Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1)

by Mary Crawford

  Marcus shifts as well as he can considering that he’s wearing a seatbelt and pulls Ivy close for a kiss. A few moments later, I hear him declare in a low, reverent voice, “What a ride it’s going to be. I can’t wait!”

  Hopefully, this is the last time we’ll have to play the game of musical chairs with mysterious visits to show up on unsuspecting family members’ front doors. For this visit, I decided the best strategy would be to leave everyone else in the car while I explain the preliminary circumstances to Mr. Roguen and get the lay of the land. I don’t just have butterflies in my stomach for this one. I have a freaking flock of seagulls in there. I cannot even imagine how nervous Rogue and Ivy are. Rogue is very invested in getting all of the answers as soon as she can. I try to caution her that that’s not always the way it happens but it’s different when it’s personal and not professional. She’s been waiting her entire lifetime for this moment. I understand—I remember that the wait to find the answers on Francine’s paperwork seemed like it took forever and a day. I checked the mailbox seven or eight times every day just in case I missed something.

  Just as I’m about to use the knocker again, the door opens. Isaac Roguen hasn’t changed a whole lot in the years that have passed. He’s older of course, but he’s still quite fit and doesn’t look almost fifty.

  He narrows his gaze at me as he asks, “You lost?”

  “No sir, I believe we have a meeting in about ten minutes,” I offer.

  Mr. Roguen’s eyes widen as he exclaims, “You came clear out here for a meeting during the holidays? You do know we have Internet service out here right? We could have Skype-d like the rest of the planet.”

  I chuckle as I respond, “I realize that, sir. I consulted on a fiber-optic job for this quadrant. But, I have something really important to talk to you about and I figured you might appreciate the personal touch.”

  “Well, get out of the cold then. It’s icy enough to freeze off a bear’s unmentionables out there.” He motions me to sit down at a big breakfast bar. He nods to a coffee maker and asks, “Want some coffee?”

  “Sure, I’d appreciate a cup.”

  “Cream and sugar?” he asks handing me the mug

  “Black works fine, thanks.”

  Isaacs smirks with a very familiar grin and says, “You’re a man after my own heart. I could never stand that fussy stuff. If you’re going to drink coffee, just drink the damn coffee.”

  “Amen to that!” I declare as I give him a mock toast with my mug.

  He levels a serious stare at me as he says, “Okay, the time for bullshit is over. What brings you to the middle of nowhere during Christmas break? You don’t even have any skis with you. So, what’s the deal?”

  “Well, sir. This is rather difficult to explain. There are many complex layers and I’m not sure how they all fit together yet. Perhaps you’ll be able to shed some light on that for us—” I start to haltingly explain. I hate how disjointed I sound. Hell, I think I probably sounded more professional when I started the business at fifteen than I do now. How pathetic is that?

  Mr. Roguen is starting to look very frustrated. Finally, he says, “Son, I specialize in complicated. I had a whole career unraveling what most people considered unsolvable. If I can do that, I can help you get to the bottom of whatever is bothering you. So, just start at the beginning please.”

  “I believe I told you that I own a business in Florida that helps people solve identity fraud. It’s called Identity Bank. I’m pretty gifted with computers and I’ve owned the business since I was a teenager. A student at my alma mater came to me with concerns that appeared while she was using an online dating service. It appeared that someone had commandeered her profile and was pretending to be her. Yet, the men that had met this other person said that the other person appeared to look just like Ivy and didn’t appear to be doing anything nefarious.”

  “It sounds like a pretty sophisticated cat-fishing job to me.”

  “That was my first thought as well. So, I went to this woman’s place of work and investigated. What I found shocked me. Everything in this case went against type. If I expected the case to go one way, it went entirely the opposite direction. It’s been one surprise after another.”

  “So, did you find that it was a cat-fishing ring? You know, they’ve gotten more sophisticated and they’re using multiple partners to cover up their tracks now.”

