“What do you mean?”
He nodded toward the window. “This shop, for instance. Everything they sell is blue—from fabrics to feathers to blue diamonds. You would think such a specialization would limit their customers, but they’ve been in business for years, and owning one of their custom-made rings has become something of a status symbol in New Orleans.”
“You seem to know a lot about this place,” Naomi said.
The frown on his face deepened. “I should. It was one of my wife’s favorite places to shop. The owner searched for two years to find a Kashmir sapphire the exact shade of Aubree’s eyes. She loved that ring. She never took it off. It was the only piece of her jewelry missing after she was killed.”
The mention of Aubree DeWitt’s murder set Naomi’s heart to pounding. Suddenly the Quarter no longer seemed quaint and romantic, but remote and dangerous, the darkened doorways and shadowy alleys providing too many hiding places for someone with sinister intent.
When Alex took Naomi’s arm, a shiver tingled over her. They continued down the street, turning on St. Peter.
“Tell me about that night,” she said reluctantly.
She heard the sharp intake of his breath before he said almost angrily, “Why do you want to know about that night?”
“Because it changed my daughter’s life. I think I have a right to know.”
“Taryn isn’t your daughter, Naomi.”
She turned to gaze up at him. “You can still say that after you saw Sadie’s picture?”
His face looked ravaged in the filtered light from the street. “A lot of children have similar facial features.”
“It was more than that, and you know it.”
“God,” he said in a low, fierce tone. “I never imagined anything like this could happen. Not in my wildest dreams.”
“But it has.”
“Yes, and I don’t exactly know what to do about it.”
At the corner of Chartres and St. Peter, they stopped behind a group of tourists clustered around a woman dressed all in black, her white face glowing in the streetlight. They listened for a moment as she described in gruesome detail the route her vampire tour would take. Naomi and Abby had taken a ghost tour once, and they’d both thought it great fun. Tonight, however, the thought of spirits and vampires and other creatures of the night were not particularly appealing to Naomi. She had no desire to pay a midnight visit to St. Louis Cemetery.
Alex, silent and brooding, took her arm and steered her around the crowd. On Decatur, they waited for traffic behind a line of horse-drawn carriages, then crossed the street to the Caf;aae du Monde. They found a small table facing the street, and Alex ordered beignets and two caf;aaes au lait.
The waiter hustled off to get their orders, returning almost immediately with a basket of pastries and two steaming cups of coffee.
When Naomi hesitated, Alex slid the basket of beignets toward her. “Come on,” he said. “We skipped dessert earlier, remember? Besides, you can’t come to New Orleans without having a beignet.”
Naomi took one, leaving a thick trail of powdered sugar across the table as she lifted it to her mouth. The confection was delicious but rich, and she had no appetite, so she merely nibbled. As for Alex, he still seemed tense as he sipped his coffee.
“Do you and Taryn ever talk about the night her mother died?”
Alex studied the street. “Why do you ask?”
“She told me that she has suppressed memories about that night.”
Something indefinable flashed across his features. He turned with a frown. “She told you that? She’s never talked to me about her mother’s death. Not once.”
“Why?”
“How should I know?” he asked harshly. “The better question is, why, all of a sudden, has she decided to open up to a stranger,”
The answer flashed in his eyes, and Naomi almost felt sorry for him. The fact that Taryn had confided in her seemed to be yet another piece of evidence that there was a connection between them. But Alex was still in denial, and Naomi couldn’t blame him. “Maybe she finds it easier to talk to someone she doesn’t know,” she suggested softly.
He shrugged but didn’t answer.
“Was Taryn in the house the night Aubree died?” Naomi persisted.
If possible, his expression grew even more troubled. “No. Why do you ask?”
Naomi hesitated, unsure how much of her conversation with Taryn she should reveal. “It would explain the suppressed memories.”
