Serves you right for meddling, Lauren’s voice rings clear in her head. I warned you. Stay away from this.
God, now she is hearing voices. She needs sleep. She needs to take three weeks off, find a warm beach somewhere, drink fruity drinks and crisp herself in the equatorial sun, but this isn’t an option. Mindy isn’t resting; she is getting sicker and sicker. And if Lauren won’t do the right thing, damn it, Juliet will figure out a way.
She googles Kyle Noonan again, adding Spencer Landry and San Diego in the search box.
She finds nothing. But this isn’t unusual. She’s searching for information from seventeen years ago. Not everything was as plugged in then as it is now. Not every thought, word, and deed that happened every moment of every day made it onto the web back then.
Maybe she needs to do this the modern way. Social media holds all truths. She can troll Facebook for a while, see if anything pops. Lauren doesn’t have an account, but maybe Kyle does.
Like all CBI employees, she has a public server and a private server—the private clearly marked so they can exchange sensitive information and case-specific files without worrying about external hacking. The government has no quibble with her going online during work hours, but they frown on mixing the outside world with their internal confidential information. She opens her personal server and pulls up Facebook, logs in under a false name she often uses to look at people’s private accounts. It wouldn’t do to have her real name out there. Hi, I’m with the CBI, wanna be friends? doesn’t always go over well.
Once she’s become Jessica Baker—busty and icy blonde, exactly Juliet’s opposite—she searches Kyle’s name.
She scrolls through several Kyle Noonans, frustrated that none look familiar. But there is an entry for the Douglas County High School Alumni Group. Perfect. His high school is a great jumping off point.
It is an open group, meaning all she has to do is join and then she becomes a part of the page. No one has to approve her. A stroke of luck. Closed groups are harder to infiltrate. Not impossible, but harder.
She searches through the page a bit, doesn’t see him listed. Undeterred, she reads through the page, gets a sense for the language and approach people use when trying to hook up with their long-lost friends, then posts a status update.
JESSICA BAKER: Hey ’87! What’s up? I’m looking for Kyle Noonan. Anyone got the 411 on him?
She feels like an idiot, but it is her only shot.
She stretches again, refills her coffee mug, and sits back down only to see she’s already gotten an answer.
MO CABOT: Hey, weren’t you in Mr. Williamson’s science class? I totally remember you. Looking good!
Oh, no. Has she picked the name of someone already in the group? She does a quick Control-F and searches the name Jessica Baker, finds nothing. Eight Jessicas but no Baker. Two of the Jessicas can be mistaken for her, and since it’s so many years later...married name...
Before she can respond, a few more people pop onto the thread.
OSCAR FIELDING: Hey, Jess, welcome. Noonan, haven’t heard his name in a while. I thought he moved overseas or something. Haven’t seen him around here. What are you up to now?
WILL LINDSY: Hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I think Noonan is no longer with us. I remember hearing something about a diving accident years ago.
CAROL CHILDS: That wasn’t Noonan, that was Robert Sanford. Remember?
WILL LINDSY: No, you’re not remembering correctly. Sanford got caught in an avalanche somewhere in the Alps. Remember he was always talking about summiting K2? He died on a climb.
ELIZABETH FLYNN: Man, we’ve lost a lot of friends over the years.
OSCAR FIELDING: I just did a search of the archives we posted in the group section and found this from 2000.
Sad to report the news that Kyle Noonan, class of ’87, died in a scuba accident off the coast of Baja, Mexico. He will be remembered fondly by all who knew him.
Juliet is floored. Kyle, dead? Why hadn’t Lauren told her?
15
Juliet types in another question.
JESSICA BAKER: Who reported that? Do you know?
ELIZABETH FLYNN: I don’t remember you, Jessica. What class were you in again?
JESSICA BAKER: ’87, but I moved right at the beginning of sophomore year. I was going through my yearbook and saw Kyle’s name. I hadn’t talked to him in a long time and wanted to say hi. I can’t believe he’s gone.
