Cut and Run

by Mary Burton

“Do you know the name?” she asked.

  “Captain Hayden asked me about Jack Crow. I had human resources look through the old personnel records, and we did use Crow for a few odd jobs in the mideighties. He was referred to us by Danny Garnet.”

  “Do you know what kind of cases Crow was working?”

  “Divorce cases mostly. He did surveillance and took pictures that we could use in court. He quit after six months. According to his exit interview, he said it wasn’t the kind of work he wanted to be doing.”

  “Have you seen Crow in recent years?” Faith asked.

  “I wouldn’t know the man if he walked in the room and shook my hand. And I’m still not sure how all this relates to me.”

  As tempted as she was to tell him about the graves in the country, she hesitated. “Slater and McIntyre, specifically your father, represented three women between 1987 and 1990. Their crimes were petty, and soon after they were dismissed, they vanished.”

  “I can’t help you. I wasn’t born.”

  “But you could pull their client records, couldn’t you?”

  “As I told the Rangers, I can, but I won’t. Attorney-client privilege.”

  “For your own sake, you should.” She pulled the DNA printouts from her purse and handed him the first.

  He read the results, and though he was young, he was proving himself to be a very savvy defense attorney who could pick up technical details quickly.

  She pulled out the second sheet of paper. “Marissa Lewis lives in San Antonio and is adopted like me. As it turns out, we are half sisters.”

  PJ frowned, and this time when he read the report, he made no comment.

  She studied the last sheet before extending it to him. “I also have a half brother.”

  He raised his chin but hesitated before he took the paper. This sheet he didn’t read as he had the others.

  “You are my half brother,” she said. “According to a DNA test, we share the same father.” The quick DNA test had proved they were half siblings, and PJ’s DNA was not a match to Josie’s. Faith pictured Peter Slater, the portly man with a thick shock of gray hair and a smile that could light up a room.

  “I never consented to giving a sample of my DNA.”

  She would save this argument for the courts later. Now she just wanted him to hear the truth. “The three girls I mentioned were found in graves out in the country. They’d all been held against their will, and the Rangers believe they were forced to give birth to children before they were killed.”

  He set the paper down and shook his head. “No. That’s not correct. My father might have had affairs, but he would never do anything so horrific. He wouldn’t.”

  “We are already in the process of testing the mtDNA of these women against mine, Marissa’s, and yours. It’s not as quick a process, but mtDNA will prove or disprove if we are their offspring.”

  He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  The door to the study opened, and Margaret appeared with a tea cart filled with cups, a fresh pot of coffee, and cookies. “What is going on in here? You two look so serious.”

  “It’s nothing, Mother,” PJ said.

  Margaret filled a cup and handed it to Faith and then filled another and handed it to PJ. “Faith, my son is overprotective. He thinks I’m fragile china and can’t handle hard news.”

  “Margaret,” Faith said. Peter had always protected Margaret, and she’d been happy to live in his shadow and to dedicate herself to him and their son. “It brings me no pleasure to deliver this news.”

  “I know, dear. You would never hurt anyone,” she said. She drank her coffee and watched as Faith took a sip of her own.

  There was a sharpness in Margaret’s gaze that rivaled the intensity of her late husband’s and son’s. “Maybe I can help this along. Is this about the police officer at the hospital?” Margaret asked. “I know you’ve been visiting her.”

  “It turns out, Mother, that the police officer is Faith’s identical twin.”

  “A twin? Good Lord, Faith,” Margaret said. “Who hurt that poor woman?”

  Faith shifted in her seat, feeling more uncomfortable about this conversation. “The police have a name, but they’re still trying to figure out what motivated him to kill.”

  Margaret set her cup down. “Kill. That’s terrible.”

  Faith felt suddenly dizzy and wondered if being here now had been too much. “The thing is, Margaret, we have DNA tests linking me to two other half siblings.”

  “We don’t need to get into that tonight, Faith,” PJ said. “My mother doesn’t need to be subjected to your theories.”

  “You’re the one that told me about the first missing girl, PJ. Josie Jones.”

