Answers For Julie (Book Nine In the Bodyguards of L.A. County Series)

by Cate Beauman

  Chase braked at the four-way stop a block from Neve’s house. He waited for the car that stopped before him to go and accelerated forward, sliding a glance Julie’s way as she looked out the window. He didn’t know how to help her right now. Being here didn’t seem to be enough, not when she refused to see what was right in front of her. She was Alyson Porter. She looked just like her birthmother, had memories of an early childhood she’d buried deep within her subconscious, and she had found pictures of the woman who’d lived within walking distance of the Porter family home in 1990—the same woman who raised her as her own for the next seventeen years until she perished in a car accident shrouded in mystery. Miranda Keller had taken Alyson and turned her into Julie. There were more questions than answers, but those facts were undeniable. Yet Julie chose to see what she wanted to see—what she needed to see.

  He pulled up to the gate, punched in the code he’d memorized, and drove through, stopping and waiting for the wrought-iron to slide shut behind them. Here they were, back again with new information to work with. Julie didn’t seem to think they’d discovered much during their interview with Mr. Dubois, but he sure as hell came up with a few leads he wanted to follow. He was going to see what he and Ethan could do with it, and then he would bring in Agent Tillis if that became necessary. That was the approach he would take for now with Julie so on edge.

  The more people who knew, the more of a circus this would become. Eventually the press would catch wind of this story, and Julie’s private hell would become public. He’d told Neve Julie needed to come to terms with everything in her own time, but after his and Julie’s quick exchange outside Mr. Dubois’ home, he wondered if she would come around to accepting the truth before the media swarmed in. She needed more facts, more proof, even though DNA testing would solve the identity of her maternity. But DNA wouldn’t give her the how’s and why’s. He needed to give her the whole picture. Pulling into his designated spot, he shut off the car. “Once we get inside, I should check in with Ethan.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I need to call Leila and make sure everything’s okay with the studio.”

  “Great.” He opened his door to the cold, ready to get to work.

  “Chase.”

  He stopped. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for the night away. I needed it.”

  “You’re welcome.” He got out and shut his door, meeting Julie at the hood of the car. “Come here, Jules.” He pulled her against him, looking into her eyes through her shaded lenses.

  “You’re a good man,” she said before he could speak. “You were always a nice boy—my best friend. You’re an even better man.” She captured his cheeks in her hands, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

  He slid his fingers through her soft black hair, now cold from the chilly breeze. How easy would it be for him to tell her he loved her? Right now, he could say the words, but he pressed his lips to hers again instead. “Thanks.”

  She hugged him and settled her head on his shoulder. “I just wanted you to know.”

  He steamed out a breath, holding her tighter through the bulk of their coats.

  She drew away. “Go make your calls.”

  He pulled her back. “One more.” He kissed her again.

  She smiled. “I think that should get me through the next couple of hours.”

  He smiled back. “You know where to find me if it doesn’t.”

  Her smile spread into a grin.

  “I’ll get the bags.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

  “Jules—”

  “I could use another couple of minutes.”

  “I can wait.”

  She shook her head for the second time. “I’m fine.”

  He hesitated.

  “I’m good, Chase. Promise.”

  He nodded. “Okay.” He walked up the steps, looked over his shoulder at her one more time, and let himself into the quiet house. “Hello?” No one answered, so he hurried up the stairs to his room, relieved that he wouldn’t have to waste time with small talk. Eager to make his call, he gave the door a gentle kick, pushing it half-closed as he selected Ethan’s number.

  “Cooke.”

  “Hey, it’s Chase.” He pulled off his jacket and set it on the foot of the bed.

  “Hey, man. How are things going?”

  “It depends on the moment.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he walked to the window, staring out at the acreage covered in snow. “Julie had another dream last night. She remembered falling off of Noah’s back and ripping her arm open on the cupboard door.”

  “The scar.”

  “Yeah. She’s Alyson Porter. Of that I have no doubt.”

  “How’s she doing with that?”

  “She’s still in denial. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “It sounds tough.”

  “I’m hoping it might be a little easier if I can give her all of the information.” He steamed out a breath, well aware of how difficult that was going to be.

  “You know we’ll do whatever we can from this end to help you out.”

  “And I appreciate it.” He wandered back to the bed and sat on the edge. “I just talked to Aaron Dubois. Miranda Keller nannied for him during the summer and fall months of nineteen ninety using the alias Dawn Summerman.”

  “Which would explain the pictures the babysitter had.”

  “Yeah, but that’s about all it explains at this point. Dubois confirmed she dated that sleaze you ran for me, Donnie Dorman. Aaron Dubois said Dawn started seeing him late summer. Not long after, she started acting different: secretive, wasn’t as attentive to the kids she was watching, lots of whispered conversations behind closed doors. Then she and Dorman had a fight Thanksgiving night. A couple days later, she decided she was going home to Texas and her family who she’d made up with. Miranda’s family has always lived in Washington.”

  “Huh,” Ethan said.

  “Dubois had two daughters,” he continued. “One was the same age as Alyson. He showed us a couple of pictures of Dawn Summerman with his kids. The youngest has similar coloring to Julie—olive complexion, long black hair—pretty little girl.”

