Finding Bailey: A Lake Tahoe Romantic Suspense Novel

by Dana Mason

  She lifted her mug, but the coffee inside had grown cold. She placed it back on the table and looked up at the little TV in the corner of the kitchen. She didn’t dare turn it on. The Rosa Trials had been shredding her all week. Was that what Nicole had wanted all along? To purposely hurt Bailey?

  How had she not seen her sister’s disdain for her? Was Nicole that good of an actress, or had Bailey just accepted the relationship with Nicole blindly? She wasn’t sure which was true, but one thing was for sure—Bailey was heartbroken over losing her sister. Not just because she’d wished her whole life to have one, but because now that she did, that sister hated her. Bailey cared what people thought about her, and knowing Nicole, and possibly her entire family, believed her to be a homewrecker was too much to bear.

  It was different before they’d met. It was easy for someone to judge her when they didn’t really know her, but they’d met her, seen her, and interacted with her. Could they not see she had integrity? Could they not see she was a good person who would never purposely hurt someone?

  Maybe they just didn’t care.

  Bailey was about to get up to refill her mug when Ryan walked into the kitchen. He rushed over to the TV and turned it on.

  “Please don’t,” she said.

  He held a finger to his lips and whispered, “You’re gonna want to see this.” He switched to the local news, and she was so relieved it wasn’t The Rosa Trials.

  “In another new twist to the Spatz story, William Dexter’s widow, Nicole Spatz Dexter, was arrested yesterday afternoon for obstruction of justice and withholding evidence.” The footage playing was of Nicole being escorted from a patrol car. She was ducking her head as if to hide her face. Bailey stared at the screen in complete shock.

  “Oh, my God, Ryan.”

  “I know, crazy, right?”

  “I guess we know for sure now. I wonder how Sharpe found out.” She stared at him for a moment. “Did you tell him about Nicole?”

  “No. I was going to talk to you about it today.” He grabbed a cup from the kitchen cabinet and poured himself some coffee. “I’m not sorry, though. She needs to pay for what she’s done.”

  They heard a flurry of noise out front. Ryan walked over and peeked out between the blinds. “Holy shit.”

  Bailey jumped up and walked over to see what he was looking at and couldn’t believe her eyes. “Crap.” There were at least a half dozen news vans lined up and down the street. “Damn it. Will this ever end?”

  Ryan shook his head and looked back over his shoulder at the TV. “I don’t know, babe. I’m sorry,” he said, placing a hand on her back and rubbing up and down.

  When her cell phone rang, she rushed to turn it off, expecting it to be the press, but her caller ID said it was Agent Sharpe. “Hello,” Bailey said, placing the call on speaker.

  “Bailey, how are you?”

  “I was fine until I looked out to find my street full of news vans.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to live with the press following you around. Unfortunately, it’s only going to get worse. We’ve made a few arrests in your case.”

  “Yeah, I saw. My sister—”

  “And your uncle,” Sharpe said.

  Bailey’s mouth dropped open, and she made eye contact with Ryan.

  “Is it possible for you to come to my office sometime this week? I’d like to give you an update in person.”

  Ryan nodded and whispered, “Today?”

  “Is today too soon?” Bailey asked.

  “No. Not too soon. I can make time if you can be here around two p.m.”

  “We’ll see you then,” Bailey said before ending the call.

  * * *

  Bailey and Ryan were seated in Agent Sharpe’s office promptly at two p.m. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.

  When Sharpe sat down, he smiled at her. “It’s good to see you. You both look well despite what’s been happening over the last week.”

  “Thank you,” Bailey said, not sure what else to say. As much as she wanted to hear everything, she didn’t want to hear everything. She felt she already knew more than she ever wanted to. Not for the first time this week, she longed for a simpler time when she didn’t know anything about her own disappearance and kidnapping.

  “I’m sure this hasn’t been easy on you, so I’ll get right down to it,” Sharpe said. He opened the file in front of him and looked up at her again. “Patrick Morton came to see me Monday morning.”

  Bailey didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded.

  “He wanted to confess. He saw the Thursday episode of The Rosa Trials and decided it was time.”

  “Wow.” Ryan said. “How fucking nice of him to wait so long to finally share the truth. Too fucking bad he didn’t tell his niece before shit hit the fan.”

  Bailey looked over at him, surprised by his language. “Ryan?” Once she got a look at him, his anger was apparent. When she turned toward Sharpe, he was chuckling.

  Sharpe waved a hand at her. “It’s okay. That was my thought, too, Ryan. It’s a shame he couldn’t have taken care of this before—to spare Bailey from William Dexter.” He lifted his eyebrows and said, “Unfortunately, we can’t do much about that now.” He glanced down at the file again. “Dexter was sending your mother threatening letters. He found out who you were through his wife’s renewed search for her missing sister. Your mother and uncle didn’t know where the threats were coming from.”

  “That’s a lousy excuse not to do something about it,” Bailey said.

  “No shit,” Ryan growled.

  Sharpe nodded. “I completely agree. We’ve gained proof of all of this from our searches of Patrick Morton’s RV and your sister’s apartment.”

