Fatal Secrets

by Barbara Phinney

  “Let’s hope. I’ll check in with him, too. We need to continue our surveillance tonight.”

  “I have a very secure home, Zane. And I know that Jackson will stop by later to check on me. You don’t need to bother.”

  “It’s not a bother.”

  He took a step closer to her, but she turned and walked to the entrance to her father’s office. “I’ll be fine. Go spend some time with your brother.”

  Her words doused him like cold water. Was this it?

  She drew in her breath as she spun back to face him. “Zane, you don’t have to look for Eloise anymore. Jackson is here with his task force. I have all the help I need. We both saw his determination. He’ll find her, I just know it.”

  “You hired me.”

  “I know, and now I’m unhiring you.” She shook her head at the foolish term. “Or whatever the word is. Zane, your brother wants you to go to Mexico with him. You didn’t want to take my case on in the first place, so why not go with him? You’d be a fool not to.”

  “It’s hot in Mexico this time of year.”

  “Bobby’s survived and I’m sure you will, too.”

  He felt his jaw tightening. “And what about protecting you against Martino? Where is this task force? They could be miles away.”

  “But Jackson isn’t. And you can’t tell me you can protect me any better than he can. He’s an FBI agent. You’re not.”

  He wanted to snap back that he could do as good a job as any FBI agent. He wanted to ream off the lists of qualifications he possessed. The only difference between him and Jackson was age and experience. In some ways, Zane was better qualified. He was younger, and not hindered by any rules and regulations that an FBI agent might be.

  But he held back his irritation. More was going on here than what appeared. “I agreed to find your mother, and I don’t shirk my duty.”

  “Your brother is waiting, Zane. Don’t keep him.”

  “Never mind my brother. He can wait. He doesn’t strike me as the impatient sort. Why are you giving up on finding your mother, all of a sudden?”

  She threw up her hands. “I can’t ever find her! It’s too dangerous. For her and for me! Look around you, Zane. Look at all we’ve done and all that’s happened. A woman has been murdered! I don’t dare find my mother and risk both our lives! If she thought it was safe to find me, she would have years ago. Obviously, she didn’t think it was safe to do that. And I won’t risk seeing her for only a few minutes, and then lose her again forever! I won’t!”

  Her chin wrinkled as she fought to control her emotions. She turned and rushed away.

  He found her in the kitchen, struggling to yank tissues from a box, and muttering when they ripped on her. “Stupid box.”

  “Kristin!”

  She turned around. “You should go. I don’t know what the neighbors are thinking of me. First you, then you and Jake, then you and Jackson, then you and Bobby. I’m surprised that the pastor hasn’t come to check on me.”

  “That didn’t bother you before.” He grabbed her shoulders and squared her off to him. “What’s really going on here?”

  “Finding my mother is just not meant to be. I can feel it. The way God is telling me to back off. I’m sorry, Zane. I didn’t mean to mislead you with hiring you, but I’ve come to see how wrong this search is. Jackson will find her eventually. I was wrong to involve you in all this and waste your time. Send me your bill when you get back to your office. I mean it, Zane. Get out of here.”

  The blow was crushing, stealing his breath and tightening around him like an iron band.

  “No, Kristin,” he said, quietly focusing on her completely, all the while keeping himself from tightening his grip on her shoulders. “I took your case because I wanted to. You haven’t misled me.”

  “Yes, I have,” she answered, her voice plaintive and barely above a whisper. “Finding my mother is just not meant to be. I knew it, but was being defiant about getting what I wanted.”

  “Like you knew that you weren’t missionary material? Like you knew you could never minister to me and my jaded view on God? Look at what you’ve taught me. Not in the traditional sense, but with your own faith, your own actions.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve done nothing, and you know it. Now you have your family, just as I prayed you would.”

