by Debra Webb
Then she’d found that box.
Not a large box. More like one of the candy boxes with the double layers of candies and the map that told you what kind was in each slot of chocolate-covered goodies.
She stared at the offending box now. After picking through it, falling apart a little more with each new discovery, she had pulled herself together and brought it to the family room. She had placed it on the coffee table while she decided what to do about it. She stared at it now with its faded gold coloring and painted red ribbon. This box was evidence of the most shocking secret she could possibly have imagined.
Several scenarios had gone through her head when she’d been poking around, but nothing like this. She shuddered. This just couldn’t be.
She needed to call Liam.
No, no, she couldn’t call him. This wasn’t something she could tell him over the phone. She had to go to Winchester and show him. He needed to see this with his own eyes. She would not be the one to say out loud the words that were his real story.
She couldn’t. She loved her brother far too much.
Stop, just stop. If she didn’t stop this confounded pacing she was going to wear a path in her mother’s favorite Persian rug. She twisted and started back the other way. Not possible. She had to keep moving to prevent exploding.
It might not be a bad idea to call Halle Lane. The way Liam had spoken about her when he’d called earlier, it was obvious he thought she hung the moon. Claire could put this monkey on her back. She was the one who’d started this after all, with her search for the truth.
Claire’s stomach twisted with a thousand tiny knots. The truth was painful and startling and their lives would forever be changed when it was revealed, and she saw no way around it coming out.
She paused to stare at the box. She could not pretend she hadn’t found it.
The sound of the front door being unlocked snapped her from the troubling thoughts. Fear seared through her veins. Why hadn’t she set the security system? She had locked the door, hadn’t she?
Claire grabbed her cell, ready to dial 911 as she eased to the entry hall.
The door opened.
She stalled, unable to move.
Her mother. What was she doing home?
Outrage blasted her before she could temper it. “What’re you doing back? I thought you were headed to London next.”
She reminded herself that this was her mother and that she loved her. She had always been a good mother to both Claire and Liam.
But she had lied. Fury flashed anew inside Claire. Her mother had hidden the truth all these years.
Penelope gave her a quick smile. “I’ll explain later. I’m in a bit of a hurry right now.”
She rushed past. Claire frowned. Where were her bags? Still in the car? Wouldn’t the driver have brought them in? She walked to the door and peered out the side glass. Taillights faded in the distance.
What on earth?
She pivoted and stormed after her mother. She wasn’t in the family room or the kitchen. “Mom?”
No answer. Claire headed toward her bedroom and found her standing on a chair, poking around in the top of her closet.
“Looking for something?” Claire asked, unable to conceal the suspicion in her tone.
“Yes...there’s a box.” Penelope kept pawing through hat boxes and handbags, her movements frantic.
“It’s in the family room,” Claire announced. She might as well put her mother out of her misery.
Penelope stilled, turned to stare down at her.
“I’ll be waiting there.” Claire turned away from her. She strode out of the room, a volatile mixture of emotions fueling her. Anger and disappointment and something like disgust.
A minute or so passed before her mother joined her. Claire didn’t have to be in the room to know she would have put the chair back where it belonged, shut off the closet light and closed the door. Her mother was particular like that.
When Penelope paused at the sofa, her gaze fell upon the box.
The box.
The nine-by-fifteen-inch cardboard container that held the incredible lie that was their life.
“Apparently you opened it,” she said, her voice brittle, too faint.
Penelope Hart stood there with her matching silk trousers and blouse and perfectly made-up face and hair. She was beautiful. Elegant. Loving. Patient. Kind. Supersmart.
And a liar.
“What does this mean?” Claire demanded.
Her mother’s gaze lifted from the box to meet Claire’s. “I will tell you everything on the way to the airport.”
Did she really believe she could just leave right now? Good God, it was almost ten o’clock. “You are not leaving until you explain this—” she gestured to the damned box “—to me.”
“I have to get to Winchester. There’s a flight just after midnight that would put me in Nashville around nine in the morning. I cannot miss it. I have to speak to Liam.” She shook her head, the move so faint Claire might not have noticed had she not been glaring at her mother. “Please tell me you haven’t told him about this.”
How dare she make such a plea!
“I haven’t told him,” Claire snapped. “I didn’t want to be the one to shatter him.” Tears burned in her eyes. “Tell me how this is possible!”
Her mother walked to her then, grasped Claire’s arms in her hands and held her tight. “I need you to trust and believe in me—”
“Are you kidding?” The tears streaked down Claire’s face. She could not hold them back. “How will I ever trust you again?”
A single tear slid down her mother’s cheek. “I promise I will explain everything. Please, just come with me and I’ll tell you on the way to the airport.”
Claire pulled free of her grasp and snatched up the box. “You can tell me on the way to the airport, but I’m going with you to Winchester.”
