by Rebecca Deel
“I can’t believe Ethan let her do that.”
“According to this, he didn’t know about it until late this afternoon. He was furious with her, but understood why she did it. She says there was no point in keeping up the pretense after Kyle barged into my office and realized it was Serena, not me.”
“Did he tell Serena what he wanted?”
Meg refocused on the screen. “He wanted to know if I had given any thought to his proposal.”
Rod’s fork clattered to the table. “Excuse me?”
The stillness in his face made Meg think back on her choice of words. Her lips twitched. “The press secretary job.”
“I see.”
A full-blown smile curved her mouth for a moment until the danger Serena placed herself in came back to mind. “We don’t have much time, do we?” Had she set a killer on her sisters’ trail? All she wanted to do was draw the danger away from them. Instead, she feared she had dragged them into the killer’s crosshairs.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sara Westerman flipped on the garage light. “Mother is quite a packrat. You may have to go through 40 or 50 boxes before you find what you’re looking for.”
Rod stared at the neatly stacked boxes which filled about half of the garage. Good grief. This could take hours, hours he wasn’t sure they had. “Did she label them?”
A flush stained Sara’s cheeks. “I’m the one who packed them and I did it in a hurry. Mother had been hospitalized at the time and when she was well enough to leave there, she went directly to the assisted living facility. I brought her the things she asked for, but everything else I threw into boxes so I could sort them later. I haven’t had time.”
He raised his brow, but said nothing. She hadn’t had any time to sort through the boxes in five years? “I appreciate you letting us search. Do you want a receipt if we find what we need?”
She laughed. “If Mother said you could have something, that’s good enough for me.” She glanced at her watch. “Look, I’ve got an errand to run before the stores close, but my oldest son’s in the house. Will you be all right if I leave you?”
“Sure.” Meg smiled. “Tell him to come rescue us if he hears a loud crash.”
“Will do.” Sara waved as she walked back into the house.
Meg whirled to face him. “What are we going to do? This could take all night.”
He strode to the nearest three-deep stack of boxes, lifted one to his shoulders, and placed it in front of her. “Divide and conquer, Cahill. I’ll take the next one and we’ll restack them after we determine the contents.”
They worked steadily for a couple of hours, sifting through boxes. He moved the last two in front of Meg.
She wiped her hands on her jeans. “What if Sara threw them away, thinking they were trash?”
Rod loosened the tape holding the box lid together. “Then we’ll think of something else. There’s always a way to find what you need.” He opened the flaps and peered at the contents of the box. Satisfaction bloomed in his gut. “I think this is it.” He reached into the box and withdrew a handful of date books. “Here’s 1977, 78 and 79.”
Meg knelt beside her. “Let’s start with 1977. I bet the paper trail would start then.”
He handed her the books. “Here, you start scanning through them while I reposition some of these boxes.” Rod worked in silence for a few minutes. When he’d placed the last box in the right spot, he returned to Meg’s side.
“I don’t believe this.”
He glanced at her face. His eyes widened. Anger glittered in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Red flared in her cheeks. “Take a look at this.” She pointed to a jotted note on December 15, 1977.
Rod scanned the entry. Warren Drake. $50,000 deposit. Remaining $50,000 due on delivery. Delivery of what? “Is there more?”
“Oh, yeah.” She flipped the pages to March 23, 1978. “Read this one.”
Drake paid in full. Delivery complete. Deposit Julie Nelson’s money after obtaining signature.
Rod sat on the concrete floor, book still in his hand. His gut twisted. “He bought Ty?”
“Well, it’s sure not to pay for the hospital. Baby deliveries didn’t cost that much money in the 70’s. And March 23 is Ty’s birthday.”
He shook his head, still having a hard time believing the man he’d respected would sink so low. “Why?”
“Drake’s wife couldn’t have any more kids.”
“I remember she had several miscarriages.”
“Enough that the doctor told the Drakes they couldn’t try any more.”
“So? Adopt. I thought that’s what they did with Ty.”
Meg dragged the remaining box closer. “The Senator gave me the impression that his wife was desperate for another baby. And I think he would do anything for her.” She glanced at him. “What I want to know is if this had something to do with Sherri’s murder. She was looking into Ty’s birth parents, trying to find the information for him.”
“A crime more than thirty years old?” He rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know. We’ve got no proof. He could accuse us of harassment. There’s no statute of limitations, but, at this point, who would care? The baby’s a grown man with problems of his own and the Senator’s political career is almost over. Not to mention the fact that he’s dying. Why should he get up in arms over rumors?”
Meg sat in silence a moment. “Maybe he’s not the one who’s worried.”
Rod quirked his brow. “Kyle?”
“Think about it. He’s depending on his father’s reputation and influence to help get him elected. What would it do to his election hopes if people found out the Senator bought a baby for his wife? Even being an adoption advocate can’t make up for buying a child like a dog or a car. Other people wait in line for years to adopt a baby. Some never realize their dream. Drake jumped out of line and bought a baby on the black market. It’s human trafficking.”
Rod thought through Meg’s logic. Much as he hated to admit that his former roommate could be guilty, it fit. “Sherri’s mother was helping her. Maybe she learned too much.”