Alex shook his head. “She was away when it happened. She, her nanny and Aubree had all gone to the Bellamys’ condo in Biloxi for a few days. For some reason, Aubree decided to come back early. Taryn and Louise came home the next day and found her. The police thought that the killer must have gotten inside while Aubree was upstairs sleeping. She heard a noise, and when she came down to investigate, he attacked her. She tried to get away, but when she ran out onto the terrace, he caught her. He bashed in her head with a heavy metal urn, and then he threw her body into the pool.”
Naomi’s stomach churned at the awful visions. “How horrible.”
A shadow moved in his eyes, something dark and terrible. “The terrace was covered in blood. When Taryn and Louise got home, Taryn saw it and went outside to see what it was. She was the one who found her mother’s body in the pool.”
“Oh, my God.”
Alex drew a ragged breath. “As you can imagine, she was very upset. Hysterical. Louise had to call a doctor in to sedate her. Taryn slept for nearly forty-eight hours straight, and when she awakened, it was as if nothing had happened. She didn’t remember finding her mother’s body. She didn’t even remember that her mother was dead until she was told, and then she showed very little reaction. It was as if she’d put Aubree completely out of her mind.”
Naomi felt almost sick with shock. That poor child, she thought, tears flooding her eyes. She wanted desperately to go to Taryn now, wrap her arms around her and hold her tight. Keep her safe. Make all the bad things in her life fade away. But no one could do that. Not even a long-lost mother.
Naomi tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. “The police didn’t have any suspects?”
“Oh, they had plenty of suspects.” Alex turned to stare at her across the table, and for a moment, it was as if the two of them were alone in the caf;aae. Naomi trembled at the intensity of his gaze. “And I was at the top of their list.”
CHAPTER NINE
Alex paced back and forth across the thick carpet in Foley’s office while his friend tore into a container of gourmet takeout. Foley had been out of town the day before, and this was the first opportunity Alex had had to speak with him since Naomi had sent him the picture of her daughter. He wondered if, after seeing that picture, Foley would still insist Naomi had no case.
The succulent aroma of crawfish ;aaetouff;aaee filled the air, but rather than whetting Alex’s appetite, the scent made him feel a little sick.
“Sure you don’t want something to eat? Mama Tam do know her crawfish,” Foley said, trying to tempt him with the name of a popular eatery on Decatur.
“I’m not hungry,” Alex muttered.
“Then quit that pacing,” Foley snapped. “You’re getting on my nerves, and I’m trying to enjoy my lunch here.”
Alex strode over to the window, staring out for a moment before he turned back to Foley “Taryn and I had dinner with Naomi Cross last night.”
Foley had been in the process of taking a bite, but his fork froze in midair. “What was the point of that?”
Alex shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s still pressing me for a DNA test, and I thought if she could meet Taryn, see that we’re a family—”
“She’d go back to Mississippi and forget all about you?”
Alex turned back to the window. “Something like that, I guess.”
“I take it things didn’t quite work out that way. What happened?”
Alex pulled out the picture of Sadie Cross and the one of Taryn he k
ept in his wallet, and walked over to lay them on Foley’s desk, side by side. “She sent me this.” He tapped the picture of Sadie with his fingertip. “That’s her daughter, the one who disappeared ten years ago.”
Foley whistled in disbelief. “These pictures could be of the same kid. Or else—” He glanced up, meeting Alex’s gaze. “They could be of identical twins.”
Alex nodded, the nerves in his stomach tightening. “You want to know the irony of all this? When Naomi sent me that picture, she’d never even seen a photo of Taryn at that age. She just assumed, she knew, they’d look this much alike.”
Foley studied the photographs for another long moment. “There are some differences. Subtle ones.”
“Yes, I know,” Alex said grimly. He’d studied those photos for hours on end, and he’d committed each and every deviance to memory. The pictures were of two different girls, but the differences were mostly superficial. The length of their hair. The way they smiled. The similarities far outweighed the anomalies.