“Claire—”
“Someone needs to be there for him,” she argued. “Someone who hasn’t lied to him.”
Chapter Fourteen
NOW
Sunday, March 15
Winchester, Tennessee
Halle had never been so glad to be home.
She turned all the way around in her apartment above the garage. All these months she had felt as if she’d failed in her career and that being back here was evidence of that failure. A smile spread across her lips. But it wasn’t a failure. It was meant to be. Liam was going to stay with her a few more days until they sorted things out. Later today he had to call his sister and his stepmom to talk and then...
Well, she didn’t know where they went from there, but whatever happened, it would be good. Wonderful. And full of possibility.
A soft sigh seeped out of her. She had never been happier. She was still a little afraid of how things would turn out. There remained a lot of questions. Liam wanted to do the DNA test before confronting his stepmother with any hard questions. Which was totally understandable. There were still so many unknowns...the perpetrator in Mrs. Clark’s murder, for one.
Despite the heinousness of the poor woman’s murder as well as Austen’s, Halle experienced a strange serenity she’d rarely felt before.
Since waking up this morning she had walked around with a goofy grin on her face, but she wasn’t the only one. Liam wore the same happy face. They’d had breakfast in the room and then dressed and driven back to Winchester. Bursts of animated conversation had been followed by lapses into satisfied silence.
Her biggest regret was that they had missed all those years between when he vanished and now. She walked over to her desk to start going through her notes. Laundry could wait. She wanted to get as many of her thoughts down as possible while it was all still fresh.
Liam had just left to get his things from the hotel and to check out. A local agency had agreed to ta
ke care of his rental car. Her parents had already left for church by the time they arrived back in Winchester this morning. She couldn’t wait to tell them that she and Liam were going to start seeing each other seriously.
The whole idea was a little unsettling when she considered that he lived in California and she lived here...but they would work it out. Somehow.
Everything felt right.
A knock on her door startled her. She pressed her hand to her chest and reached for calm. She’d been jumpy this way since Liam left. She had to get a grip. He was just going across town. He would be back soon. Probably within the hour.
She pushed away from her desk and went to the door. Maybe her parents were home from church already. She opened the door wearing that big old smile, ready to tell her mom—
It wasn’t her mom.
“Mr. Burke.” She frowned. Surprised—no, shocked—to find the big-shot attorney standing on her landing.
“Ms. Lane, I’m so glad I was able to catch you.”
Halle composed herself once more. This was odd. Something wasn’t right. “What is it?” If he’d come all this way, surely he had an update for her that might prove relevant to their ongoing search. “Tell me.”
He hesitated, made a face. “My time is really short, Ms. Lane, but it was vitally important that I speak to you in person. This is not the sort of thing to be done by phone.”
“Okay.” Her instincts stirred. Some part of this picture wasn’t quite right.
“Can you take a ride with me? There’s something you need to see.”
Now she was straight up worried. “What’s going on?”
“Please.” He stepped back from the door and gestured to the stairs. “Let me show you. There’s really no way to explain this without showing you.”
Every instinct she possessed warned that she should be suspicious—maybe even afraid—but this was the one man who might be able to shed light on what really happened twenty-five years ago.
“Just tell me. That will be faster.” If his time was so short, then talking to her right here was the quickest way to give her whatever information he was so eager to share.
She wasn’t about to go anywhere with him. Particularly since his former investigator had been murdered not so long after she visited this man.
He pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at her. “We do this my way. Get your keys. We’ll take your car.”
Moving slowly, deliberately, as she tried to think of what to do, she crossed the room and grabbed her shoulder bag, tucking her cell into it.
“All right,” she said, turning back to him.
“Ladies first,” he told her, waving the gun toward the stairs.
They descended the stairs and strode across her backyard. “Where are we going?” The more she knew, the better. Maybe she could stop this before they got too far. Now she was glad her parents were out. She wouldn’t want them in danger.
“It’s not far,” Burke said rather than answer her question.
Once they were in the car, she pulled out her cell. “I should let Liam know. He’ll wonder why I’m not home.”
“Drive,” he suggested. “You’ll want to hear me out first. There are things you need to think long and hard about before you speak with him.”
What did that mean? She tamped down her fears and focused on getting away, putting distance between herself and her parents’ home before they arrived.
She reached way down deep for calm. Struggled to keep her voice steady. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? And why you felt the need to use force to have me go with you?”
He buckled himself into the passenger seat, keeping the gun trained on her. “No questions now. Just drive.”
She backed out of the driveway and then remembered to fasten her seat belt. Not easy with one hand.
“Which way are we headed?”
“Keep going the way you are, then turn right at the intersection.”
She did as he asked. When he still offered no explanation for where they were going, she said, “You came a long way. I’m assuming this is important. Maybe about your PI friend who was murdered?” She wanted to learn as much as she could, even as her mind raced, trying to figure out what to do.