Rod’s watch alarm beeped. “Time to check in with Ethan.” He flipped open his cell phone and punched speed dial. “It’s Rod. Anything happening at your end?”
“Kyle ditched the tail we had on him. We haven’t been able to locate him.” Disgust laced Ethan’s tone. “And the feds are breathing down my neck about the Senator.”
Rod frowned. He’d prefer to know where Kyle had disappeared to but at least the man didn’t know where Rod had taken Meg. “What about Ty?”
“Splitting his time between the Drake place and Candy’s. He doesn’t have a clue where his brother is.”
“Didn’t waste much time grieving.”
“Watch your back, Rod. I don’t like Kyle disappearing.”
He didn’t either, but how could he have found out where they were? “I’ll talk to you soon.” Closing his cell phone, Rod stood and picked up one of the two boxes they needed to take with them. “Time to roll, Meg. Can you handle the other box?”
Meg waited until they were on the interstate before breaking the silence. “What’s wrong, Rod?”
“Kyle’s disappeared.”
“Disappeared? How? Didn’t Ethan have a tail on him?”
“They lost him.”
Meg’s gaze darted to the rearview mirror. Headlights streamed behind them, none standing out from the others. “Do we need to worry?”
“Just stay alert.” Rod’s expression gave away nothing.
Small comfort. “Do you think he knows where we are?”
Silence.
“Rod?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Meg. Ethan and Nick didn’t tell your sisters where we were going. Josh has the mouth of a clam. Is it possible one of your people let the cat out of the bag?”
“I didn’t tell them. Just gave them instructions to keep in touch by cell and e-mail.”
“So who else knew?”
&
nbsp; Meg sat there a minute before the answer finally popped in her mind. She groaned.
“What?”
“Maeve.”
“The mouth of the south.”
“But how would Kyle get that information from her? He doesn’t darken the doorstep of the beauty salon.”
“Call her and find out if she’s had any contact with him today.”
Meg glanced at the clock. Maeve closed early on Saturdays. She pulled out her cell phone and punched in the hair stylist’s home number. “Hi, Maeve. It’s Meg.”
“Meg! I was going to call you later, but I heard you were out of town. Did you find Mildred okay?”
“Yeah, Ms. Barrett is an amazing woman. I’m thinking about doing an article with her next week. She’s quite a quilter. Listen, did you happen to talk to Kyle Drake today?”
“He was in town today, but didn’t stop in. Why?”
“Did you tell anyone about me seeing Mildred this weekend?”
“Only Zoe.”
A chill rushed over Meg’s body. “Zoe? When did you talk to her?”
“I called your office while I had a slow spot. Sometime after lunch. Meg, did I do something wrong?”
“No, Maeve. Don’t worry. I’m only tracking information.”
“Well, if you’re sure. You didn’t tell me it was a secret. I’m sorry if I messed up a story.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later.”
She ended the call and punched her speed dial. After three rings, Zoe picked up. “Zoe, it’s Meg.”
“Boss! How are you?”
“Do you remember what time Maeve called the office today?”
“Right after lunch.”
“Was Kyle Drake there when you answered her phone call?”
“As a matter of fact, he was. He walked straight into your office, and, seeing Serena, came to my desk to ask me about you. Maeve’s call came in while he was standing in front of my desk.”
“Did you happen to mention Kingsport in your conversation?’
Silence. “I might have. Boss, what’s going on?”
“It’s probably nothing, Zoe. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Kyle knows where we are.” Rod’s voice sounded grim.
He pulled out his cell and punched in Ethan’s number. “It’s Rod. Kyle knows we’re near Kingsport.”
“Get back here. You need more fire power than you have.”
“Hold on, Ethan. Kyle can’t know exactly where we are. I registered us at the motel with fake names and paid for the rooms with cash. Let me try to track down Ty’s birth mother. Her name’s Julie Nelson.”
“You can run it from the station.”
“We’re already here, Ethan. If you’ll run her name for me, I think we can get the proof we need to nail the Senator on human trafficking charges.”
“You serious?”
“Looks like he bought his wife a baby a little over thirty years ago.”
“Ty.”
“Sherri was trying to give her husband a special Christmas present, the name of his birth mother. She said in her diary that her mother was helping her in the search.”
“But would the Senator think that secret worth killing for?”
“He might if he thought it would damage Kyle’s chances for being elected to the Senate in his place. He has high plans for his son. Can’t get any bigger than planning for your boy to be President of the United States.”
Ethan was silent a moment. “There’s no way Senator Drake could have run after Meg and Sherri, but it’s possible he could have capped Mrs. King.”
“The Senator couldn’t have run, that’s true. My money’s on Kyle for that. What if Kyle chased Meg and Sherri down, but the Senator waited for them near the parking lot?”
“The Senator pulled the trigger?”
“The only prints we found on the gun were the Senator’s. We found his button with his finger prints. I’m betting the lab finds Sherri’s blood on his coat. It all fits, Ethan.”
“So how do you want to play this?”
“Give me twenty-four hours to wrap this up. I’ll have Meg back in Otter Creek by this time tomorrow night.”
