In Too Deep

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  “He was angry.” Her mother said the words under her breath. “Yes, he was. But he knew I was right. He never should have brought her into our home. And there was no way I was going to sit by while she gave him another child.”

  “Another . . . ?”

  “She was pregnant.”

  “I have a sibling?”

  “Theoretically, yes.”

  Sabrina tried to process everything she’d heard. She wasn’t used to feeling overwhelmed by information, but this time she was. Images from her childhood—her father talking to Rosita in the hall, her mother, well, her adoptive mother, berating her over her clothes, Rosita snuggling with her when she was afraid of a thunderstorm. She scanned through moment after moment, and all of them looked different in light of this new information.

  A fresh ache engulfed her as she thought about all the anger she’d felt toward Rosita after she left. She’d been so hurt. So upset.

  So wrong about everything.

  Not that it was her fault, but had she missed some clues? Probably. But apparently even as an adult it was easier for her to suspect her parents of keeping Rosita as a slave than to imagine a completely different scenario.

  Her heart hurt. Her mind whirled. And a sibling? She might have a brother or sister somewhere out there? What would that be like? Would she ever find them?

  If she did, would they want to know her?

  Maybe. Maybe not. Because she still hadn’t gotten to the one question she’d always wanted the answer to.

  Sabrina looked out the window and for the first time in forever felt peace that now was the time to ask. “For the past decade, I’ve suspected you and Dad kept Rosita as a slave.”

  Her mother laced her fingers in front of her and sighed. “I guess in a manner of speaking we did.”

  She was admitting it?

  “I still don’t know how your father met Rosita. And I don’t have proof, nor did he ever admit it to me, but it is my belief that he got her pregnant around the same time I got pregnant. I have no idea what he intended to do had our daughter lived, but when we lost her, he must have seen it as an opportunity to keep you in his life. And of course he would hire your own mother to take care of you.”

  “He hired Rosita?”

  “He did everything. I was so weak from blood loss and grief. He was the one who set up the adoption and hired Rosita. He said he was trying to make it as easy as possible for me. I actually believed him at the time.”

  “This is messed up,” Sabrina said.

  “It is,” her mother agreed. “Because as far as I know, my adoption of you was completely legal. I saw the paperwork where your birth mother signed over her parental rights to me. Assuming I’m correct in my theory of events, your father was technically your father twice. By birth and by adoption.”

  Sabrina’s mind scrambled to pull together the threads of this crazy story and make them make sense.

  “So Rosita signed over her parental rights to you, allowed you to adopt me, then came to work for you to take care of me?”

  “Yes. And I don’t know what sort of pressure she was under that enticed her to do that. But once it was done, she was effectively a slave in our home. Because I’m certain she would never have willingly left you. Not when you were a baby.”

  “But she left me when I was ten.”

  Her mother dropped her head. “I didn’t give her much choice.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I threatened to have her deported. But since you were legally mine, you would have stayed with me no matter what. I knew she would have done anything to stay in the States. Even if it meant leaving you for a time. To be honest, I never expected her to go far. I figured your father would set her up somewhere, and when you turned eighteen she would come back into your life and the whole thing would be out in the open.”

  “But she never came back.”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “Do you know where she is?” Sabrina held her breath.

  “No. I haven’t seen her since the day she walked out the door. And if your father knew where she was or what happened to her, he took it to the grave.”

  “Did you ever ask him?”

  Her mother sat on the sofa across from her. “No. I didn’t. I threw myself into my work and tried to pretend none of it had ever happened. And I know you won’t believe this, but I am . . . sorry, Sabrina. Truly I am. I know this is a shock, and I know it’s a lot to come to terms with. I’ve had decades to deal with it and it still sometimes shakes me to my core.”

  Sabrina couldn’t sit still any longer. “I need some air.” She ran out the door and into the yard. If she’d had anything of substance to eat this morning, she would have hurled it into the bushes. As it was, she paced around the front yard.

  Rosita was her mother.

  Her father was her father.

  Her mother wasn’t her mother.

  She may have a sibling.

  Rosita left her.

  And she never came back.

  31

  Why don’t you let me drive?” Ryan grabbed Adam’s arm and pulled him toward his own vehicle.

  “I can drive.”

  “You can, but you shouldn’t. You’re tired and distracted and worried. All understandable under the circumstances. But all good reasons to let me drive. It doesn’t do you any good to try to swoop in and save the day if you wreck the car on the way.”

  It annoyed Adam that Ryan was right. “Fine.” They climbed into Ryan’s truck. “While you drive, help me think this through. What are we dealing with here? Is she still in danger? Because if the guy from the dressing room was her brother—a brother she didn’t know had existed—and if he’s the one who tried to kill her at her house on Monday, then the attacks had nothing to do with our case. And Anissa killed the guy who was trying to kill Sabrina. So it’s possible the danger has passed.”

  “True,” Ryan said, “but we don’t know why he was trying to kill her. So maybe the danger is still very real.”

  “Drive faster.”

  Sabrina lived twenty minutes away, and a lot could happen in twenty minutes.

  A lot of very bad things.

