“I’d kill for a muffin.”
That had her rolling her eyes and smiling when she greeted Miss Gina in the kitchen.
“Well, well, well . . .”
Melanie kissed Miss Gina’s cheek. “Good morning.”
The older woman simply smiled.
Then Wyatt kissed her cheek. “Good morning, Miss Gina.”
She started to laugh. “Well, you two should get laid more often.”
Melanie’s jaw dropped. “Miss Gina!”
“What?” There wasn’t an ounce of remorse on the woman’s face.
The warmth Wyatt had placed inside her the night before refused to go away, and Melanie wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon.
Melanie found the muffins and put one on a plate before setting it in front of him. She moved to the coffee pot and lifted it in offering. When he nodded, she found two cups and poured them both a portion. “I see Mr. Lewis’s car is still here.”
“Yeah, he said he’d be leaving by noon.”
Melanie found the creamer, poured a generous portion inside her cup before letting the hot caffeine do its job. “Where’s Hope?”
Miss Gina glanced out the kitchen window. “Outside.”
When Melanie looked, she didn’t see any sign of her. With coffee cup in hand, Melanie slid beside Wyatt, took a bite of his muffin, and went in search of her daughter.
The screen door slapped against the back door with a familiar twang. The slightly cool morning felt good on her skin . . . or maybe it was the sex from the night before.
Melanie smiled as she walked off the back porch and around the house. The tire swing Wyatt had managed to place in the maple tree sat abandoned. It swayed slightly, as if her daughter had recently sat on it playing. The dirt pile, otherwise known as a garden, sat empty . . . no sign of Hope. Melanie called out her name with no reply. When she entered the house again, she set her coffee cup aside and climbed the stairs to their room. Hope’s nightgown was tossed to the side, a clothing drawer opened halfway in what looked like a typical haste to get on with her summer day.
Still no Hope.
A tiny bit of concern started to weaken the euphoria Wyatt had given her.
Melanie found Wyatt and Miss Gina in deep conversation when she walked back into the kitchen. “She’s not out there.”
Miss Gina tilted her head. “Hope?”
“Yeah, she’s not in her room either.”
“That’s strange, she was just in here not twenty, thirty minutes before you walked in.”
The three of them stopped what they were doing and all headed out back. “You check the garage,” Melanie instructed Wyatt. “I’ll see if she’s by the climbing tree.”
Even though she’d been given strict instructions to never climb a tree without another person with her, anything could have happened.
Melanie called Hope’s name several times en route to the tree the three of them had climbed only a few days before.
When there wasn’t any evidence of her there, that little tickle of worry started to blossom, and the hair on her neck stood on end.
Melanie ran the path back to the inn, fully expecting to find Hope standing beside Miss Gina and Wyatt.
Melanie’s feet faltered when she caught sight of Wyatt and Miss Gina walking in separate directions calling Hope’s name.
She started to tremble. “Hope!” Her voice lifted above the treetops, her cry anything but sane. “Hope!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time Jo arrived, Melanie was a babbling mess.
Wyatt stood aside and watched as Jo jumped from her squad car and engulfed her friend.
“I can’t find her, Jo.”
Jo took Melanie’s head in her hands and stared her friend down. “We will find her.”
“But she was . . . damn it . . . where is she?” Melanie’s tears kept coming.
“Mel! Stop. Stop! Dry up those damn tears and focus. You’re no good to Hope like this.”
Jo’s words must have sunk in. Melanie visibly shook as she sucked in a quick breath and let it out slowly.
“Okay.”
A second squad car drove up, lights blazing.
Jo moved past Melanie and walked to Miss Gina’s side. “Tell me again, from the beginning. Where did you last see her?”
Wyatt heard the recall of Hope’s last known moments for the third time. The need to move, the need to stop talking and search the woods crawled under his skin. He held Melanie’s hand in a tight squeeze.
“And who are you?” Jo turned her attention to the one guest at the inn.
“Patrick Lewis.”
Jo stared at the man. “When was the last time you saw Hope?”
“She ran through when I was eating breakfast.”
Miss Gina placed a hand on Jo’s arm. “Mr. Lewis heard us yelling for Hope and came down from upstairs.”
Deputy Emery joined Jo on the porch.
“Why aren’t we looking for her?” Melanie asked Wyatt.
“We will, baby.” He kissed the top of her head.
Gravel kicked up again, this time with a cloud of smoke that indicated cavalry arriving.
Jo turned around. “What the . . .”