  “You’re not the only one who prayed. I prayed all the way over here today that Bobby would be my brother. I wasn’t making deals with God in some backhanded, sarcastic way that I had before. And all the way here, I knew He was in control. I can’t explain it any better than that. It’s just something I know. I’ve learned to trust God, and accept His Son only because of your faith.”

  He released her, trying to quell his sudden frustration. What was really going on here? He prided himself in reading body language, but suddenly, he couldn’t read hers. He couldn’t fathom what was going on in her head. Her face was more a mask to him than anyone’s had ever been before. Her reasons were clouded, too.

  All he could think of was how she didn’t want him in her life anymore. And he didn’t understand why.

  But he would finish what he’d promised he’d do. Only then would he consider Bobby’s offer of traveling to Mexico with him.

  If he wanted to.

  “Forget it,” he muttered. He still had his own sense of commitment.

  She frowned at his short, tight words, but said nothing. After a long, anxious minute, he spoke. “I will find your mother, because that’s what you hired me to do.” Then, before he said anything he might regret, he stalked out of the house and shut the door a bit too heavily.

  EIGHTEEN

  Kristin slumped against the wall, shut her eyes and listened to Zane’s departure. A car door slammed, then a car started and backed out of her driveway.

  She’d lost him. She’d thought she’d made that special connection with him, and for a while, maybe she had. It had been wonderful, comforting, exciting. She’d had someone to love and a strong chance of finding her mother, but all of that was just a fanciful dream. The reality of life had been flung to the ground in front of her.

  She loved him, but it was all just a one-sided fantasy.

  Dejectedly, she opened the freezer above her refrigerator. She shouldn’t be reaching for food again. Good thing there wasn’t much in there. But when had she eaten the pastries she’d baked and frozen a couple of weeks ago, the ones she’d wanted to offer to Zane and Jackson?

  She slammed the freezer door just as the phone rang. Wiping her tears, she hurried into the living room to answer it. “Hello?”

  Jackson didn’t like the tone of Kristin’s voice. She sounded defeated, a dangerous attitude. “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to talk. You didn’t answer your phone earlier.”

  “I’m sorry. Zane and his brother were here. It was a good reunion, albeit short. They’ll get together later.” Her words sounded guardedly hopeful. He hated that he didn’t have the ultimate good news for her, like Zane had received, but still, what he had was better than nothing.

  Shifting his cell phone to the other ear, he sat back in his car and watched her house. He’d seen the man who could only be Zane’s brother arrive, followed shortly by the brother and then Zane leaving. “I’ve done some searching and have found something.”

  “I’ve told Zane he doesn’t need to search anymore. He should spend time with his brother.” Her tone was flat, but still, she asked, “What have you discovered?”

  “We hadn’t considered Eloise’s talents before because we didn’t really know of any, but baking for money is quite possible. Another thing is that Eloise would know that she shouldn’t take a job related to her previous life.”

  “She was just a kid in that foster home. The Mafia wouldn’t know that she liked to bake, would they?”

  “Probably not, but considering we have a security leak…”

  “They may know all we know? How? I haven’t told anyone about her baking abilities.”

  Nor ha
d he, which made their investigation all the more difficult. Still, he didn’t want to give her reason to give up any more than she already had. He understood how she felt. She was lonely.

  And so was he. He was tired of work, and tired of being alone, and tired of not knowing where Eloise was. Finally, he spoke. “But we hadn’t considered that she might bake for fairs, or contests, or even church, if she still attends one.”

  “I hope so. My faith has been the only continuing comfort to me through all of this.”

  Jackson knew Kristin was a believer. After all, he’d had contact with her parents over the years. Illegal contact, if some bureaucrat nitpicked, but he didn’t care. Eloise had left her baby in his care, and he didn’t shirk his duty. She’d had a strong faith, and she wanted her child to have faith, too.

  He wouldn’t ever treat anything Eloise asked him with triviality. And having her daughter become a Christian would make her very happy.

  Grimacing, he spoke again. “Kristin, I’ve been checking out the local area.”