ELIZABETH FLYNN: Oh. Yes, it’s very sad.
OSCAR FIELDING: I can’t find who posted this, but I’m sure you’ll be able to Google his obit or something. So where’d you move when you left?
JESSICA BAKER: California. Very different from home. Gotta go, my lunch is over. Thanks for the info you guys. Go Huskies!
She closes the page and sighs. If it’s true, this is terrible news—she doesn’t feel so bad about the loss of Kyle, he was a boozy, arrogant jerk—but the chance to prove to Lauren once and for all Mindy was switched at birth is gone.
She needs confirmation, so moves on to the Mexican newspapers and does a character search for the names Kyle, Noonan, American, drowning, and scuba.
While she finds plenty of entries that match the American, drowning, and scuba entries, they all scratch out the name Kyle Noonan.
Okay, Juliet, think this through.
Kyle Noonan disappeared off the radar in 2000. A snippet on an alumni board claims he’s died. Maybe he’s changed his name. Which isn’t out of bounds, he was a jerk and hadn’t wanted Mindy anyway. A new identity would be a good ruse to avoid paying child support to Lauren.
“What a dick,” she says to herself.
Bai stops a foot from her desk. “I’ll just...go away then.”
“No, no, no, come here. I need you.”
“I need you, too. We got a match on the Crusie case. They want you in the conference room to go over the DNA with the investigators.”
Juliet tucks her hair behind her ears and stands. “Right. While I’m gone, can you do me a favor? Look into a guy named Kyle Noonan. He used to live here in Denver, moved to San Diego circa 2000, and I have an unsubstantiated report he died in Baja, Mexico. He was a lawyer with Spencer Landry. Be discreet, okay?”
“You mean don’t tell anyone what I’m doing?”
“Yes. I mean that exactly.”
Bai gives her a crooked smile. “I always love it when you rebel, Juliet.”
She pulls the Crusie file off her stack. “Yes, well, let’s not get fired over this, okay?”
* * *
Two hours later, on total meeting fatigue, Juliet staggers back to her office. Bai is gone for the day but has left a note on her desk, folded in thirds, with TOP SECRET written on it in his perfect architectural-plan block lettering.
Mighty subtle there, buddy.
She opens the note.
You know the weirdest people. See your personal email for info.
She practically throws herself at the desk. As she did when she went on Facebook, she switches to her personal server and opens her email. There is a note from Bai.
Looks like your dude is dead. All I could find was this. Sorry. Hope the meeting went well. See you in the morning.
Attached is another obituary report, this time a small news article from the Denver Post. It is dated August 31, 2000. For some reason, she hadn’t been able to find it in her searches.
Kyle Noonan, 32, a Highlands Ranch, Colorado, native, was killed last week in a diving accident off the coast of Baja, Mexico. Noonan, a member of the Colorado and California Bar, was an associate at Spencer Landry in San Diego at the time of his death. Noonan was known for his blustery court appearances. As a public defender, he had a record number of cases seen in the Arapahoe County court system. He went to Douglas County High School in Castle Rock and was briefly married to local artist Lau
ren Ryder. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to Noonan’s
favorite charity.
There is no byline, which means this could have been written by a family member. She wracks her brain, thinking about Kyle’s family. He was an only child, and there was a great-aunt. Juliet remembers Lauren being excited they’d gotten some money when the woman passed away.
She sinks back into the chair. At some point, she is going to have to admit this is a dead end.
Still, she can’t believe Lauren has never seen fit to tell her Kyle is dead. She’s going to have to ask her about it, but at this moment, she is too tired to do anything but go home and crash. No matter what, Kyle is not going to be Mindy’s savior.
