Thread of Betrayal by Jeff Shelby Page A

she’d call,” I repeated.
    Lauren was doubtful. “Maybe you misunderstood.”
    I hadn’t misunderstood. She’d held the phone up in the window. Pointed at it, then at me. Then held up three fingers and a fist. Then disappeared.
    I hadn’t misunderstood.
    “She’ll call,” I said.
    She made a dismissive sound and shifted in the seat.
    “What did you talk about with her after I left?” I asked.
    Lauren shrugged. “Nothing special. She told me a little about her time with Elizabeth in Minnesota. But she was guarded. She didn’t give up too much.”
    “Anything else about L.A.?”
    “Just that Elizabeth is supposed to call her at some point when she gets there,” she said. “To let her know she’s okay.”
    “Did you get the phone number? Of the cell she has?”
    Lauren nodded. “Yeah, but Morgan was adamant that Elizabeth wouldn’t answer. She didn’t discourage me from calling but she was certain that Elizabeth would only answer if the number was Morgan’s.”
    The highway twisted as we climbed higher, jagged rock formations jutting out over the highway before giving way to narrow valleys of massive pine trees.
    “You should call the rental company,” I said. “Let them know we’re keeping the car for longer and that it will be dropped elsewhere.”
    “I’m not getting on this phone until that kid calls us,” Lauren said.
    “You don’t have call waiting on your cell?”
    “I don’t want to miss the call,” she said. “It can wait.” She gestured at the windshield. “Not like we aren’t going to be driving for the next two days since we can’t even look at an airport.”
    “You could’ve flown,” I said. “I’m the one that can’t.”
    She rolled her eyes and leaned against the door. “Right. Sure. Just let you drive all the way to California by yourself.”
    “I’ve driven further.”
    “Oh, yes,” she snapped. “All of your mysterious travels. I’m sure you’ve like driven across the Sahara or something, right? To save some kid in peril? Or was it in Siberia?”
    I didn’t say anything, just focused on the road.
    After ten minutes, Lauren said, “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize. Long day.”
    She reached out, touching her hand to my forearm. “You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s fine.”
    “I just want to find her, Joe,” she said. “I just want to hug her and say hi and tell her I missed her.” Her voice caught and I knew she was fighting back tears.
    “Me, too.”
    “I feel like I’m riding your coattails,” she said.
    “What does that mean?”
    She stretched her legs out in front of her. “All this time, you’ve been chasing. Devoted your life to finding her. I grieved, then basically gave up.” She paused. “Maybe not gave up, but I let it go. I didn’t chase. You did. In some ways, I feel like I don’t deserve to be here with you.”
    “Stop.” She was being ridiculous. “You’re her mother.”
    “But I gave up,” she said. “I let her go. Let you go. You were the one who pursued, the one who actually thought we’d get to this moment.” She shook her head. “I didn’t. I just didn’t.”
    I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say. We’d long ago come to terms that we’d needed to handle Elizabeth’s disappearance in different ways. It had broken our marriage, but we had made peace with the idea that we needed to deal with it differently. But I didn’t begrudge Lauren that at all. And I certainly didn’t begrudge the fact that she was with me. I was glad. I’d been alone for a long time.
    I needed her.
    Before I could say anything, Lauren’s phone chimed and she answered it before the chime finished playing. “Morgan. I’m putting you on speaker.” She touched the screen and then held it between us. “Can you hear me?”
    “Yeah, I can hear you,” Morgan said. “I don’t have much time, though.”
    “Why not?” Lauren asked.
    “My dad’s in the shower,” she said. “He won’t be long and he