“He’s not too fussy. We should check the tires as soon as possible. We can go back for the pacifiers before we leave town. We’ll need them.”
They pulled into the alley behind the police station, and Chris groaned.
“Yellow clay?” Alyssa identified, looking at the tires of the police cruiser parked in the small lot near the police station’s rear entrance. “Is that the car—”
Chris nodded. “That’s the exact car Mitch was driving when he came by last night.”
“No wonder he was in such a hurry to leave.”
“I just wish we hadn’t shared so much. Now he knows everything we know, and he has the spreadsheet with the addresses.”
“Do you think we should still head to Lake Geneva?”
Chris pulled away from the station and pointed the Jeep back toward Alyssa’s place. “Mitch wouldn’t have taken those addresses if they weren’t important. We’re just going to have to hurry—the morning is almost over, and I need to be back before my shift starts at two.”
As they neared her home, Alyssa spotted a large SUV parked near her statuary lot. “Who do you suppose that is?”
“That looks like the same Sequoia that was driving off down the road yesterday when I responded to your initial call.”
“You mean, when the baby—” Alyssa started to open her door even before the Jeep came to a stop. She couldn’t see anyone, but if there was any chance her sister had dropped off the baby from the same vehicle—
“You need to be careful. That could be anyone.”
But already one of the SUVs doors opened and a woman stepped out, turning her face so that the wind blew her blond hair back from her face. It was a face Alyssa hadn’t seen in years, but which so closely resembled the one she saw in the mirror every morning.
NINE
“Vanessa!” Alyssa scrambled out of the Jeep and ran to her sister, wrapping her in her arms and squeezing her tighter than she’d ever squeezed anyone in her life. Then she pulled back just far enough to see into her sister’s face, the face she feared she might never see again, to see that it was really her and to take in all the changes the past eight years had made.
It wasn’t until Vanessa started sobbing that Alyssa realized she was crying, too—big tears flowing down her cheeks, dripping from her chin.
Then her sister looked past her for just a second and said, “Sammy looks happy. You did a good job with him. Was he too much trouble?”
“Sammy?” Alyssa looked behind her and saw that Chris had brought the baby carrier over. “You named him after Grandpa?”
Vanessa smiled at her sister knowingly. “I always said I would.”
Alyssa hugged her sister again, amazed that, in spite of all the time that had passed between them and all the things she didn’t yet know about her sister’s time away, on some level, her sister was still the same girl she’d grown up with. It gave her hope that they could pick back up and put their family back together.
As she was hugging her sister, one of the SUV’s doors opened, and a little girl peeked out. “Mommy? Is it time?”
“Yes, it’s okay.” Vanessa stepped back and held the door open as first one, then a second girl clambered out.
Alyssa felt the tears begin to flow again as she looked at little girls that reminded her so much of her and her sister at their ages. “You have two daughters?”
“This is Abby and Emma. Girls, this is your aunt, my twin sister I told you about.”
“She does look just like you, Mommy. Just like you said.”
The little girls tackled Alyssa in a hug, and she bent down to embrace them, amazed that she had nieces, that they knew about her, that they thought she looked just like their beautiful mother.
Chris cleared his throat behind them. “I think we should all go inside,” he suggested.
Alyssa realized instantly the wisdom of his suggestion. “Let’s do go inside.” For all she knew, the smugglers might still be around. It was also a reminder that she and Chris had made plans to try to learn more about the smugglers in hopes of putting a stop to their crimes.
She wished the smugglers would wait so she could focus on her reunion with her sister and the nieces she hadn’t known she had, but unfortunately, she’d observed enough of the criminals’ work to know otherwise. If she let her guard down, they’d take advantage of her again.
The driver’s door of the SUV popped open, and a man hopped out.
“You remember Eric Tomlin.” Vanessa took the man’s arm affectionately.
“I sold Grandpa’s cabin to him.”
“That’s where she found me,” Eric said.
“I fled to the cabin last night,” Vanessa explained, “after I dropped Sammy off with you. Eric was there. It was a little confusing at first, but then he helped me.”
“Helped you what? Where have you been all these years?” Alyssa was as confused as ever. She held the front door open as everyone filed through.
Vanessa entered last, pausing to speak in hushed tones. “I have a lot to explain, but I don’t want the girls to hear the details. I’ve protected them from the truth about our situation all these years. They have no idea what they’ve been through, and I don’t want them to know, at least not until they’re older and can understand it better.”
“I still have all your dolls upstairs. The girls can go up to our old bedroom and play with them.”
“You saved them!” Vanessa hugged her again. “That’s perfect. Girls, come see the dolls I used to play with when I was your age.”
Vanessa escorted the girls up the narrow stairs that led to what had once been a tiny attic, which their grandparents had converted into a bedroom for the twins when they’d come to live with them after their parents died. Alyssa hadn’t used the room since her grandfather’s health had declined following Vanessa’s disappearance. He’d slept in the recliner because he had trouble getting out of bed, and she’d taken the downstairs bedroom so she could hear him when he needed help.
