by Laura Scott
Hank tossed them both a look full of skepticism.
“Honestly, we were,” Shanna spoke up earnestly. “I know we need the FBI to help find Skylar, and you must realize how badly I want to find my sister.”
“Okay, okay,” Hank said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Quit groveling already. I’ll make the call to the feds, but you both have to promise me to stay out of this from now on. We can’t work this case in a vacuum.”
“But—” Shanna started, and he grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed it as a warning to keep quiet.
There was a sharp knock at the door and Hank turned around. “Yeah?” he called.
The door opened and Craig poked his head in. “Murphy, you’re not going to believe this. We matched Matthews’s fingerprints to one of your open cases.”
One of his open cases? “Which one?”
Craig pushed the door open and tossed some papers onto the table in front of Quinn. “Remember that robbery at the Corner Café a few months ago?”
“Yeah. I remember.” The night was etched in his mind as one of the few times in his job as a campus cop that he’d been forced to fire his gun. “The suspect got away, and we found his escape vehicle, which happened to be stolen, a few miles from the café.”
“Yeah, and when we recovered the gun and the car, we found a partial print on the steering wheel. The print matches your drug-dealing suspect, Derek Matthews.”
Quinn frowned. “Matthews has a record. We didn’t match him earlier?”
“We did, but we’d canvassed the area without anyone claiming to recognize him,” Craig explained. “Now that he’s been brought in for possession, we can hold him on the armed-robbery charge, too.”
Quinn was glad of that, since the young girl behind the counter at the café, who’d looked tough with her purple-streaked hair and her eyebrow piercing, had been badly shaken after the robbery. He remembered far too clearly how she’d broken down and sobbed on his shoulder.
“He’s going back to prison for sure this time,” Craig said with satisfaction.
“That’s good,” Quinn murmured. Glancing down at the police report, a familiar name jumped out at him, and he stared down in amazement. The name of the victim, the girl with the purple-streaked hair who’d been robbed at gunpoint by Derek Matthews, had the same first name as their mystery girl.
Phoebe Fontaine.
TWELVE
Quinn dragged his gaze from Phoebe’s name on the police report to look at Shanna. He wanted to let her know he might have found their mystery girl, but truthfully he wasn’t even sure Phoebe was still working at the Corner Café. Although with a last name, they should be able to find a last known address.
He didn’t say anything out loud, though, because while he understood Hank’s desire to take the lead in the investigation, he wanted to follow up on this lead himself. They’d already given Hank everything they had, including Kyle’s claim that Anna was jealous of how Brady was supposedly “flirting” with a girl named Phoebe.
Hank was going to get the feds involved, which was good because the FBI had a better chance of following up on all adoptions handled through the New Beginnings Adoption Agency. And with Dennis Green matching the photo of missing four-year-old Kenny Larson, there was a good chance his brother’s murder was linked to his proposed newspaper article.
For some reason, he wanted to give Shanna a chance to see Phoebe first, meet with her, talk to her. They’d already decided that it was hardly likely that Phoebe was really Skylar, but he wanted to make sure before he turned the information over to Hank and the feds.
“Quinn? Anything else you want to add?” Hank asked.
He dragged his attention back to the current discussion. “I’m sorry, what was the question?”
Hank gave an exasperated sigh. “We’re going to start following up on the Dennis Green/Kenny Larson angle, and call the feds to see where they want to go from here. Do you agree with the plan?”
His approval wasn’t necessary; Hank could really do whatever he wanted, but Quinn appreciated being allowed to participate. “I think it’s a good plan,” he said, glancing at Shanna. “We desperately want to find Shanna’s missing sister, Skylar.”
“And we want to know who killed Brady,” Shanna added.
“Don’t worry, the more pieces to the puzzle we uncover, the more likely we’ll find the missing links,” Hank assured her.