  His lips flattened into a grim line. “She was listed in Russell McIntyre’s datebook, not my father’s. That leads me to believe he might have been behind all this.”

  “Behind what?” Margaret asked. “I can see you are very upset.”

  PJ began to pace.

  Faith felt her stomach flip-flop and was certain now she was going to be sick.

  “Faith, you look pale,” Margaret said.

  She stood and looked toward the door. Her vision blurred, and she staggered.

  Margaret stood and hooked her arm in Faith’s. “PJ, would you go and get some water from the kitchen? Faith does not look well. Maybe even a ginger ale.”

  PJ shook his head. “Sure.”

  When he was gone, Margaret guided Faith back to the couch. She carefully brushed a blond strand from Faith’s eyes and smiled.

  “I know about the graves,” Margaret said.

  Faith began to sweat as she stared into the face of a woman she’d known all her life. Margaret’s smile had hardened in a way that hurt more than it frightened her. “How?”

  She dropped her voice a notch and said, “Because I handpicked all those girls. I chose them to give my husband children after I discovered I couldn’t.”

  “You did this for Peter?” Everyone had a darker side, but she realized now that this couple, who’d always made her feel welcome in their home, were monsters.

  “A wife is duty bound to give her husband a son. And I couldn’t. Broke my heart. The first girl gave us you and, as it turns out, Macy. I thought she had died the day she was born along with her mother, but she’s tough, isn’t she?”

  Faith tried to stand but just a little pressure from Margaret now was enough to keep her in place. “That girl bled to death. You see, Garnet and my husband had a financial arrangement, and when Peter died, Garnet came to me and demanded more money. He thought I’d be shocked, overwhelmed, or terrified or whatever it is men think we women do when faced with a problem. He said he had evidence and would go to the cops if anything happened to him. I told him to leave my house, and I called Mr. Canada that day.”

  Faith’s vision blurred. For an instant she thought it was related to the car crash but then as she stared at Margaret, who put her own coffee cup aside, an idea dawned on her. “Did you put something in my coffee?”

  “A strong sedative. It will be enough to put you to sleep. It’ll give me time to talk to PJ. Once I’ve spoken to him, he’ll understand everything we did was out of love.”

  Faith shook her head, hoping now that Hayden was listening closely. “Peter always gave the impression he was the master of his castle.”

  “That’s what everyone believed. But in reality, Peter made no important decision regarding business or this family without me. PJ knows his father and I bent the rules from time to time. He knows when to look away.”

  The front door slammed open, and she heard Hayden’s distant voice. He was demanding to see her. She could barely focus or bring herself to call out to him. She tried to stagger to her feet but couldn’t. She collapsed back against the couch as he stormed into the study. Hayden called out her name, and when she didn’t respond, he called for a paramedic.

  Faith’s vision cleared enough for her to see Margaret’s face tighten with concern and
worry. “Thank God you’re here, Captain Hayden. Faith is not doing well.”

  Hayden took Margaret by the arm and pulled her away from Faith. She wanted to tell him that Margaret had poisoned or drugged her. She wanted to shout and scream for him to be careful. But the words wouldn’t form. Her eyes wanted to close, but she struggled to keep them open. The distant sound of wailing sirens grew louder.

  Hayden’s voice was sharp and cutting as he read Margaret her rights. Margaret was calm when she demanded to see her son. And when that request was denied, she insisted on a call to her attorney. Faith felt a mix of satisfaction and sadness as she watched Brogan lead her away. She still couldn’t reconcile the woman she’d loved as a second mother with this monster.

  Hayden touched Faith on her forehead and lifted her in his arms. “I heard everything she said.”

  Faith blinked, struggling to speak clearly. “She’s put something in my drink,” she said.

  “I know.” He carried her to the front door and down the steps. In his arms, she felt safe. He was the only thing in her life at this moment that made sense. She only hoped Margaret hadn’t poisoned her. She hoped she wasn’t going to lose the man she loved.

  “You’re not leaving me, Faith,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I love you too damn much to lose you.”

