by Chris Taylor
Morgan’s heart skipped a beat. After all, what did she really know about her father’s twin? “Did it come up with anything?”
“Yes, but nothing important. A minor assault more than a decade ago. It was dealt with by way of a fine. Like I said, it was nothing.”
“Oh, I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Yes, but I must admit, I was expecting more. There’s something about him… I’ve been a cop a long time. You get a sense of people… This time, it didn’t pan out.”
Something caught in Morgan’s memory. She frowned. “What name did you use?”
Colt turned to face her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you put his details into the system, what name did you use?”
“Leslie O’Brien. I guessed him to be somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties. It helped to eliminate a few others.”
She pursed her lips. “He’s fifty-five, actually, the same age as my father. But his name’s not Leslie O’Brien. At least, it didn’t used to be. He told me he recently changed it. He used to be Leslie Lexington.”
Colt’s eyes narrowed and she could almost see the thoughts running through his head. Leslie Lexington might very well have the criminal background he sensed. The thought sobered her.
Still, it didn’t change the fact he was her uncle and the identical twin brother of her dad. Though shocked at the discovery, her father’s email had reassured her he was happy to have Leslie in his life. It didn’t sound like he had any reservations, especially not the kind Colt had. Unless the emails hadn’t come from her dad…
“What are you going to do?” she murmured.
“I’m going to run another criminal history check. I want to be certain this guy is who he says he is.”
“Of course he’s who he says he is. He looks just like my dad! Nobody could fake that, not for all the plastic surgery in the world and he doesn’t look like someone who could afford surgery. Besides, why would he pretend to be someone he isn’t? Dad might be comfortable in his retirement, but he’s not a millionaire. You’d think if Leslie was targeting someone, he’d make sure it was worth his while.”
Colt looked thoughtful. “Yes, you’re right. Still, I’m going to follow it up, if for no other reason than to reassure myself that I can still rely on my gut.”
All of a sudden she was tired of Colt’s conspiracy theories. A surge of impatience rushed through her. Leslie Lexington was her uncle. There was no denying it. She pushed away from the couch.
“And what if you do find something?” she cried. “What difference does it make? It won’t change the fact he’s my father’s brother, the only other blood relative I have.”
Colt regarded her steadily, his expression remaining calm. “You’re right. It won’t make any difference to that, but I’m a cop. I need to know the truth. I need to know if someone’s hiding something because the next question will be why. Nobody does anything in isolation. There’s always a cause and effect. For every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction. Basic physics, right?”
His grin pulled up the sides of his mouth, but failed to reach his eyes. Morgan stared at him, unconvinced, her lips set in a mutinous line. And then, just as suddenly as it had erupted, the anger went out of her. What did it matter if Colt poked around a little? He was a cop. It was what he did. She didn’t really have a problem with that.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly and regained her place beside him on the couch. “I didn’t mean to shout at you. I’m just anxious about Dad. This whole thing is weirding me out – no birthday or anniversary call, a twin brother I never knew he had, and now Rusty… I need Dad to call me, or at the least, email me back.”
Colt held her gaze. “I get it, Morgan. I do. And I wish there was some way I could help. You said last night he was at Tennant Creek. I could call the local police station and ask them to take a look around. If he’s still there, they might be able to find him and tell him to give you a call. Do you know what kind of vehicle he’s driving?”
Morgan was filled with a surge of hope. “Yes, of course! A white Ford Ranger. A 2015 model.”
Colt nodded. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. It’s a fairly common kind of pickup, but you never know. He’s traveling on his own. In the outback, most people don’t – especially not tourists. That kind of thing stands out. Someone might have noticed.”
Morgan could barely contain her excitement. She grabbed hold of Colt’s hand. “Do you think so? Do you think the police might be able to find my dad?”
She watched Colt stare down at the place where their hands touched and all of a sudden, she was filled with a rush of warmth. Awareness shot through her and just like that, tension filled the air. Their earlier embrace came rushing back and her heart thumped double time.
His cologne, fresh and clean and woodsy, filled her nostrils. He must have showered before he left work. A pulse fluttered in his neck. The blue of his irises darkened to almost black. Her lips parted on the tiniest breath and heat flared in his eyes. She leaned forward, trance-like, and touched her mouth to his.
He tasted cold and yeasty, with a splash of spaghetti sauce thrown in. The five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin tickled her skin. She kissed him again, softly, curiously, needing more. And then it was over.
He pulled away and turned aside and it was like he’d doused her in a barrel of ice water. She gasped and tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks burned like they were on fire. She’d kissed him in a wordless promise that offered everything and more and he’d turned her down. Again. Did it get any more humiliating?
“I’m sorry, Morgan. It’s me, not you.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed in an effort to hide her embarrassment. “Don’t give me that lame old line.”
His gaze was filled with turmoil. A spurt of satisfaction went through her. At least he felt something.
“It’s true,” he said quietly, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “We want different things, Morgan. You want a husband, a family. You’re ready to settle down. I don’t know that I’ll ever be in that place. And after today, after witnessing the horror of just how wrong marriages can go, I’m even more certain I don’t ever want to go down that path.”
