Bailey had heard of women giving birth when they didn’t realize they were pregnant. Could that have happened to her mom?
She rose and zipped up her jacket. “Thanks for your help. I’ll ask Kim if she knows who Mom was seeing.”
Weaver rose and came around from behind his desk to open his door. “If you leave me your card, I’ll contact you if I think of anything else.”
“I don’t have a card.”
“I do.” Lance took one out and handed it to the mayor. “Thanks for your help.”
Back out in the cold wind, she stopped and asked Lance, “You think the mayor has something to do with your sister’s disappearance?”
“I don’t know. Cambodia isn’t a popular vacation destination. I’ve been there many times because my mom is Khmer. I’m going to do some digging and see.”
She pulled out Kim’s number, then placed a call, but her mom’s friend didn’t know who her mother had been seeing then. Like Weaver, she claimed Olivia wasn’t pregnant.
It’s not like Bailey hatched under a mushroom. It was so peculiar she didn’t know what to make of it.
Lance didn’t have much to say as he drove Bailey home, but then she was lost in thought herself. She sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window. The whole investigation into her mom’s past felt like a dead end to him when he wanted to bring down the traffickers and find his sister, but Bailey had no one else to help her. He darted a glance her way. How had he come to care about her in such a short time?
He parked in the drive and started for the back of the house. “There’s still some daylight. I think I’ll work on that back deck awhile.”
Bailey swiveled toward the road and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Looks like we’ve got company. I’ll leave you to deal with him while I check on Lily.” She went to her car, then slid inside and drove off.
A swirl of dust blew behind a pickup heading this way. He lifted a hand and went to stand by the road as Daniel parked his truck and got out. It must be important or a phone call would have sufficed.
Daniel slammed the door shut and approached him. “We’ve got a few key bits of evidence back.” He shivered in the wind in his polo shirt. “Can we go inside? I forgot to grab my jacket.”
“Sure.” Lance strode to the front door and they stepped into the small cabin.
“This looks a lot different. Bailey has worked wonders in here.”
The wood on the floor and walls glowed with the dusting she’d given them after the techs left, and the kitchen appliances gleamed. Bailey had found a place for everything, and the tiny cabin felt bigger without all the clutter. Lance glanced at the loft and saw the boxes still in disarray. He had no doubt that space would be next.
They sat in the chairs by the fireplace. “So what’s up?”
Daniel’s gray eyes held compassion. “Stay steady, buddy. This is going to rock you.”
Lance inhaled. “One of the bodies was Ava?” Dizziness struck and bile marched up his throat. He was going to throw up or scream and bash the wall.
Daniel held up his hand. “No, no! But there were some fingerprints in the cellar on some of the items down there. Ava’s fingerprints.”
The wild thumping of Lance’s pulse settled. “But she’s not one of the victims?”
“She’s still alive, Lance. She was in that cellar two weeks ago.”
His pulse surged again. “Two weeks ago? The medical examiner dated the deaths. How do you know she was there two weeks ago?”
“Let’s take this one step at a time. We’ve got IDs back on both bodies. One girl was fifteen and one was sixteen.”
Alive. Ava was alive. Lance couldn’t process it. Against all hope, deep down he’d believed she was in a shallow grave somewhere or sold to some buyer overseas where she’d be better off dead.
“Cause of death?” His voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel, and he fought to keep his focus.
“Drowning, if you can believe it. The ME thinks the girls might have tried to escape overboard and drowned. The pimp would have retrieved the bodies to prevent them from being found and identified.”
“Makes sense.” The thought of those young girls fighting for their lives in the water, only to drown and be hauled back into the boat made his heart hurt.
But Ava. Where was she now? He guessed she was close by. If she was still in Washington after five years, he didn’t see the pimp moving her out of state. But he could be moving her to another country. International waters weren’t far, and smuggling people wouldn’t be any harder than smuggling drugs or guns. Residents in Lavender Tides had narrowly averted an EMP bomb a month ago. Lance had had a small hand in that as well.
“We’re still processing the contents of the cellar, but we did find something else, though it’s not a clue to her whereabouts.” Daniel reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a picture that he handed to Lance.
Before he reached for it, Lance could tell it was old and creased from frequent viewings. It was the size of a school picture, just a small snapshot. He looked down into his own face, a high school yearbook picture when he was a senior. “Ava,” he breathed. “This is hers. Where was it found?”
“Placed under a tin pail in the cellar. It had to be deliberate. I think it was a message to you, a way to tell you that she was alive. And look at the back. It’s dated October 31. She probably didn’t think about her fingerprints being in the cellar, so she was trying to reach you the only way she knew how. She’s had it all this time, and it probably hurt her to let go of it.”
Lance flipped the picture over and immediately recognized his sister’s handwriting with neat, large block letters. He turned the picture back around. He used to be idealistic with his chin up as if nothing could ever rock his world. But her disappearance had been a seismic convulsion that had shaken the foundations of everything he knew and believed. Until that moment he’d believed the world basically a good place, a safe place. He’d found out there were shadows everywhere, and it had propelled him into doing what he could to bring light into the darkness.