“I hate to say this,” Foley said, “but I’m afraid this could change everything.”
“You think Naomi has a case now, don’t you?” Alex started to pace again, and this time, Foley didn’t try to stop him. He seemed upset, too, and Alex wondered if it was the knowledge that Naomi might now have a case, or the possibility that Taryn might not be Aubree’s daughter. That Aubree might have been involved in something as dastardly as taking someone else’s baby.
Foley picked up the photographs and eyed them side by side. An emotion Alex couldn’t decipher flickered over his features. “I’ll be honest with you, Alex. The likeness between these two girls could be enough to compel a judge to order a DNA test. And if the test turns out positive—if it proves that Taryn is, in fact, Naomi’s birth daughter...”
“She could take her away from me.” Alex balled his hands into fists as he kept pacing. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t allow it to happen. Something had to be done.
“From everything you’ve told me, Naomi Cross would be a formidable witness on her own behalf. Imagine her on the stand, recounting everything that’s happened to her. One baby stolen at birth, the other kidnapped at the age of five. She’d have the whole damn courtroom eating out of her hand, and it would be next to impossible to go after her under cross-examination without alienating the jury.”
Alex stopped pacing and came back over to sit across from Foley’s desk. “So what the hell am I suppose to do? I can’t lose my daughter, Foley. I won’t.”
“Just take it easy,” Foley advised. “I’ve made some inquiries about Naomi, but now we’ll start digging deep. If she’s got secrets, we’ll find them. We’ll do whatever we have to do to discredit her.”
His words left a bad taste in Alex’s mouth. “There’s something else that’s worrying me,” he said. “If Joseph really is planning to go after custody of Taryn, how will this figure into his case?”
Foley sat back in his chair. “If the DNA test disproves Naomi’s claim, then it won’t have any bearing one way or the other. But if she does turn out to be Taryn’s birth mother, it could work to your advantage as far as Judge Bellamy is concerned.”
“How do you figure?”
“It could substantially weaken his claim.”
“Which is probably why he’s already contacted Naomi.”
“He has? What did he say?”
“She didn’t say this in so many words, but I think he may have threatened her.” Alex frowned at the thought. “If he thinks he can scare her off, he doesn’t know her very well.”
“But you do?” Foley’s gaze burned into his and Alex had to glance away.
“Let’s get back to the lawsuit.”
“All right,” Foley agreed. “Like I was saying, if a DNA test proves she’s the birth mother, it could weaken Bellamy’s claim, but by the same token, it would certainly enhance hers.”
Alex suddenly felt more weary that he’d ever thought possible. How could he fight a two-front war? “What do you recommend I do?”
Foley put away his food. “You’re not going to like my recommendation, but as your attorney, I’m duty-bound to give it to you anyway.”
Alex shrugged. He was willing to consider anything short of murder, at this point. “What is it?”
“Remember when I told you that if you were married Bellamy might have a more difficult time convincing a judge to remove Taryn from your custody?”
“I remember.” Alex had considered it a lame suggestion at the time, and he still thought so. “But that’s when we thought the biggest threat came from Joseph. Now...” He trailed off, nodding toward the pictures on Foley’s desk. “Even if I did remarry, it wouldn’t do a thing to stop Naomi.”
“Not unless you married her.”
“What?” Alex couldn’t have been more stunned if Foley had knocked him in the head with a two-by-four. “You’re not serious.”
Foley leaned forward, his blue eyes compelling. “Think about it, Alex. What better way to disarm Joseph Bellamy? You’d have a wife. A stable home for Taryn. Any judge worth his salt would have to look favorably on that.”
“But it wouldn’t stop Naomi,” Alex repeated. His mind was reeling at Foley’s suggestion. “If she’s the threat you seem to think she is, if she has that good of a case, why would she ever agree to something like this?”
“Because there’s always a chance a judge would rule against her, and then she’d have nothing. This way, she gets Taryn no matter what. You both do. And together, you’d have a pretty formidable defense against Bellamy.”
