I can’t decide whether it’s a gift or a curse that I’ve written this interchange more times than McNeil has probably lived it.
“I mean, I’ve had a few aggressive fans over the years. It’s par for the course when you’re in the spotlight. But…”
“But what?” Canfield folded his arms across his chest, and I noticed a thick gold band on his ring finger. I wonder who the lucky lady is.
“But it’s never had anything to do with Stevie. It’s mainly been excessive love letters or showing up at my events because they want to give me flowers or candy. There was one guy a few years ago who tried to propose.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.” McNeil appeared impressed. Canfield shot her a disapproving look.
“Are there records of these… situations?” He raised a bushy eyebrow. If he doubted me, he didn’t say it outright.
“I don’t think so. There was always security on hand to deal with it.” I stood up, frustrated by his complacency. “Why are we even talking about this? Some lunatic may have abducted my child!” My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst through my chest.
“You seem awfully convinced that she’s been kidnapped.” Canfield smirked. “Isn’t it possible she decided to wander off on her own?”
“No, it’s not possible,” I insisted, ready to strangle him with my bare hands, even though it hadn’t occurred to me that Stevie might have disappeared of her own volition. Why would she do something like that?
“Does she have a boyfriend?” McNeil suggested. If it’s not the parents, it’s the boyfriend.
“No.” Maybe. There is a guy, Liam, who she’s been seeing on and off for about a month, but he’s no more threatening than a golden retriever, and I refuse to direct them down a dead end.
“So there’s no one she might have wanted to run off with?” Again, same question, different phrasing. If Stevie’s safety weren’t at risk, I’d have told him he was straight from central casting and to get a more original shtick.
“No.”
“Where’s her father?”
“He’s not in the picture.”
“Let me guess? Deadbeat dad.” Canfield snickered.
“Actually, no,” I snapped. Suddenly my body felt laden with emotion, and I sat back down on the couch. “If you must know, I had a one-night stand with a very handsome Italian man seventeen years ago, on my first international book tour.”
“Do you know—” McNeil began.
“I never got his full name.” I glared at both of them, daring them to judge me. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and I won’t be made to feel that I do. “He doesn’t even know that Stevie exists.”
“Okay, so, you have no enemies, and you claim there’s no way your daughter would leave by choice. Where do you think she is, Ms. DeFleur? Teenage girls don’t just vanish into thin air,” Canfield prodded.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” I buried my face in my hands, before looking up at them again. “I don’t know where she is. I don’t know if someone’s taken her or who that person could be. I don’t know anything! All I want is for you to find my daughter. I just want her to come home.” A sob caught in my throat and thick, bulbous tears followed. “I just want Stevie back. Please just bring her back to me!”
“We’re doing the best we can,” McNeil spoke softly. If she didn’t feel my pain, she at least recognized it, I think, which was more than I could say for Canfield’s stone-cold heart.
“Well, do better.” I matched her tone. Even though I wanted to scream and beat my fists on the coffee table, I knew it wouldn’t help matters, and it might have the reverse effect.
“We understand how upsetting this is,” she added.
“Why don’t you take us through the events of the night one more time?” Canfield suggested, hoping to trip me up with details.
“As I’ve already told you, I left the house at six o’clock. A driver picked me up and took me to my signing at Books and More in town. I spent the rest of the evening there, until my publicist told me that Stevie was missing. If you need any witnesses, I have over two hundred of them.”
“All that attention must be nice.” He hovered close to me with his thick hands clasped in front of him.
“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating.”
“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m just saying it must be nice.”
“Sometimes.”
“And other times?”
“It can be overwhelming. I really don’t understand—”
“Ms. DeFleur, did you speak to anyone on the phone before your event?” he interjected. “Keep in mind we will be accessing your cell phone records.”
“Not that I recall.”
“Think about it,” he nudged.
“Maybe my publicist, Gwen. But that’s it.”
“Does she know Stevie?”
“Not really.”
“Not really?”
“They’ve met once or twice, I believe.” McNeil jotted something down in her notebook. “I assure you Gwen has nothing to do with this. If anything, she wanted me to stay at my signing and continue to sell books.”
“Or maybe she wanted you to stay there for another reason.” Canfield and McNeil exchanged a look I couldn’t read.
“What reason would that be?” I demanded.
Neither of them replied.
Canfield pressed on. “And you didn’t stop anywhere on the way to or from the signing?”
“No.”
“What’s your relationship like with your daughter? Is she rebellious?”
His question winded me like a sucker punch. “Our relationship is amazing. She’s my everything. I love Stevie within an inch of my life. I’d do anything to protect her. And no, she is not rebellious. She never has been.”
“Do you think she feels smothered by your love?”
“What? No! Absolutely not.” My stomach ached with fear, and suddenly I felt like I might get sick.
“Easy there, tiger.” He grinned arrogantly.
I locked eyes with him. “Officer, do you have any children?”
“I do. Two boys and a girl,” he said proudly.
“And how would you feel if one of them was missing?”
“I’d be very upset.” His face twitched.
“Exactly.”
“Ms. DeFleur, this isn’t about me.”
“Ah, see, that’s where you’re wrong. This is about you. And it’s about me. It’s about every parent in this world who would be going out of their minds if they were in my position right now.”
“Ms.—” Canfield tried to override me, but I put my hand up.
“Please, just hear me out.” He remained silent, and I noticed the corners of McNeil’s mouth turn upward. “My daughter is out there somewhere. I know she is. I am positive that she didn’t run away. Because she’s a good girl. And because she has a great life. I’m also positive that she’s alive. Call it a mother’s instinct. I just know. So, what I need you to do is to stop interrogating me and go out there and find her. You can handcuff me to the coffee table if you need to. But for God’s sake, please, please, please just find her before it’s too late. Because if anything has happened to her… If so much as one hair on her beautiful head has been injured, I will never forgive myself. And if you’re a father who loves his children the way I love Stevie, then neither will you.”