“If you don’t need anything more from us, we’d like to get going,” Quinn said, rising to his feet. “We’ve missed lunch, and I don’t know about Shanna, but I can’t think clearly on an empty stomach.”
Hank’s gaze narrowed suspiciously, but then he slowly nodded. “We’re finished here, but if anything else happens I want you to call me ASAP.”
“We will,” Shanna assured him.
Quinn took her hand as they strolled outside, crossing the street to the parking lot where he’d left his car. After they were both seated inside, he started the car and looked at Shanna. “I think I found Phoebe.”
Her blue eyes widened in shock. “What? When? How?”
“She works at the Corner Café, or at least she did at the time of the robbery.” He backed out of the parking space and then took a right-hand turn, heading toward the café. “Phoebe Fontaine was the girl working behind the counter the night Derek Matthews tried to rob her.”
“Thank You, God,” Shanna whispered reverently. “I’ve been praying we’d find her.”
“Shanna, don’t get your hopes up too high,” he cautioned as he took a left at the next stoplight. “We don’t know that Phoebe is adopted, and we certainly don’t know that she’s Skylar.”
Shanna nodded quickly, but he could still see the frank hope reflected in her eyes. “I know, Quinn. Trust me—I do realize that this is a total stretch. But what if she is Skylar? What if today is the day I’m going to find my missing sister?”
Luckily, he managed to find a parking spot just a couple of blocks down from the Corner Café. He turned off the engine and twisted in the seat to face Shanna. “I’ll be thrilled if you do find your missing sister. Before we go inside, though, you need to know how Phoebe looked the last time I saw her.”
Shanna’s smile evaporated and she clasped her hands together tightly in her lap. “What do you mean how she looked? Is she in trouble? On drugs? In an abusive relationship? What?”
“No, Shanna, she was physically fine, from what I could tell. Shaken after being held up at gunpoint, but fine.”
She let out an audible sigh of relief. “Well, what are you talking about then?”
“Just that she doesn’t have the sweet, girl-next-door look. Phoebe has dark hair heavily streaked with purple and an eyebrow piercing.”
Shanna hiked her eyebrows upward. “So what? Do you think I care if she has purple hair or facial piercings? If she’s my sister, I’ll accept her no matter how she looks.”
He grinned with relief. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”
Shanna was so excited, she wanted to sprint at full speed rather than walk calmly beside Quinn as they followed the sidewalk to the Corner Café.
She took several deep breaths, reminding herself that it was far more likely that Phoebe wasn’t Skylar. But even a one percent chance was better than nothing.
They walked inside the café, which was surprisingly crowded. Going from the bright sunlight outside to the darker interior of the café momentarily blinded her. She stood for several seconds until her eyes adjusted to less light.
“Do you see her?” she asked in a low tone, searching for anyone with purple-streaked hair. Although for all they knew, Phoebe could have changed to blue or green streaks, or none at all. If she’d turned blonde, would Quinn still recognize her?
“Not yet, but let’s find a seat first,” Quinn answered, sweeping the area with his gaze.
Shanna noticed two girls rising to their feet from a small table near the back of the café. She darted around several students standing and talking to snatch th
e vacant table.
Quinn followed her but didn’t sit down. “What would you like?” he asked. “Are you hungry? They have some muffins and other baked goods for sale, too.”
“Coffee and a muffin would be great.”
Quinn stood in line, and she watched the two girls behind the counter closely, searching for any possible similarities to Skylar.
It wasn’t easy to get a good look though, since there were so many people milling about the café, and the two counter attendants kept turning their backs to fill orders. She should have offered to go up for the coffee and muffins.
Quinn returned five minutes later with their order. Before she could open her mouth to ask, he shook his head. “No, Phoebe isn’t working right now. She’s due to come in at four o’clock.”
“Four o’clock?” she echoed with a stab of disappointment. “That’s over an hour from now.”
“I know,” Quinn said as he sat down in the chair across from hers. “But we’re probably better off waiting here. Unless you have a better idea?”
