Carole hesitated. "It was on Vermont Street. I think it was one-eleven, but it's been awhile."
Nicole jotted down the address. "What about Andrea's friends? There must be someone who keeps in touch with her."
"I don't know who her friends are anymore."
"Well, maybe the police will be able to track her down," Nicole said, frustrated with Carole's reticence. Or maybe the woman truly didn't know anything. She'd obviously lived a life of denial and pretense for a long time. She doubted any of Carole's friends knew anything about her daughter or the pregnancy or the twins. It would have been swept under the rug years ago.
"I gave the police the same information I just gave you," Carole said.
"What about your husband? Has he talked to the cops?"
"Not yet. An inspector said he would be by later this afternoon. I'm not looking forward to that. Philip doesn't care to acknowledge Andrea's existence any more."
"He doesn't care at all about what's happening with his daughter?" She thought Philip sounded like a cold, ruthless person.
"I think he does care, somewhere down deep," Carole said. "But he doesn't let anyone see it, not even me. We don't talk about Andrea in this house. We haven't said her name in probably five or six years. I'm sure you don't understand that. Unless you've had to deal with someone who has an addiction, it's impossible to know how difficult it is. Andrea is a different person on drugs. She's not herself."
"It doesn’t sound like she got along that well with you and your husband when she was herself."
"I suppose that's true." Carole sighed. "I really wish everything had gone differently. Andrea deserved to have a better life than the one she has, and believe me when I say I know I'm not blameless. Being a mother is the hardest job I ever had."
Nicole could relate to that even if she couldn't relate to much else that Carole had said.
Ryan reentered the kitchen, and said, "Ready to go?"
"I guess." She was reluctant to leave Carole, feeling like she was the closest link to Andrea, but Carole was already standing up, and it was clear she was done with their conversation.
When they reached the front door, Carole said, "I really hope the boys are all right. Perhaps you could let me know when you find them."
"Sure," Nicole said.
"Thanks," Ryan said to Carole. "We appreciate your help."
"I only wish I could help more," she said, then shut the door behind them.
Nicole frowned as she followed Ryan down to the car, wondering why Ryan had suddenly been so nice to Carole. His mood seemed to have changed between the time he'd left the kitchen and come back.
"Ryan," she began.
"Get in the car," he said, a sparkle in his eyes.
"Okay, I'm in," she said, as she got into her seat and closed the door. "What's going on?"
"I made a side trip through Carole's study on the way to the bathroom, and I found a flyer for the Serenity Healing Center on top of a pile of papers. I did a search on my phone and found out it's a drug rehab and psychiatric clinic in Santa Monica. I'm thinking maybe Andrea made one of her stops in rehab there." He turned the key in the ignition. "I think we should go there and see if anyone has any information on Andrea. It's another long shot, but it's not that far away, so we might as well check it out."
"Sounds good to me. I wasn't ready to go back to Angel's Bay yet." She looked up the Serenity Healing Center on her phone. "I've got directions. We need to get on the freeway. Turn right at the next light. Then drive about a mile, and we should see the on-ramp."
"Got it." As he pulled away from the curb, he said, "Did Carole tell you anything else while I was in the bathroom."
"She gave me the address of where Andrea was living when she saw her a few years ago. We can check that out after we go to the rehab center." She thought about everything they'd learned in the past hour. "It's weird how we almost didn't get Brandon, isn't it? Sometimes, one random decision can change your whole life."
"And not just your life, but a lot of other people's lives. A fifteen-year-old girl has unprotected sex, and becomes pregnant, and look how many people have been affected by that one, probably impulsive, moment."
"Yeah. It sounds like Andrea suffered a lot when she gave up the kids." She glanced at Ryan. "I didn't want it to be that way. I didn't want to become a mother at someone else's expense. I didn't want our joy to be the result of someone else's heartbreak."
"We didn't know, Nicole. All we knew was that we were going to give Brandon a good home, and that's what we did. You need to keep your eye on the ball."
She smiled at his sports metaphor. "Don't worry, my eye is still on the ball."
"Good, because it sounded like you were feeling a little sorry for Andrea. And it's more than likely she's the one who kidnapped our boy."
"I know. I get it. We find her, we find them."
Chapter Eighteen
On their way to the healing center, Ryan got a call from Chief Silveira. He put it on speaker so that Nicole could hear their conversation.
"We believe we located the owner of the pen that was depicted in your son's drawing," the chief said.
Ryan shot Nicole a quick look, then said. "Who's that?"
"Jonathan Haywood. His parents own Haywood Plumbing. Jonathan is twenty-six years old, and the third of their five children. He's been in and out of trouble and rehab the past five years. He works at the company sporadically, but last month he said he was quitting for good. He had a better opportunity."
"How do you know he's the owner of the pen?" Ryan asked. "It sounds like there are a lot of Haywoods. Although, Carole Holt told us that Andrea has been involved with drugs, so there's a connection."
"I've got a better one," the chief said. "I spoke to Beverly Haywood, Jonathan's mother. She told me that the Holts lived next door to them for twelve years when they lived in North Hollywood. Beverly Haywood was best friends with Carole Holt, and her daughter, Kelly, was good friends with Andrea.