He nodded, his expression somber. “It’s a real shame.”
“The two of you worked together for a long time—before he went out on his own, I mean.”
“Decades. He was the best investigator I ever employed. Make a left at the light.” He shook his head. “But he got sloppy toward the end. I had ignored a mistake here and there over the years, but it became too much.”
Halle glanced at him. “That’s too bad.”
“You can only overlook so much before you realize that the situation is becoming a serious liability.”
She nodded as understanding dawned. He’d killed Austen. She needed to stop Burke before he killed her too.
“Turn left here onto 16.”
She tensed. Keith Springs Road, Highway 16, would take them out of town. “Where are we going?”
“I had to drive down very early this morning,” he said rather than answer her question about where they were going. “I had to find the right spot.” He glanced at her. “That was particularly important.” Then he surveyed the interior of the car. “Choosing a means of transportation that wouldn’t be connected to me was important, too. I learned a few things from Austen over the years. There are all sorts of people you can hire to do these sorts of things. But some aspects I prefer to handle personally. It’s better that way. No worries of anyone talking. No potential witness.”
Fear bolted through her. She slowed for the turn. Her heart thumped so hard she could hardly breathe.
He pressed the muzzle of the handgun to her temple. “Do exactly as I say. Do not doubt as to whether I’ll use this or not.”
Halle stared straight ahead and started moving forward again. “Whatever you say,” she said tightly. “But I need you to lower the weapon.”
He pulled the gun away from her head but kept it in his hand, laying on the console between them. “Then drive until I tell you otherwise. Drive carefully and within the speed limit.”
She did as he asked, potential scenarios for escaping swirling through her head.
“When I first started out, I was a little fish swimming in a big pond,” he began as she drove farther along a road that went up the mountain and eventually across the wildlife refuge into Alabama. Once they were beyond the Keith Springs area there was basically nothing but woods and the occasional trail hunters used.
She had to find a way to get away from him...to warn Liam. But she couldn’t get the gun away from him here. He’d overpower her quickly. He had an iron grip on his weapon.
“But I was determined to make myself indispensable,” he went on. “All I had to do was find the right niche. After a few not-so-successful starts, I found the perfect one. All those rich people in Nashville. There had to be a way to tap into those resources in a way that cut right to the heart. You know, people are far more generous when emotions are involved.” He laughed. “Luckily for me, there were plenty among them who suffered from one fertility issue or another. Not to mention the ones who just didn’t want to put their bodies through the trauma of carrying a child and then giving birth. There are those unsightly stretch marks and such.”
Halle set her fear aside and glanced at him. Playing to his ego would work to her benefit. “You became the go-to attorney for private adoptions.”
“Oh, did I. I took every opportunity to offer what no one else could or would. You know, it’s amazing what people will gladly pay to get exactly what they want. The problem to overcome was availability. There’s not always a child with precisely the desired features. Just the right color hair or eyes isn’t such a huge obstacle, but a clean bill of health from the bio parents. Maybe talle
r parents or certain dimples or—” he glanced at her “—freckles. Sometimes they were just looking to replace the child they’d lost with one that resembled him or her as closely as possible.”
The reality of what he was saying filtered through the desperation pounding at her skull. “You had to find the perfect child.”
“To the letter. The more specific the request, the more expensive the product.”
Product? They were talking about children here. Her stomach turned in disgust. “Not such an easy order to fulfill.”
“Tell me about it. There are some self-centered people in this world. You combine that sort of selfishness with money and you have customers desperate to throw that money around. But Frank, he was good. He had the process down to a science. I gave him very specific parameters from the beginning. The children could only be taken from people who were dirt-poor or homeless or just plain bad. The kind with no means to pursue a real search and the type the police wouldn’t likely believe. People who shouldn’t have had kids in the first place. The only time he was allowed to go outside those parameters was if the requested product could not be found otherwise. Frank would go all over the place. He never shopped in the same town twice or in places too close together. He was very careful. At least, most of the time.”
Halle felt sick. The mere idea of all the people whose children had been snatched from them made her soul ache. What kind of monsters did this sort of thing and dared to look at it as simply supply and demand?
Whatever it took, she was going to take this scumbag down.
“I appreciate you sharing your career-building experience,” she said, summoning her bravado and going for nonchalance, “but what does this have to do with me? I didn’t even get a chance to talk to Mr. Austen. He was dead when we arrived.”
Burke glanced at her then. “Take the next right.”
Heart in her throat, she slowed and made a right turn onto a narrow dirt road. She drove slowly until she reached a gate.
“Stop right here.”
She did as he asked, put the car into Park and shut off the engine. Think, Halle! There was the gun. He had the upper hand, for sure. But she was younger and more physically fit. She could outrun him if she got a chance.