She’d tucked the picture in her wallet as soon as he gave it to her and had said something about showing off her hottie brother to her friends.
His baby sister. She was out there somewhere.
His chest squeezed and he rose to pace the floor. “I need to tell my parents.”
“Tell them to keep it quiet. We don’t want anything getting out about this. If it hits the news she might be punished.”
Lance winced. “I’ll make sure they understand. I can’t keep this from them, not when it’s the first ray of hope we’ve had.”
“No, I agree as long as they don’t blab it.” Daniel rose and slapped his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, buddy.”
Lance gritted his teeth. “I’m going to find her, and those animals will wish they’d never been born.”
Chapter 21
When Daniel left, Lance went out on the back deck and dropped into one of the weathered wooden Adirondack chairs. The wind carried the briny scent of ocean to his nose, and the breeze ran down his back in a bone-chilling touch.
Who to call first was like walking through a minefield. Better to have Dad’s complaints than Mom’s tearful recriminations. He called his mother’s number.
“Lance, what a nice surprise. You usually call on Sundays.”
“Well, I have news, Mom.” The lilt in his voice came in spite of his effort to sound dispassionate. It was impossible to hide his hope and joy. “I know for sure Ava is alive.”
She gasped and choked out a sob. “Oh, Lance, you’ve seen her?”
“No, but we found her fingerprints at a cabin. And she left that old school picture of me as a senior in high school and dated the back two weeks ago. The picture was hidden, and I think she left it to me as a sign.”
The only answer was a soft sobbing sound. He waited patiently for his mom to gather herself. There would be more questions. There were always mo
re. He watched an eagle soar to a nearby alder tree and perch to watch him with beady golden eyes. Around him the woods were alive. The sounds of animals and birds going about the business of living was a reminder to him that hope existed even when he couldn’t see it.
He would find Ava. He had to.
His mother’s sobs tapered off. “Have you told your father?” Her voice held an edge.
“Not yet. I called you first.”
“Thank you.” The roughness in her voice smoothed out. “What’s next?”
“Next we find out who was in the shed. We’re combing through all the fingerprints hoping for a lead to who she was with.”
“I just can’t believe it. Hope after all this time!”
“I know. It’s pretty amazing. I have to admit I didn’t think I’d ever find her. And I still haven’t,” he hastened to add. “But I will. And you can’t tell anyone. Not anyone, Mom. If what she did gets out, she might be hurt. Or worse.”
“I won’t say anything.”
He chatted a few more minutes with his mother and promised to call the moment he had any more information, then ended the call. Now to contact Dad.
The phone rang so many times he thought he might get his father’s voice mail, but his dad picked up. “Lance? What’s up?”
“News, Dad.”
He launched into the find in the shed cellar, this time leaving nothing out. His father was a former Seattle cop, and he understood the details Lance couldn’t tell his mother.
“They drowned, you say? Rather an odd way to dispose of drowned bodies. Why didn’t they sink them in the strait?”
“I’d guess they had nothing to use to weight them down, so they stuck them in the cellar and planned to come back for them. Or maybe they were just offshore and knew the place was unoccupied. Maybe they’d seen the cellar and didn’t think it would be disturbed. We don’t really know yet.”
“Ava’s a smart girl to leave that picture. If she’s held on to it all this time, it was probably difficult for her to part with it.”
“I thought that too. This might have been the first chance she had to leave a clue somewhere she hoped it would be found. Or maybe it’s the only time she’s been out of the brothel.”
He didn’t even like saying the word brothel. It hurt to think of what his sister was going through, but once they found her, they’d work on helping her get past the pain and degradation.
“You’d better call your mother.”
For a moment he was tempted to say okay and hang up, but his dad would probably hear about it. “I did already.”
“Of course you did. Mama’s boy.” His dad’s voice shook with disgust. “I told you to call me the minute you had any news.”
“And I did. I just called Mom first. She’s hurting too. Look, Dad, now that we’re on the brink of finding Ava, the two of you need to mend your relationship. I’m not talking about getting back together, but just being civil.”
“There’s no way I can talk to that woman. She’s seeing another man, did she tell you that? Some mother she is. Moving on with her life when her baby girl is out there somewhere crying for her parents.”
Dad’s obsession was what had split the marriage apart. He’d blamed Mom and she’d blamed him. In typical law enforcement behavior, he’d thrown himself into following every lead, knocking on every door. He’d arrive home after midnight, exhausted and angry at himself for his failure. It hadn’t been pretty.
Luckily, Lance had been away at college and had missed most of the drama. His first clue something was badly wrong was when his mother showed up in his dorm room. She was crying and nearly hysterical. He’d taken her to a motel and sat with her all night while she poured out a bitter laundry list of affronts against his dad.
He loved them both and being in the middle hurt.
“You need to have a life, too, Dad. It’s been five years. What did you expect Mom to do? Waste away to nothing in the house? There was never any guarantee we’d find Ava, and you know that as well as I do.”
“She needs to be there for Ava.”
“And she will be, whether she’s dating again or not. She’ll drop everything to be with Ava. You have to know that.”