Then she’d stayed downstairs after he was gone, because the memories upstairs were more painful than the memories downstairs.
“Do you have a Bible here I could look at?” Eric asked.
“Sure. Let me grab it.” Alyssa handed him the Bible from her nightstand as Vanessa came back down the stairs.
“So, where have you been? What happened?” Alyssa asked, unable to hold in her questions any longer.
“I was kidnapped by a human-trafficking ring and held against my will. I was on the news last night—you didn’t see any of it?”
“I had my hands full with the baby.” Alyssa realized she hadn’t so much as turned on the television at all in the past day.
Vanessa hurriedly explained, “My captor married me—he’s the father of the kids. I won’t get into the details now, because there’s something more important. We caught the head of the human-trafficking ring this morning, but they were working closely with a drug-smuggling ring, and the people behind that are still at large. The authorities want me to go into hiding until they capture everyone behind the drug ring, too, because the two groups were working so closely together. I won’t be safe until they’ve all been captured.”
Alyssa felt her mouth drop open. “Drug trafficking. Like heroin?”
“Yes, exactly.” Vanessa looked a little startled. “I think that was the main drug they traded.”
Alyssa grabbed her sister’s hand, looking straight into her eyes as she had so many times when they were young. “What ever happened to your keys?”
“My keys?”
“Yes—your keys to this house, the workshop—”
“The kidnappers took them.”
Alyssa let out a long breath and looked at Chris. “Do you think they could be related?”
“It’s certainly possible. I
n fact, it might explain why someone would work so hard to frame you—to build up a cover story, to frame your sister if she ever escaped.” He addressed Vanessa. “Who were these people? What are their names?”
“Arthur Sherman was the man behind everything.”
“The owner of The Flaming Pheasant?”
Vanessa nodded. “It was one of their cover operations for the businesses that really made them money—drugs and human trafficking. But Arthur was only in charge of the human trafficking, as far as I understand it. Someone else was in charge of the drug ring. But what are you two talking about—is what related?”
Alyssa hated to frighten her sister more after all she’d been through, but she hoped perhaps by sharing information, they might be able to sort out what was going on. “Drug smugglers have been using my sculptures to hide their drugs. They broke into my workshop again just last night.”
“That’s it!” Vanessa gasped. “I overheard them last night. One of Arthur’s guys was talking about keeping surveillance on you. He said somebody was going to run a job.”
“Somebody?” Chris asked. “Who?”
“They said a name. They said they were going to run a job, whatever that means. Drug smuggling? What was the name? It was a man’s name. A plain, middle-aged-sounding name. I was so terrified when I heard them say they were watching you, I wasn’t thinking about the name. I was trying to sort out what it meant.”
“It’s okay.” Alyssa was too happy about seeing her sister again to let that small detail upset her happiness. “Maybe you’ll think of it.”
“Maybe I will. But whoever it is, the authorities hope they can catch them quickly. Now that the human-trafficking ring has been busted, they’re afraid the drug smugglers will go into hiding, and it will be that much more difficult to find them if they can’t catch them now.”
“So, the local smugglers and the drug smugglers associated with the trafficking ring are one and the same. It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise.” Chris crossed his arms over his chest, his expression determined. “I’m going to head up to Wisconsin right now. If these guys are about to go into hiding, I want to learn what I can before the trail dries up.”
Alyssa suddenly realized that, for all her concern, wanting to catch the drug smugglers, she’d rather spend time with her sister. They had so much catching up to do—she couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her so soon. “I think I might stay with Vanessa.”
But Vanessa shook her head. “You can’t.”
“What? Why not?”
“The authorities are waiting at the top of the hill. I’m supposed to go into hiding. They said they’d give me half an hour to pick up Sammy, but no longer. They don’t want to risk losing me. I’m a witness. I’ve probably stayed here too long already. I need to go.”
“It’s been twenty-five minutes.” Eric had been paging through Alyssa’s Bible and now held it open. “Mind if I take a minute to read this to you guys? When I was waiting on the hillside, just before Arthur Sherman ran toward me and I captured him, a sparrow landed near me and reminded me of this verse. But it wasn’t until I found it just now that I realized how appropriate it is.”
“Please read it.” Chris sounded interested.
“From Matthew, chapter ten. ‘Do not fear them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul. Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? Not one of them shall fall. Fear not therefore, you are of more value than many sparrows.’”
Alyssa felt her throat tighten at the encouraging words. She didn’t want to be parted from her sister, but if the authorities wanted Vanessa to go into hiding, she wasn’t going to argue with them. And perhaps the best thing she could do was to look into the lead with the drug smugglers. If they could catch everyone involved, then Vanessa could come home to stay. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.” She hugged her sister and her nieces, exchanged phone numbers and watched them leave with Eric, reassured by the words he’d read from the Bible. When the SUV reached the top of the hill, an unmarked vehicle pulled out and followed them out of sight.
When they were gone, Alyssa turned to Chris, feeling empty now with no baby to hold and her sister gone again. “I’m going with you. Remember, it was my idea.”
