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he thought. “When did she begin to have troubles?”
    Tenby sighed. “As Emily mentioned, it was after her father’s death. Rachel was utterly devoted to Tommy. She couldn’t bear the loss, and I think she turned all her anger and grief against her mother.”
    “How long ago was that?”
    Dayton pursed his lips and stared at the vaulted ceiling as he thought back. “Rachel was eight when he died, I believe, so it was about nine years ago.”
    “Tell me, Reverend, what do you think happened here? Could Rachel have left on her own? A runaway?”
    Dayton Tenby seemed divinely sure of himself. “Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but that’s what I believe. I really think you’ll find, when all is said and done, that she’s out there somewhere, laughing at us.”
     
     
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    Emily downed the last swallow of brandy and pushed herself off the recliner. As Dayton Tenby returned to the room, she held out her empty glass. “I need another.”
    Tenby took the glass and returned to the living room to refill her drink. Emily watched him go, then spoke to Graeme without shifting her gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”
    “That’s all right. How’s Janie?”
    “She’s fine,” Emily said. “I meant to call.”
    “I told you it doesn’t matter.”
    Emily nodded, feeling hollow. “I thought you’d be angry.”
    “Not at all.”
    “Did you miss me?”
    Graeme waved his hand, dismissing the question as if it were nothing. “What a stupid thing to say. You know I’m lost without you. Yesterday, I wanted to go hiking, and I couldn’t even find my tennis shoes.”
    “Shoes,” Emily murmured, shaking her head.
    Tenby reappeared. The portion of brandy in the glass he carried looked smaller than the last one. Emily took the glass and finished it in a single swallow, ignoring the burn that the liquor caused in her throat. She handed Tenby the glass and turned away. She wiped her eyes, but it was too late. She knew he had seen the tears.
    “She’s doing it just to punish me,” Emily said. “It’s a game with her.”
    “It may be more about Tommy than it is about you. Even after all these years,” Tenby said.
    “Tommy,” she said bitterly.
    “Emily, he was her father,” Tenby reminded her. “She was eight years old, and her daddy could do no wrong.”
    “Yes, everybody loved Tommy,” Emily said. “And I was always the bitch. No one ever understood what he did to us.”
    “I did,” Tenby said.
    Emily took his hand. “Yes, I know. Thank you. And thank you for coming over here tonight. I think I would have gone to pieces without you around.”
    Graeme stood up. “I’ll walk you out, Dayton,” he said, a veneer of politeness in his voice. “I’ll make sure the press doesn’t hassle you along the way.”
    Tenby was dwarfed by the larger man as the two of them retreated from the porch. Emily watched them go, listening to their footsteps, hearing the noises of the crowd outside as the front door opened, then the tomblike silence of the house as the door closed.
    She was alone.
    Even when she was with Graeme these days, she felt alone.
    He said all the right things, and treated her well, and gave her the freedom to lead her own life, but he didn’t pretend that there was any passion between them anymore. She wondered if he felt anything at all for her. She had deliberately not called from St. Louis, wanting to make him angry, wanting him to yearn for her enough to call her himself. If he called, if he missed her, if he screamed at her, at least she would see some of his emotions.
    But he didn’t need her. Except when he couldn’t find his shoes.
    And then to come home and find Rachel was gone. For years she had expected it, wondering when her daughter would leave her a note and run away. Sometimes she had even wished for it, as a way to end the hostility and restore some peace to her life. She had never realized how empty she would feel when it really happened, when all she could do