by Renee Roman
“Hello.”
“Well?” Lisa asked.
“Well what?”
“Did you do it?”
“No,” Sarah said.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“No, but…I’m trying to find the right one.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
The tease in Lisa’s voice eased the tension in her shoulders, and she laughed. “I honestly don’t know. Dartboard? Name out of a hat?” She chewed on her lower lip. “It should be easy, right?”
“Honey, if I’ve learned one lesson in life it’s that nothing is easy, except love.” Lisa certainly had a way of stating the obvious. “Knowing you, you probably have a spreadsheet with details and plot points.”
“I do not.” Sarah tried to sound offended, but how could she be? Making a spreadsheet was her next option.
“Oh, I called too soon in the process.” Lisa’s laugh was infectious.
Sarah tapped her pencil on the paper in front of her where she’d written the names of investigators specializing in civil matters and missing persons. “There’s more than I thought there would be.”
“That’s kinda sad.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to leave you to it then.”
Lisa was silent for so long Sarah checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t lost the connection before Lisa spoke again.
“Sarah. Trust your gut. You’ve got good instincts. Let them do the work. I’ll check back later. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She glanced from the screen to the list and back again. Trust my gut. At this point, what choice did she have?
* * *
I should hire a bookkeeper. Cam slit open envelopes and stacked them in a neat pile. It was time to pay the bills that kept her business going. From the first day she’d opened the doors until today, she’d taken on the additional duties of all the financial transactions. Balancing the books in and of itself could be quite a feat, especially the months when business was a little slow. Since she’d hired Kevin, there was even more to do, and it was beginning to eat into her investigative time. Maggie could handle the extra workload, but she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else privy to the books except for her.
The pinging of her email notification drew her attention away from the ledger she was bent over. She should ignore it and finish what she was doing since she’d put it off long enough, but the subject line glaring at her refused to go away. It simply stated, “Lost Twin.” Who the hell loses a twin?
“This ought to be good,” she mumbled as she pushed the papers out of her way and pulled the keyboard in front of her.
The email from Sarah Peters explained she and her twin had been separated shortly after birth and adopted by different parents. Her own adoptive parents were both gone, and she wanted more information about the brother she never knew. Interesting. Cam finished reading the rest and checked her date book. She had a meeting scheduled with a forensic accountant on Wednesday, the information from which would most likely lead to her finding an embezzler or an outright theft of company assets. Fairly straightforward since all she had to do was follow the money. She could always get Kevin to help. It wouldn’t hurt to talk with the woman and get the details.
“Mags, would you please set up an appointment this week for Ms. Sarah Peters? Her contact info is in your mailbox. The sooner the better.”
“Got it. What do you want for lunch today?”
“Anything but pizza. You pick.” The influx of cases gave her an appetite. The tiny hairs at the nape of her neck tingled. She’d been in a bit of a slump of late, unexcited about the same old cases. She was tired of cheating spouses and disability frauds. This would be a new vein to follow. Even though Ms. Peters had stated it was a missing person case, it really wasn’t. If she didn’t know her brother existed, he wasn’t missing, he’d never been found. She wondered if Peters had considered she might not be happy with the results.
Chapter Three
Sarah flipped back her shield, removed her gloves, then wiped her brow. She looked over the intersecting steel beams in front of her to make sure the weld was smooth. She didn’t like sloppy work, but she wasn’t really concentrating on the job and her thoughts had gravitated to the email she’d sent last night, wondering when or if she’d ever get a response. It would be just her luck that the investigator she’d chosen was a front for some illegal operation and she’d never hear from Camdyn Stark, the owner of Stark Revelations.
She had to admit, it was a catchy name for the business, though it seemed a little egocentric. She’d also tried to do a little detective work of her own by googling the owner’s name but had found very little except that Camdyn was a woman. There were several testimonies from clients, all anonymous, who praised the agency with pulling off near impossible investigations. Of course, there wasn’t any way for her to verify they were legitimate, but still…she’d been inexplicably drawn to the picture of Camdyn. Her long dark hair and confident smile were hard to ignore. Maybe it was the uncommon name. Or it was simple fatigue from looking at one screen page after another, though she didn’t believe that was the reason either. Whatever had made her stop at that particular agency was of little consequence. The important thing was that she’d settled on one and sent a request asking for a face-to-face meeting. There wasn’t any way she could explain her circumstances in an impersonal email. Not if she were going to trust someone with a matter that could change the course of her life, for good or bad, she wanted to look that person in the eye and see what they were made of. If Camdyn didn’t take her seriously or acted disinterested, she’d know. She always knew the sincerity of a person by their gestures and the look in their eyes. She trusted her intuition and the inner voice that guided her. Her parents never doubted her abilities to overcome any obstacle, and she saw no shame in asking for help when she needed it. This was one of those times. All she could do was wait.
* * *
“Ms. Peters, if I understood your email correctly, you’re looking for your twin. And as far as you know, you were both adopted when you were babies. You had no idea your brother even existed until a few days ago. Is that correct?” Cam asked.