Morgan shook her head, aghast at the thought. “You can’t possibly think you could drown your children, just because your marriage fell apart? You’re nothing like that man! You’re good and kind and—”
“How do you know?” he interrupted, his voice harsh with emotion. “When they were in love, before they had those kids, could she have seen his weakness? Was it even there then, or did they change? How do any of us know what we’re capable of?”
She stared at him and her heart filled with sadness and regret. The awful events of the day were still too fresh. This wasn’t the time to reason with him. She got that. Swallowing a sigh, she got to her feet.
In silence, she collected the dirty dishes and headed for the kitchen.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Colt stared at the blank computer screen in front of him and cursed under his breath. For the past hour, he’d been trying to complete the paperwork on Anthony Adamson’s arrest. The man had been brought before the courts earlier that morning.
Given the circumstances of his arrest, most people assumed he’d be on suicide watch, but according to the corrections officers the prisoner was behaving normally and so far, his behavior behind bars hadn’t raised any concerns. Adamson had been refused bail and for that, Colt was grateful. It meant that the hordes of media camped outside the police station could finally disperse. They wouldn’t be getting camera shots or a sound bite from Adamson anytime soon.
Unbidden, Colt’s thoughts turned to Morgan and her certainty the night before that a nasty divorce could never result in him murdering his children. He’d done some digging on Adamson’s background. The man was employed in middle management in a local insurance broker’s firm. He was liked and respected by his peers. In the ten years he’d worked there, no one ha
d ever heard him raise his voice. Every person Colt spoke to expressed shock and disbelief that their friend and coworker could have done such a thing.
And yet, he had.
Whether it was the stress from his marriage breakdown, or something else, this normally calm and mild-mannered executive snapped and in that instant, made the fatal decision to drown his children. The horror and sadness of it was overwhelming, but despite Morgan’s assurances, it was like Colt had said: How could anyone know how they’d react if placed in similar circumstances?
He wanted to shake his head in adamant denial. There was no way he could contemplate such a thing. Children were the innocent victims when a marriage fell apart. They weren’t pawns to be bargained for, or worse, stolen from the other parent.
Colt understood how excruciating it might be for a man to love his children so deeply and have to come to terms with the fact a court decided they were best off with his estranged wife, especially if he no longer thought she was the best person to raise them, or worse, that she was vindictive and malicious enough to turn them against him.
That was Adamson’s argument. He told Colt his wife had already spread lies about him to his kids. ‘They were only babies! Too young to know wrong from right! Too young to be able to separate her lies from the truth.’ He’d believed he’d lose them anyway, and just as surely as if they’d died. In fact, he claimed they’d be better off dead than be filled with the poisonous words issued by his ex.
Adamson’s explanation only made Colt feel even more sad and depressed. There were no winners here. Not Adamson, not his ex and certainly not their kids. The whole tragic scenario only reinforced his opinion that when a marriage went off the rails, it left everyone devastated.
He wasn’t obtuse enough to accept that all marriages ended in divorce, but the stats were there for all to see and they were damning. He was sure not a single one of his buddies who’d gone through a broken marriage had, on the day they stood before the altar with their bride, thought things might end that way. And yet they did. Over and over again. He didn’t know why and that was just as frightening. He couldn’t avoid the same pitfalls if he didn’t understand what caused things to fall apart.
He wished he weren’t so jaded. With all his heart, he wished that things were different. That he could look to a future filled with love and laughter with the girl he’d chosen for his wife, like his mom and dad and so many other couples of that generation.
What was it about those people? What did they have that younger generations didn’t – that allowed them to stick things out and make their marriages work? He thought of beautiful, sweet Morgan and the kisses they’d shared and wished he knew.
He left for work early that morning, before she surfaced from her room. He hadn’t spoken to her since the night before. He thought she’d appreciate his forthrightness, but she hadn’t seen it that way. She’d stacked the dirty bowls and utensils in the dishwasher in silence and with a muttered goodnight tossed in his general direction, had headed off for bed.
With a sigh, Colt pulled the keyboard toward him and signed into the police database. As much as he wanted to push thoughts of Morgan O’Brien out of his mind, the whole situation with her uncle still intrigued him. He’d been surprised and disappointed to discover the man had nothing much on his record. Now, knowing he’d changed his name a short time ago, the game had completely changed. Right from the outset, his cop radar had sensed there was much more to Leslie O’Brien – aka Leslie Lexington – than met the eye. It was time to prove himself right.
Typing in the name Leslie Lexington, Colt waited, a little on edge. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. Only two Leslie Lexingtons were in the system and one of them was a woman. The other one fit O’Brien’s profile – height and weight and date of birth all checked out. Better still, there were several mug shots, taken over the course of Lexington’s life. It was obvious Colt had found the right one.
The first photo was taken when Lexington was just fourteen. Though crimes committed when the offender was a child couldn’t be used against them as an adult, the records remained on the database for any investigator to see. From the string of entries under Lexington’s name, it was clear he’d started on his life of crime at an early age.