  “What for?”

  “Fairs, exhibitions, craft shows and all the things that Zane suggested. I’ve narrowed the search down considerably. I was going on the premise that your mother would enter a few competitions, and maybe earn a bit of extra money, in case she was afraid to actually work as a baker.”

  “What did you find?”

  “We found one fair in particular has a big purse to win in its baking section. It’s a huge event, and it’s starting tomorrow.”

  She gasped. “Tomorrow! I don’t know of any fair this early in the year. Most around here are in the late summer or fall.”

  “It’s more a craft exhibition and summer kickoff than anything else. It runs for five days, south of here. But it has big money prizes for baking, preserves and even has a juried art show and new inventions section. And past winners include a rather mysterious woman whom we can’t locate.”

  A silence lingered through the phone. Was she going to tell him she didn’t want to keep searching, as he was sensing she might?

  “Kristin?”

  “I was prepared to tell you to go home, Jackson. I told Zane that I wanted to give up because I’m scared I’ll be disappointed and lose her like I’ve lost Mom and Dad and Z—”

  What had happened between those two? A fight? He couldn’t see Zane giving up on her, no more than he could see Kristin giving up.

  She drew in a deep breath. “But I can’t. Not when we’ve come so far. When do we leave?”

  Her question was anticipated. He just hadn’t expected it to come in such a way that he felt as if he was about to kick a puppy. “You’re going to stay home. This is too dangerous for you. I’m arranging for a guard—”

  “My mother will be there!”

  “Your mother may be there. That’s a lot different. I won’t risk you. If Martino and his ‘family’ know as much as we know, they’ll be there to take advantage of the situation. By grabbing you, they may hope to force your mother to reveal herself. You’re staying at home. I’ll arrange for one of my task force to stay with you. Thea is her name. You’ll like her.”

  “I’m sure I would if I was to stay home, but I think I’ll be safer with you and the whole task force around me. No doubt you’ll be taking the rest of this task force with you, anyway, right?”

  She still amazed him. For being a sheltered, naïve woman, she was smart. Living with a lawyer and a teacher had taught her well. She had a logical mind. “It’s still not as safe as your house,” he said.

  “I disagree, and I think you do, as well. You don’t trust the local law enforcement, so you’d only be satisfied if one of your task force stayed with me, but then you’d be losing a valuable member, and you don’t want that.”

  Her adoptive father’s daughter. No genetic ties, but she’d learned well how to argue her case. He watched a family in a minivan pull into a house across the street. Several young teens spilled out and were halfway to the front door before their parents called them back to help with the groceries. A nice, normal family, the envy of anyone like him. “I’m not willing to risk you.”

  “It’s because I’m Eloise’s daughter and you feel responsible for me. But, Jackson, put yourself in my shoes. I need to find my mother and as much as I was ready to give up, I can’t now that you’ve told me this about the fair. We have to risk this, or more women will die.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. Don’t you understand?”

  Oh, he understood, all right. All those days and nights, sometimes when he was staking out a place, or checking out lonely areas, or watching other lonely people, he’d think of Eloise and wonder what she was doing.

  Was she thinking of him as he was thinking of her?

  Kristin didn’t want to be alone. What about Zane? He’d talked to the man just before calling Kristin, and the guy had sounded terse and angry when he’d flatly told him that Kristin didn’t want him to continue his search.

  Part of Jackson had been relieved, but Zane had become invaluable to Kristin, and subsequently so to Jackson. He wasn’t going to let the private investigator off the hook so easily, no matter what was going on between him and Kristin. He’d told Zane to be prepared to come tomorrow. No arguments.

  “I’m not going to commit to taking you anywhere right now, Kristin. I’ll need to make some arrangements first. We need to get a layout of the fair, see what they have for security, and I have to meet with my task force before I make a final decision.”

  “Where is this fair?”

