Page 10 of The Beachside Cafe
SEVEN
That evening at dinner, it seemed as soon as Cheyenne started talking, she didn’t want to stop.
Jaymee ate like normal, not really wanting to be in conversation but not wanting to hurt her daughter’s feelings more.
“It’s been two days since Dad went missing,” Cheyenne said at the start of the meal.
“Yes, that’s right,” Jaymee replied, trying not to feel the pain that lay just under the surface.
“You’re spending a lot of time with Cameron Smith.”
Jaymee gave her daughter a sardonic look. “Cameron is a private investigator who happens to be looking into a string of café break-ins and has now offered his help to find your father. Stop it.”
Cheyenne nodded, a satisfied look on her face. “Oh. Okay. I see. Well, I hope he can come up with something. You don’t suppose he’s one of those incredibly brilliant detectives you see on tv all the time, do you?”
Jaymee had to chuckle at that. “I have no idea.” She ate a forkful of green beans and chewed, looking thoughtfully at her daughter.
“Well, I hope he is. I hope nothing bad happened to Dad.” She was quiet for only a moment. “But I’m not counting on it. Mom, I just don’t see any reason to believe he isn’t really gone. I mean, I don’t feel like he is. But if he was alive, he would contact us. He would contact me, don’t you think? Wouldn’t he?”
If Jaymee was honest, she would say there was no way on God’s green earth that Doug would leave his princess and not say a word of explanation or goodbye. He wasn’t that kind of father. Maybe when he was first building his business. But not after Cheyenne turned 10. She was daddy’s little girl from that moment on.
“He would contact you,” Jaymee replied to her daughter’s question. “He would definitely contact you. I don’t understand it either. But I have to concentrate on figuring it out instead of freaking out. Freaking out won’t do any good at all.”
“I’m not freaking out,” Cheyenne replied in a comfortably level voice. “I just don’t understand it, that’s all. I don’t want to believe he’s… not alive. But if he was, I know he would call me. He would.” She shook her head. Jaymee’s heart wrenched at the sight of fresh tears in her daughter’s eyes.
She set down her fork and reached across to where Cheyenne was seated to her right. “Stay calm, dear. I don’t know Cameron well, but he gives me the impression he’s more than capable of finding Doug.”
“I hope you’re right, Mom. I… I miss Dad. A lot.”
When Cheyenne began to cry, Jaymee abandoned her seat and took her daughter in her arms. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, petting her daughter’s hair and holding her tight. “It’s going to be okay.”
An hour later, Jaymee was preparing to dress for bed. It was going on nine-thirty and she wanted to be asleep by ten. She took a shower and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing a towel over her wet hair.
Suddenly, she got a whiff of Doug’s cologne. She froze, her heart jumping into her throat. She spun around, looking around the room. It was empty besides her and the furnishings. She blinked, wondering where that smell had come from.
Thinking about Doug and how familiar he’d been, how comfortable she’d felt with him for so many years… was he a victim or one of the bad guys? Most of all, where was he?
She tilted her head to the side to wrap the towel around her long hair and squeeze the water out.
Her eye caught sight of something under the dresser. The lamp light was hitting the area just perfectly so that she could see something reflecting. She tried to remember if she’d lost any lipstick tubes or bottles of perfume. She couldn’t recall that happening.
Jaymee draped the towel over the chair to her dressing table and got down on her knees. She crawled to the dresser and reached underneath, grimacing at the presence of dust. She would need to have this place deep cleaned soon.
Her fingers grasped the bottle and she pulled it out.
There was no way, considering how dirty Jaymee’s hand was when she pulled it out, that the glass bottle she was holding could be as clean as it was if it hadn’t been recently put there.
It wasn’t Jaymee’s. It had to be Doug’s.
Suddenly, Jaymee’s stomach twisted into knots.
She held the vial up to the light and peered through it. It was clear glass containing a clear liquid. She wobbled the vial back and forth, watching the liquid move inside. It wasn’t gel. It was definitely liquid. A small cork kept the contents from escaping.
She couldn’t think of a single reason why Doug would have a bottle of clear liquid in their room.
Her stomach twisted again and thoughts raced through her mind. She was only scaring herself and that was never good. But she couldn’t help it. What was in this bottle? Did she dare open it? Was it the drug that knocked Doug out and made him easier to move, if that’s what happened? Was it a poison Doug was supposed to give himself or Jaymee?
No one kept water in a vial this size. She ruled out water.