  “Oddly, it wasn’t a case of cat-fishing at all. It was a computer vulnerability at the online dating service complicated by a classic example of the twin’s weird ability to communicate telepathically.”

  Isaac chokes on his coffee as it goes down the wrong pipe.

  I strike him sharply between the shoulder blades to help dislodge the liquid. When he recovers, I ask, “Are you all right, sir?”

  “No son. I don’t know that I’ll ever truly be all right,” he responds with a haunted look on his face.

  “Sir?” I ask, uncertain what to do next.

  “It’s nothing you did. It still sneaks up on me sometimes. You would think I’d be over it by now. It’s been over two decades but, every once in a while it still gets me.”

  If I needed any more confirmation other than what my team got me, I just got it in spades.

  “I lost my wife and my twins. They never even made it through childbirth,” he explains, gruffly.

  “Well, sir that’s actually why I’m here today,” I reply as gently as I can. There are only so many ways that you can completely shift someone’s life paradigm.

  “If you’re here about the life insurance money I accepted, I’m sorry that I never got you the death certificates. I tried repeatedly to get them from the hospital. But they ran me around in circles. Since I was deep undercover. It wasn’t like I could give them hell over it. By the time I finally got out of that position, I was in no shape to cope with the administrative nightmare of trying to sort out the death of my wife and daughters. I went through such a deep depression that I barely knew my own name.”

  “Mr. Roguen, look at me and listen to me carefully. I’m not here to collect any money. I don’t represent an insurance company, the hospital or any governmental agency. I’m here because your daughter, Ivy Love Montclair got a little freaked out because someone else was using her dating profile. That someone else turned out to be your other daughter, Rogue Medea Cisneros Betancourt.”

  “What? How I do know this isn’t all one big scam?” he demands, but his hands are shaking as he puts his coffee cup to his lips.

  “I was suspicious too. That’s why I ordered DNA tests. Ivy and Rogue are indeed identical twins and the biological daughters of Rosa Marie Cisneros Betancourt and Isaac Randall Roguen.”

  “I didn’t give a sample, how did you do the test?”

  “Mrs. Betancourt had your old shaving kit and she gave it to me. The lab was able to extract some epithelial cells and blood.”

  Rosa? My Rosie is alive too? How can this be?” The hospital called my handler and said she went into early labor and died before they could save the babies. I never even got to say goodbye.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder to help steady him as he walks over to the couch. “You’re sure she’s not dead?” he confirms, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

  I nod my head. “Yes, she definitely is not dead. I just had tamales with her and the twins over Thanksgiving. She is a wonderful woman.”

  “You mean you’ve see my babies?” Isaac asks in a shaky voice. “I know Ivy hired you, but you’ve seen her since?”

  “Yes sir. I see them quite often since I’ve taken a personal interest in this case,” I cautiously reply.

  “Just how personal is your interest?” he shrewdly asks. “I took a personal interest in someone once and I married her. It was the smartest thing I ever did.”

  I smile as I respond, “I’m not sure Rogue and I are quite ready to book the church yet, but I’ll admit I’m thinking along those lines. I am rather fond of your daughter.”

  Isaac
shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that my Rosie named the girl after me and I didn’t even know she was alive. Some law enforcement expert I am—”

  “I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself sir. You didn’t have any reason to believe someone lied to you. Who does that? That’s just cruel. I think you’ve been punished long enough. Would you like to meet your daughters?”

  “My babies are here? In Piedra? Why didn’t you say something?” Isaac exclaims holding his hand over his heart.

  “I thought it might be better if I explained a little bit of the background before springing them on you since I didn’t know exactly what I was walking into. I had a duty to protect them too. Although, it appears you were a victim as well.”

  “Hell yes, I was a victim!” Isaac declares vehemently. “By the time I’m done, heads are going to roll all over Vermont. I’ll deal with that later though, right now all I want to do is see my babies.”

