Marissa sank lower into her chair as she absorbed the shock of Evan’s news.
“We broke up.”
“God, Marissa. I’m sorry.”
“I suppose I should also tell you that I’m pregnant,” she said. “Better you hear it from me than through the office grapevine.”
“Is that what the argument was all about?”
Marissa nodded, reliving the whole awful scene. The hatred on Seth’s face. Evan sat back in his chair and regarded her with a thoughtful look.
“Try not to worry. I’m sure the two of you will work it out.”
He was wrong. Seth had been so angry and hurt about the baby. She couldn’t blame him. Some mistakes couldn’t be fixed.
“Even a complete idiot would have to be blind not to see how much the two of you care for each other.”
“I screwed up. He’s furious with me.”
Evan offered her an encouraging smile. “Maybe so, but he’s a reasonable guy. He’ll get over it.”
“I hope you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m doing a crappy job of keeping my personal problems at home.”
“It’s okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Marissa thanked Evan and headed back to her office. She pulled the cell phone from her pocket and checked the time. She had a few hours before she had to take Brooke to her therapy appointment. That was good.
She could start looking for contractors to help them with the donation model and get a short list to Evan before she left.
Not paying attention to where she was going, Marissa ran headlong into Seth.
The cell phone tumbled from her hand, and he caught it midair.
“Oh,” she said.
Her stomach lurched at the sight of him. They hadn’t seen each other since yesterday morning when they’d argued. Seth hadn’t come back to the office, which was just as well. She wouldn’t have known what to say.
“Hey,” he said and handed the phone back to her. His fingers brushed hers, and she felt the ache of distance between them, as painful as rubbing salt into an open wound.
“You’re on your way out?” she asked, feeling stupid for stating the obvious.
“Tracking down a lead.”
“Evan says you’ve quit.”
He gave her a sheepish look.
“I was meaning to tell you, but it all happened so fast. Alvarez offered me a job back on the force.”
A lump formed in her throat.
“Are you leaving because of me?” she asked.
She’d made a mess of things. She couldn’t blame him for wanting out.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. We’ve got a lot to talk about, but not here,” he said.
“You’re right.”
“I’ll call you tonight,” he said.
Chapter 38
Jenna Harris was waiting for Seth in the precinct lobby. He signed in at the desk. The place was buzzing with activity. Voices talking, laughing. So different than the foundation. Being here just felt right, comfortable, like slipping on a favorite jacket, Seth thought as he followed Jenna down the hallway to the squad room.
“Is this about the Kincaid case?” Jenna asked when they reached her desk. Seth nodded.
“May I?” He gestured toward her keyboard. She shrugged, and he typed in Wilcox’s name into a search screen. “I believe this guy recently brokered an adoption to a Jared Binghurst.”
“How do you know that?”
Seth hesitated. This is where it got tricky. He and Henry were working outside of the law, so whatever Henry discovered was tainted.
“I think the same doctor who brokered the adoption ordered some unusual tests on our two missing women. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Maybe not, Seth, but it’s pretty thin.”
Seth raked his hands through his hair. The connection points were tenuous. He knew that.
“Why didn’t you go to Garcia with this?” Jenna asked.
“Garcia would have dismissed me out of hand. Besides, she’s pursuing her own angle on the case. I don’t want to interfere with that. You run the Human Trafficking Unit. You know that human beings can be bought and sold like merchandise for a whole host of reasons.”
“I don’t know, Seth.”
“Please, Jenna. All I’m asking is that you ask some questions about the adoption. I can’t ignore my instincts on this one. If I’m wrong, if everything is above board, then fine. No harm, no foul.”
“It’s not the questions that worry me.”
“Seth.” Lieutenant Alvarez crossed the squad room, walking toward them. “What brings you by?”
“I had a hunch about something and wanted to run it by Jenna.”
“Do I want to know?” Alvarez asked.
Seth filled him in, knowing full well that he was probably going to be shot down again and that coming here was a waste of time. Jenna was going to strong-arm him again, just like Garcia.
“You’re right, Seth,” Alvarez said. “A coincidence like that is not something you can ignore. I’ve ignored your instincts before only to be proven wrong. I suggest you don’t do the same, Jenna.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant.”
“Glad to help.”
“I gave my notice to the foundation,” Seth said.
It was Alvarez’s turn to look surprised. “That’s great news. Does that mean we can set a start date?”
“I’ll give you a call.”
“Excellent.” Alvarez clapped him on the shoulder. “It will be good to have you back.”
“Wait. You’re coming back?” Jenna asked.
Seth flashed a lopsided grin. “What was I going to do? Sell insurance?”
Jenna laughed. Alvarez waved and went on his way.
“I will look into the Binghurst adoption.”
“Thank you. You’re doing me a huge favor,” Seth said.
“I could hardly refuse, seeing as how we’re almost family again.”
Jenna smiled, and for the first time since he’d left the force, he felt things shift, like he was part of the inside circle.
“Oh, and I should let you know that we’ve arrested Rico Pham’s uncle. All the kids are in protective custody. We’ll be placing them in foster homes.”
