by Jane Godman
“I try.” She didn’t elaborate. The charity foundation she had set up for rescued animals was something she didn’t care to talk about too much. She just hoped it was continuing in her absence. “My ultimate ambition is to run an animal sanctuary.” Why had she said that? She had never said that out loud. It made her sound weird.
“Why don’t you?” There it was again, that probing note in his voice that said he had figured out way too much about her for Steffi’s liking.
“Oh, you know.” She decided it was time to lighten the mood. Deflect attention away from this analyze-Steffi thing that Bryce was getting so good at. “Commitments. And now there’s this whole on-the-run, wanted-for-murder thing getting in the way of any future plans. What’s a girl to do?”
Bryce shook his head. “I thought I was good at being armor-plated, but you have it down to a fine art.”
She took his hand and placed it on her breast. “No armor plating here.”
Flames ignited in the dark depths of his eyes. “Nice move, Steffi.” He bent his head and kissed her thoroughly. “That’s one way to bring the confidences to an end.” His hand edged downward from her breast with agonizing slowness. “Just so you know, I’m onto you. I know exactly what lies beneath the tough exterior you show the world.” As his fingertips reached the apex of her thighs, Steffi arched toward him with a soft moan. “And it’s as soft and tender as the sweetest petals of a new blossoming flower.”
* * *
June and Todd Grantham had been unable to have children of their own. They had been kind and understanding toward the adopted daughter who had shared their life. Because they knew about her background, they had understood about the nightmares and the intense shyness that had gradually developed into a need to adopt different roles. When her acting talent had been obvious from an early age, they had done their best to nurture and encourage it.
They had sent Steffi to Russian school on the weekends so she continued to speak her home language and understood her culture. They had even done their best to stay in contact with Greg’s new family, although distance had been a problem, particularly as Greg’s free-spirited parents used their telephone infrequently and tended to be indifferent letter-writers.
It wasn’t her adoptive parents’ fault that Steffi had always been... She searched for the right word—distant was probably too severe. Composed was about the best she could come up with. They had wanted to be able to help her. She hadn’t given them anything to work with.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love them, or that she wasn’t grateful to them. It was just that she felt something in her, that part of her that was able to express love and gratitude, whether verbally or through gestures, was broken. It had died along with her biological parents. She was an actress, so she should be able to act the part of the loving daughter, right? It didn’t work like that. She couldn’t slip into a role when it came to her family. She wouldn’t sell them short that way. If she couldn’t give them genuine, she wouldn’t give them anything.
Now her heart was breaking because she’d let them down. The whole world believed she’d killed Greg, but the whole world paled into insignificance compared to what June and Todd thought. They knew, of course, that she hadn’t killed him. They would know for certain that Steffi could not have killed her brother.
What June and Todd would never be able to understand, and what Steffi couldn’t explain to them, was why she had gone on the run. There were no gray areas in her parents’ lives. Steffi envied them their ability to see the world in black-and-white, but she couldn’t subscribe to it. June worked part-time in a diner, and Todd was a legal assistant in the Sheridan district court. Their lives were all about routine, reliability and duty. When she had called them on that first day of panic after Greg’s murder, she had hoped for reassurance. With hindsight, she should have expected the response she got. June had taken the call and listened to what she told her before calmly and carefully explaining why Steffi had to go to the police. The only thing she could do, her mother had explained, was give herself up.
Even Todd, when he came to the phone, had reiterated the same commonsense argument, although he had offered to meet her and support her. At the time, she had been too distressed to notice his bizarre choice of meeting place, and it was only later that it had struck her as odd. Todd’s voice had been calm and persuasive. She was making it look worse for herself; innocent people didn’t hide from the law. The longer she left it, the more lurid the stories about her in the press would become. Todd had finally uttered the words Steffi had been dreading: What if the story got out about who her real father was? By going on the run, wasn’t she proving that the genes she had inherited from Aleksander meant she was unable to function as a law-abiding citizen? They were all things she had already told herself, but hearing them spoken aloud by Todd made them sound so much worse.
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell them about the man she had seen in the elevator of Greg’s apartment. The one with the tattoo that linked him to the murders of her biological parents. Saying it out loud would make it too real, too nightmarish. Although her parents repeatedly asked where she was and what her plans were, Steffi decided they would be safer if they didn’t know. They had ended the call without either June or Todd asking how she was doing. Not because they didn’t care, just because they didn’t do that level of emotional engagement.
And I guess that’s to do with who I am and the relationship we have...or don’t have. Steffi was under no illusions about where the issues lay. She was the one who didn’t do trust and openness. Even at five years of age, she hadn’t been able to open her heart to this gentle, kind couple. She was the immovable object in this equation. Even so, if at any point she’d opened her heart, she wasn’t sure June and Todd would have been able to respond. We’re well matched. Just not emotional people.
“You have to do this.” Steffi looked up from the cell phone in her hand to find Bryce’s eyes on her face. She had no idea how long she had been sitting on the hotel bed, staring at the blank screen, trying to summon the courage to make the call.
