He pushed up from the chair and took a turn around the room. “How in the hell did you come to that conclusion?”
She launched into a crazy tale of stuffed frogs and repressed memories of forests and news stories of Timberline until his head was swimming.
“Wait.” He sank onto the edge of the bed. “Based on a stuffed frog you had as a child that happens to be Timberline’s mascot, you think you were kidnapped and then what? Sold on the black market?”
“Don’t pretend that doesn’t happen. We both know it does, and the Kings were just the type to be involved in something like that. The rules didn’t apply to them. Their riches always gave them a sense of entitlement.”
“From what you’ve told me about your adoptive parents, I agree. But, Beth...” He reached across the bed and tugged on the hem of her pajama bottoms. “Maybe you have that frog because your parents, the Kings, passed through this area and bought it for you.”
“I thought of that, not that I could ever see them vacationing in Timberline, but what about the hypnosis?” She waved her arms in a big circle. “I went to a hypnotist in LA, and I saw this place—the lush forest, the greenery—and it scares the hell out of me.”
“There are a lot of places in the world that look like Timberline.”
“But combined with the frog?”
“Maybe something traumatic happened here when your parents were passing through. Hell, maybe there was a car accident or you wandered away and got lost—God knows, you’d be the kind of kid to do that, and I mean that in a good way.”
“The Kings never mentioned anything like that.”
“Why would they? You said they were distant, uncommunicative.”
“I just feel it, Duke.” She pounded her chest with one fist. “From the moment I saw the Wyatt Carson story and the Timberline scenery on TV, I felt it in my bones. There’s something about this place. I have a connection to it.”
“Have you tried to contact the Brices?”
“No. I don’t want to get their hopes up or make them think this is some cruel joke. I want to do some legwork first.”
“I thought you were convinced you were Heather Brice.”
“There’s being convinced and then there’s proving it. I came here to prove it.”
“It would be easy to know for sure with a DNA test.”
“I can’t put those poor people through that if I’m not sure.”
“What do you think is going to happen here? You’re going to have some revelation? Everything that happened to you at age two is suddenly going to come back to you in perfect recall?”
She stretched her legs out in front of her and tapped her feet together. “I’m not sure. I just know I have to be here, and I have to investigate.”
“You can’t go to the Brice house anymore. It’s been torn down along with its neighbors to make room for a shopping center.”
“I know that.” She drew her knees up to her chest and clasped her arms around her legs. “Does this mean you’re going to help me?”
He jerked back. How’d he get sucked in so quickly? He planted his feet on the carpet. Was she even telling the truth now? Maybe it was all a trick to get him to turn over what he knew about the Timberline Trio so she could film her stupid show and maybe even piggyback on his success like last time.
She saw it in his face—the doubt.
She touched her forehead to her knees and her strawberry blond hair created a veil over her face. Her voice came out muffled and unsteady. “I’m not playing you, Duke.”
A sharp pain knifed the back of his head. He was done—for now.
“You’ve had a crazy day. Get to bed and we’ll discuss it tomorrow.” He pushed off the bed and made it to the door. He yanked it open and paused as she rolled off the bed as if to follow him.
He raised one eyebrow.
“I have to brush my teeth again. Thanks for suggesting this room. I know it’s just a frog and a broken window, but I feel better being close to you.”
“Good night, Beth.”
As the door shut behind him, a whisper floated after him. “I always did feel better close to you.”
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Beth opened her eyes and stretched, feeling fifty pounds lighter. There had been a moment at the end of the evening when it looked like Duke was ready to bolt, but overall he’d taken her confession well. And he’d believed her.
She hadn’t revealed everything to him, but she wasn’t ready for that...and neither was he. Maybe she’d feel another fifty pounds lighter once she did.
Sitting up in bed, she reached for her phone and checked her messages. Scott had asked when she needed her cameraman and the rest of the crew. Maybe she’d never need them. If she played it cool and didn’t make a big fuss, her tormentor might stop harassing her and she could get down to the business of her real investigation.
The tap on her door made her yank the covers up to her chin.
“Beth, are you up yet? I talked to the cleaning crew, and I think I know how the intruder got into your hotel room.”
“I’m awake. Just a minute.” She scrambled out of bed, ran her tongue along her teeth and lunged for the door.
“Sleeping in?”
“I was exhausted.” She swung the door wide. “Come on in. What did the maids have to say?”
He put a finger to his lips and closed the door. “Let’s not broadcast this. They had a cart on your floor at about the time we figured someone broke into your room. They carry master room keys with them, and Gregory thinks someone walked by and snatched one, letting himself in your room.”
“Doesn’t say much for their security, does it?”
“What security? But the hotel is going to change its policy, and now each maid will have a single master key—no more leaving them on the carts. I’m not sure they were supposed to be doing that anyway.”