Sarah looked at her expectantly. “Yes. Exactly,” she said before leaning forward. “I was adopted right away, but it’s entirely possible he stayed in the system, right?” She dug around in her bag. “This is a copy of the letter my mother—”
“Your birth mother?” Cam was confused.
“Sorry. Adoptive mother. She mentions the name Mary and the sign over my bassinet was Baby Girl Jones.” Sarah pushed the document toward her. “Do you think you can find him?”
She was pretty with expressive eyes though she didn’t have a clue. The thought of tracking down someone who was most likely lost in the proverbial rat maze of adoption agencies, not to mention Social Services, made her think twice. She’d glossed over a couple of details on her initial read through, and now Cam regretted having been so anxious to work on something new. She glanced back up to meet Sarah’s hopeful regard, and Cam sighed inwardly. She wasn’t easily persuaded.
“Are you sure you want to find him? Sometimes people stay hidden for a reason.” The minute her words left her mouth, Sarah’s demeanor changed.
“If that’s code for you not being interested in helping me, just say so. I don’t want to waste your time or mine.” Sarah gathered the oversized sack that probably carried everything she might need in the event of an apocalypse, then slung it over her shoulder as she stood.
Cam couldn’t ignore the niggling feeling in her gut. The one that told her even if she wanted to drop this case and say good-bye to the soon-to-be client with fire in her eyes, it wasn’t an option. She rose to her feet.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take the case, Ms. Peters. I just want to be sure you’re aware of what might happen.” She gestured for Sarah to sit down again.
Sarah stared at her so long the scrutiny verged on uncomforta
ble. She refused to succumb to the urge to squirm.
“Fine, just so long as you’re as committed as I am to finding him.” A look of longing crossed her face, dampening the earlier flame.
Cam fought the sudden tug on her heart. It would be a mistake to feel bad for Sarah. She was a client. She needed to remember that point. Her default barrier came up. “You’ll get your money’s worth.” The sarcasm sounded harsh and unnecessary, but she blew it off. She was who she was, and the circumstances of the case rubbed her in a way that brought up her own unsavory past. The Peters woman could hire her or not. Either way she’d survive.
Sarah snorted. “You don’t have to sound so enthused.” She pursed her lips and Cam waited. “So now what?” Apparently, she’d decided to move forward with Cam at the helm.
“Now, Ms. Peters, you read the contract—”
Sarah interrupted her spiel. “It’s Sarah. I’m not big on formality.”
“Fine.” Cam pushed the standard paperwork for a missing person inquiry forward. “Carefully read, then sign it. You can take it with you if you like. That gives me carte blanche to make standard inquiries on your behalf and with your permission. If there are extraordinary circumstances for which I may need to file a court plea, or other such document, I’ll have a specific request drawn up and leave the decision to pursue up to you. Then you give me a one-thousand-dollar retainer, and I do what I do best. Find your brother.” She hadn’t been able to locate her own family. Maybe she’d do better this time.
* * *
Sarah pressed the gas pedal and steered through the traffic trying to slow her down. She wasn’t sure what bugged her more about Camdyn Stark. Her questions about whether she was sure she wanted to pursue finding her brother, her confidence, or her borderline cocky attitude. Sarah wasn’t normally attracted to looks alone, but she wasn’t immune to them, either. Camdyn rode a fine line between feminine and butch. Long, wavy hair and mesmerizing bedroom eyes were the first things she’d noticed. That, in combination with her tall, trim figure, caused her to tingle in a few places she’d almost forgotten she had. When Camdyn moved from behind her desk to lean against the edge, her muscular thighs and well-shaped ass had distracted Sarah from the reason she was in her office.
The moment she’d left to talk to her receptionist, Sarah had taken the opportunity to inspect the impressive array of certificates and awards covering the walls, along with newspaper clippings of high-profile cases Stark Revelations had solved. Some dated back nearly ten years. Sarah found it hard to believe Camdyn was much older than her. While it was true they’d gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, Camdyn had assured her she would do everything she could to find her unknown sibling. For some reason, Sarah believed her, and when she’d returned, Sarah had quickly read and signed the agreement, though there was some legal jargon she didn’t fully understand. Camdyn might have noticed because she ended their meeting by handing Sarah her business card and telling her to call if she had any questions.
She glanced at the folder on the passenger seat. It contained a copy of the contract, a list of documents to collect, and a questionnaire for her to complete. Some of the things Camdyn would do she could have done herself, like search the web, but to what end? Even if she found a useful clue, then what? The knowledge of her brother’s existence was difficult enough without having to spend the few free hours she had collecting random threads. It was best left to the professionals.
* * *
Cam tapped her pen on the form in front of her. She should be happy. The check was good. Maggie had already called the bank. The contract was signed, and she’d given Sarah a list of questions that would provide her with the basis for starting the investigation. So far, it had been routine. But nothing about the case felt routine. Maybe it was because of her ingrained hate for the system. Her stomach roiled again, and she reached for the near empty bottle of antacids she kept in her desk. If she were to compare herself to a drug addict, this would be her drug of choice. She chewed the chalky tablet and washed it down with a long swallow of seltzer.