She calls her niece’s cell phone but gets voice mail. She debates trying Lauren but decides against it. Lauren will just ignore her anyway. When Lauren gets angry like this, it could be days before she’ll cool off enough to answer a call. Juliet will have to wait until the weekend, when she goes back to Vail, and talk to her then. In person.
Switched at birth.
So where is her real niece?
She has no choice. If they can find Mindy’s birth parents, there will be a better chance of saving her life. She must talk to someone about this, even if it costs her Lauren and Mindy. Mindy’s life is worth more.
Juliet knows there is only one way to investigate without anyone knowing. She picks up her phone and calls Cameron.
“Two calls in a week? Whatever have I done now?”
“I need your help. Some advice. I have a problem.”
“Want to meet for a drink and talk about it?”
“Can I come to your office instead? I need...privacy.”
His tone changes. He must hear the worry in hers. “I’m here. I’ll wait for you. Buzz when you’re at the door.”
“Thanks, Cam.”
16
Juliet navigates the streets carefully. The gentle snow from this afternoon is driving hard now. What normally takes five minutes is instead a white-knuckled thirty, the truck slipping and sliding all the way despite her excellent four-wheel drive and snow tires.
Shaking the snow out of her hair, she buzzes, and the door obligingly buzzes back. At the click of the lock, she enters. Cameron’s offices are clean and bright: floor-to-ceiling windows in the reception area, the lab itself spotless, stainless and white machines gleaming. He runs a clean shop. She trusts him implicitly.
He meets her in the hall. Cameron is a handsome man, of this there is no doubt. A solid six feet tall, hair prematurely gray, he has a black goatee, always wears black turtlenecks, a gray half-zip, faded jeans and black high-top Converse—his uniform. Tonight he’s wearing his glasses instead of contacts, and she has to admit, he looks good. A handsome nerd. He was born in London but has lived in Colorado since he was ten. He still has some British phrases and the slightest accent on some words, which makes him sound mysterious and interesting. Women flirt with him constantly.
In another life, she might even think he’d be a good match for her. But something has always held her back, though Cameron has made it very clear he’d be more than happy to take things further. That something is his prodigious mind. She would hate to lose him because he is one of the most challenging, intelligent, interesting people she’s ever met. His intellect, and his biting sarcasm, aren’t for the weak of heart. She adores that about him.
“Come on, then. Let’s get you something hot to drink, and you can tell Uncle Cameron what’s wrong.”
“Uncle Cameron? Creepy, dude.”
He throws a rakish grin over his shoulder, and she laughs.
In his office, he hands her a cup of tea, then leans on his desk, arms crossed.
“It’s my sister. She told me that the labs are wrong. We both know that’s not the case. And I think Lauren is hiding something. I mean, wouldn’t you want to know why the test results don’t match? There’s only one logical conclusion, right?”
“That the baby isn’t hers? That it looks like Mindy was switched at birth?”
“Yes. And since the baby is someone else’s, that would mean Lauren’s real child is living with strangers. And if that’s the case, the biological family could be a transplant match. There could be siblings.”
“This is juicy. Do go on.”
“Don’t make fun. I’m serious. I want to open an investigation.”
“So do it.”
“Lauren practically begged me not to, then shoved me out the door, insisting I’m crazy as she did. But, Cameron, blood doesn’t lie.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Cameron takes a sip of tea, and she senses there is more coming.
“But?”
“Juliet, your sister is going through a horrible trauma. Her wunderkind is sick, and her sister is telling her that the child she’s loved, raised, trained to be an elite athlete is not hers. I might not react well to the situation, either.”
“Which is all fine, except Mindy needs a stem cell transplant, STAT. We have to put aside our feelings.”
“Let them take her out onto the donor database.”
“Well, they are. But in the meantime...”
“Oh. You don’t need my permission to tell your bosses if that’s what you’re thinking. I will release the information if there’s an investigation, no problem. I’ll tell them I ran the samples twice just to be sure, because of Mindy’s stature. Since a subpoena will show we did just that.”