“I hope I didn’t get anyone in trouble.” She ran her fingers through her hair, wishing she’d told Duke to wait until she’d showered and dressed. “Have you had breakfast yet?”
“No. I went for a run and then met with Gregory.”
“Wish I’d been able to join you.” She glanced at the alarm clock. “Can I buy you breakfast?”
“To continue our discussion from last night?”
“To eat breakfast.”
“Pound on the wall when you’re ready.”
She released a pent-up breath when Duke left. Still testy, but he seemed as if he trusted her a little more after sleeping on her revelation. She’d have to make sure that trust continued to grow. She could use his help...and maybe his protection while unraveling her past.
She showered and dressed for the weather in a pair of jeans, a sweater and the boots she’d been wearing every day since she got here. Before leaving the room, she called the rental-car company to report the broken window.
Instead of banging on the wall, she knocked on Duke’s door.
He answered with a file folder in his hand. As he held it up, he said, “You may want to just eat breakfast, but I have to get to work. Yesterday was a wash.”
“There’s a restaurant a few miles from here that serves breakfast.” She averted her eyes from the folder. If he wanted to share with her, he would.
“We’ll take my car. Did you call the rental-car place?”
“I just did. They’re swapping out the car for me. Seemed so surprised about the vandalism and theft.”
“I guess it is unusual for this town unless you’re determined to dwell on its ugly past.”
“You know what I was thinking?” She ducked into the stairwell as Duke held the door for her. “I should’ve come here as a tourist and done my own detective work without the glare of publicity.”
“Without bringing the spotlight wit
h you, a lot of those people last night at the restaurant wouldn’t have any interest in talking to you about the case. They might’ve recognized you anyway and had their suspicions. You just didn’t realize not everyone would be thrilled with the show coming to town.”
“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before—people unhappy with the show coming to their town.” She shoved open the fire door to the lobby. “I’m going to put those pranks out of my mind and concentrate on my goal. Nothing is going to stop me.”
She glanced at the front desk on her way out but another clerk had replaced Gregory. When they reached the parking lot, Beth spotted the ex-con she’d run into before, straddling his bike and examining her broken car window.
“That’s the guy I saw in the forest.” She elbowed Duke and called to the man. “I saw you in the forest.”
The man looked up, a green baseball cap low on his forehead. “Is this your car?”
“It’s a rental.”
“That’s a shame.” He scratched his chin. “I heard why you were here—from them teenagers drinking in the woods.”
“Do you want to get on camera now, too?”
“No, ma’am. Some things are just better off left alone.” He got back on his bike and pedaled away.
“Do you know that man was questioned for the Carson kidnappings?”
Duke waved the file at her. “I do. His name is Gary Binder and he’s a former junkie and an ex-con.”
“Were you going to tell me about him?” She walked to the passenger side and he followed her. “I mentioned him to you yesterday.”
As he opened the door, he shrugged. “Would you blame me for keeping my research to myself?”
Before she could answer, he turned and walked back to the driver’s side.
By the time Duke got behind the wheel, she’d decided not to push her luck. If Duke wanted to help her in her quest, he’d do it. She wouldn’t push him, wouldn’t cajole. When she’d started this journey, she’d had no idea that Duke would be here. His presence did give her a sense of comfort, but she was determined to dig into this thing on her own and to discover the truth with or without Duke.
While he drove, she gave him directions to the little café that sat near a creek bed and served breakfast and lunch only. As they entered the restaurant, she pointed to the back. “They have a deck next to a running creek, but it looks like rain.”
“I have a feeling it always looks like rain in Timberline, and I don’t want my papers floating away.”
A waitress shoved through the swinging doors to the kitchen with a row of plates up each arm. “Sit anywhere. I’ll be right with you.”
They took a corner table and Duke turned his coffee cup upright. “You still drinking decaf tea?”
“You remembered?” For some reason, the fact that he remembered she’d been trying to give up caffeine gave her a warm glow. “I’ve been to this place already for breakfast and they have a good selection.”
The waitress approached with a coffeepot. “Coffee?”
“Just one. Black.” Duke inched his cup to the edge of the table.
“I’ll have some hot tea, please.”
Duke blew the steam rising from his cup. “How much do you know about Heather Brice?”
“She was the youngest kidnap victim at two, and she was snatched from her toddler bed while her babysitter slept on the couch in front of the TV.”
“She was also the last of the Timberline Trio.”
“The FBI at the time ruled out any connection between the missing children—no babysitters in common, no teachers, no day care, not even any friends, although Kayla Rush and Stevie Carson knew each other.”
“You have done your homework.” He took a sip of coffee as the waitress delivered her hot water and a selection of tea bags.
“One thing I don’t know?”
“Yeah?”
“The new evidence. After the Carson kidnap case was resolved, law-enforcement officials mentioned that new evidence about the older case had come to light, but nobody ever mentioned what that evidence was.” She tapped the folder on the table between them. “I’m assuming that’s what you have here.”