  “And so now she’s been arrested?” Bailey asked.

  “Yes. We searched her apartment before, when investigating William Dexter for kidnapping you, but it appears she withheld some evidence, which is what we found the second time around. I’m sorry, Bailey. I don’t know what drove her to withhold evidence, or what prompted her to feed you to the wolves over at The Rosa Trials.”

  “Is it possible she didn’t know she had the evidence when you did the first search?” Bailey asked, trying like hell to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  “Yes, and that’s what we suspect, but she was arrested for withholding it after we searched. We found both her and her husband’s fingerprints on the letter mailed to me. She also shared the letter with The Rosa Trials, along with other evidence. Photos and such. It doesn’t matter when she found the items. When she failed to alert us right away, she broke the law.”

  “Damn it,” Ryan said.

  “Her future depends on how much she cooperates. It’s your uncle we’re looking to prosecute.”

  Bailey dropped her eyes to the ground. She wasn’t happy to hear her uncle or sister were arrested, but she also knew they were responsible for their own actions.

  “I’m sorry, Bailey. I know this can’t be easy, but I feel confident, after shutting down your sister, The Rosa Trials will go away. They’ll no longer receive information from her, and they’re certainly not going to receive it from us.”

  “Thank you,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. “Do you think I could see my uncle?”

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely sure.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Bailey stared at her reflection in the thick, bulletproof glass between the visitor’s stall, where she was seated, and the empty prisoner’s stall. She had never visited anyone in jail before. Really, she’d never even known anyone who had ever served time. She waited but had no idea how long it would take before she would have to face her Uncle Patrick. She didn’t have a plan or a script. Was there ever a plan for a situation like this? How do you plan for a visit with your uncle, who also happens to be your kidnapper? “Ugh…God,” she sighed and rested her head
in her hands.

  When the phone rang, she jerked her head up and faced Patrick. He didn’t look any different than the last time she’d seen him, the day after her mother’s—Helen’s—funeral.

  “Good morning, Bailey,” he said, trying for a smile.

  She nodded into the phone, glad he could see her so she wouldn’t have to make a sound right away. She cleared her throat and said, “How are you?”

  He laughed. He actually laughed at her. “Well, Bailey, I’ve had better days.”

  This pushed her toward anger. She couldn’t help it. Her life had been turned upside down, and she wasn’t that quick to forgive. “Yeah, well, you’ve had twenty-eight years of good days and freedom when you shouldn’t have. Be grateful for the life you’ve been able to live, and for the time you had with your family.”

  He grimaced. “I am, Bailey. I thank God every day.” His face dropped into a frown. “I understand why you’re upset, and out of respect for you, I won’t attempt to defend myself.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “I owe you honesty and the chance to ask whatever questions you have, and I’ll give you that.”

  “Did she suffer? My mother, Theresa Spatz?” Bailey couldn’t help it. She had many questions, but she couldn’t get Theresa out of her head since she’d learned the truth.

  He looked her in the eye and said, “No. She was killed on impact.”

  “Are you sure? How can you be?”

  “I’m sure, sweetheart. I’m sorry about the accident, and rest assured, we certainly would’ve called for help if she wasn’t already deceased.” He looked her steadily in the eye. “We’re not heartless murderers, despite what everyone wants to think.”

  “What kept you from calling the police? If it really was an accident, why didn’t you call nine-one-one?”

  “Ernie was driving. After the accident, he was petrified—overwrought with guilt and sorrow.” Patrick’s eyes glassed over. “We’d been drinking. We were cowards, or I should say, I was a coward. Helen and I convinced him to leave. Helen insisted we take you with us in fear you’d be hurt or too cold if we left you behind.”

  “That’s such bullshit. You know that, right?” She shook her head. “She saw an opportunity, and she took it. Period. There was nothing noble about the decision to take me after killing my mother.”

  She’d had several days to think about her mother and father’s guilt in the crime that gained them a child. She couldn’t deny her father had been a gentle man. She couldn’t even remember a time when he raised his voice, much less hurt someone. She remembered her father very well, and she specifically remembered his heavy heart, his constant need to apologize for anything and everything. She remembered his sadness and his anxiety. It was only now that she understood it. However, that did not excuse him from guilt. He could have stopped it. He could’ve not taken her. He could have stood up to Helen, but he chose not to.

  “You’re right. Helen’s excuse at the time was that she didn’t want to leave you behind because you could be hurt, but in the end, I think you and I can agree she had other intentions.”

  “What about you? What the hell were you thinking?”

  He blinked rapidly, as if trying to think it through, then said, “Honestly, I was scared. Explaining the actions of a twenty-two-year-old kid twenty-eight years later…well, that’s not easy.”

  “Try,” she said.

  “I don’t remember what I was thinking…or that I was thinking at all. One minute, I was puking into a bag in the back seat of the car, and the next, I was standing next to Theresa Spatz’s lifeless body on the street. What do I remember? I remember being scared shitless. I didn’t know what to do. You were in a stroller some distance away from Theresa. I don’t know how, but thinking back on it now, I assume she pushed you out of the way. Helen snatched you up, folded up the stroller, told Ernie to store it in the trunk, and herded us back into the car. Then she told Ernie to drive. As scared as I was, I did what she told me to do. So did Ernie. When my head cleared some, I realized Helen knew exactly what we’d done. She knew exactly what she was doing when she took you.” He lowered his eyes. “For years, Bailey, years and years, I wished I could do it all again and make the right decisions, but honestly, I don’t remember making the decision to take you.”