  “South of Missoula, Mountain—” He stopped and sighed, knowing that a part of him was going to berate the rest of him for his next decision. She was resourceful. She’d find it anyway, and he had no legal right to detain her.

  “All right. I’ll tell you all about it on the way. Its biggest prize goes to the pie baking contest winner.”

  “Clay said she could bake a mean huckleberry pie.” Her tone changed. “Be honest with me here. What are the chances that my mother will be at this fair?”

  He honestly didn’t know, nor could he pull out a statistic and give her false hope. And if he said the chances were slim, she might not take his security seriously. “I don’t think about percentages, Kristin. It’s a strong lead, and I know that Eloise would do what she could to survive, and in order to survive, she’d need money. This would be an opportunity to get some big money. But she may not be there, for any number of reasons.”

  Kristin nodded. “I understand. And, yes, I don’t want to get my own hopes up too high, either.” Her words were calm, sweet, even. But the underlying emotions burned strong. “I’m going with you. So please don’t think you can sneak away without me. I’ll be at that fair, either with you and your task force or by myself.”

  He lifted his brows in amusement at her changed tone. “That’s a little stubborn, isn’t it?”

  “Whatever you may think, I’m not stubborn. Stubbornness is not a good trait, no matter how you describe it. But I do know what I need to do. I need my mother and what if the Lord is guiding me to her even if I thought differently earlier.”

  “Then why didn’t the Lord just deliver her to you years ago?”

  She let out a soft, sad sound. “Because I’m meant to meet some incredible people before that happens. People like you.”

  He grimaced. He wasn’t incredible. He was tired of his work, and frustrated that Eloise had so successfully hidden herself. God wasn’t guiding people when there were men like the Martinos around.

  “Jackson, call me to let me know when you’re leaving, okay?”

  She hung up.

  Jackson shut his phone. He wondered if Eloise was as difficult as her daughter was. He was expecting her to be, now.

  Abruptly, the phone rang. He flipped it open and answered, “McGraw here.”

  “Big Mac, it’s me.” It was Roark Canfield, one of his task force members. The tough, rugged man always called Jackson “Big Mac,” knowing full well how much it irritated him. “We found
where Lucien Esposito has been staying. He’s disappeared but you need to see what he’s left behind.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Kristin grimaced as she set down the phone and walked to the front hall. She wasn’t stubborn, and she hated stubbornness. So why did Jackson’s words rattle her so much?

  Because Zane had called her stubborn when they first met in that café, a voice told her.

  She set her house alarm. Naïve, yes, but no, not stubborn.

  Outside her house, a vehicle screeched its tires as it raced down the street. No doubt that family across the street had allowed one of their teenagers to have their van.

  Irritated, she grabbed her purse, with the intent to drop it onto her bed and start some much-needed housework. She grabbed her laundry hamper as she passed the bathroom.

  From inside her purse, “Ein Kleine Nachtmusik” danced out as her phone rang. Pausing, one arm around her hamper, she dug out the phone and stared at the screen.

  Zane.

  She didn’t want to talk to him. What would he say to her? That he was leaving for Mexico after all?

  Her throat tightened as the music played on. She was happy for them both, but could she endure being the third wheel, left out of the family circle because she had none?

  No, she couldn’t.

  Still, the urge to hear his voice one more time gripped her hard and fast.

  Her finger poked the talk button.

  “Kristin?”

  Zane’s voice was filled with concern. Her heart pounded, and regret ripped through her at the way she’d sent him packing. She should have been more compassionate, stronger, smarter and less naïve in realizing that Zane had only wanted a family. If she’d figured that out sooner, it wouldn’t hurt as it did now.

  “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

  She heard a sigh of relief. Hefting up the hamper, she walked around to the basement stairs.

  “I’ve been listening to the police scanner. They’ve found where Lucien Esposito’s been staying, but he hasn’t been seen there in a day or two. They’re collecting some evidence right now.”