“If you’re expecting a bombshell, this isn’t it. No confessions. No long-lost bloody handprint. No DNA evidence.”
“But enough to send an FBI agent out here to take a look at this cold case.”
“An FBI agent who doesn’t have anything better to do with his career right now.”
“I heard about what happened, Duke. I’m sorry you lost your partner.”
“But we saved the child. Tony, my partner, wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, and I’m not making excuses for our decision. We both went into that warehouse with our eyes wide-open, both knowing the risks. We were willing to take those risks. Believe me, I would’ve taken that bullet instead of Tony if it meant saving the kid.”
“The FBI didn’t blame you.”
“Not exactly, but look at me now.” He spread his arms.
“I’m glad you’re here.” She dredged her tea bag in the hot water. “Is your boss expecting any results out here?”
“Mick always expects results. The Timberline Trio case has been a black eye for the FBI for twenty-five years.”
“Maybe Mickey Tedesco thinks you’re the man to repair that.”
“Doubt it.”
The waitress hovered at the table. “Are you ready to order?”
Duke flipped open the menu. “Haven’t even looked.”
“I’ll go first.” Beth poked at the menu. “I’ll have the oatmeal with brown sugar, nuts, banana...and do you have any berries?”
“Fresh blueberries.”
“That’s fine.”
Duke ordered some French toast and bacon.
When the waitress left, he wrapped his hands around his coffee cup. “I don’t get why you just don’t contact the Brices, tell them your story and get a DNA test done.”
“You know about the Brices, right?”
“That they’re super wealthy? Yeah, I know that.”
“Don’t you think they’d be suspicious of people popping out of the woodwork claiming to be their long-lost daughter? It’s probably happened to them before.”
“You’re already rich. You don’t need their money.”
“I’m hardly in the same league as the Brices. Do you know how much of their wealth my adoptive parents left to charities and foundations, cutting me out?”
“You mentioned that before, but my point is you’re not some pauper trying to cash in on the Brices’ wealth.”
“I couldn’t put them through anything like that based on a hunch.”
“Now it’s a hunch?” He tilted his head. “You were one hundred percent sure last night that you were Heather Brice.”
She linked her fingers together. “It just all makes sense. I can’t explain it to you. Even if Timberline had never experienced those kidnappings, I would’ve been drawn to this town. The fact that a little girl went missing twenty-five years ago only adds to my conviction.”
“I don’t know why I can’t reveal the new evidence. It’s not top secret.” Duke dragged the folder toward him with one finger. “It has to do with drugs—the methamphetamine market, to be exact.”
“Drugs?” Her hand jerked and a splash of hot tea sloshed into her saucer. “What would drugs have to do with a trio of kidnappings?”
“That’s what I’m here to figure out. At the time of the kidnappings, law enforcement wasn’t looking at other illegal activities in the area. The Timberline Sheriff’s Department wasn’t forthcoming about the drug trade to the FBI. Who knows why not? These petty jealousies between the local law and the FBI always crop up in cases like this—most of the time to the detriment of solving the case.”
“So, the FBI discovered that there was a thriving drug trade in Timberline during the investigation of the recent kidnappings.”
“Yep, and we got a lot of our information from Binder, the ex-con on the bike.”
“It’s not hard to imagine he was involved in drugs. Is that what he went away for?”
“He’s been in and out of jail—petty stuff mostly, but what he lacked in quality, he made up for in quantity.”
She traced a finger around the base of her water glass. “Are you thinking some sort of human trafficking for drugs?”
“It’s a possibility.”
Beth shivered. “That’s horrible. Why those children?”
“Could’ve been crimes of opportunity. Those kids were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. A lot of crime is like that.”
“Still not much to go on.”
“I told you—Siberia.” He planted his elbows on the table. “Now tell me what you think you’re going to accomplish. How are you going to figure out if you’re Heather?”
She paused as the waitress delivered their food. “Anything else for you?”
Duke held up his cup. “Hit me again?”
“I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I thought I might just show up here and it would all come back to me.” She swirled a spoonful of brown sugar through her oatmeal without looking up and meeting Duke’s eyes, although she could feel his dark gaze drilling her.
“I’m sorry, Beth.”
She raised her eyes and blinked. “You are?”
“I’m sorry your parents were so cold and distant. I always thought you had it better than I did with your money and private schools and fancy vacations, but you suffered a form of abuse just as surely as I did.”
“I would never compare my life of luxury to what you went through with your father, Duke.”
“At least my mom loved me, even though I couldn’t save her or my sister from that man.”
“Your father and mine were two sides of the same coin, weren’t they?”
“And now you’re driven to find your real family, but what if this journey doesn’t end well?”
“You mean what if I’m not Heather Brice, loved and missed by her family?”
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