The adult offenses were just as lengthy. Most of them were for theft, break and enter and assaults. There were only minor drug convictions recorded, which was a little surprising considering there were at least two dozen different addresses listed in Lexington’s profile. Every time he was charged, he’d been residing somewhere new. In Colt’s experience, that kind of transient lifestyle often indicated drug abuse. Often, drugs took over, to the exclusion of everything else. Rents went unpaid, tenants were evicted and the whole sorry situation repeated itself over and over again.
But Lexington didn’t appear to have a drug problem, so it was something else that had caused his transient lifestyle. Colt studied the information on his screen a little more closely and all of a sudden, he was pretty sure he knew what it was.
Among the assaults and break and enters, he found a number of fraud offenses. Nothing too serious – most had only resulted in jail terms of six or twelve months. But each time a fraud offense occurred, Lexington offered a new address. Colt guessed if the man were stealing from an employer or a friend or colleague, upon its discovery, he’d be forced to relocate.
Pursing his lips together, Colt contemplated his discovery. It gave him a certain grim kind of satisfaction to discover his instincts had been right. Leslie Lexington was a career criminal who’d been in trouble with the law from an early age. Now Colt was faced with the issue of whether or not to tell Morgan, and if so, how much to tell.
The night before, when he’d raised the issue that her uncle might not be all that he seemed, she hadn’t reacted favorably. It was obvious she was a little sensitive about her family, especially – as she’d quite rightly pointed out – there was no way Leslie wasn’t her father’s twin.
Still, the extensive criminal history that stared back at him wasn’t something he could easily dismiss. The man probably wasn’t dangerous, despite the handful of assaults, but there was no denying he was dishonest and frequently willing to break the law. Not exactly the kind of man most people wanted to spend time with, or allow to get too close. It made him uncomfortable thinking Morgan might very well want to do that.
As far as she was concerned, the guy was her long lost uncle – the prodigal brother returned. Even her father had encouraged her to think of her uncle that way. Colt couldn’t help but wonder if Rex O’Brien knew anything about his brother’s shady past. Surely not, or he wouldn’t have been so quick to encourage his daughter to accept her uncle into her life.
And now he’d apparently gone off on some trip to find himself, or at least to contemplate his life, and his daughter had been left to sort things out on her own, including how she felt about her new uncle.
No, Colt sensed it was up to him to help her navigate the murky waters that were Leslie O’Brien. Morgan needed to know there was more and possibly less to the man than met the eye and she needed to be on her guard, even a little. With his mind made up, he tugged out his cell and dialed her number. He was relieved when she answered after only a couple of rings.
“Colt, how are you doing? How is the day treating you?”
She sounded her normal cheery self and Colt was filled with relief. After the way they’d parted the night before, he wasn’t sure what mood he’d find her in, but it was as if the morning had brought with it a clean slate. She didn’t sound like she harbored any ill will.
“I’m doing fine, thanks. Tying up loose ends with the Adamson case and seeing to a few odds and ends. What about you?”
“I was just thinking about going to see my uncle again. I still haven’t heard from Dad. I thought I might take the opportunity to get to know him a little better, while I can. I won’t be able to hang around forever – I only took a fortnight’s leave. I emailed Dad and told him I wa
s on vacation and I’m hoping that news might bring him home sooner than he originally planned – if he had any plan.”
Colt compressed his lips, wishing he had better news. He’d contacted the local Tennant Creek police as promised and they’d driven around the town. They’d made some inquiries at the local caravan parks and the few motels in town, but nobody fit Rex’s description and no one remembered seeing him the night before. They’d hit a dead end. He told Morgan as much and listened to her disheartened sigh.
“Why won’t he call me? Or at the very least, answer my emails?” she asked with a little catch in her voice.
Colt grimaced and wondered if now was a good time to tell her about her uncle. He wasn’t sure if she could handle any more bad news. Still, she was heading over to see the man. It would be best if she knew the truth.
“I’m afraid I have something else to tell you that you’re not going to like,” he said.
Her voice grew wary. “What are you talking about?”
“It isn’t about your dad. It’s…Leslie O’Brien, aka Leslie Lexington.”
“You found a criminal record. Is that what you’re going to tell me?” Her tone was curt.
Colt took a deep breath and held on to his irritation. He’d done the search for her. He wanted her to know exactly who she was dealing with. Didn’t she get that? Okay, he’d been curious about the guy too, and wanted to confirm what his gut told him, but his primary reasons had been for Morgan. All he’d been doing was looking out for her, like he would for any friend.
Except she was more than a friend – just like she had been in the past – and he knew it. The question was, what was he prepared to do about that?
Thrusting the irritating thoughts aside, he answered her in a voice that remained deceptively calm. “Yes, I found his criminal record and it’s quite extensive. He’s spent much of his life in and out of prison. The majority of them are offenses of dishonesty, including several short prison terms for fraud. It makes me wonder what he’s doing here, with your dad.”