She doesn’t say anything. She can feel Cameron watching her. Finally, he sets down his tea.
“What’s wrong, Juliet? Why are you here?”
She takes a deep breath, blows it out hard. “I’m only wondering... There is a way to investigate this without going the official route.”
Cameron pulls off his glasses, scratches the side of his nose. “Ah.”
“Yes, ah.”
He puts the glasses back on. “I’m surprised at you, Juliet. It goes against everything you believe in. You know the consequences if we do that and we’re found out. Every case you’ve ever worked could be reopened. Criminals you’ve put behind bars could have their verdicts vacated, be granted new trials, and justice might not be served the second time around. Plus, you’ll get fired, be in disgrace, and be forced to live out your days eating potted meat sandwiches. Isn’t it easier to have it out with your sister than risk your career? If that’s not enough to freak you out, the idea of perpetually stale bread and mystery meat should scare the bejesus out of you. Not to mention the fact I could lose the lab.”
“Cam, I know the consequences. But something about this feels all wrong to me. If it were me, I’d be banging down the hospital’s doors, threatening a lawsuit if they don’t explain how my kid went home with someone else.”
“But it’s not you. Lauren is trying to protect Mindy. Can you imagine how that girl’s going to feel when the truth comes out, that she’s not Lauren and Jasper’s kid?”
“Only part of that is relevant. She’s actually not Jasper’s kid.”
“What?”
“Lauren’s first husband left when she got pregnant. She met Jasper when Mindy was a newborn, only a few weeks old. Mindy doesn’t know that, either.”
“Where’s the ex?”
“Dead. Diving accident in Mexico.”
She slumps in her chair.
Cameron kneels next to her. “Juliet, I understand why you want to do this. But if you’re found out, you lose everything. How do you explain a sudden genetic match? If you come blazing in with a solution to a problem that has only one answer, you’re going to come under scrutiny. You don’t need your sister’s permission to open an investigation. You’re CBI. Woody will be discreet, I’m sure, under the circumstances. You can search to your heart’s content if this is official. Make your fun little 3-D images of possible family members, maybe even get some press for your new tech
niques. No disgrace, or potted meat, in sight.”
She knows he’s right. “Of course we have to do this by the book. I’m not going to risk everything for Lauren. God knows she wouldn’t do that for me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Forget I came by, all right? I’m embarrassed to have even brought it up.”
He smiles. “Come now. You love your sister and your niece, and you don’t want to cause them any more pain. I admire you, Juliet. You love deeply, and you’re loyal, and that’s rare nowadays. If there’s anything I can do, you let me know. I’m always willing and able. How about some dinner? Steak?”
“Rain check, Cam? I need to talk to Lauren before I talk to Woody.”
* * *
Juliet calls Lauren when she gets home and is surprised when Lauren answers.
“It’s late, Juliet. What’s wrong?”
“I wanted you to know I’m going to talk to my boss tomorrow. We need to find out what happened to your biological child. I will be discreet, and we will do everything we can to keep names out of the record. I’m going to label Mindy as a Jane Doe. It will be safe, I swear it.”
“What? What are you talking about? You’re opening a case with the CBI?”
“I am. We need—”
“No, no, no. Absolutely not.”
“Lauren. Listen to me—”
The vitriol in her sister’s voice astounds Juliet. “You listen to me, little sister. If you do this, I will never speak to you again. Ever. And I will make sure Mindy doesn’t see you. I will cut you from our lives.”
“You’re overreacting, Lauren. Then again, I don’t know why I’m surprised. You didn’t even tell me Kyle was dead.”
Lauren doesn’t miss a beat. “His death is hardly relevant.”
“You don’t know that. We could have tested him...my God, Lauren, don’t you want to know where your real daughter is?”
Lauren starts to cry, softly. “Please, I’m begging you, leave this alone.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry. A law has been broken, and I am a law enforcement officer.”
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