  He’d snuck around to the back of the house and come in through the kitchen in time to hear everything.

  He’d always wondered how much Yvonne knew. Martin thought she’d been clueless.

  Guess this proved how clueless Martin had been.

  He’d been waiting for ten minutes for Sabrina to come back inside. Yvonne hadn’t moved from the sofa. She looked beaten. And weary.

  Not surprising really.

  The door opened and from his spot he saw Sabrina return to the den, where Yvonne was waiting.

  “I’m going to need some time to process all of this,” she said to Yvonne.

  Funny how she didn’t seem angry. She seemed sad.

  He’d expected more rage.

  Oh well.

  “I left my phone at the house. Do you want to stay here and see if there’s anything you want, or do you want to come with me?”

  What? No. She couldn’t go back to the house. He needed her to stay here.

  “If I stay, will you come back?” Why did Yvonne even care?

  “Yes.” Sabrina spoke in a measured voice. Like she was determined not to lose her temper or start crying. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions.”

  He stepped into the den, gun drawn. “I’m sure you do,” he said. “But I’m afraid you won’t be going anywhere. Have a seat.”

  “Mr. Kemp?”

  “Ezekiel?”

  Both women spoke with the same confused tone.

  Sabrina turned to Yvonne. “How do you know Mr. Kemp?”

  Yvonne glared at him. “Ezekiel is my fiancé.”

  “You’re going to marry Dad’s lawyer?”

  The shock on Yvonne’s face was worth the annoyance of letting these two thorns in his side chitchat. Way better than taking them out with the tear gas before shooting them. “His . . . what
?”

  “Mr. Kemp is Dad’s lawyer. The one he hired after he was diagnosed with dementia. The one who rewrote the wills and is the executor of my trust.” Sabrina was furious, and she turned on him now. “Dad trusted you.”

  “Your father no more trusted me than he trusted Yvonne here to be fair to you after he died. I’ve known him since before you were born, and he never trusted anyone.”

  “Before I was born? I thought he hired you a few years ago.”

  “He hired me for the second time a few years ago.”

  Yvonne’s hand was at her throat. “You handled the adoption.”

  “Very good. I would clap, but my hands are full. Now, Sabrina, I’ve asked you to sit. Side by side on the sofa. That’s nice.”

  She sat, But Sabrina—typical Sabrina—had more questions. “You handled the adoption? Then you knew Rosita. You knew the whole story. Was she really my mother? What happened to her?”

  He should have shot her by now, but he was kind of enjoying the way their faces registered their surprise and then the moment when they understood. It was fascinating.

  “Of course she was your mother. Yvonne’s no idiot. And yes, she was pregnant when Yvonne here kicked her out. She left out the part where she’d made Rosita believe she would hurt you”—he pointed at Sabrina—“if she didn’t leave. It was a very effective strategy. If Rosita took you with her, the police would eventually arrest her for kidnapping and no one was going to believe an illegal immigrant when she claimed you were her biological daughter.

  “But if she stayed with you, Yvonne here promised her you would be a very sick child—a little something in your breakfast smoothie to make you vomit. A little shove down the stairs. Maybe a loose wheel on that bicycle you loved so much. Rosita couldn’t risk having you harmed.”

  Sabrina looked at Yvonne with fresh shock. “How could you do that?”

  Yvonne defended herself. Typical. “I would never have harmed you. It was a threat. And it worked.”

  “Oh, it worked all right. She was terrified. Left town and never looked back.” Ezekiel was enjoying this far more than he’d expected.

  “Do you know what happened to her?” Sabrina’s eyes darted around the room. He needed to speed this up before the little brainiac figured a way out of there.

  “She moved to Wisconsin. Got a job working in housekeeping. Had the boy. His name was Juan.”

  “Was?”

  She didn’t know. This would be fun.

  “Juan has been looking for you for the past five years,” he told Sabrina. “His mother told him everything—on her deathbed.”

  “She died?”

  He’d expected more emotion from Sabrina. Maybe she needed a few more details. “Cancer. No money for health care. I mean, you have to appreciate the irony. Your birth mother dies from a cancer people survive all the time when they go to the hospitals your adoptive mother manages. It’s sad, really.”

  Sabrina didn’t acknowledge him. She barely seemed to be paying attention to him at all. Yvonne was paying attention though. “Why did it take Rosita’s son five years to find Sabrina?”

  “It’s possible he got some misinformation that led him in the wrong direction.”

  “You lied to the boy?”

  “I was protecting my client from spurious claims.”

  Yvonne was tracking with him. “You were protecting Martin’s money.”

  “Of course I was.”

  “And that’s what this is all about.”

  “Of course it is.”

  “So what’s your plan? Kill us? That won’t help you.”

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But if you both die, the trust in Sabrina’s name remains under my execution. My plan was to let Juan do my dirty work for me with this one”—he pointed to Sabrina—“and then once I was married to you, my dear, well, what’s yours would be mine. And when you died, tragically, in a few months, well, it would all be mine.”

  “You’d kill us over a few thousand dollars?” Sabrina still wasn’t looking at him, but she must have been listening more than he’d realized.

  “No. Of course not. But I would kill you over several million.”