They had discussed this at length the night before. Although Steffi had a vague idea of where Greg’s parents lived, she didn’t have an actual address. And there was a possibility that they could have moved. Steffi knew that June painstakingly sent a card every Christmas. She even occasionally got one in return. Steffi’s own parents were the only link they had with Greg’s. She got the feeling from Bryce’s intent expression that his insistence that she should make this call was about more than finding Nancy and Tanner Spence. He wanted her to be comforted, and assumed the people who could give her the reassurance she needed would be her parents.
Taking a deep breath, she tapped in the landline number she knew by heart. After a few rings, the call was answered by June. At the first sound of her firm, capable voice, Steffi experienced a rush of regret. When she had first arrived in their home, June and Todd had explained that they knew she already had her own mom and dad. They had offered her a choice about what she would like to call them. Steffi had always used their first names.
“Hi, June, it’s Steffi.” Sadly, it was twenty-two years too late to change her mind and do things differently.
* * *
Bryce wandered aimlessly around the bland retail units surrounding the hotel, leaving Steffi to finish her call in private. Her face and voice when she had spoken to her adoptive mother had done something to him that had left him feeling restless in a way he didn’t understand. But that was how Steffi affected him. She awakened emotions in him he’d never felt before, shook him up and left him feeling wrung out and confused.
His own childhood had been filled with love and laughter, the only flaw being his stormy relationship with Vincente. Bryce couldn’t imagine what Steffi’s early life must have been like. To have experienced something as violent as the execution of her parents—even if she hadn’t witnessed the
actual murders—at such a young age was horrific. To have then been separated from the brother she loved had only compounded the trauma. Bryce wondered why the authorities hadn’t done more to keep them together. Admittedly he knew little about such things, but surely there were families out there who would be willing to take a brother and sister who had been through so much?
Bryce thought of his own mother. Sandy Delaney had raised her own two sons and her husband’s son from his first marriage with all the love her big heart could hold. At the same time, she had managed to find plenty of tenderness for every other child she came across. A smile crossed his lips as he remembered the comfortable, family kitchen with his, Cameron’s and Vincente’s friends, all gathered around to enjoy the results of one of Sandy’s marathon baking sessions. Would his mother have turned her back if she had heard of a plight like that endured by Steffi and Greg? He could just picture her now, confronting his father, hands on her hips and that militant, maternal light in her eyes. Clearly, there had been no Sandy Delaney available to step forward for Steffi and Greg.
In the face of everything she had endured, Steffi amazed him. She wasn’t untouched by her experiences, but she had emerged from them with an inner strength and goodness that was remarkable. Even in the early days of knowing her, he had been drawn by her humor and feistiness. Now he knew her better and was able to appreciate the many other layers to her personality.
He wanted to find Greg’s cell phone and hand the recording it contained over to the police so that he could get both their lives back on track. He craved the familiarity of his daily routine in Stillwater. His military career had given him enough danger and uncertainty for one lifetime. But did his desire for normality mean he wanted Steffi out of his life? For the time being Steffi was in his life. She had made her way in there by unconventional means. Snapping and snarling at first, then fighting at his side before melting in his arms. He didn’t know what role she had in his future, even if there was one for her there. But having nothing to do with her when this was over? The thought left him cold, but it was hard to see past the different lives they led and whether this intense physical bond they shared would work long distance or long-term. He guessed it wouldn’t, but the thought left him feeling unaccountably bereft. Steffi had never openly acknowledged that she knew about his PTSD, but he felt she understood. More importantly, she made a difference, helped him keep things in perspective. That wasn’t the only reason he wanted to keep her in his life, but it sure as hell helped.
What bothered him more than anything else right now was that, if Greg’s parents couldn’t help them tomorrow, they had no idea where to go next in their search for that damn phone. Secretly, he thought Steffi was right. If Nancy and Tanner Spence had the phone, they would have handed it over to the police when Greg died. Unless they didn’t know what it contained.
Bryce tried to work out the timescales. The last time they knew for sure Greg had used his phone was the night before his death when he had sent a message to Steffi containing that single, cryptic word and four numbers. Bliss 2713. Sometime between that message and the time of his death, the phone had gone missing.
Bryce could only think of a few scenarios for what had happened to the cell phone in the hours between the sending of the message and the murders. The first was that Greg had hidden it in a place where he knew it would be safe. Steffi had been out that night at an awards ceremony and Greg had a key to her house, so the most likely places to have hidden it were his apartment or at her place. They had drawn a blank at both of those locations and, although they were three months late in their search, they knew that neither the police nor Walter had found the cell phone during that time. If the police had discovered the recording, Walter would be in custody. If Walter had it, he would have no reason to ask Steffi where it was. No reason to keep Steffi alive.