  “You could’ve changed the situation if you would’ve just spoken up. Surely, it was only a matter of time before you realized my parents were students at your school. You could’ve told him.”

  He nodded, his head bowed. “I know. I deserve to be here. I’m a coward. While I don’t remember making the decision to let Helen take you, I do remember making the decision to let her keep you, and that was pure selfishness. I realized quickly that we’d gotten away with it. I also realized, if we would’ve called the police at the accident scene, the entire thing could’ve been manageable. Drunk driving charges for Ernie if he was over the limit, though I’m not even sure he was. At the most, manslaughter for killing Mrs. Spatz. But by leaving the scene and taking you with us, we escalated the accident into several horrible crimes. I didn’t want to go to jail. No one could place us at the scene, and I was thankful they weren’t looking for us. Maybe even a little cocky, if not relieved, to have gotten away without being caught. Taking you to the police would’ve…well…” He stopped talking for a moment, and the frown spread on his face. “Helen isn’t the only guilty one here. I am also. I should’ve done the right thing, but it would’ve ruined my life.”

  Bailey laughed at that, but it was humorless. “So you chose to ruin mine instead? And my father’s?”

  “Your poor father, searching for all those years. I couldn’t imagine. I had to avoid the story altogether. The guilt ate me alive some days. I don’t know how Helen got through it, especially after moving to California. Moving closer… I’ll never understand what motivated that woman.”

  “Did the three of you ever discuss telling me the truth?” she asked earnestly. “Or Alex Spatz?”

  “For the first few years, it was the topic of every conversation we had.” He ran his hands up and down on his pants as if to release nervous energy. “Helen wouldn’t hear of it. She couldn’t have a baby. She’d tried a few times but had miscarriages. I believe that’s why Ernie went along with it. He wanted her to be happy. It wasn’t until this last time she got sick that she ever considered telling you the truth. When she realized she wasn’t going to recover, she wanted to tell you.”

  “Why didn’t she?” Bailey leaned forward. “Why didn’t you? You both had the opportunity.”

  “Helen received an anonymous letter. I know now it was from William Dexter. He threatened to hurt you if Helen told you the truth.” He braced his hands on his face as if trying to remember. “Helen was scared, but she considered telling you anyway. Somehow, I managed to talk her out of it. Neither of us wanted you to get hurt.” He lifted his head to meet Bailey’s eyes again. “I came to the funeral specifically to check on you, to judge how much you knew. I was worried about you.”

  “Stop, please!” She held her hand up to him. “Don’t pretend you were concerned. You put me in danger. You left me in the hands of a madman, and because of your lies, he almost killed me.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. “I know. I wish I could go back and make different decisions, honestly. I didn’t know your mother kept scrapbooks. I didn’t know she left you a trail to follow.” He held up a hand. “Not that I’m excusing myself, but I convinced myself you wouldn’t find out, and if you didn’t find out, you’d be safe.”

  “That’s nonsense. You should’ve told me at the funeral at the very least. I don’t believe you kept it a secret to save me. You did it to save yourself.”

  “Bailey, please remember, I didn’t know who was making these threats or why. Honestly, I didn’t know what the best thing was.” Patrick shrugged. “But if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have turned myself in to the FBI. I could’ve gone anywhere, but I didn’t. I came here to set the record s
traight. I understand if you don’t believe that, but I did what I thought needed to be done for both of us.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed that. They would have caught up to him eventually. Regardless, his coming forward proved that The Rosa Trials was complete crap, and she hadn’t consorted with Dex to plan the whole thing.

  “We suspect Dex was after his wife’s trust fund. If she divorced him, he wouldn’t get anything. He came after me when he found out I was planning to submit my DNA to the FBI. He planned to have me killed before I met with them, so he could hide his affair from the family. He didn’t know my appointment with Agent Sharpe had been moved up. He couldn’t have known.”

  “I’m sorry, Bailey. I made the wrong decision. I should’ve spoken out. I should’ve told you everything. I see that now.”

  She stared at him for a long time, unsure of her feelings. She needed time to think. She needed to process everything he’d told her. “I’m not totally convinced of your motive, but I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy to come here and confess. Thank you for doing it.”

  He smiled sadly at her. “I’m actually a little relieved. It’s been a hefty burden for a long time. And, the last few months, I’ve been so concerned for you. Watching the news and hearing what Dexter did to you…finding out about your biological parents. This must be a very, very difficult time for you. I hope you’re taking time to get to know your family. They deserve to have you in their lives.”

  She nodded and sat quietly for a few minutes, then he broke the silence with a question she wasn’t expecting.

  “May I write to you, Bailey? I’d like to stay in touch.”

  She nodded her consent, and without another word, she placed the phone on the receiver and walked away.