"That’s definitely a link," Ryan muttered.
"Yes. The Holts moved to Beverly Hills when Andrea and Kelly were about fourteen, and after that the Haywoods saw little of them. Beverly said that she was hurt that Carole didn’t keep in touch, but she knew that Philip controlled a lot of his wife's time, and they were moving up in the world."
"Philip sounds like a hell of a guy," Ryan said dryly, thinking about the man who had forced his daughter to give up her kids and apparently kept his wife on a tight rein as well.
"We haven't been able to speak to him yet," Chief Silveira said. "But he's on the list."
"You still haven't told us why you think Jonathan is the owner of the pen," Ryan said. "It was his sister that was friends with Andrea, right?"
"Yes, but the families were close, and Beverly said that Andrea and Jonathan used to go to concerts together. However, what really points to Jonathan is the statement I got from his roommate. He said that Jonathan called him from Santa Barbara a few days ago and said he was going to move to Florida with his girlfriend. That he was going to finally get what was due to him. That was a direct quote."
"The Florida license plates," Nicole muttered.
He met her gaze and his jaw tightened. "How long will it take for you to bring in Haywood?"
"We're working on it right now. Where are you two?"
"We just left Carole Holt's house," Ryan replied, filling the chief in on the information Carole had given them, including her relationship to Paula Schilling.
"Sounds like I need to have another chat with Paula," the chief said. "I can't believe she's been sitting on this information with her grandson's life in the balance. Keep in touch."
"We will," Ryan promised. After disconnecting the call, he looked at Nicole. "What do you think?"
Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "I know it's a leap, but I think that Andrea and this Haywood guy kidnapped the boys."
"It's certainly looking that way," he conceded. "Maybe Haywood is the biological father."
He could see the excitement on her face, and he wanted to feel as optimistic as she did, but he wasn't quite sure they weren't still missing an important piece of information. "Let's see if the rehab center can give us another clue."
Ten minutes later they arrived at the Serenity Healing Center, which was a three-story building across the street from the Santa Monica beach and pier. It looked like a boutique hotel and with views facing the ocean. Ryan thought it was just the kind of place a woman like Carole Holt would send her daughter for help. It was clean and upscale. One could almost pretend that they were on vacation or at a retreat instead of getting treated for a drug addiction.
"It's nice," Nicole said as they parked in a small lot behind the building. "Serene."
He smiled at the touch of sarcasm in her tone. "I was thinking the same thing. What better place for the drug addict daughter of a wealthy family to go?"
"Exactly, but I'm worried now that this kind of place probably gets celebrities and other people who are extremely private. They're not going to turn over Andrea's personal information to us. Should we call Chief Silveira or Max? Get them involved in this?" She paused. "I noticed you didn't mention our lead to Chief Silveira."
"We don't know if it is a lead yet. We can always call the police after we check things out."
They got out of the car and walked across the lot. Ryan held the door open for Nicole, then followed her inside the building.
The lobby was beautiful. Along one wall was a gentle waterfall that ended in a swirling dark blue tiled pool of rippling water. Soft music played in the background and the lighting was warm and muted. There were comfortable couches and chairs next to reading lamps and bookshelves. But there was no one sitting on those couches, no one reading any of the books. There was, however, a young woman sitting at a desk by the far window.
As they approached, the woman gave them a warm, welcoming look. She was probably in her mid-twenties, Ryan thought. He flashed her a smile, knowing that getting her on their side was probably the first step.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello," she replied. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so. We're trying to find a friend of ours. She disappeared a few weeks ago, and we think she might be here."
"I'm afraid I can't give out any information regarding our guests."
Ryan noted her deliberate use of the word guest when patient probably would have been a more accurate word.
"I completely understand," he said, stalling for time as he searched for the right words to say. "We wouldn't be here if we had another choice, but we have information regarding Andrea Holt's children, and she's been waiting for this news for a long time. We really need to find her. It's very important. If there's anything you can do to help us, we'd be extremely grateful."
The woman drew in a big breath, debate going on in her eyes. "Why don't I get the director for you? He can answer your questions."
"That would be great."
"Have a seat." As they moved toward the couches, she picked up the phone. "Dr. Robertson. There's someone here with information on Andrea Holt's children." She listened for a moment, then hung up the phone and turned to them. "He'll be right out."
"Nice," Nicole murmured as they sat down on the couch. "I haven't seen you use that kind of charm since you needed to talk Mrs. Mulligan into giving you a higher grade in physics so you could graduate on time."
He smiled. "I save it for when I need it."
She gave him a weak smile in return, but it was obvious her thoughts were somewhere else. He put a hand on her thigh, quieting the rapid tapping of her leg.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Just nervous, excited, worried."
"We're on to something here, Nicole. You heard the way she talked to the doctor; they know Andrea, they know about her children."
Nicole straightened. "That's true. You're right. She definitely recognized the name."