“Including Rico?”
She nodded. “He’s safe.”
It was good news. Seth made a mental note to follow up with Rico. Find out where he was and make sure he was in a good place.
“Thanks, Jenna. Hey, I could use another favor.”
“Christ, Crawford. What now?” The smile on her face belied the gruffness of her tone.
“Could you run Wilcox’s name through the LexisNexis database?”
He’d sorely missed having access to the LexisNexis database since he’d left the force. The amount of information it provided about known associates, known locations, past residences, work history was invaluable. The kind of connections it provided within seconds took weeks to track down.
“I suppose if I get into hot water over this, Alvarez will back me up,” she mused.
Jenna logged in. Wilcox owned a condo in Chico, a BMW. No assets in Washington State. Listed among former employers was a research lab in Seattle.
“What’s that?” Seth pointed to the screen.
Jenna clicked on it. “It’s a biotech firm in South Lake Union. They do stem cell and regenerative medicine research. Does that mean something to you?”
“Wilcox’s undergrad degree is in bioengineering.”
“Why would a surgeon go into research?” Jenna muttered.
Seth scratched his head, stringing the bits of information together like pearls on a strand. Stem cell research. Alzheimer’s tests. They had to be linked, and he knew just the person to help him make the connection.
Jenna sat back, arms crossed, eyeing him with a curious look.
“You just hit on something, and you’re not going to tell me?” Jenna said.
“Could you print Wilcox’s employment list, past
residences, other known address and associates for me?”
“Seriously?”
“You follow up on the adoption lead, and I promise I’ll call you if my hunch pans out.”
Jenna flipped Seth a mock salute on his way out of the squad room. He barely noticed the rain sheeting down from the deep gray sky as he dialed Henry’s number.
“Yes?”
“Where can I find Lia?”
Chapter 39
Marissa rushed to the elevator, car keys in hand. It was after two-thirty, and Brooke was expecting her home soon. She was already late.
The door to the parking garage squawked as she pushed her way through. Her footsteps echoed through the concrete structure. She dug her car keys from the bottom of her purse and threaded her way through the neat rows of parked cars.
She pressed the key fob. The car’s headlights flashed. Traffic on I-5 was probably crap. She’d need to take another route home to try and save some time.
Marissa didn’t hear the nearby growl of the car engine until it was almost on top of her. She looked up. There was no time to scream.
Bright headlights flooded her vision. Too close. She tried to jump out of the way. The car’s bumper clipped her. Pain shot through her hip. Thrown off balance, she slammed into the car next to her and landed hard on her hands and knees. A white car streaked past.
A dizzying wave of pain washed over Marissa.
The baby.
She pressed her hands against her flat belly, panicked that the fall had done some damage. She wasn’t cramping. That was a good sign.
Her scraped palms left bloody smear marks down the front of her trench coat. Shifting to her side, she moved the weight off her knees. Her nylons were a shredded mess. The deep scrapes gouging her knees burned like acid.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?” A man with a cane limped toward her. “What’s wrong with people? They didn’t even slow down.”
The man propped his cane against the car next to her and crouched down to examine her cuts. A slight dusting of gray brushed the temples of his curls.
“Let’s see,” he said, adjusting his glasses and holding out his hand.
“I’m okay,” Marissa said, catching her breath. The dizziness had passed. Aside from the cuts, nothing hurt too badly.
“Let me have a look. I’m a doctor.” He smiled.
Marissa felt a shiver rattle up her spine. “Sorry, I’m still a little spooked after—”
“After what that maniac did, I’m not surprised,” he said.
His hands were freezing cold and Marissa tried to pull away, but he held her palms in a firm grip and examined the scrapes. “Not too deep, but you’ll want to have them cleaned out. Avoid infection. I have a first aid kit in my car.”
“Thanks, but I’m really okay.”
He relinquished his hold on her. Marissa tried to rise, but he was standing too close. She scooted back a few inches and levered herself off the ground. Sparks of pain ignited through her hip. He took her arm and helped her to her feet. Her legs wobbled. She planted a hand on the car next to her to steady herself. Her palm burned.
Maybe she wasn’t as all right as she thought.
“Did you hit your head?”
The intensity of his gaze unnerved her, and suddenly she wanted to be as far away from him as she could get. Which was crazy. He’d been nothing but nice to her.
“No, my head is fine.”
“You still seem a little shaky.”
“I got hit by a car.” She picked her purse up off the garage floor. The contents lay scattered at her feet.
The stranger bent, picking up a handful of her belongings—her wallet, keys, lipstick, tissues, and handed them to her. The ultrasound photo lay on the concrete. He moved to pick it up but Marissa brushed him aside.
“Thanks, I’ve got this,” she said.
“Are you pregnant?”
She didn’t answer. Marissa picked up the ultrasound photo and tucked it back into her purse.
“You really should let me check you out,” he said. “Can’t be too careful. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to that baby.”
“No really, I’m fine,” she snapped.