So the base of all this was jealousy. That explained a lot about how the angry rhetoric had increased in recent months. He wanted to ask when Mom’s relationship had started, but he didn’t want to rub salt in his dad’s wounds.
“You still love her, Dad. Why sit back and let another man have her? Go after her.”
When his dad didn’t answer, Lance looked at the screen. Dad had hung up on him.
Lily was outside when Bailey reached her house. She hadn’t expected to find Lily digging in the garden wearing only a lightweight pink silk nightie. Especially not in this wind. Bailey parked in the overgrown driveway and jumped out.
“Lily, what are you doing?” Bailey touched her and found Lily’s skin like ice and her lips blue. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up.”
Lily continued to dig through the dirt. “I was looking for my house keys. I know I put them somewhere.”
Bailey lifted her to her feet and guided her toward the open door. “I don’t think you planted them. I’ll help you search. Let’s make some nice, hot tea and get you into warmer clothing.”
The interior was still a mess, and Bailey knew it wasn’t going to change unless she cleaned it herself. Life had been coming at her from every direction, and there hadn’t been time. But she would have to make time.
A pair of sweatpants and shirt lay draped over a chair, and Bailey grabbed them. “Let’s get these on you.” She helped Lily dress in warm clothes, then hurried to the kitchen to make tea.
Lily’s teeth clinked together as she followed Bailey to the stove. “I like the Earl Grey. I have a tin of it.” Her blue eyes were clear and lucid again.
“I’ll have some with you. Have you eaten anything today?”
“Eaten?” Lily blinked, then looked down at the floor.
“I’ll fix you some eggs and toast.” She knew Lily had some eggs, bread, and a few other items because she’d brought them herself.
She found a clean skillet and fried up some eggs, then fixed toast with slabs of butter. Lily licked the butter off the toast before she ate the rest of the food. Bailey sat beside her at the table and watched her dip her toast into the soft centers of the yolk, then gobble it down. Lily took dainty sips of the tea and gave an appreciative sigh on occasion.
The food was gone in minutes, and Bailey took the plate back to the sink. “I can make you more.”
“That’s enough, my dear Bailey. It was quite good.”
She turned at the calm note in Lily’s voice. She’d called her by name too. Should she tell her who she really was? It had been such a shock to see the pictures that Bailey hadn’t been able to form the words to explain herself. She’d wanted to do it when Lily seemed to be herself. The clouds had scattered in her eyes, and she looked placidly back at Bailey.
Bailey went back to the table and sat by her, then took her hand. “I want to tell you a secret, Lily. Do you like secrets?”
“Oh my, yes. I’m very good at keeping them too. I never told anyone about the body buried in the yard. You can tell me anything you want and I won’t tell anyone.”
Body? Bailey needed to talk to her before more clouds rolled in. Lily’s hand was birdlike, the bones small and crushable in Bailey’s bigger hand. “When’s your birthday, Lily?”
Lily’s white hair stood on end from the wind, and she seemed even smaller and frailer in the sweats. She smiled and squeezed Bailey’s hand. “That’s not a secret, honey. It’s February 29. I only have a birthday every four years. Guess how old I am.” Her smile was as wide and delighted as a child’s.
“Are you thirty?”
Lily giggled. “Wrong. I’m eighty.”
Eighty. How was she living on her own all this time? And what was Bailey going to do about it?
Lily leaned forward. “I know the se
cret.”
“You do? What is it?”
Lily’s gaze wandered to the window and out to the trees blowing in the wind. “I met a rock star. He said he’s my daughter’s friend. I didn’t like him much. Devil’s spawn. Curse of Cain.”
Bailey set her cup back on the table. “Do you know his name?”
Lily stared over Bailey’s shoulder out the window. “Roger said he’d take care of those pesky squirrels, and they’re still out there.” She rose and went toward the stairs. “Roger! Get down here right now and take care of those squirrels before they destroy my garden.”
Bailey saw no squirrels and no garden. Lily was lost in the clouds again, so she couldn’t be left here alone. She’d have to come home with Bailey to Cedar Cabin.
A rock star. Could it be Kyle? And why would she say Kyle was a friend of her daughter’s? Mom didn’t know him all that well, only through Bailey’s relationship with him.
Or was this more of Mom’s secrets coming out?
Chapter 22
King stood at his office window looking at the leaves rolling in the wind. Bailey Fleming still hadn’t turned up, and he would have bet half his bank account his men would have found her by now. They’d disappointed him. Alfie had disappointed him, too, by targeting the wrong girl. King had made sure he paid for it though.
A knock came at the door. “Enter,” he called.
Chey entered as noiselessly as always, his fine leather shoes making not a sound. “Sir, I have some unsettling news.”
Chey rarely used the word unsettling and the fact he did so now made King go to his desk and sit down. “Tell me.”
“The bodies were found. The girls we disposed of temporarily in the cellar are in the custody of the FBI.”
He cursed and leaped to his feet, then picked up a paperweight and threw it against the wall, where it dented the drywall, then fell to the floor in pieces. “I told you not to leave them there long. They should have been disposed of a day or two later. It’s been two weeks.”
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