“She walked out on me when I was eleven, so I guess two decades of silence counts as not talking.” Leah shifted in her seat, obviously uncomfortable. Harper was tempted to simply drop the topic, but she couldn’t let it go.
“And yet you talk now, she’s living with you, helping with your daughter—” Harper frowned, trying to sort out her confused emotions. “How did you make that happen? How do you make it work? Was it because she changed?”
Leah drew in a breath, glanced at Harper. “Ruby will never change. But she does occasionally bend a little—for Emily’s sake, not mine. And I… well, I’m still angry with her, hell, I still don’t trust her. She practically promised Emily she’d win a ribbon at the fair, but when that didn’t happen—” She gave a quick, angry shake of her head. “Anyway, as soon as she lets Emily down, Ruby takes off and I have to pick up the pieces.” She sighed. “But I guess we have enough common ground that we make it work, even if it’s only baby steps.”
“Baby steps,” Harper mused.
“Is this about your father? Luka mentioned that he wasn’t happy that you were working a case involving one of his parishioners. Is it hard for him, a minister, seeing his daughter become a police officer?”
Harper shook her head. “It’s not that I’m a cop. We had problems way before then, ever since I was in college. Maybe even before. I think I’ve always disappointed him, never could live up to his expectations. But you’re right, baby steps. Yesterday, he actually asked about my job. So did my mom—she seems more excited about my making detective than I am. As if suddenly I’m legitimate.” She held back that Rachel’s interest seemed mostly motivated by the Reverend’s involvement in the case—that was too humiliating to share.
“Families are hard. Even if you know they love you. I always knew Ruby loved me; that was never the issue. But she made me somehow feel like I didn’t deserve that love, like I hadn’t earned it. As if that made it okay for her to leave.”
“Try being the only daughter of a man whose three sons joined him in the ministry. Talk about feeling unworthy. Plus, I was adopted—something that I could never forget anytime I looked in the mirror. When I was a kid it made me work twice as hard to be good enough, but after I went away to college…” No need to expose those old wounds. “Things changed.”
“You became an adult, started to think for yourself, make your own choices.”
“Live with my mistakes was more like it, but yeah, something like that.”
“So here you are, an accomplished professional—but your parents still see you as that little girl. And you feel like you have to prove to them that you are an adult, an equal.” Leah blew her breath out. “Good luck with that. I don’t think Ruby will ever see me that way. Only good thing I’ve ever done in her eyes was to give her a granddaughter.”
“Well, my folks better not be waiting for that, because it’s not happening anytime soon.” Harper parked in a red zone across the street from Jonah’s mission.
“Then keep working those baby steps.” Leah glanced out her window. “The Pierhouse Mission? You think Beth might have come here?”
They left the car, the morning sun already raising waves of scorching air from the pavement. “If not, I know someone who can help us check the other shelters and programs in a fraction of the time it’d take us.” Harper led the way across the street.
“Who’s that?”
“My brother Jonah. He runs the place.” Harper didn’t bother to hide her pride—of all her brothers, Jonah was her favorite and, to her mind, the one doing the most to make a difference. You could preach all you want, but actions always spoke louder than words. Jonah was here every day, fighting to make life better for folks who had nothing and no one.
Folks like Lily Nolan. And Beth Doe and her baby.
Twenty-Five
Within a few minutes of meeting Harper’s brother, Leah realized that the Pierhouse Mission reflected his energy and passion. When Harper explained about Beth and her missing infant, Jonah immediately leapt into action, sending a group text to fellow shelter directors and other resources Beth might have availed herself of.
The replies came in almost as quickly: no one had seen Beth in the past and especially not today.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” Jonah told them as he escorted them out. “But we’ll all keep our eyes out.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Leah gave him some of her cards while Harper gave him a hug. It was strange to watch—Harper never revealed anything personal, kept her private life firmly divided from her work. But it was nice to see.
They’d no sooner reached the door than both of their phones chimed. Harper had a call that she answered, stepping to the side of the foyer as she spoke, her shoulders hunching with tension. Leah, however had a text—from Emily: Found where baby lady came from at fair. Come home and we can show you. This was followed by a chorus of emojis including a carousel, baby, hearts, and a smiley face blowing a kiss.
Since Jonah and his associates had pretty much blanketed the city with alerts for Beth, Leah didn’t have much else to do to help other than trying to find Beth’s cell phone. She typed back: on my way, good work! And waited for Harper to finish her conversation. When the other woman hung up, a scowl filled her face.
“Something wrong?” Leah asked.
“No. Krichek’s filling my inbox with scut work. He’s sent me a list of license plates to trace, says he’s too busy. It’s not as if I don’t have my own case to work on as well.”
“Mind dropping me back at Good Sam so I can get my car? The kids reviewed their photos from
