“Oh.” Realization rang through his voice. “That Arthur. Yes, I do believe he’s still here.”
“What does he do for you?”
“If I remember correctly, he works in distribution. Why?”
Distribution? Could he have found out something about Walter Boyce through his job at Baldwin? “I was just curious.”
“Mallory . . .” Warning sounded in Stanley’s voice.
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but be careful when drawing any conclusions.”
Her spine stiffened. “What makes you think I’m drawing conclusions?”
“You’re your father’s child. Thorough. Tough. Always thinking. I have a feeling there’s more to these questions than you’re letting on.”
She said nothing.
“Be careful what you go sticking your nose into,” he finally said. “I’d be doing your father a disservice if I didn’t tell you that.”
“I will. Thank you.” She hung up and leaned back on the couch for a moment, letting herself process the conversation.
There wasn’t much to process. Stanley didn’t think her father was conducting any business in the Caribbean. Mallory didn’t know how to find out more information without also raising suspicions. The truth may have died with her dad and Dante.
Someone rapped at the door. Tennyson. “I just finished talking with Agent Turner.”
Mallory held her breath. “And?”
“He said that, as far he knows, no one ever suspected that your father was involved with Dante Torres.”
Her shoulders slumped with relief. “Good. But what about what Jason saw?”
“It could have been a mistake. This could be some kind of ploy on his end. Only Jason knows that.”
She rose and walked toward the wall, leaning against it. “If Agent Turner is correct, then the truth is that my family just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dante’s men just wanted to rob us because we were wealthy Americans.”
“Or you could have been the end goal,” Tennyson said quietly.
She froze. “Me?”
He nodded. “That’s right. He saw you in town and you reminded him of Alessandra, his wife that he missed very much. He saw the chance to regain something that he lost.”
“Then my family died because of me?”
“That’s not what I meant. None of this is your fault.” His voice softened. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, I’m glad you did. I don’t want to run from the truth.”
Something flickered in his gaze. “No matter how painful it might be?”
“No matter how painful. It’s only after you face the truth that you can find healing.”
Tennyson opened his mouth to say something. Mallory sensed it was big. Maybe a revelation about Alessandra? About what had led him to this point in his life?
Before he could say anything, there was another knock at the door. Grant stepped inside and began reviewing the revised schedule.
But Mallory couldn’t help but wonder what Tennyson was about to say.
CHAPTER 30
Tennyson excused himself when his phone rang, and he saw it was Leigh Sullivan.
Maybe they’d finally learn the truth about Dante Torres.
“Leigh, thanks for calling. I’m hoping this means you have an update.” He stepped into his room for privacy.
“I do, actually. Not only was reexamining the remains approved, but it was given top priority, thanks in part to Admiral Kline.”
“Was it Torres?” Tennyson asked, getting right to the point.
“Of course, you realize how difficult it can be to identify someone when their body has been burned so severely.”
“I do realize that. But I also know you’re one of the best.”
“Since you’re not one prone to flattery, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She let out a sigh. “The dental records matched what we know about Dante.”
“What about DNA?”
“It was very difficult to obtain Dante’s DNA, but there were definite markers in place that matched. The man was the right size, the right weight, the right build, the right age. Plus, you saw his face before he lit that igniter.”
Tennyson had seen his face. Even though it had been dark, the man had looked like Torres. Until Grant said he might still be alive, he hadn’t thought anything about it. But now Tennyson was reexamining everything he thought he knew.
“Is there any chance it wasn’t him?” Tennyson asked.
“Any chance? Of course there’s a chance. There was one thing that bothered me, to be honest.”
“What was that?”
“Dante supposedly broke his arm when he was a teenager. There was a regrowth mark where his bones grew back together.”
“You didn’t find that marker on this man?”
“Well, I did. It was even in the right location on his humerus. What was strange was that the break seemed to be more recent.”
Tennyson’s throat tightened. “Can you be sure the break wasn’t older?”
“I have no way to verify it. The fire could have damaged the evidence, after all. But I’d guess the break happened when the man was an adult, not a child. There’s one more thing I’d like to do. I want to send the bones for some specialized testing. It will tell us, based on mineral content, among other things, what area of the world this body lived in.”
“You can do that?”
“We can. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”
Even if Torres was alive, the question Tennyson struggled with the most was: Why would Torres come after Mallory now? Why not do it when she was isolated?
What if what Jason said was true? What if Mallory’s father was somehow involved?
The questions only made the burden on his shoulders feel heavier.
All he could think was that this was going to get worse before it got better. Tennyson didn’t want to believe it was true, but he couldn’t shake the feeling.
Mallory and Tennyson met with Agent Turner and Ethan Stone after lunch. They went through all that had happened up until now and asked her questions about everything imaginable, then set up a workspace at Trident. Wheaton had joined them for part of the meeting, as had Grant, Logan, and Kori.