  “You’re wondering why Miranda didn’t just take her.”

  He steamed out a long breath. “Yeah. It crossed my mind.”

  “Probably money. Alyson came with the promise of the Porter millions.”

  “Maybe. Probably.” He stood, pacing, restless. “But that’s not jiving either. Why leave a ransom note then never attempt to collect? Miranda had some trouble during her late teens—ran away a few times, got mixed up with the wrong crowd, but I still can’t wrap my mind around her masterminding a kidnapping plot. She was working with someone. I’m guessing Dorman.”

  “Sounds like you’re probably right.”

  “We need to figure out the five W’s here and add ‘how’ to the equation.”

  “Maybe they pussied out. Saying you’re going to do something is a hell of a lot different than actually doing it.”

  “But they followed through with the riskiest part: the actual abduction. The Porters were throwing a party for over a hundred people that night. Anyone could have looked out the window to see someone taking off with Neve and Jay Porter’s daughter. Someone in the neighborhood could have spotted them as well.”

  “All good points, man.”

  “We definitely have a mystery on our hands.”

  “So what can we do out here in LA?”

  “I want a full rundown on Donnie Dorman. I have the rap sheet, but I need his former addresses for the past thirty years.”

  “I’ll probably have a couple of the guys help me with this—Tucker, Reed, probably Austin.”

  “Yeah. Definitely. I also want a rundown on Miranda Keller—deeper than my initial look. She disappeared for four years. Where the hell was she? She used the alias ‘Dawn Summerman.’ Why? There may have been others, but at this point that’s what we’ve got. We also need to figure out what happened between December fif
teenth and June nineteen ninety—before she brought Julie back to Washington. We know they were in Florida, but for how long? Did they move around a lot? I’m going to call Dale Abbot’s widow. Abbot isn’t Julie’s father, but Miranda knew him somehow—well enough to feed Julie a decent half-baked story. Let’s also look into apartment fires in the Tampa area right around May nineteen ninety.”

  “We’ll get right on it and see what we can dig up. I’ll have Tucker take a look at what we get. He can help us build profiles and compare them to the crime scene.”

  He balled his hand into a fist with the small rush of excitement. This is what he needed. This was how he was going to find answers for Julie. “I’d like to have him create one for Miranda as Miranda Keller and also one as Dawn Summerman. Something happened. Something tipped the scales from nanny to abductor or co-abductor.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “I’m going to see if I can talk to Becky Maglio myself. Donnie Dorman and I are going to have a date tomorrow. Julie said he was playing with her. Let’s see if he wants to play with me. I’ll also talk to Neve and Noah.”

  “I thought big brother was a dick.”

  “He is, but he’ll have to suck mine—” He turned and suppressed a wince as Julie stood in the doorway, her guarded eyes locking on his. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “I’ll call you after we get something here.”

  “Thanks.” He hung up. “Hey.” How long had she been standing there?

  “Hey.” She crossed her arms tight across her chest.

  “That was Ethan.”

  She nodded. “Why are you going to talk to Becky and Noah?”

  “I’m looking for a fresh perspective on the information we have to work with. We’re basically working a cold case in reverse here.”

  Her stance turned more rigid. “You have your kidnapping victim and your abductor, now you need to figure out what happened.”

  He sighed. “Jules—”

  “Julie,” Neve walked up next to her dressed in her typical business attire. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

  “You’re not,” she said, turning away.

  “I was hoping I might be able to speak with you for a minute.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” She looked over her shoulder at Chase and walked off.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, knowing there was a new wedge forming between them. This was only going to get harder. Julie couldn’t allow Miranda to be the villain, but he wasn’t going to stop until she didn’t have to ask why any longer. He looked for the number for Cedar Junction and dialed, more than ready to sit down with Donnie Dorman. The bastard had something to do with the abduction of Alyson Porter. He was going to figure out the part he played in ripping a child away from her family.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Julie hesitantly followed Neve down the west wing hall, trying to decide who she wanted to see less right now: the woman walking in front of her or the man she left in his room in the east wing. She stepped into the two-story library and stopped, turning a slow circle and staring in awe at the thousands of volumes lining the shelves. “This is incredible.” Bakersfield Public Library didn’t even have this many books.

  “There’s certainly plenty of reading to be done in this room.”

  “A lifetime.” She tore her gaze away from the stacks and looked at Neve.

  She smiled. “I’m so glad to see you back.”

  “Thank you,” she answered more stiffly than she meant to.

  “Will you sit down and talk with me?”

  “Sure.” Julie sat on the leather sofa next to Neve, ready to get this over with. Then she was locking herself in her room and avoiding everyone in this house like the plague.

  Neve turned, tucking her right leg under her left in a casual gesture, closing more distance between them. “Did you have fun on your adventure?”

  “Yes. We went skiing.”

  “Good.” Neve gave her a decisive nod. “Julie, I want to apologize to you for my behavior, and Noah’s.”