  “Million?” Yvonne shook her head. “Martin never had millions.”

  “Not when he was with you. But years ago Martin’s father sold some land to the town they lived in. And he was smart about it. He sold the center of the property but kept acres around the perimeter. The area has grown and that property is worth a fortune now. Martin negotiated the sale of a huge chunk of property before he lost his mind. The money is in a trust for Sabrina and Juan. Of course, now that Sabrina’s friend took care of her brother, I won’t have to worry about divvying up any of that cash.”

  “My friend did what?” Sabrina asked.

  “Your friend. The girl cop. She killed your brother.”

  “He was my brother?”

  Oh yes. The expressions on both of their faces. He would never forget them. So worth telling them.

  “What? Wait. Was he the same one who attacked me?”

  “Now you’re putting it together. He wanted to take care of you himself, and I was fine with that, but then he panicked at the first sound of a siren and didn’t finish the job. It made things much more complicated.”

  “But why was he trying to kill me? What had I ever done to him?”

  “The version he heard was that you knew about him and wanted nothing to do with him, and you’d convinced your father to cut him from his will. The only way he would be able to get anything from your father’s estate was to take you out of the picture.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sabrina said. “If he’d come to me and told me he was my brother, even if I didn’t believe him, it wouldn’t have taken more than a simple blood test to prove paternity. And I had no interest in Dad’s money. I wouldn’t have minded sharing it.”

  “True, but he didn’t know that. He blamed you for his mother’s death and his own poverty. You were the favored child and he was the castoff. He was more than willing to take you out.”

  32

  Ryan and Adam arrived at Sabrina’s home thirteen minutes later.

  “That was some great driving,” Adam said. “Thanks.”

  They parked beside the Suburban. “I guess this is what her mom’s driving,” Adam said. “Nice.”

  Ryan pointed to the house. “I’ll take the back.”

  Adam waited until Ryan was behind the house and knocked on Sabrina’s door.

  No answer.

  He knocked again.

  Still no answer.

  He tried the door. Locked.

  He pulled his key ring from his pocket.

  Ryan emerged from the other side. “Dude, you have a key to her place? That’s moving awfully fast.”

  “It’s not like that.” He slid the key into the lock and braced himself for what he might find. He opened the door and entered quickly. Ryan was on his heels.

  Adam went right. “Clear.”

  Ryan went left. “Clear.”

  Sabrina’s phone was on the counter beside her laptop.

  But where was she?

  The whole time Mr. Kemp was talking, Sabrina was pressing down her panic and shoving aside the pain and confusion. There would be time for emotions later. But only if she could get them out of this—and the only way she could do that was to outsmart this guy. He was wearing gloves and was draped in plastic. She suspected he had a plan to stage a murder-suicide. Or maybe a double homicide with the mysterious assailant remaining at large.

  She studied the room, looking for a way out. Something that would help her. The problem was that there wasn’t anything she could use as a weapon. There were lots of books and knickknacks but nothing sharp.

  The caregivers had hidden everything that could be considered dangerous to protect Dad and themselves.

  What she wouldn’t give for an antique letter opener right about now.

  “So you think by killing us, you’ll get access to the money?�
�� Her mom seemed skeptical.

  “I know I will. I’ve been working on this plan for over three years. It’s solid.”

  “And where did proposing to me fit into this solid plan of yours? Why not just kill me?” Her mom really did seem sad.

  “I’m thorough,” he said. “It’s what has kept me in business all these years. I don’t leave loose ends. I think of every contingency. Keeping you close gave me access to your files, passwords, and records. And helped me be absolutely certain that you had no idea what my role in your life had been.”

  He sighed. “And now it’s time for that to come to an end.”

  Her mother gripped her hand. “I’m truly sorry, Sabrina.”

  33

  It had taken Adam and Ryan ten seconds to decide to call in the cavalry. Sabrina never went anywhere without a phone or a computer.

  “It’s possible they went for a walk,” Ryan said.

  “It is.”

  “I’ll take the heat if we’re wrong.”

  They opened the gate to the drive so it would be accessible when their backup arrived and drove as far as they could, leaving Ryan’s truck on the side of the driveway, hidden in the trees.

  “I’ve never been in the house,” Adam said.

  “Well, lucky for you, I have. Come on.” Ryan took off through the woods.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Around back. There’s a back entrance the caregivers used—it has a keypad. Sabrina gave me the code when we were checking the house last week.”

  “Great.”

  It took them five agonizing minutes to get to the back door, and there was no way to know if they’d been seen. Or for that matter if there was anyone to see.

  “Will the door set off a chime when we open it?” Adam scanned the area as Ryan punched in the code.

  “I don’t remember. We should assume that it will. Ready?”

  Sabrina couldn’t believe any of this was happening.

  From the very beginning of her existence, this man—Mr. Kemp, if that was even his real name—had been an unseen force for evil and now he was going to end her life before she could live it. She wasn’t afraid to die. But she wasn’t sure if her mother—adoptive mother—was ready for eternity. She wanted to have the opportunity to show her what forgiveness and grace looked like. Assuming she could manage to give it.