When the meeting ended, they headed to Hope House. Mallory needed to do something, or she’d go crazy. Tennyson had already talked to Savannah, who ran the shelter, who said it was okay.
Mallory would be meeting the various women there and speaking with them, hearing their stories, trying her best to minister to their broken hearts after they’d survived the unthinkable.
Excitement buzzed through her—more excitement than she’d felt in writing the book or making public appearances. This was what she really wanted to do. To connect. To make it personal. To help individuals instead of trying to reach the population at large.
“You ready for this?” Tennyson asked as he put the car into park.
He’d been mostly silent on the way here, and she appreciated the quiet time. Tennyson possessed a silent strength that she admired and found comfort in.
She nodded. “I am. Thanks for helping to arrange this.”
“It was no problem.”
Something about the way he said the words made her want to reach over and run her fingers across the smooth lines of his face.
But that would be inappropriate, she reminded herself. There were professional boundaries in place—among other issues. She shoved those thoughts aside. They’d already crossed boundaries they shouldn’t. Mallory knew she should regret it, but she didn’t.
Was she letting herself down by even being open to the possibility of loving again? Was she abandoning everything she’d vowed to accomplish? Or was there a possibility that two really were better than one—as long as the two were filled with mutual respect for each other?
Once at the shelter, Kori positioned herself outside one door, and Logan the other. Tennyson and Grant
went inside with Mallory.
After talking with Savannah for a few minutes, Mallory met with various women, trying to speak hope and encouragement into their lives. One woman stood in the background the whole time, staring at Mallory with hollow eyes. Her arms remained folded across her chest, and she didn’t offer as much as a smile.
“She just came in a couple of days ago,” Savannah explained. “Women arrive here in all different states. Some are angry. Some are scared. Some are simply thankful. Trina hasn’t opened up yet, so we’re giving her space.”
“You know anything about her?”
Savannah let out a soft sigh. “I know she was rescued just across the US border, in Texas. She was a runaway who grew up in Florida. From what I can gather, she had a hard home-life and decided to meet face-to-face with a man she’d met on the internet. You know the story. He seemed too good to be true. He basically groomed her, took away any self-reliance she had, and forced her into prostitution.”
Mallory’s gut churned with disgust. “How old is she?”
“Nineteen.”
“Do you mind if I try to talk to her?”
“Feel free to try. Just don’t be surprised if she won’t open up.”
Mallory nodded and made her way toward the woman. As she got closer, she noted the woman’s blonde hair and blue eyes—not very different from her own. But this woman had dark circles under her eyes. Her frame was nearly skeletal. Her hair was limp.
“My name is Mallory.”
The woman stared at her, eyes hollow and without the first sign of emotion.
“I understand you just got here a couple of days ago,” Mallory continued.
Again, no response.
“I know the place you’ve been in,” Mallory said. “I’ve been there. It’s raw and gut-wrenching and a nightmare that most people can’t even imagine. If they wanted to. And no one wants to. It’s easier for them to block it out, isn’t it? But I understand.”
She’d hoped her words would reach the woman somehow. But there was still nothing.
“I don’t know your story, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here to listen,” Mallory said. “I believe restoration is more than possible. It can be a reality. Our past doesn’t have to define us.”
“Everyone, it’s time for our group therapy session,” Savannah announced. “If you’d all meet me in the study, we can start. Grab the folder with your name on it as you come in.”
Mallory took a step back, disappointed that she hadn’t reached Trina. She’d tried. That was all she could do. For now, at least. There was still the hope that she might connect with her later.
All the women in the room began filing toward the study in the distance. Mallory gave Trina one last look, waiting for her to say something.
Instead, the woman pushed herself from the wall, staring at Mallory with a hard gaze.
As she passed by Mallory, she leaned in close.
“He’s still alive,” she whispered.
Then she grabbed her folder and disappeared into the counseling session.
CHAPTER 31
Mallory stood at the edge of the room, her thoughts spinning.
He’s still alive.
What was Trina talking about? Torres? Had she seen him? Did she know that for a fact?
“Trina . . . ,” she called, her voice cracking with tension and emotion. She needed more information. Not knowing wasn’t an option.
The woman kept walking toward the room where the therapy session was being held. She paused at the doorway long enough to shoot Mallory one last look before the door closed.
Mallory couldn’t read the look. Was she apologetic? Gloating? Warning?
She couldn’t tell.
Mallory’s heart pounded in her ears, each beat deafening.
He’s still alive.
Trina’s haunting whisper dwelled in her mind. Mallory squeezed her eyes shut. Certainly she’d misunderstood. Certainly Trina was talking about someone else.
But as she’d told herself earlier, it was better to know the truth. Earlier, the possibility of Dante being alive was only a theory. But what if Trina had proof? What if she’d seen him with her own eyes?
“Mallory?”
