genuinely concerned about Ethan and wondered what she was losing sleep over.
“I imagine her fiancé is a comfort to her,” Star said.
“We’re all trying to comfort each other.”
“I only ask because I care about her,” Star said, possibly picking up the coolness in Aubrey’s voice. “And, yes, perhaps I’m also feeling a little guilty that your father is here with me when your mother’s the one who could use his support.” Star patted her arm. “I’m not a witch, dear. I hope you’ll believe that.”
Not a witch, but certainly witchlike.
Her father stepped between them. “Hello, Aubrey,” he said with a formal nod, probably still angry about their argument the night before.
“Dad.”
“I’m going to get a cup of tea,” Star said. “Can I bring back something for either of you?” They both said no and thanked her, and Star left them.
Her father rubbed the back of his neck and surveyed the room, as though at a loss for something to say. “Quite an operation they put together,” he said. “You’ve got to give the Simmers that much.”
“What were you and Star arguing about?”
He pressed his lips together and stared at the door Star had left through. The flatness of his expression was very different from the passionate man in the photo that her mother had shown her this morning. A white knight upon a snowy stallion. But no more. At least not for Mama or Aubrey.
“Star’s exhausted,” he said. “We both are. It’s put us on edge.”
“I see.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound dismissive.” He touched her arm. “Why don’t we step outside?”
They left the room and found a couple of chairs at the end of the hallway.
“This is better,” he said, sitting down. “There are a lot of ears in there.”
“And you don’t want them to hear something?”
He looked down at the gold-and-blue swirl-patterned carpet. “You never know who’s on your team and who isn’t.”
A memory nagged at her. She had been eight and was playing in a neighborhood soccer league. Mama hadn’t been able to get to the game, but Dad was home from a long out-of-town trial and came to cheer her on. She was so proud of her handsome father shouting to her from the bleachers.
“Run, Princess!” Somehow, she got turned around and kicked the ball into her own team’s goal. She didn’t understand why her teammates were yelling at her, why some of the grown-ups had angry faces.
“Stupid kid,” one of the mothers said.
Her father glared at the woman, scooped Aubrey up, and carried her away from the field. He let her cry against his chest until she ran out of tears. Then he took her to Frazier’s and bought her a pistachio ice-cream sundae.
He told her something she had forgotten until now.
I’m proud of you for trying your best, Princess. That’s what matters. Sometimes things happen. You get confused. You want so much to help your team, but you end up hurting them. But you can’t keep punishing yourself. You have to try to move on.
Now, she couldn’t help but wonder what team he had hurt and whether he had ever moved on.
“Tell me about your mother,” he said, turning his attention from the carpet. His voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “How’s she holding up?”
Mama had been looking at photos of him this morning. Thinking of him, too. But was he genuinely concerned about her, or asking to be polite?
She met his eyes. Bloodshot like Kevin’s. “She’s doing okay.”
He let out a small sigh. “You don’t believe I have a right to worry about her, but I do. Especially after the attack against her by those people last night.”
“You attacked her, too, yesterday. Blamed her for Ethan going missing.”
“I was upset. I never had any doubt that your mother loves Ethan and only has the best intentions toward him. But the Coles are a couple of contemptible slanderers.”
“The Simmers seem to believe they’re behind the kidnapping.”
“They have their own reasons for diverting the investigation toward the Coles,” her father said. “It takes the heat off them.”
“You think the Simmers are involved?”
He shook his head. “I almost wish that were the case.”
“Then who do you think has Ethan?”
“Last night, you were very hard on me.”
Why was he changing the subject? “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was frustrated. Ethan’s missing, and I don’t understand why you—”