The second possibility was that, in the hours before his death, Greg had mailed the phone to someone he trusted. Bryce had some reservations about that option. It meant Greg must have known he was in immediate danger. Greg had placed himself in danger anyway, by meeting the man who killed his parents and telling him he knew the truth, but perhaps he thought the recording would be his insurance policy. How would Greg have learned of Walter’s intentions toward him? Walter hadn’t advertised the fact that he intended to kill Greg. And, since Greg was with the girl who died alongside him, he’d clearly had plans for what to do with his time that night. If Greg had taken this option, Steffi was the most obvious person to whom he would send the phone. But it had not been in the mail they had searched at her house. That meant that, if this was what had happened to the phone, Greg had to have mailed, or hidden, it elsewhere. If he had sent it to his parents, he must surely have put a note inside it informing them of its significance. Bryce supposed that the contents of that note would dictate their actions.
There were some other possibilities. Greg could have sent, or given, the phone to someone else or put it in a safety deposit box. He could even have emailed the audio file to another person. Someone Steffi knew nothing about. Even, possibly, to an attorney for safekeeping. Once again, Bryce struggled to picture this outcome. Once Greg died, the need for secrecy was at an end...unless that person knew Steffi was in danger. But why hadn’t the mystery person who had the recording come forward and given it to the police? Or tried to contact Steffi?
Unless they had, and the police hadn’t discovered the recording or understood its importance. That would have to be a special kind of irony. That he and Steffi were busting their asses running around trying to find the damn recording when it could be in the right place all the time...but of no use.
Which led him on to a third alternative. There was the possibility that the cell phone was either lost or stolen. That someone cleaning out Greg’s apartment had thrown it out with the trash, or slipped it into his or her pocket. In which case, the recording was gone forever.
Bryce wasn’t going to allow himself to think that way. For the first time since he had returned from Afghanistan, he was going to let optimism play a part in his life. If Greg had even a particle of the same strength and courage as his sister, then that cell phone was going to turn up. And when it did, it would bring down Walter Sullivan.
If they drew a blank with Greg’s parents tomorrow, the only option Bryce could see was to take everything they had and present it to the police. He knew how hard that would be on Steffi. He didn’t want her to have to tell her story to an impersonal, suited detective in a bland, downtown Los Angeles office, or jail cell. His thoughts went to Stillwater and his sister-in-law, Laurie. Thinking of home triggered a reminder...
Damn. He needed to call Vincente, but Steffi had his cell phone.
There was a lanky teenager sweeping up trash outside a fast-food joint. He didn’t even glance up from his task when Bryce sprinted up to him. “Is there a pay phone nearby?”
“Gas station.” The kid pointed without breaking the rhythm of his brush strokes.
When Bryce reached the pay phone, he was pleased to find it worked. Hoping that he remembered the number correctly, Bryce fumbled coins into the slot and waited for Vincente to answer.
“You okay?” It wasn’t so long ago that Bryce had avoided speaking to his half brother. Now the sound of Vincente’s voice, with its note of concern for his welfare, sent a warm rush of comfort straight to his veins.
“Fine. It’s just frustrating not to get anywhere.” He briefly outlined the events of the day, making Vincente laugh with an account of Steffi’s acting ability. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Laurie is here and Cam is on his way. They are going to endure my attempts at Italian cooking.” That was another new development. There was a time when Cameron would never have stepped foot over the threshold of Vincente’s apartment. Mainly because he would never have been invited.
“Put Laurie on.”
“Hey, stranger.” His sister-in-
law’s voice was teasing as she came on the line. “Where did you disappear off to without saying goodbye?”
“Much needed vacation.” Bryce was aware that the words came out too gruff. “I need to ask you something. Some advice, for a friend.”
“Okay.” He could tell by the changed note in her voice, just in that one word, that she knew things were serious. “Ask away.”
“If a crime has been committed, and someone, an innocent person, went on the run because they were scared, can they turn themselves in to any police officer? It doesn’t have to be within the jurisdiction where the crime was committed?”
“Bryce, if you are in trouble...”
“Please, Laurie. I don’t have any more coins.”
“Yes, they can turn themselves in to any police officer.” He heard her draw in a deep breath in Stillwater, felt her concern for him in his ear in San Diego. “Bryce...”
“Thanks, Laurie. Say hi to Cam for me. I love you both.” He replaced the receiver.
Chapter 13
Leucadia was a small, beachfront community located within the coastal city of Encinitas. Unchanged by time, it looked exactly the way Steffi remembered it. The community was vibrant, active and diverse, working hard to maintain its funky reputation. Art galleries, a variety of restaurants, quaint coffee shops, and an abundance of surf and craft shops dotted the streets, but the serious focus was the water and the beach. Surfing was the main activity, with fishing, swimming, sailing and sunbathing also proving popular pastimes.
Steffi felt curiously rejuvenated after her conversation with her parents the night before. It hadn’t been soul-purging and it hadn’t involved tears or deep analysis, but it had been more open than any talk she’d had with them before. It felt like a turning point, like she had finally accepted who she was and who they were. There was no such thing as the perfect family, but they hadn’t done too badly over the years. As strange as it seemed, she felt she had Bryce to thank for setting her straight on that. He had a knack for getting her feelings in perspective, although she wasn’t quite sure how he did it. It was something to do with that no-nonsense aura of his. After the years she had spent living in a world of high-stakes narcissism, his down-to-earth approach made a refreshing change.