  “I understand, I’ll go get them from the Jeep,” I respond as I zip my jacket.

  “You left two women alone in the freezing temperatures in the middle of the woods? Macklin, I had you pegged as a better professional than that.”

  “I hadn’t realized that you had done any research about me but as it turns out, Rogue is a pretty tough cookie in her own right and Ivy brought along her boyfriend who looks pretty tough, although I suspect Rogue could still wipe the floor with him.”

  “Son, when you’re in my line of work, you don’t just talk to anybody who calls you up. Of course I did a full background on you. But, I’m familiar with your work. I saw you at a LEO Conference a few years back. You were the keynote speaker about security on mobile devices. You’re an extraordinarily smart young man.”

  “Thank you, sir. I just try to work with what God gave me. Let me go get the ladies. I should tell you that they’re a little bit nervous— they don’t quite know what to expect from this meeting.”

  “Well, that makes three of us,” Isaac quips.

  When I return to the Jeep, both women look sick with anxiety. Rogue can barely stand to look at me. I hold out my hand so that she can make the awkward climb out of the sport utility vehicle. When she makes it to the uneven snowy ground, I take advantage of the excuse to hold her close for a moment. I gather her into a loose embrace and kiss her gently.

  She looks up at me with pleading eyes and asks, “How terrible is the news?”

  “I guess it depends on your perspective,” I answer, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

  “Oh my gosh! It must be awful,” Ivy whispers harshly as she walks up behind Rogue gripping Marcus’s hand tightly.

  “No, I didn’t mean to scare you. The news is actually great for you guys. It’s just been really rough on your dad for the last couple of decades. It turns out that he was lied to just like everyone else. He was told that all of you died, including Rosa.”

  “No wonder he never went back to Mama!” Rogue breathes in a tortured gasp. “He must’ve been totally destroyed.”

  Ivy’s brows draw together in concentration as she asks, “Wouldn’t he have figured it all out at the funeral when there was no one to bury?”

  “Apparently, he was deep undercover and didn’t find out about the ‘deaths’ right away. There was just enough subterfuge and fuzziness to make it all seem plausible. Later, when he tried to get death certificates I guess he got nothing but the runaround, but because he was operating under cover, he couldn’t make an issue of it.”

  Marcus shakes his head in disbelief as he comments, “Either this is the strangest case of unrelated coincidences or a massive case of fraud.” He turns to me and asks, “Super-Secret-Spy-Guy, how do you go about figuring out which it is?”

  I pop my neck and knuckles —a bad habit I acquired when I was in elementary school and still revert to when I need to stall and collect my thoughts— “I guess I would have to meticulously rebuild every file and document every single conversation. I don’t even know that it would be possible since a lot of the personnel involved would have retired and perhaps passed away by now.”

  Rogue nods slowly as she says, “I’m not even sure it would be worth it because the damage has been done. Mama’s life has pretty much been destroyed. All the hopes and dreams she had when she married dad ended the day he vanished and never came back. As close as Ivy and I are now, we’ll never know what it would’ve been like to be raised as sisters.”

  Ivy nods, “Rogue is right. We’ve all lost so much.”

  “You can begin to make new memories,” Marcus suggests. “Your dad is waiting on the other side of that door and he’s probably ready to tear it down. I know I would be.”

  Ivy briefly hugs Marcus before grabbing Rogue’s hand and pulling her toward the front door. “Marcus has a point. It’s not going to do us any good to dwell on what could have been. Because we can’t relive the past. Let’s go meet our father.”

  Rogue blinks away tears as she says, “Here’s hoping that he’s every bit as awesome as I made him out to be in my imagination.”

  Ivy stops dead in her tracks as she whispers, in a barely audible voice, “What did you call your imaginary dad?”

  Rogue looks away from Ivy and then gazes down at the ground as she confesses, “Okay, you have to cut me some slack here— I was really little when I made this up— but I used to call him Padre Pop.”