  She frowned. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  She smiled sadly. “I’m afraid that’s not quite true. When I spotted you at the gas station in Washington, I saw the child I’ve been searching for for over two decades. There you were, so pretty, pumping gas while you talked to some man. All I could think was finally I found you, but I forgot to look at this from your point of view. I can only imagine how hard this has been.”

  “It hasn’t been easy,” she admitted, lacing her fingers in her lap as she grew more uncomfortable by the second.

  “While you were off skiing, I had some time to reflect on the last several days. I’ve been very selfish. This is hurting you.” She laid her hand on Julie’s. “I just needed to know you’re okay. I needed to know that the little girl Becky tucked into bed for me that night—my little Ally—grew up healthy and happy and whole, and you’re all of those things.”

  Why did Neve’s words suddenly make her sad? Julie looked at the table full of family pictures, zeroing in on Alyson and Neve hugging and smiling for the camera. The mother in that picture loved her little girl. That mother had baked cakes with her children and picked her daughter up, comforting her when she fell and ripped open her arm. For the first time since she arrived in Newton, Julie felt as if she and the woman at her side had both been robbed of something special. “Neve—”

  “Noah won’t bother you for the remainder of your visit. I can promise you that.”

  She nodded.

  “I would love for you to stay for the ball on Saturday. I understand you’ll need to go back to Washington—your home—after.”

  She rubbed at the horrible ache in her chest. So this was what it felt like to be ripped in two different directions, to feel as if she were betraying the woman who’d raised her by reaching out to the woman who had more than likely given her life. Swallowing, she cleared the constricting emotions clogging her throat. “This hasn’t been easy for you either. You think you found your daughter, and she hasn’t been very warm when you’ve been nothing but kind.”

  Neve’s eyes softened. “She’s been everything I hoped she would grow up to be.” She gave Julie’s hand a squeeze. “I can’t imagine being any prouder.”

  Taking a chance, Julie turned over her trembling hand and held Neve’s.

  “I hope we might be able to have lunch together. Perhaps we could shop for a dress…if you think you can stay for the next couple of days.”

  “I’m—I could shop tomorrow.”

  Neve smiled. “I think that sounds lovely.” Her gaze wandered to the large grandfather clock in the corner. “I’m glad we had a chance to talk.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this shorter than I would like.” She broke their connection and stood. “I need to get back to putting flyers together for The Foundation. Will I see you and Chase at dinner tonight?”

  She thought of the conversation she overheard Chase having with Ethan, when Chase called her mother an abductor. His words had been a slap in the face. She wanted to be angry—maybe she was, but as she stared into Neve’s eyes, her eyes, she knew he was right. Miranda Keller certainly had something to do with Alyson Porter’s disappearance. “Yes, you will.”

  She smiled. “I’ll see you at seven then.” She turned and walked away.

  “What are the flyers for?”

  She stopped and turned. “The little boy in Connecticut who went missing last night. He’s only five. His family is frantic. The Alyson Porter Foundation hangs flyers for any kidnapping within a 200-mile radius and helps get images distributed over the internet—all over the country and world. We’ve already placed hundreds, but there’s more to do. You just never know where they’ll end up.”

  “I could help you if you want,” she said, ignoring the fresh wave of guilt.

  “That would be great. Every second counts. Every single one.”

  They walked out, and she thought of the poor family in Connecticut, ho
ping the flyers helped them more than they had Jay and Neve.

  ~~~~

  Chase drafted up a letter that Ethan needed to complete some office paperwork and paused when he heard a noise in Julie’s room. He put his laptop on the bed when her light blinked on, and he walked next door. For an hour and a half, he’d waited for her to head back this way. He wanted to clear the air between them, especially when they were running out of time to be together. He stood in her doorway, watching her stare at a piece of paper as she sat on the edge of her bed. Giving a tap on the wood, he took another step inside.

  She looked up, meeting his gaze.

  “Can we talk?”

  She set down the paper. “Sure.”

  “You were gone a long time.” He closed the door and walked to her. “Is everything okay?”

  She nodded, not quiet meeting his eyes anymore. “I was helping Neve.”

  “That’s good.”

  She nodded again, lacing her fingers. “We’re going shopping tomorrow.”

  He raised his brow, surprised by their latest development. “That sounds like it could be fun.”

  “Yeah.” She gave him a small smile and looked down, rubbing one thumb on top of the other.

  He sighed, kneeling down in front of her. “Jules.” He gripped her hips and tugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist as he stared at her. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “I don’t want to feel mad at you, but I do.”

  Hurt was more like it. “I don’t know what you heard of my conversation with Ethan, but I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

  She ran her palms up his arms, settling them on his shoulders. “I know you’re helping me. I know that, but when I heard you call my mother an abductor, it pissed me off—even if it’s true.”

  “I wish I could make this better for you. If I could, I would.”

  “You are.” She traced his ears. “Just by being here, by standing by my side.”

  He took her hands, kissing her knuckles. “I can’t think of any place I’d rather be.”

  She smiled and slid off the bed, her chest brushing his as they stood thigh to thigh and she stared into his eyes. “I’m sorry I got angry with you for something that’s not your fault.”