She turned at the sound of Tennyson’s voice. He’d been waiting for her against the wall but suddenly appeared beside her. His eyes wrinkled with concern as he observed her.
“Yes?” Her voice didn’t sound right. It was too shaky, too thin.
“Are you okay?” He touched her elbow.
Just the feeling of his skin on hers started a new kind of adrenaline rush surging through her.
He’s still alive.
She forced herself to focus. To steady her breathing. To come back down to reality. “I need to talk to her again.”
Tennyson looked toward the door in the distance. “Who? The woman who just walked past and into the session?”
Mallory nodded.
She’d misunderstood. That was it. It had to be. Trina was talking about someone else.
“You may have to wait until her session is done.” Tennyson narrowed his eyes. “Is there anything I need to know? You’re not acting okay.”
She glanced around, not wanting anyone else to hear what she had to say, then leaned closer. “Trina wouldn’t speak to me the entire time I’ve been here—until just now. She walked past and whispered, ‘He’s still alive.’”
Tennyson’s muscles went rigid. “Torres? Has she seen him?”
“That’s what I want to ask her.”
Tennyson glanced around the room, tension radiating from him, before he took her arm and led her outside. They didn’t speak until they were near the water, at the place where the breeze off the bay would drown their words.
They stood face-to-face, probably too close. Her hair whipped into her eyes, and her heart pounded furiously against her chest.
“Mallory, I talked to my friend Leigh Sullivan today. She’s been reexamining Torres’s remains.”
Her lungs froze. “And?”
“There are things that don’t match, Mallory. She’s sending the bones for more testing.”
She ran a hand over her face, her stomach sinking with dread. “I’ve been in denial, Tennyson. I haven’t wanted to believe it could be true, despite everything I’ve seen. Everything that’s been going on. But what if it is? I’m never going to live without fear again.”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’m not dropping this until we have answers, Mallory.”
“Maybe Trina meant that Dante was still alive through his men.” She nodded, her theory making more and more sense. “You know? They’ve taken up his mission, keeping his spirit active and his vision for the future solid.”
Tennyson shifted. “What was that vision? Did he ever talk about it with you?”
The intensity of his questions made her feel off-kilter. “There was a lot of Spanish, so I couldn’t understand most of what he said. However, there was one man he’d speak with . . . I believed he was an American who spoke broken Spanish.”
“You never saw his face?”
She shook her head. “I could hear conversations through the vent. I’d try to make out what I could. I did hear them mention ROZ several times.”
“The arms company?”
She nodded. “That’s right. The FBI believes that Dante was working with them and purchasing weapons. The investigation has been ongoing. At least, that’s what I understood. Once they got the information from me, they haven’t exactly kept me in the loop.”
“Let’s get back to the house. I’m interested in hearing what else Trina has to say. Maybe there’s a good explanation for this.”
Tennyson took her arm, and they walked at a fast clip toward the house. As they neared the building, she spotted Logan and Kori standing there, guarding the perimeter, just as they’d been instructed.
Savannah met them at the back door. The lines on her forehead clearly showed something was wrong.
“Where’s Trina?�
�� She held the screen door open and ushered them inside.
Mallory blanched. “What do you mean? She’s in the counseling session. I saw her go in before I stepped outside.”
Savannah shook her head. “She left early. Said she had to speak with you, Mallory.”
Dread pooled in Mallory’s stomach. “I haven’t seen Trina since I stepped outside. I just assumed she was still in session.”
Savannah’s eyes widened. “We need to look for her. Now.”
CHAPTER 32
Tension formed between Tennyson’s shoulders.
When he and Mallory had been at the shore, he’d been facing the house the whole time. He hadn’t seen Trina leave. Part of the backyard area had been blocked by a few trees, so she could have gone in that direction.
Either way, unease sloshed inside him.
Something was wrong.
Tennyson snapped into guard mode. “Which way did she exit?”
Savannah nodded toward the front door. “She stepped out that way.”
“How long ago?”
“Probably ten minutes.”
Tennyson glanced at Logan and Kori. “Did you see her?”
Logan shook his head. “I was watching you two the whole time.”
“Did you see anyone else come and go?”
“No.”
“All the other women are still in session,” Savannah added.
There was only one person missing.
“Where’s Grant?” he asked.
“He stepped into my office to make a phone call,” Savannah said.
“Before or after Trina stepped out?”
“A few minutes after.”
“Stay here,” he told Mallory. “Logan, Kori, stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight. And call the police.”
Mallory remained quiet and stepped closer to the wall of the house.
Right now Tennyson needed to find Trina.
The woman who knew Dante was alive.
Where could Trina have gone?
On instinct, he followed the edge of the property out toward the street. A footprint in the dirt seemed to confirm his theory that Trina may have gone this way. He didn’t know for sure that it was Trina’s, but it very well could be.
Distorted Page 21
