Where the Lies Hide

by Renee Roman

  Sarah dropped back in the chair, relief etched in her features. She took a breath, then another before looking back up. Her composure had returned. “I’m sure we can come to some equitable agreement. I know there’s not a lot, but at least you have some information. Right?”

  Her standard response was to not pull any punches; however, she wasn’t willing to dash Sarah’s hopes just yet. There was a possibility, even though it was slim, she might be able to pull a rabbit out of her hat and find a lead. If only it were that easy. She wasn’t holding her breath, and neither should Sarah.

  “I’ll do my best.” She’d said those same words to dozens of clients. This time, without knowing exactly why, she wanted to give Sarah a reason to bring back the spark of hope she’d seen earlier. And the fire. Especially the fire. Cam didn’t want to admit the connection of abandonment motivated her even more. “I’m not giving up, but I’ve spent hours going through records and I’m not sure how much more time I can spend.”

  Sarah looked deep in thought. The crease between her brows and her steady scrutiny made Cam feel like she was a bug under a microscope. The uncomfortable silence continued for several long minutes before Sarah spoke.

  “Does that mean you want more money?”

  Sighing, Cam leaned forward. “Like I said, I don’t know if there’s more to find.”

  Sarah’s lips thinned. “How many hours did you spend looking?”

  She sat back. This was the spunky woman she remembered from their first meeting, and Sarah wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Cam wasn’t sure she wanted her to. She liked her tenacity. She hadn’t wanted to tell Sarah she was already in arrears, but Sarah was leaving her little choice. “Considering my usual rate, more than you’ve paid for.” A look of shame turned Sarah’s young features old. She regretted making the comment. “That’s not the point, Sarah. I can’t make a promise I’ll be able to find more, and if I do, it could be costly. Are you prepared for that scenario?”

  “What about the adoption agency? There had to have been one, right?”

  Cam heard hope in Sarah’s voice and she hated dashing it. “I tried, Sarah. I found the agency the hospital used back then.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” Sarah blinked and she wondered if she was getting pissed again.

  “Because there wasn’t anything to tell. The only way they will release those records is if the adoptee produces an original birth certificate and files a petition with the court.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  She leaned forward. Sarah had to not only listen but hear what she was saying. “I’ve already filed one. They said the backlog is at least six months and could be as long as a year.”

  Sarah stared at her lap a long time. “I’ll do whatever I have to do if it will help find him. You have no idea how it feels to be living without any family, without anyone in the world.”

  You have no idea how wrong you are. Cam pulled the file closer, scribbled a note, and then tucked it in the folder before tossing it on the top tray. “I’ll call you if I find anything new.”

  “Thank you.” Sarah sounded despondent.

  Sarah left, shutting the door softly behind her. Cam stared at it, wishing she would come back. Sarah didn’t know she’d touched on a sore spot. How could she? But the bigger question was why did Cam care? She’d gotten into the business because there were times law enforcement’s hands were tied and there wasn’t anything they could legally do to help alleviate a family’s grief over the sudden disappearance of a loved one. Or the couple who seemed to have it all, only to find out all was not as it seemed. Gambling debts could knock out a family’s financial resources without the other partner’s knowledge until it was too late. Not to mention a thousand other scenarios she’d run across. Her obsession to find her own birth mother had been the ultimate reason she was in this predicament with Sarah, wanting to provide her the thread Cam had never found.

  But she’d never taken on a case where she cared enough to want more time with a client, though she and Sarah remained in a professional relationship. Personal relationships were painful. She’d seen enough in her life to know that, even with the one or two friendships she’d cultivated while on the street. She hadn’t had the stomach for seeing them suffer from failed couplings. But she was older now, and she’d learned to cope with the constant ups and downs of life. Hadn’t she? Or had she just managed to hide them beneath her work, lose herself in the distance of client relations, and let the other half…the half with partnerships and marriages, and relationships that actually worked, pass her by? She thought she was stronger than that, but every emotion that involved Sarah gave her a reason to step back instead of forward. Proof that any thought of a future with Sarah in it caused a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions. She’d had more than her share of those for a lifetime.

  Perhaps it was Sarah’s desperation to be connected again. She’d lived with love her entire life and then it was stripped away. Cam didn’t understand her mother and father keeping such an important fact secret. It was downright cruel, and a shining example of how even the best relationship could screw you over. And though Sarah was special, she wasn’t going there.

  Then she remembered the tears in Sarah’s eyes. “Fuck.” She pulled the Peters folder in front of her. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the truth was she did care what Sarah thought about her. The yellow legal sheets with her notes were clipped to the front cover. She’d start there. If she found the elusive brother, Sarah Peters would be out of the picture for good, and she wouldn’t have to look into her expectant, amazingly blue eyes any more. It’s for the best.

  She just had to keep telling herself.

  * * *

  Sarah stared at the screen on her laptop. The meeting with Cam hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, and finding out she likely owed Cam money didn’t sit well. Curiosity won out and she began searching for the “standard” fee for private investigators. The range she found left her sagging. Cam’s retainer was probably on the lower end of what others charged. So, I do owe you money. With that bit of information, she felt rather foolish for challenging Cam. But she didn’t believe that was the reason Cam’s demeanor had changed following Sarah’s blurted statement about not having family. She hadn’t meant to hurt Cam’s feelings, but somehow she had without knowing why. From what little she knew, Cam was a woman who had always gotten what she wanted and still did. But now Sarah wasn’t so sure that was true.

