Free Entranced by Nora Roberts Page A

“Where was I?”
    “Salt scum,” Mel prompted.
    “Sure. And the dust and dirt that comes from having cars going up and down the road. Fingerprints.” She nearly smiled. “Seems I’m always chasing somebody’s fingerprints.”
    Yeah, Mel thought. Me, too.
    “I know it must take a lot of work to keep your place up like this, raising two kids.”
    “Not everyone thinks so. Some people figure if you don’t carry a briefcase and commute to some office every day you’re not working.”
    “I’ve always thought holding together a home and family is the most important career there is.”
    Mrs. O’Dell took the dust rag that was hanging out of the back pocket of her shorts and rubbed at the surface of a table. “Well.”
    “And the windows,” Mel said, gently leading her back. “I was wondering how often you have to wash them.”
    “Every month, like clockwork.”
    “You’d have a real good view of the neighborhood.”
    “I don’t have time to spy on my neighbors.”
    “No, ma’am. But you might notice things, casually.”
    “Well, I’m not blind. I saw that man hanging around. I told you that.”
    “Yes, you did. I was thinking, if you happened to be washing the windows, you might have noticed him down there. I imagine it would take you about an hour to do the job …”
    “Forty-five minutes.”
    “Uh-huh. Well, if he was down there that long, sitting in his car, it would have struck you as unusual, wouldn’t it?”
    “He got out and walked around.”
    “Oh?” Mel wondered if she dared take out her notepad. Better to talk now and write it all down later, she decided.
    “Both days,” Mrs. O’Dell added.
    “Both days?”
    “The day I did the windows, and the day I washed the curtains. I really didn’t think anything of it. I don’t poke around into other people’s business.”
    “No, I’m sure you don’t.” But I do, Mel thought, her heart hammering. I do. And I just need a little more. “Do you remember which days you noticed him?”
    “Did the windows the first of the month, like always. A couple days later, I noticed the curtains were looking a little dingy, so I took them down and washed them. Saw him across the street then, walking down the sidewalk.”
    “David Merrick was taken on the fourth of May.”
    Mrs. O’Dell frowned again, then glanced at her children. When she was satisfied they were squabbling and not paying any attention, she nodded. “I know. And, like I told you before, it just breaks my heart. A little baby like that, stolen practically out of his mother’s arms. I haven’t let Billy go out alone all summer.”
    Mel laid a hand on her arm to make a connection, woman to woman. “You don’t have to know Rose Merrick to understand what she’s going through. You’re a mother.”
    It got through to her. Mel could see it in the way moisture sprang to Mrs. O’Dell’s eyes. “I wish I could help. I just didn’t see anything more than that. All I remember is thinking that this neighborhood should be safe. That you shouldn’t have to be afraid to let your children walk across the street to play with a friend. You shouldn’t have to worry every day that someone’s going to come back and pick out your child and drive away with him.”
    “No, you shouldn’t. Rose and Stan Merrick shouldn’t be wondering if they’ll ever see their son again. Someone drove away with David, Mrs. O’Dell. Someone who was parked right under your window. Maybe you weren’t paying attention at the time, but if you’d clear your mind for a minute and think back … You mighthave noticed his car, some little thing about his car.”
    “That beat-up old thing? I didn’t pay any mind to it.”
    “It was black? Red?”
    Mrs. O’Dell shrugged. “Dirty is what it was. Might have been brown. Might have been green, under all that grime.”
    Mel took a leap of faith. “Out-of-state plates, I imagine.”
    After a moment’s consideration, Mrs. O’Dell shook her head. “Nope. I guess I