Capturing Angels by V. C. Andrews Read Free Book Online

too.
    “Mind?” he asked. I shook my head, and he entered the room.
    “Very nice room,” he said. He looked at the shelves of stuffed animals neatly arranged. “Quite a collection.”
    “Everyone who knows her has known to give her something like that for her birthday.”
    “Yes. Has anyone given her a lot more than others? I don’t mean any relatives, grandparents.”
    “No,” I said. “I mean, some of those are more expensive than others, but . . . well, Margaret Sullivan has more to do with her, so she always gives Mary something nice.” I paused, studying him for a moment. “You’re still thinking that someone we know, someone who knows us well, might have done this?”
    He looked as if he regretted having spoken. Maybe it was the tone in my voice that gave him the impression that I was on the verge of being explosive, that the smallest, seemingly most inconsequential thing could get me screaming.
    “Tell me what you really think, please. I’m okay. Why did you ask that question?” I insisted.
    “Every case is different in some way. I had a case where a supposedly good friend of the mother’s had an unnatural attraction to the child. She had lost her own in an accident. It was more complicated than I’m making it seem.”
    “There’s no one like that in our lives,” I said.
    “I’m sure there isn’t. You look like the kind of mother who would sense danger if it was that close by,” he added with a smile. It brought no comfort.
    “I didn’t today. I didn’t take any pills before we left for the mall,” I emphasized. “Maybe I take them more than I led you to believe, but I didn’t take them this morning. I swear.”
    “I believe you. You were distracted in some other way. None of us is that perfect.”
    “But when it comes to Mary, I am. She’s with me so much. It’s as if they never cut the umbilical cord. How could this happen?”
    “It happens. Stop beating on yourself. It doesn’t help anyone at this point.”
    I shook my head and bit down on my lower lip. I wanted to punish myself somehow.
    He leaned toward me like someone about to reveal a big secret. “I was in an automobile accident last week. Oh, not that serious an accident, but it was a little bit more than a fender bender. The point is, it was my fault. A young woman on roller skates wearing short-shorts caught my attention, distracted me just long enough. It was quite embarrassing, especially for someone in law enforcement. I felt like a doctor who smokes, is overweight, or something.”
    I smiled. Of anyone involved with Mary’s disappearance so far, Lieutenant Abraham seemed to be the easiest person to talk to. I wondered how long he had been a detective. I didn’t think he was rough and edgy enough to battle very violent and evil people. For a few moments, at least, thinking about him took my mind off what was happening.
    “Are you married or seeing someone?”
    “No, I’m not married and not seeing anyone at the moment. I’m not exactly brilliant when it comes to my romantic relationships. Most of the women I’ve dated look for the nearest exit when they see my . . . let’s say my enthusiasm for my work. I don’t blame them. A woman should feel she’s first in a man’s priorities. Besides,” he continued, walking toward Mary’s closet and then turning to me, “when I fall in love, I want it to be of biblical proportions.”
    Now I was really smiling. “What does that mean?”
    He shrugged. “I once read somewhere that a man said to the woman he loved, ‘Oh do not die, for I shall hate all women so when thou art gone.’”
    “I love that quote.”
    “You’ve heard it? I don’t know where it’s from. One of my school buddies gave it to me to use in pursuit of someone once.”
    “John Donne’s poem ‘A Fever.’ An overly dramatic high school boyfriend wrote it to me on a get-well card when I had the flu. I was impressed but too sick to care.”
    He smiled and held his gaze on me, then