“No, I don’t have a better idea,” she admitted.
Quinn quickly unwrapped his muffin and then hesitated, glancing up at her. “We should pray first, right?”
She laughed, the tension easing out of her chest. She should know better than to try and rush God’s plan. She’d find Skylar when God intended, and not before. “Yes, we should.”
He reached over to take her hand and then bowed his head. She held his hand and closed her eyes, praying in a low voice just loud enough for Quinn to hear. “Dear Lord, thank You for providing us food to eat, and please keep us safe and show us the path You want us to take. We also ask that You continue to keep Skylar safe in Your care. Amen.”
“Amen,” Quinn echoed.
“Next time, it’s your turn to provide the prayer,” she teased as she removed the cellophane from her muffin. They weren’t freshly baked, but she was so hungry she didn’t care. And the muffins were surprisingly good.
“I’ll try,” he said hesitantly. “But I still have a lot to learn.”
“You’ll be fine.” She paused, glancing around the café. “We probably should have told Hank we were coming here,” she murmured before taking a sip of her coffee. “I don’t think he’s very happy with us.”
Quinn shrugged. “Look, Shanna, we don’t know that Phoebe has anything to do with Brady’s murder or the mystery surrounding your sister’s disappearance. As soon as we know something, I promise to call Hank. Besides, we did tell him about Kyle Ryker’s accusations regarding Anna being upset with Brady for flirting with Phoebe, remember?”
“Yes, but we didn’t tell him Phoebe works here at the Corner Café.”
“We didn’t know that for sure until we came and asked for her,” Quinn pointed out. “She could have easily quit her job here after being held up at gunpoint.”
“True,” she admitted with a frown. “I wonder why she stayed? This can’t be the only job around. And since she’s not enrolled in any classes, she wouldn’t be limited to something on campus. And surely her parents would have encouraged her to find something different, don’t you think?”
“Yes, assuming her parents knew about the incident.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She didn’t want to think about Phoebe being estranged from her parents. Guiltily, she realized that the main reason she didn’t want to believe Phoebe was estranged from her parents was because she believed Phoebe could be Skylar.
“Don’t look now, but Anna and Maggie just walked in,” Quinn said in a low, urgent tone.
She almost turned to look, despite his warning not to. Keeping her gaze on his, she leaned toward him. “Should we go over to talk to them?” she asked.
“I don’t want to scare Anna off again, but I would like to talk to her,” Quinn admitted.
From the corner of her eye, she could see both girls, Maggie and a brunette who she assumed was Anna, standing in line at the counter. “If we’re going to talk to them, we should head over by the door so Anna can’t take off running again.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” he admitted. “Let’s wait until they’ve placed their order.”
The next three minutes passed with excruciating slowness. It was hard not to stare at Maggie and Anna, so she kept her eyes locked on Quinn’s.
Finally he rose smoothly to his feet, and she quickly followed him as he made his way through the cramped maze of tables to the front door.
Once Maggie and Anna had their respective coffees, they turned to walk toward the door. The shocked expression on Maggie’s and Anna’s faces and the way they stopped abruptly was almost comical.
Maggie was the first to recover, but the terrified expression on Anna’s face tugged at her heart. What on earth caused the girl to be so afraid? Instinctively, Shanna stepped forward in an attempt to reassure her. “Please don’t panic, Anna. We just want to talk to you. I promise you’re not in trouble or anything. We just have a few questions.”
“Just talk to them, Anna,” Maggie urged with obvious exasperation. “They’ll find you eventually anyway.”
“I already gave my statement to the police. I don’t have anything more to tell you,” Anna argued with a dark scowl. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Something was off; the fear radiating from the girl was nearly palpable. “What’s wrong, Anna? Is someone bothering you? What are you so afraid of?”
Anna didn’t answer, but the slight flicker in her gaze gave her away.