Cam hadn’t started out wanting to be a PI. Once she’d escaped the system, she had moved to Florida, thinking the heat and sun would burn away the remnants of abuse. From her skin. From her mind. Key West seemed like the perfect destination for a nineteen-year-old in search of herself. Living on the streets for more than a year had not only hardened her heart, but she’d taken on so many jobs involving manual labor, her body turned to chiseled granite. And the women…well, the women, especially the older ones, were willing to pay for what she had to offer. But two years of hard living and an unpredictable place to lay her head at night forced her to reconsider. The day she met Liv had changed her life for the better.
She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to fall into the fond memory…
Cam was considering her options for the evening as she scanned the room. Several of her past hookups were at the bar, including one guy who paid well and didn’t ask for much, but she wasn’t in a good mood, and the thought of having to smile and act like she was into what she was doing seemed too much like work. She drained her glass and stared into the bottom, wondering what she should do.
“I don’t think that’s the way to get a refill.”
She hadn’t even noticed the arrival of the older, handsome woman who occupied the stool next to her. “I’m willing to try anything once.”
The woman’s eyebrow lifted, a smile playing at the corners of her full-lipped mouth. “Not the first time I’ve heard that line.” She’d stuck out her hand. “Olivia. Friends call me Liv.”
Cam slid her palm into the outstretched one and was surprised to find it both firm and soft. “Marta.” She tipped her head toward the occupied tables. “They don’t call me that.” She wondered what Liv wanted and if she could get lost in the kind, soulful green eyes that washed over her body like a soothing balm. Unfortunately, she was attracted to her, and she’d known it wouldn’t take much to give in if asked.
Liv slid her fingers slowly across Cam’s palm. “Who are ‘they’ and what do they call you?”
She looked around the darkened space, taking in the customers. Not one person she saw could be considered a friend. They were all tricks, casual acquaintances, or total strangers. She turned back.
“I don’t know. No one really knows me. I don’t pay attention to what they call me.” She looked into her glass again, wishing she could wash down the pit of loneliness that felt like a rock in her throat. Even though she’d made her own way, she was still virtually alone, and the weight of acknowledging how pathetic her life had been ever since she could remember threatened to pull her into the abyss of despair she’d barely managed to rise above.
Liv slid a fresh drink in front of her. “Sometimes having no ties is good.” She drank from her beer, her eyes never leaving Cam’s. “Sometimes not.”
Her line rang, jarring her back. “Stark.”
“Hey, Cam. I’ve got some information on the Stillman case that might close it. Can I stop in when I get back?”
“Of course. I’ll be here another couple hours.”
The walk down memory lane had been a pleasant distraction from being preoccupied by her distaste for the system she was about to delve into. But she might not have met Liv if she hadn’t been, so there was some good that came out of the bad.
* * *
Sarah looked at the booklet of pre-printed pages. After she’d left the office, she returned home and pulled out every piece of family history she could find. Of course, they were her family’s history. There wasn’t much in the way of references to her biological mother or father, and nothing about her brother, but if she combed through the clippings and albums her family had stored in totes in the attic, maybe something would jump out at her. She wanted to get them back to Camdyn as soon as possible, especially since she told Sarah the information would serve as a starting point. Which she was sure meant Camdyn wasn’t going to do a lick to find her brother until
she had the papers in front of her.
“I still don’t know if I completely trust her,” Sarah grumbled.
For a minute, she’d almost changed her mind, thinking she’d picked the wrong person to do the job. That was before she saw all the times the phone lines had flashed with incoming calls and had heard the faint ping of emails throughout their meeting. That, along with the additional verifiable references Sarah had found, added credence to the quality of work Camdyn performed, and she believed her instincts were working. Just because the woman was full of herself didn’t mean she couldn’t get the job done. That was all Sarah really cared about.
After changing into lounge pants and a sweatshirt, Sarah flicked the light switch and climbed the attic stairs. Dust particles swirled in the rarely disturbed air, reminding her of happier times when she and her mother would come up to gather Christmas decorations. The red tote she remembered her mother stashing bits of memorabilia in would be in the far corner, under the eaves. She looked around, taking in items carefully stowed in plastic bags, boxes, and containers. All marked with her mother’s distinctive, sweeping handwriting. Unshed tears burned behind her eyes. All of her parents’ history had been lovingly saved, along with her achievements. Maybe someday she’d have a family of her own and she’d do the same thing for posterity’s sake, but she couldn’t dwell on what might never happen.
She dragged the tote to the edge of the stairs and carried it down to the dining table. Something was written on the top, covered by a thick layer of dust. She swiped it away and drew in a breath. Two words printed in thick black letters. My Life. Sarah collapsed in a chair, saddened that her mother’s full, rich life had been reduced to one box. She did nothing to stop the tears that followed.
Chapter Four