  On a whim, she typed in Camdyn Stark. The search hit on her agency, citing high profile cases. Cam looked smug; pleased to be the center of attention and soaking up the limelight. What was unnerving was the lack of any public record older than her business. Guessing Cam was in her mid thirties, there ought to have been something. School records, high school sports…something.

  Twenty minutes later, she gave up. Searching the internet was exhausting. What Cam did for a living wasn’t easy. Perhaps she’d rushed to judgment by her all-consuming need to connect with her brother. That didn’t explain the lack of a childhood for Cam in this age of technology. Who was she really? Wayward thoughts filled her mind. What if she’d hired a criminal? Oh my God! That’s it! I’ll bet Camdyn Stark has a sordid past. A life of crime that…Stop. Her runaway imagination was getting the better of her. There was no way she’d be licensed to carry a gun if she were an ex-con. Or would she? And did it matter if she was doing the job Sarah had hired her to do?

  “Ugh.” Sarah shut her laptop and went to make her lunch. She was being ridiculous. Lots of people had varied histories that they weren’t proud of. Maybe Cam had a troubled youth and now that she had her act together, she preferred to leave her past behind. Maybe she’d ask Cam about her family the next time they were together to satisfy her curiosity about Cam’s mystique. Of course, that was assuming she’d actually have a chance to see her again. Though, at the moment and thanks to how things had been left between them, she wasn’t sure of anything.

  * * *

&nbs
p; The microwave dinged and Cam pulled the plastic off the rest of her meal before shoving it back in for another ninety seconds.

  As brief as it was, she’d reread what little info there was in the entire file after Sarah left the office. She’d been thinking about what other direction she could take when the lightning flash struck. It was a precursor to the migraine she’d been staving off for days. She got home before the crippling pain sent her to her knees. She managed to take her meds and fall onto her bed, and she was grateful for the blackout curtains she’d bought a while ago. The medication knocked her out, and when she woke up three hours later her headache was gone, leaving only the residual ache and tiredness as usual. The price she paid for indulging in medication was nausea, made worse by having not eaten since breakfast.

  She set the steaming tray on the counter and poured a glass of iced tea. It was cold and refreshing. The article on her laptop covered adoptions in the nineties. She hadn’t had much luck with the mother’s name, but there might be something with the father. There was only one other case on her plate at the moment, and tailing a suspected cheating spouse only kept her interest so long. Cam had given the late-night surveillance to Kevin. He was eager to find dirt on the woman and bring something back for a big payoff.

  The information scrolling in front of her made for a dry read. Apparently, there wasn’t much in the way of mandates for record keeping for social service adoptions in Delaware, as the requirements varied state to state, and even less so in closed adoptions. The only other name in any of the Kent hospital records was the children’s caseworker. Unfortunately, on a cursory internet search, she’d discovered the woman had died two years ago. Another dead end.

  “Big help,” she mumbled. Cam tossed the chicken bones in the trash and rinsed the tray for recycling. The bottle of wine in the refrigerator called to her. Thinking better of it, she rinsed her glass and set it in the dishwasher, deciding on a cup of coffee instead. The caffeine would help dispel the last of the leftover grogginess, and she remembered how Sarah had teased her about her caffeine intake. Coffee in hand, she plopped on the couch and made another list of a few possible resources to start with tomorrow. She would contact the State Regulatory Agency and try to locate someone who would be willing to help. She went back to the picture of Sarah as a baby and the woman holding her. Who was she? It was a long shot, but she pulled up the obituary picture of the caseworker. It was of a much younger woman, rather than the sixty-eight-year-old in the obit. She enlarged it, then made a few adjustments before she held Sarah’s picture up for comparison. Cam looked back and forth, taking in the details of the two women’s eyes, their hair, their lips and nose. Though she wasn’t an expert in forensics, she was fairly certain the two pictures depicted the same person. One mystery solved, but not the one that counted.

  Cam tossed the file on the coffee table, then stretched out to relax. The minute her eyes were closed she saw bright blue ones staring back at her. Sarah’s subdued departure left Cam feeling like she’d let her down, even though there was nothing to indicate she’d done so in how she’d handled the case so far.