“All right. But if anything happens to either one of you, I’ll personally see to your demotion and Meg’s house arrest for the next fifty years.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll run the name and call when I have a report.”
After he ended the call, Meg said, “Well?”
“We have to be back in Otter Creek by tomorrow night, whether we find the proof we need or not. Ethan thinks it’s too dangerous to wait any longer.”
“Do you agree with his assessment?”
“Yeah.” He reached for her hand. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.” He just hoped Ethan hurried with the information. Rod’s gut told him they might not have until tomorrow night.
At the motel, Megan threw open the door and stepped back. More stale air rushed out. She wrinkled her nose. Everything she owned would smell like cigarette smoke.
“Potent,” Rod murmured. “Let me check the rooms.”
“Where would he hide?”
He ignored her comment and brushed past her into the room. “Stay here.”
Meg surveyed the surrounding area, what she could see. Night was dark here. She swallowed hard. Really dark. The mountains that entranced her earlier had disappeared in the blackness. Few streetlights peppered the black ribbon in front of the motel.
She shivered, wishing Rod would finish his search. After what seemed like another lifetime, he motioned her inside. “All clear.”
Meg forced a smile to her lips. “Except for the air.”
He secured her door. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Someone we thought was a friend is hunting us. It’s okay to be worried.”
“Worried?” Meg gave a weak laugh. “Try scared to death.”
“Yet you put your head in the noose by writing that editorial.”
“I had to draw his attention back to me. I couldn’t take the chance he would hurt one of my sisters.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s one of the drawbacks of being an identical triplet.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Ethan and Nick won’t let anything happen to them.” Rod tilted her head up. “And I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re growing on me, Cahill. I don’t want to lose you now.”
Listening to the steady beat of his heart failed to calm the erratic beating of hers. She had a feeling they were headed for trouble.
The next morning, Rod rapped on the adjoining door. “Meg, we need to get moving.” An irritated growl answered his summons. He grinned as he lifted the lid from a steaming cup of coffee and set the drink inside her door.
Within a couple minutes, a moan of appreciation drifted through the doorway.
He chuckled. Chocolate and caffeine moderated the tiger’s roar. Returning to the Kingsport area map, he hunted for Julie Nelson’s street. His finger traced the grid until he located his target on the far side of the city. His eyebrows rose. Unless the area had changed since his college days, Ms. Nelson lived in an upper class suburb. How much cooperation could he expect from her? Drake’s conviction implicated her in human trafficking as well. FBI Agent Craig Jordan might offer immunity if she testified against Drake. But would she go for it and at what cost to her present life?
“Ethan found Julie’s address?”
Rod swung around. Meg stood just inside the doorway, dressed in jeans, tennis shoes and a navy Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt, holding her coffee. His heart squeezed in his chest at the sight of her cloud of blonde hair and sleepy blue eyes. “She lives in a ritzy suburb of Kingsport.”
She sipped. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to know you didn’t sleep much last night.”
“Did I keep you awake?”
She had, but not for the reasons she supposed. Kyle’s disappearance worried him enough for Rod to keep watch thro
ugh the night. “How soon can you get packed?”
“Two minutes if you bribe me with breakfast.”
“Deal.”
An hour later, Rod and Meg parked in front of a three-story Victorian-style white house. Leafless tree limbs and bushes shuddered under the onslaught of cold wind. Light glowed through the first floor windows.
“Looks like we’re in luck.” Meg unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. “How do we play this?”
“With great tact. I don’t have jurisdiction here. Eventually, we’ll have to call in the feds.” He rang the doorbell and glanced around the area. Julie Nelson had done well for herself. A lot of classy old homes with large lawns, fountains, gardens, porch swings, all the signs of old wealth.
Locks snicked on the other side of the white door with a large brass knocker. The door opened. A tall, elegant woman stared at them. Rod’s gaze locked on her eyes. Ty’s eyes. Same shade of brown with green flecks. “Julie Nelson?”
She looked from him to Megan and back. “It’s Simms now. Do I know you?”
“No, ma’am.” Rod flipped open his badge. “My name is Rod Kelter. I’m a detective with the police. And this is Megan Cahill.”
Julie Simms face blanched. “I’m late for church, Detective. Can’t this wait?”
“I don’t think this will take long.”
“I suppose another five minutes won’t make any difference.” She stepped back.
Rod didn’t bother correcting her timetable.
Julie showed them into the living room and sank onto the brown leather loveseat, her feet together, flat on the oak hardwood floor. “What is this about?”
“Your son.”
Relief flooded her face. “You must have the wrong Julie Nelson. I have two daughters, both married.” She smiled, more confident now. “I’ll be a grandmother any day.”
Rod leaned forward. “Mrs. Simms, I’m talking about the son you gave up for adoption over thirty years ago.”
Her smile faded. “That was a closed adoption. Even my husband doesn’t know. How you did find out?”
“Do you remember Arnie Castlebaum?”
“My parents hired him to handle the adoption.” Her gaze darted to Meg and returned to Rod’s face. “Why are you here? I didn’t do anything wrong except have a baby out of wedlock.”