  Lights flashed around her as she passed out in his arms.

  EPILOGUE

  Four Weeks Later

  Restless sleep and nightmares had plagued Faith since her confrontation with Margaret. Her mind continued to replay the scene featuring Margaret’s almost serene face. Later, after Hayden had interviewed PJ, he’d relayed to her how confused PJ had looked, how he’d quickly recovered, and how in the end he’d sided with his mother.

  A knock on her bedroom door yanked her from the terrifying replay, and she sat up to see Kat standing in her room. The girl had moved into Faith’s house immediately upon discharge from the hospital. So far the two were still getting to know each other. Like most teenagers, Kat wasn’t always easy. Throw in the stress of the adoption, and well, sometimes it was a study in patience.

  The bright spot had been Nancy Ridgefield, who had proposed the idea of Nancy and her husband, Mike, adopting Kat’s baby. Faith had presented the idea to the girl, and the four of them had sat down and had several lengthy discussions. In the end, Kat had decided she liked Nancy and Mike Ridgefield and had agreed.

  “My bed is wet,” Kat said. “I’m soaked.”

  Faith tossed back her covers, surprised at the rush of panic and worry shooting through her body. She considered herself cool under fire. Crime scenes, autopsies, even a grilling from a defense attorney in court didn’t faze her. But this moment felt entirely different.

  “Don’t worry. It’s your water breaking,” Faith said. “We just need to get you changed and to the hospital.”

  “Is the baby going to fall out?” Kat asked, sounding panicked.

  “No, it’s not going to fall out. We’ve got time. Let’s get you changed.”

  She helped the girl change into clean clothes, dressed herself in jeans, a pullover blouse, and sandals, and then grabbed the go-bag she’d packed when the girl had moved into her house.

  “Paige was in so much pain,” Kat said as Faith drove through the dark streets toward the medical center. “I remember her crying.”

  “It won’t be like that for you. I’ve told you there are medicines that will help. It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

  Each time Faith remembered Paige’s anguished cries in that drab room, she thought about Josie, Olivia, and Kathy. They’d not had any help. They’d suffered alone, or worse, with Danny Garnet offering his ham-fisted help.

  But Paige was back home with her parents and her baby girl. She was trying to put her life back together. She’d survived.

  Faith tightened her grip on the steering wheel, forcing a smile for Kat’s sake as she pressed the accelerator and sped through a yellow light.

  “Where’s the Ranger?” Kat’s voice sounded strained as she shifted in her seat.

  “Hayden is south of San Antonio. He’s working a case.”

  “Top secret.”

  “It must be,” Faith said. “He didn’t want to leave until the baby was born, but there was no avoiding it.”

  “Shouldn’t you call him and tell him?” She grimaced and pressed her hand to her belly.

  “I will as soon as I get you checked in to the hospital.”

  “And you need to call Nancy and Mike. They’re going to want to see the show.”

  “Let’s just get you to the hospital.”

  “You look worried,” Kat challenged.

  “Nope. Not. A. Bit.”

  Faith pulled up in the circular entrance to the hospital, dashed inside, and returned quickly with a wheelchair. As a nurse pushed Kat toward labor and delivery, Faith parked the car and then ran inside with Kat’s bag.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was changed into scrubs and in the room, the worried girl’s contractions rapidly growing closer. She called Nancy first, who answered on the first ring. Nancy sounded calm and focused and promised that she and Mike would be there soon.

  The next call was to Mitchell. He answered quickly as well, and she discovered hearing his calm, even voice settled her own jitters and worries.

  As it turned out, Kat delivered Baby Boy Jones three hours later, with Nancy and Mike looking on. The boy was healthy, perfect, and squalling in a way that reminded Faith a little of Kat when the girl was complaining.

  Faith took lots of pictures of mother and son. She texted several to Hayden.

  Nancy and Mike held back, watching nervously as the nurse laid the baby in Kat’s arms. For a long moment, the girl stared at the baby boy and then cried. “Nancy, come and get your kid.”