“This is crazy.” Alex got up, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand.
“Is it?” Foley shrugged. “I don’t think so. Consider how it would look to a jury. A mother who was deprived of her baby at birth marries the man who raised the child. It’s human drama at its most powerful. I’d put Naomi Cross on the stand and milk it for all it’s worth. And this time, she’d be on your side.”
Foley was starting to make a certain amount of sense, and that wasn’t a good thing in Alex’s estimation. “I must be out of my mind to even be listening to this nonsense. I barely even know this woman.”
“That’s why these kinds of arrangements are called marriages of convenience. They happen all the time.”
“If that’s supposed to convince me, it doesn’t,” Alex muttered.
“Just think about it,” Foley advised. “When you come to a decision, let me know. I can draw up all the necessary documents. You’re a wealthy man, so naturally, we’ll need to protect your assets...”
But Alex was no longer listening. He’d had a sudden vision of Naomi Cross waiting for him in their marriage bed.
* * *
NAOMI WAS SURPRISED when she got a call from Alex that afternoon asking her to dinner. Like last night, there was an edge to his voice she couldn’t quite define, and she wondered why he wanted to see her again so soon.
Last night he’d been worried that Taryn might have said something to upset her, and, in fact, she had. But not in the way Alex meant. Naomi couldn’t get Taryn’s comments about her mother’s killer out of her mind. She couldn’t forget Taryn’s vow that she would find her mother’s murderer, no matter what she had to do.
Naomi hadn’t told Alex about that vow, in part because she hadn’t wanted to betray Taryn’s confidence, but mostly because something deep inside her warned that it might not be prudent to allow word of Taryn’s search to get out. Whoever had killed Aubree had never been apprehended, and if he—or she—thought there was a chance of discovery, even ten years after the crime, Taryn could be in grave danger.
The thought of that scared Naomi half to death, and she made her own vow to do whatever necessary to protect her daughter. No matter what.
The first thing she had to do was to find out everything she could about Aubree’s murder—when it had happened, where it had happened, who was a suspect.
To that end, she drove to the library to scour the archived
issues of the Times Picayune for articles relating to Aubree DeWitt’s murder. At the Children’s Rescue Network, they used the Internet extensively to coordinate their efforts with various law enforcement bodies and the national organizations for missing children. Naomi was no stranger to a computer.
Since she didn’t know the exact date of Aubree’s death, she entered Aubree’s name into a search engine and waited for all the articles to come up.
There were dozens of hits, most of them from the society pages, but because they were listed in chronological order, she was able to scroll quickly through the pages until she found the ones she wanted.
The first article relating to Aubree’s death was dated August 16.
The date stopped Naomi cold. She suddenly felt short of breath.
According to the headline, Aubree’s body had been found the day before, on August 15.
A cold sweat broke out on Naomi’s skin. It couldn’t be true. There had to be some mistake because that day had been forever burned into her memory.
Her hands shook as she scanned the other headlines. The date leapt out at her again. Aubree DeWitt’s body had been found on August 15, the same day that Sadie had disappeared.
It had to be a coincidence. Aubree had been murdered in New Orleans, and Sadie had been taken in Eden, miles away. What possible connection—
Taryn. Taryn was the connection.
Stop it! Naomi told herself firmly. She couldn’t start making wild assumptions. If she was going to help Taryn, she had to go about this in a reasonable and objective manner. A lot of things had happened on August 15 that year, and they didn’t necessarily have anything to do with Sadie’s disappearance. This could be nothing more than a bizarre coincidence.
But what if it wasn’t?
Still trembling with shock, Naomi clicked on the first headline. The murder had made the front page, and Naomi quickly read through the lengthy article. Aubree’s body had been found on August 15, but the time of death had been placed somewhere between eighteen and twenty-four hours prior to Taryn’s gruesome discovery. That meant Aubree had been murdered the day before.
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