  As she edged closer to sleep, she had visions of the past few weeks. Sarah in the office, at the hotel, and sitting across from her during the meals they’d shared. Those times, she’d been focused on Sarah’s expressive face. She tried to imagine her behind a welder’s mask, but instead Cam’s mind produced a vivid picture of Sarah in the throes of passion as she straddled Cam’s hips. She startled awake, looking for any sign it hadn’t been just a fantasy. Damn. Cam sat up and her slick center left no doubt it had felt very real. Those were the kind of images people conjured when they were infatuated. She wasn’t infatuated with Sarah, and Sarah certainly wasn’t interested in her. It was the only thing about this case she was sure of, or so she kept telling herself.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cam tapped her fingers impatiently. She hated wasting time on hold, but it was a part of investigating that was unavoidable. She glanced at the phoenix tattoo on her right forearm she’d gotten after her degree. It was there to remind her how strong she was. Liv had helped her realize that. God, I miss you. She wasn’t sure why she was thinking about her friend, mentor, former lover. At the time she’d decided on the mythical creature she’d thought she’d come a long way, and she had, but she wasn’t so sure anymore. Between the migraines, nightmares, and conflicting feelings about Sarah, she was on a slippery slope again. I have to keep focused on my job, that’s all. She’d risen from the ashes once, but Cam didn’t know if she could do it again. Maybe she needed to see Liv and reaffirm she was where she needed to be…and that she was okay. The tightness in her chest lessened. The annoying music in her ear stopped.

  “Ms. Stark, I have two details for you. Paul White’s DOB is March 26, 1964. I also have his Social. I can give you the last four digits.” The woman on the phone gave her the numbers. “I hope it helps. Sorry I don’t have anything on the woman.”

  “Not a problem. I’m sure this will help. Thanks for your time.” Cam stared at the paper. This was the first real information she’d had for the Peters case. The former dead-end road just got an extension. However, there remained the question of money. While one part of her brain insisted it was time to ask for more, another part wanted to spend whatever amount of time and energy it took to find Sarah’s brother whether Sarah could afford it or not.

  “You’re not running a charity here, Stark.” She scrolled through the contacts on her business phone until Sarah’s name appeared. She hesitated, hovering over the phone icon, unsure what she wanted to do. A text would be less awkward. It was also a coward’s way of confronting an issue, and that was one thing Cam had never been.

  The phone rang several times and Cam thought she’d get to leave a message until Sarah’s expectant voice came through.

  “Hello?”

  She sighed internally. “Hi, Sarah. I’ve made a few discoveries. The first is that the picture of the woman holding you was of the hospital social worker.”

  “Then you can talk to her.”

  “I would, but she’s deceased.”

  “How do you deal with the letdowns?”

  Cam heard her plop down somewhere with a grunt. “I don’t have a choice, but I do have a date of birth and a partial Social on Paul.”

  It took Sarah a couple of beats to answer. “That’s good, right?”

  “It is, but there’s a little matter we have to settle first.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time the other day. You deserve to be paid for the work you’re doing. I get that.”

  Cam was pleasantly surprised she didn’t have to argue over money. “Thanks. If you let me know what figure we’re talking, I can tell you the hours I have to work with.”

  “Uh. What would one thousand buy me?”

  Cam rubbed her hand over her face. “It would bring us just about even.”

  “Oh.” Sarah sounded disheartened. Cam heard the rustle of papers and waited. “How about two?”

  “I can work with that.” She wrote some quick figures on the scratch pad. “I could start with half that if it would make you more comfortable.” She thought about how things had been left between them when Cam had been abrupt after Sarah had struck a chord with the family comment. She was better than that person. It had taken a while to learn not every comment made was a personal attack.

  “Is that your way of telling me if you don’t use it all I won’t be getting a refund?” Sarah’s teasing tone made her smile.

  “Well, that depends.” What the hell am I doing?

  “On?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a breath. “On if you’d consider grabbing a bite to eat while we discuss what else I find.”

  “You mean ‘if’ you find something,” Sarah said.

  Cam could feel her mouth stretch. “Not if, Ms. Peters. When. Definitely when. I always do my utmost for my clients.” She hoped Sarah could tell from the tone of her voice that the formal address
was a tease, though she meant it when she said she always gave her best.

  “I think I can manage a meal even with the outrageous fees I’m paying my PI.”

  “I would have never guessed you needed one, but I’m sure you’ve hired the best.” My PI. Cam liked the sound of that.

  * * *

  “Mr. White, my name is Camdyn Stark. I’m a private investigator and I was wondering if I might have a few minutes of your time?” She’d gotten incredibly lucky with finding an address for Sarah’s birth father. Even luckier it was only a few hours east of her office and she’d taken a chance he’d be home. The man staring back at her didn’t share any of Sarah’s facial features, but there was no mistaking they had the same ice-blue eyes. Sarah hadn’t mentioned an interest in finding her birth parents, and she assumed it was because Sarah might harbor anger over being given up. She hoped Sarah would let go of any ill feelings and pursue every avenue for family, even though her own discovery had ended in more heartache. Though Cam’s contract was clear about who she’d been hired to find, she’d give Sarah his address.

  A bit wary, the man kept his hand on the door. “What’s this about?”

  “Do you remember having fathered a set of twins, Mr. White?”

  The man grasped the doorframe tightly while shadows danced across his eyes, the same way they did when Sarah became quiet.

  His reaction told her she’d found the correct individual and Cam’s persistence had paid off. She reached out to him. “Mr. White, can we go inside? I think it would be best if you were sitting down.”

  After a minute, he nodded, though he said nothing. She followed him into a small but neat home. The furniture was older but clean.

  “You got ID?”

  She flipped out her wallet, producing her badge and license. Paul studied it for a minute. “Can I get you a drink, Ms. Stark?”