“We shouldn’t talk here,” Quinn pointed out, as a few café patrons were beginning to watch them with interest. He stared at Anna. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said conversationally. “We can go outside and talk in private, or I can arrest you now and we can talk down at the station. Your choice. And know this—if we go outside and you take off running, the latter option automatically takes precedence.”
“Come on, Anna,” Maggie urged. “Let’s just get this over with, okay?”
“Fine.” Anna angled her chin stubbornly and waited for Quinn to hold the door open before moving past them to go outside. For a moment, the girl’s stubbornness reminded Shanna of how she was at that age.
Could Anna be Skylar? The hair color was right, as was the age. Her pulse kicked into high gear at the possibility.
But once they were outside, standing alongside the brick building of the café, she realized Anna’s eyes were a greenish hazel, not brown. No colored contacts, either. Her heart sank like a rock.
“So what do you want to know?” Anna demanded. Her spunk in the face of her earlier fear was admirable.
“You come to this café often?” Quinn asked casually.
Anna shrugged. “Sometimes, why?”
“You must know Phoebe then, right?” Quinn asked again.
Anna’s mouth thinned. “No, I don’t know her. I heard she works here, but I could care less about that.”
“Really? You didn’t care that Brady spent so much time hanging out here?” Quinn pressed.
“Not really,” Anna said, although the guarded expression in her eyes made Shanna think the girl did mind, very much. “I don’t care what you’ve heard. I know Brady loved me.”
Love? A pretty strong word for a twenty-year-old. “I’m sure he did care about you,” Shanna said with a smile. “Which is why it makes perfect sense that you’d be upset to find out he was flirting with someone else.”
Anna refused to acknowledge the obvious. “You can believe whatever you want. I don’t care.”
“So what happened last night?” Quinn asked, changing the subject. “Why did you take off running when you saw us?”
“I wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated,” Anna shot back. “Why is it so hard for you to understand I just want to be left alone?”
“Anna, why don’t you tell them?” Maggie asked in a low tone. “He’s a cop. Maybe he can help.”
Shanna glanced at Quinn, who looked as puzzled as she felt. “Anna, what’s w
rong? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Anna said, shrugging off Maggie’s hand.
“Some old guy was bothering her,” Maggie announced. “That’s why she’s been trying to stay low-key.”
A chill snaked down Shanna’s back. Could the old guy bothering Anna be the same guy who’d been stalking her? And if so, why?
“It’s nothing,” Anna insisted. “I haven’t seen him in a week. It was probably just my imagination anyway.”
“Can you give me a description?” Quinn asked, a frown furrowing his brow.
Anna shrugged. “Not very tall, about five feet ten inches with gray hair.”
“Could you work with a sketch artist, maybe?” Shanna suggested.
“No, I didn’t really get a good look at him. Besides, I told you, I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Where do you work?” Shanna persisted.
“At the Olive Grove restaurant,” Maggie supplied on her friend’s behalf. “She’s a hostess there during the week.”
“Lately, I’ve only been working a couple of shifts each week,” Anna admitted. “Because of the rehearsals and the play.”
“You’re sure you can’t give us any more description of the guy following you?” Quinn asked. “I’m sure.”
Shanna caught Quinn’s gaze and shrugged. She didn’t know what else to do to encourage the young woman to open up.
“Can I go now?” Anna asked. “My coffee’s getting cold.”
“Yes. But Anna, if you see that old guy following you again, will you please call me?” Quinn took out his wallet, extracted a business card and handed one to Anna. “Please? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Anna took Quinn’s card with obvious reluctance. “All right,” she agreed slowly. “If I see Creepy Guy again, I’ll call you.”
“Thanks,” Quinn murmured.
Shanna watched thoughtfully as Maggie and Anna hurried away. “Do you think it’s possible we have the same stalker?”
“Anything is possible,” Quinn responded grimly. “But it’s weird that he’d leave you notes and break into your home to attack you while doing nothing more than following Anna around.”