He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and it was really starting to piss her off. She bent down and reached for her access card, which had fallen underneath the neighboring car. She grimaced at the pain in her hip, but kept silent, not wanting to give this guy another opportunity to tell her that she needed help.
“You’re really not very good at taking advice, are you?” he said.
He was quick. He lurched toward her. Before she could move or scream, his arm circled around her throat. Pressed hard, cutting off her airway.
“This could have been so much easier,” he hissed in her ear.
Black spots bloomed before her eyes. Then everything went black.
Chapter 40
Follow the money trail. Wasn’t that every cop’s mantra? The same account that paid for the genetic test results also paid rent on an office located here—a squat three-story concrete block in Bellevue, an upscale Seattle suburb. Not to say that there was a lot of money in Bellevue, but the parking lot was filled with status cars of all makes and models—Lexus, BMW, and the smartest little beauty on the block, the Tesla.
Henry parked his Prius on the far side of the lot underneath the protective canopy of a huge, ancient fir tree. Deep in shadow, the little car was effectively hidden from prying eyes. He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder and pulled out his phone. Called Seth. Having a former cop ride shotgun on this field trip would be a good thing.
Seth didn’t pick up the call, but Henry didn’t let that stop him. If the police knew about this place, they’d be busy twiddling their thumbs, waiting for warrants, while the crazy dude who’d snatched Becky and Suzie was out stalking another pregnant woman. Even Seth didn’t seem to get what they were up against. This guy was doing truly awful things. He had no right to privacy. He was preying on helpless women. He was a bully, and bullies needed to be stopped. At all costs.
When Henry had faced charges for illegally accessing an online account, Holt had defended him. The memory of the case still stung.
There was this intern where he worked as a developer for a software company. She was a good kid, Anna Kilburn, and wanted to design interfaces one day. Henry liked her because she was bright and curious, asked a lot of questions. While some of the other team members assigned her busywork, Henry gave her coding tasks—small projects to help her learn. With a little coaching and encouragement, her confidence soared, and she did well. Which is why when she stopped coming in, Henry started to worry.
He dug into the matter and soon enough, he learned that not only had she resigned from her internship, but she’d left college and moved back to her home town in Indiana. The whole situation felt wrong to him. In every conversation they’d ever had, he’d come to believe that Anna was happy at school, that she loved working at the software company. Something must have happened.
It didn’t take long to uncover the truth. Anna had been working another job with a catering company. She was working a party for a real estate firm who had closed a big sale. By all accounts, it had been an epic drunk fest. Cases of champagne. An open bar. Puke on the floor. Near the end of the night, Anna had been cornered by a big shot at the real estate agency.
She never said what happened. Never pressed charges. The very next day, she quit both jobs and left for home.
Henry made it his business to find out why. He spent his off hours finding more about this guy—Roy Fleming. Turns out, Anna wasn’t the only one Fleming had assaulted. The more Henry dug, the more dirt he found, until one day, he had a plan. Hacking into Fleming’s accounts, he made public every lie, every dirty business dealing, every affair that Fleming had ever had. By the time he was done with the poor bastard, Fleming had lost his money, his job, and his wife.
Henry flew back to Indiana to give Anna the news, but she was gone. Razor blades in the show
er. But Henry knew the truth. Shame killed her.
Devastated, he came back to Seattle to find that he had been sloppy. He’d left a trail. Charged.
Was he guilty? Hell, yeah. Elizabeth Holt knew he was guilty when she took the case, but the old gal hated bullies as much as he did, and when she was done with Fleming, Henry walked away scot-free.
So when Elizabeth asked him to join the foundation, Henry said hell yes, and he never made those same rookie mistakes again.
Henry rolled through the doors of the office building and down the narrow maze of sterile hallways, knowing the way by heart. He’d already checked the plans.
Hands in his pockets, he paused in front of the directory listing. A whole bevvy of high-priced granola professionals hung their hats here. Naturopaths, acupuncturists, energy healers, you name it. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found a spiritual coach or two mixed into the bunch. It seemed almost poetic that this was where the adoption agency chose to set up shop.
As he strolled down the hallway, Henry’s gaze drifted toward the dingy off-white ceiling and the red dots, which revealed the placement of the security cameras. Whoever had installed the cameras had done a piss poor job. The gear was old, low resolution, and the placement was downright criminal.
The first corner was completely blind while the cameras in the next hall were mounted at odd angles and set too far apart to follow a visitor’s continual progress through the building. He should know. He’d spent more summers than he cared to remember installing security systems in buildings just like this for his old man.
The old man would have kicked his ass if he’d left this many blind spots, that was for goddamned sure.
The dirty truth about most surveillance systems was a majority of the footage was unusable, and this one would be no different. What little footage they recorded would be black and white and grainy—the type you saw on the news. A local 7-Eleven gets knocked over by a blurry black blob.
Has anyone seen this man?
Christ, no. He’s a blurry black blob. Morons.
Even if the gear was better quality, chances were fifty-fifty that they were even recording.
He supposed it was just as well that Seth wasn’t here because he would just try and talk Henry out of it. Breaking and entering carried hefty consequences. That is, if you got caught.
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