The ding of the elevator door interrupted their conversation. They both rose as a man stepped off and headed in their direction. He wore an expensive suit with a dress shirt and tie and was probably in his forties. He moved with a purpose and a confidence that suggested he was in charge.
"Hello," he said. "I'm Edward Robertson, the medical director of the center. And you are?"
"Ryan Prescott," he said, shaking the man's hand.
"And I'm Nicole Prescott," Nicole said as she also shook hands with the doctor.
"You've been asking about Andrea Holt?"
"Yes." As Ryan looked into the doctor's sharp gaze, he knew that no amount of charm was going to sway this man. He decided to go with the truth. "I don't know how much you know about Andrea's background, but when she was a teenager she gave up two children for adoption. Nicole and I adopted one of her twin boys when he was four days old. He's six now, and his name is Brandon." A knot grew in Ryan's throat as the image of Brandon flashed through his head, reminding him how important it was that they get this doctor to help them.
"Brandon was kidnapped from a playground last Thursday afternoon," Ryan continued. "And his twin brother was taken from a party the day before that. Since then the police from two counties as well as the two adoptive families have been looking for the boys. We believe that Andrea may be able to help us find them." He didn't go as far as to say that they believed Andrea had the kids, because he didn't want the doctor to think he had to protect Andrea from them.
"I'm sorry to hear about all this," Dr. Robertson said, his expression more somber now. "Unfortunately, Andrea is not going to be able to help you."
"We just want to talk to her. If she can't help, then we'll move on," Ryan said, sensing that the doctor was about to send them out the door without any information.
"Carole told us you might be able to help," Nicole interjected. "We just came from her house."
"I was wondering how you found us," the doctor replied. "I must admit I'm a little surprised Carole talked to you about us."
"She's worried about her grandchildren," Nicole said. "Can you please help us? We need to talk to Andrea. And it would be better if we spoke to her before the police did."
"Come with me," the doctor said abruptly. He walked over to the elevator and pushed the button.
Ryan and Nicole quickly followed. "Where are we going?" Ryan asked.
"You asked for help, and after hearing your story, I'm inclined to give it," the doctor said as they stepped into the elevator. "I'm very sorry about your children. I have a son, and I know I would be desperate if something happened to him."
"We are desperate," Nicole said. "We'll do whatever it takes to get our kids back."
They got off on the third floor and walked down a hallway filled with low-lit lamps and expensive artwork. There was no one around. Everything was very quiet, almost eerily quiet.
Ryan wondered where all the patients were.
Dr. Robertson led them to the end of the hallway. He opened a door and waved them inside.
Ryan stepped across the threshold first. He'd thought they were entering the director's office, but this was a small observation room with a computer system and phone on the counter. And beyond the glass was a woman lying in a hospital bed. She was small and still with long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders. She was lying on her back, and she was so pale for a moment he thought she was dead.
Nicole gasped and put her hand on his arm. "Is that…"
"Andrea Holt," Dr. Robertson replied.
"What's wrong with her?" Ryan asked, stunned that they were looking at Andrea Holt, at Brandon's biological mother.
"She's under sedation. She's dealing with psychological disorders and withdrawal from substance abuse. She had an intense session this
morning and became quite agitated, so we sedated her. As I told you, she's in no condition to answer any questions."
"How long has she been here?" Ryan asked, staring through the glass window.
"About three weeks," the doctor replied.
Which meant Andrea could not have kidnapped Brandon or Kyle. The realization almost knocked Ryan off of his feet. He was grateful for Nicole's hand on his arm. He needed the contact, the connection to reality. It was the only thing keeping him upright.
"She looks like Brandon," Nicole murmured.
Andrea did look like Brandon. His stomach turned over seeing his son's familiar features in this young woman's thin face. This was his son's mother. But, no, that was wrong. Nicole was Brandon's mother. This was just the person who had given birth to Brandon and Kyle, although, even that was difficult to believe. Andrea didn't look old enough now to be a mother. He couldn't imagine what she would have looked like at fifteen. It really hit home to him just how young she had been when she'd given up her boys—barely more than a child herself.
"She doesn't have the boys," Nicole said, drawing his attention. "She didn't take them, Ryan."
He saw the shocked pain in her eyes, and heard the bewilderment in her voice, and he knew exactly how she felt.
"We were wrong," Nicole continued. "Oh, my God!" She put a hand to her mouth. "We were wrong. We've been on the wrong track all along. What do we do now?"
"We keep looking," he said firmly, seeing the panic in her gaze. "We keep asking questions."
"I don't even know what to ask anymore."
He didn't, either. He'd been so sure that finding Andrea would lead them to Brandon, but they were back where they'd been when they started. He wanted to hit something, but he had to hold it together—for Nicole and also for Brandon.
He turned to the doctor, seeing a speculative look on his face.
"You thought Andrea had kidnapped your child?" Dr. Robertson asked.
"We thought it was a possibility," Ryan conceded. "Or that she might know who did. Has anyone else visited Andrea?"
"Only her mother. She came the day after Andrea was admitted, but Andrea wouldn't see her. Andrea has a lot of issues with her parents."
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