  Faith took the baby from Kat and laid him in Nancy’s arms. The couple cried, thanked Kat over and over, and then stared at their son with such love. After the Ridgefields moved into their own room with the baby, Faith stayed and held Kat as she cried.

  Had Faith’s adopted parents looked at her with the same devotion? She’d met Marissa’s parents, and they’d listened quietly as they’d learned the circumstances of their daughter’s birth. An investigation into the Lewis family revealed that the wife, Caroline, had been a member of Margaret Slater’s tennis club. It had been Margaret who had come to Caroline and told her about a baby girl who had been born. Caroline and her husband, Kyle, had agreed immediately to the adoption. Slater & McIntyre had handled all the paperwork.

  When Kat was finally asleep, Faith went to the lobby café, bought sandwiches and soda, and took them back upstairs to the physical rehabilitation step-down unit, where Macy had been staying for the last two weeks.

  Faith stood at the door of the floor’s rehab gym and watched as Macy wrangled with crutches. Macy’s now very short blond hair caught the sunlight coming through the window.

  Her sister was getting stronger every day, and her doctors often commented on her drive and determination. But Macy set high standards for herself and when she didn’t meet them, often got frustrated.

  “This is crap,” Macy said to the therapist. “I used to run a sub-six-minute mile. And now I hobble around like an old woman.”

  The therapist, a practical, no-nonsense woman who only smiled when her patients excelled, raised a brow. “Work harder, old woman.”

  “It’s looking good to me,” Faith said.

  Macy shot her a look, a blend of annoyance and hope. “You’re always positive.”

  “It’s a curse,” Faith said. “I got us a couple of sandwiches. Turkey on rye, your favorite, and those baked chips you like. Are you almost finished?”

  The therapist nodded. “We are.”

  “Great. See you there.”

  “Aren’t you going to push my wheelchair?” Macy asked.

  Faith looked to the therapist, who shook her head. “Boss says no can do. I suppose you’ll have to wheel yourself.”

  “You ar
e a slave driver, just like the PT Goddess of Pain.”

  Faith laughed. “If you want to eat hospital food, then by all means stay here.”

  Macy muttered a curse but held up a hand. “I would crawl for a sandwich right now.”

  “I’m hungry, so you better hurry,” Faith teased.

  As she left her grumbling sister behind, she had to smile. It was nice having family. They were far from perfect, but that suited her just fine.

  She set the sandwiches on a round table in the break room and then put a straw in each cup. She grabbed napkins from a dispenser.

  The click of Macy’s crutches had her standing, pulling out a chair, and helping her settle. Faith stacked her crutches against the wall beside them.

  Macy grabbed a half of a sandwich and took a bite, her eyes closing with pure pleasure. “You’re in scrubs, which means Kat had her baby. Boy or girl?”

  “Boy. Healthy with a strong set of lungs,” Faith said.

  Faith was pleased by her sister’s speech and cognitive recognition. Like Faith, Macy was having trouble sleeping. She also suffered from headaches, but her memory and recall were now almost perfect.

  Macy picked up a napkin and wiped her fingertips. “And Nancy and Mike now have the baby as planned?”

  “They do. It was bittersweet.”

  Both were silent for a moment, and then Macy said, “Kat had a choice. And that counts for a lot. She’ll also get to see the boy from time to time.”

  “Yes. She’ll be a big part of his life.”

  “Are Nancy and Mike still calling the kid Alexander?”

  “I suppose. We didn’t get that far today.”

  Macy and Faith fell into silence as each ate her sandwich. The fate of Josie, Olivia, and Kathy was never far from their minds, the story of their deaths becoming clear as the details unfolded.

  Forensic examination of the bones had revealed that Olivia and Kathy both had broken hyoid bones. The horseshoe-shaped bone was found in the neck, and its fracturing generally indicated strangulation.

  Special Agent Kate Hayden, using Macy’s key, had retrieved Jack Crow’s package from her mailbox. She’d returned it to Austin and, with Hayden, Brogan, Faith, and Macy in attendance, had opened it.