  Ivy appears stunned as she exclaims, “No freakin’ way! I used to call my imaginary family Padre Pop and Madre Mop.”

  Rogue raises an eyebrow at Ivy. “Dare I ask what my name was in this little scenario?”

  Ivy sticks her tongue out at Rogue. “That was a no-brainer. Your name was Kelly. Just like Barbie’s sister. Aren’t all sisters named Kelly?”

  Rogue laughs out loud. “That’s funny since I had absolutely nothing in common with Barbie or her little family. But, that is spooky about our imaginary families. These days nothing about the way our brains work surprises me. Still, I think we should let Isaac take the lead on what he wants to be called.”

  I knock on the door, but I barely get one percussion in before the door opens wide. I wish that I had thought to film this reunion. The total look of adoration on Mr. Roguen’s face is absolutely priceless. I know that Mama Rosa would have loved to see this.

  “Oh my God! You girls look just like your mother. You are beautiful. I don’t know why I was thinking that you would still be children. Clearly that’s not the case. You are lovely young women. My Rosie must be so proud of you,”

  He tentatively reaches out to shake their hands, but Ivy is the first to break the ice and envelops him in a warm hug. “It’s so nice to meet you. It’s funny, I was just thinking how much Rogue looks like you. You both have the same wonderful smile and twinkle in your eye.”

  Isaac does a bit of a double take as he says, “I guess that means you must be Ivy.”

  When Ivy nods, Isaac continues, “So, doesn’t it stand to reason that you look like me too?”

  Ivy’s light laughter fills the air. “I suppose you’re right. As odd as it may seem, I forget that Rogue and I are mirror images of each other because we’re so different. She just seems so much prettier and more sophisticated than I am, that I forget that people see us as being the same.”

  “Well, from this proud padre’s point of view, you are both gorgeous, stunning women.”

  Rogue has been standing back observing the interaction, but finally she speaks up, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

  Mr. Roguen looks contrite as he says, “I apologize. I was presumptuous; perhaps it’s too soon to refer to myself as a padre. You may call me whatever you wish.”

  I can feel Rogue start to tremble in my arms as she stands in front of me. I subtly place my arms around her waist from behind to let her know that I’m here for support if she needs me.

  “I think you’ve misunderstood my question,” Rogue clarifies as she wipes away a tear with her thumb. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to really call dad. When I
vy and I were little, we both had imaginary families and independently of each other, we both christened the father figures in our families as Padre Pop. I just find an amazing amount of irony there.”

  Isaac digs a cotton handkerchief from his back pocket and swipes tears from his eyes as he responds, “Some people might call it irony; other people might call it a miracle. There’s nothing more in this whole world that I ever wanted more than to be your padre.”

  Isaac holds his arms out wide as he collects both of his daughters in what is sure to be a lifetime of group hugs.

  THIS IS A VERY ODD SITUATION FOR me to be in. I’m part of the circle, yet strangely I feel very excluded. Usually, I make it a point to be the center of the action. Though, in this situation, it would be inappropriate for me to intrude. So, that’s how I’ve found myself sitting quietly holding Ivy in my arms in the lushly appointed oversized leather seats of Tristan’s private plane headed back to the East Coast. Ivy and Rogue are busy filling Isaac in on as much of their childhoods as they can remember. It’s been quite amusing to discover how many similar experiences they’ve had despite their different upbringings from the names of their hamsters to their best friends growing up. They even have the same taste in mundane things like the type of toothpaste they use.

  Once Isaac determined that Mama Rosa was alive and well, he expressed an interest in seeing her face to face. Although Rogue is a little more cautious, Ivy, ever the romantic, is completely in favor of the idea. I’m not sure which side I come down on. I have a hunch that Mama Rosa still has feelings for Isaac, but I also think that she may also be more than a little ticked off he’s been gone all these years. If I’m right, this could be an interesting reunion.