“We need to get moving. My shift starts in three hours. And every minute we waste is another minute the smugglers have to go deeper into hiding.” He led the way to his Jeep, and they both hopped in.
“What’s your plan?” Alyssa asked as they headed north toward Wisconsin.
“I’m going to check out those addresses of the folks who ordered your lambs. And I might swing by Dick Edwards’s place. Maybe he can help answer my questions. If he knows something, even if it’s not enough to bring these guys in, maybe it will help tip the scales with the rest of the clues we’ve put together. At the very least, maybe we’ll learn something before these guys destroy the evidence.”
Alyssa watched him fiddle with a pair of handcuffs in his center console. “Are you going to try to arrest them?”
“I don’t have any authority over there because it’s outside of my jurisdiction, but if I see anything, especially if it looks like these guys are going somewhere, I’ve got the number for the Drug Enforcement Agency on my phone. They’re not bound by state lines.”
* * *
Chris drove as quickly as he legally could, his thoughts swirling in a whirlpool of adrenaline. He had to hurry to catch the guys who’d done so much to hurt Alyssa and her sister. He was thrilled that Vanessa was back—completely astounded, really. But at the same time, it only reinforced his failure as a police officer. Because Vanessa had been out there the whole time, but he hadn’t been able to find her.
And with her return, Chris had lost all hope of earning Alyssa’s affection by finding her sister. He felt that much worse that she hadn’t reported her stolen statues because she didn’t believe the local police could actually help her. She’d even feared them on some level.
It burned inside him. He had to catch the drug smugglers—to show Alyssa he cared, that he was a competent officer who could be trusted. That he could protect her. And because the criminals had flaunted their ability to break the law far too long.
But at the same time another thought buzzed in his head, frustrating him. He’d seen Arthur Sherman before, a long time ago. The memories were faint, buried by time, but he dredged them up as he drove northward, remembering.
He’d gone to The Flaming Pheasant a couple of times in the wake of Vanessa’s disappearance. The captain in charge of the investigation had told him not to ask questions of Vanessa’s fellow employees. So he’d kept his mouth shut, ordered a meal like any other customer and gone quietly on his way. He’d gone hoping for answers, because he hadn’t been able to stay completely away, but he’d never learned anything.
But that was where he’d seen Arthur Sherman—not in real life, but in a picture on the wall, along with a couple of paragraphs welcoming customers to his restaurant. Where else had he seen him since then?
Before he could remember, he came up a road that led toward the first house of the many in the immediate area that had ordered little lamb statues from Alyssa. She found the house on the map for him, and he slowed down as they approached. Both of them scoured the yard for any sign of a lamb statue.
“There’s a bunny statue under the tree,” Alyssa identified as they drew closer. “That’s one of my designs.”
“Maybe when they went on the website to order the lamb, they saw the bunny statue and decided to buy it, too.”
“That makes sense,” Alyssa conceded, “but where’s the lamb statue? Those two are of relative size. It would make sense for them to be placed together.”
“Unless they bought the lamb for their friend and the bunny for themselves.”
“And broke open the lamb for the drugs,” Alyssa finished glu
mly. “So far, your theory holds.”
Chris felt only the slightest reassurance from that fact. “Let’s check out the next house on the list. It’s not far.”
The second house had no sign of any concrete statues in the yard, just a few bushes and the autumn remnants of a flower bed in a neat, landscaped arrangement.
“The next house is Dick Edwards’s,” Alyssa noted, studying the map. “The others are mostly on the other side of him. He’s located almost in the middle of their circle—that fits your theory, if he moved here intentionally to try to catch the smugglers.”
“Let’s drive by and see if there’s anything to see.” Chris took the turn that led them into a neighborhood of small acreages, sweeping lawns neatly mowed, with tennis courts and tiny ponds fed by fountains.
“Nice neighborhood,” Alyssa observed.
“Looks like somebody doesn’t like it here, though. They’re moving out.” Chris pointed to a driveway up ahead, where two moving vans sat in the wide driveway, men traveling back and forth like drone bees, carrying boxes into the vans.
“That’s Dick’s house.” Alyssa looked at the map, then back to the house again, repeating the address from Chris’s notes even as his eyes confirmed the number on the mailbox.
“Why is Dick moving out?” Chris wondered.
“I thought the smugglers were the ones who were supposed to be going into hiding. Unless—” She gasped. “My sister said it was a male name, a common, middle-aged male name. Dick, maybe? I’m going to call her.”
Chris drove past the house and turned at the next corner.
“Where are you headed now?”
“The back side.”
“There isn’t a back side.” Alyssa gestured to the map with one hand while she held the phone with the other. “There’s just woods and a field—there’s not another road for half a mile.”
But Chris’s thoughts were flying, the pieces falling into place quickly now. “That’s where I saw Arthur Sherman—at Dick’s house back home, before he retired. I stopped by to bring him some paperwork that needed his signature. Sherman was there. They seemed—chummy.”
Twin Threat Christmas Page 17