by Renee Roman
“It’s Cam. Water would be good.”
He wavered before smiling. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going for something stronger.”
“Not at all.” She took the opportunity to glance at the pictures on the small mantel above a tiny fireplace. They were all family from what she could tell. Paul and who she assumed was his wife in one. A young boy holding a trophy. His features resembled Paul as he stood behind him. An older boy with a darker complexion, dirty blond hair, and blue eyes. He looked pissed at the world. He didn’t look like Paul but had similar eye color. The next one froze her in place. It was a younger version of Sarah laughing, her eyes sparkling. She held the two pictures side by side. While their coloring was marked opposites, their facial structure and features were the same. She snapped a few photos with her phone. She had a picture of Sarah’s brother.
“They grew up to be good-looking, like their mom.”
Cam gently placed them back on the mantel. “But she has your eyes.”
Paul handed her a glass of water with ice. His tumbler barely contained enough amber liquid to see and she admired his restraint. “The only good thing I gave her.” He sat down heavily in one of the two chairs. She took the other.
“You’ve been in touch with them?” She knew he hadn’t with Sarah, but perhaps he had with the boy.
He sipped before answering. “No. I hired someone a long time ago. It was on a whim. I was in a bad place and thought…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to interfere in their lives. I just needed to know they were doing okay. I wasn’t the one who wanted to give them up.”
“I’m not here to judge you, Mr. White. I’m looking for your daughter’s twin.” Whatever reason the man had for looking for his children was none of her business.
Paul’s eyes glistened. “Why does she want to know after all these years?”
Normally that was the kind of question Cam asked, but the man had a right to know. “Sarah’s adoptive parents are recently deceased. She’s found out about her twin and asked me to help her locate him.” She didn’t miss the pain transforming his already troubled face into the type of regret she’d seen on many occasions in her field. The deep regret that even time didn’t heal. “Sarah might also want to find her birth parents, but I’m following the lead to her twin.”
“Not surprised. Her mother—not my wife”—he nodded to the pictures—“said getting pregnant by me was the biggest mistake of her life.” He finished the contents and set the glass down, then looked back at Cam. “It wasn’t. I told her the biggest mistake was giving up the two beautiful children in the nursery. She only let me see them once.” He began to cry softly, his hands over his face.
Many people had called her numerous names over the years, but callous had never been one. “Mr. White, would you like me to come back in a few days?” Sarah might be upset, but how she conducted the investigation was up to her, and she wasn’t about to take Sarah’s impatience out on this man. He still suffered from past mistakes, and she had no doubt his children’s estrangement was a big one.
He took a minute, then cleared his throat. “It’s okay. I had an inkling this day would come. What do you need?”
“Do you happen to know your son’s adoptive name?”
Paul got up and pulled a small album off a bookshelf. He sat and reverently flipped through the pages. She caught glimpses of the two youngsters in the photos she’d studied. He pulled a piece of paper out of a sleeve toward the middle. Paul held it between trembling fingers. “The person I hired, he stayed in touch over the years. Once in a while he’d send an envelope with a picture or two, including a location and date written on the back.” He thought for a minute. “I wish I could remember his name. There was never a return address, and the postmarks were from all over the country. Maybe he was worried about being sued or some such thing. People are money hungry these days, looking for an easy way to make a buck instead of honest work. Whatever the reason, I wish I could thank him.”
He handed Cam a rumpled square of paper and she studied it. “Brace Archer.” She snapped a photo with her phone. It had an address but no phone number. Her pulse picked up speed. This was a definite lead. Better than even she had hoped for.
“That’s the last one I got.” He nodded to the open album. “These stopped coming a number of years ago. Maybe four or five.” He tipped his head to one side and stared off. “Memory’s a little cloudy these days.” He took the paper and slid it back into the album.
She should be pushing for more, but she didn’t want to offend him. He was her best link to discovery, and maybe Sarah would want to talk with him at some point. Blood was blood. “Have you spoken to their mother, Judy Jones?”
“Ha. That what she put down as her name?”
“Yes.”
Paul shook his head but went on. “I tried a few times. She was a nasty cuss. Had high falutin’ ideas that she was gonna be a star…make it big, and she couldn’t do that with two screaming babies.” Paul went quiet.
Cam thought she’d heard all she was going to.
“I’d never hated anyone in my life until she got rid of those little angels as fast as she could. Said she was leaving the hospital in a couple of days and didn’t care if they had a home or not.” Paul nodded to the picture of Brace. “From what I understand, he’d been sick when he was born. They said it was fetal alcohol syndrome. That damn woman was so self-centered she didn’t care what she was doing to those babies.”
Paul looked as though he had a nasty taste in his mouth, and Cam imagined the thing between him and Judy had been doomed before it even began.
“What was her real name?”
“Judith Anne Matthews. Hell, I slept with her on impulse, so I’m part to blame.” He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “If I’d had a legal leg to stand on, I would have taken them, made do however I could have. She denied I was the father. Said she’d never admit otherwise. I never understood why it mattered to her if I took my babies, except she likely did it out of spite.” He took a breath and shook his head again, though it seemed more in defeat than disbelief. “Water under the dam. Anyway, I heard she died a while back.” He sighed. “Regrets…you know what I mean?”
“I do.” Cam had a few of her own. It was time to leave him be. She doubted there was anything else of consequence. When she stood, so did he. “Thank you, Mr. White. I appreciate your help.” She extended her hand and he grasped it, hanging on as though it were a lifeline. Cam pulled out a business card. “If you think of anything you’d like Sarah to know, call me.”
“If she asks, tell her I never wanted it this way. Tell her…I’d like to meet her.” He glanced at the mantel. “Her brother, too.”
Cam studied his face. Sarah would have done well to have him as a father. Hell, Cam would have probably been okay with a man of his character, too. She didn’t want to dash his hopes, but she didn’t want to lead him on either.
“If she asks.” She gently squeezed, and he let go.
He looked down at the picture he was holding of Sarah from a few years ago. She could see tears pooling and wanted to comfort him, wondering if anyone had loved her that much. The door closed quietly behind her, but the click was deafening.
Chapter Thirteen
“Maggie, can you come in here?” Cam clicked off the intercom and pulled a pile of papers from the blue folder. Each page was stamped with the file number, one she knew by heart. The last piece held today’s date. Paul had struggled at times, but he’d told her all he could. It was too bad about Judith Matthews, and his reaction to her name cleared up the issue of seeing her first name as Judy on documents. It wasn’t like the current culture where businesses, including hospitals, asked for a photo ID. No matter. She’d gotten what she wanted, Sarah’s brother’s adoptive name, and on top of that, she’d spoken to Sarah’s birth father. Paul might be someone else Sarah might consider contacting, but she could do that on her own. Even if Cam couldn’t find the brother for some reason, she’d s
till found actual blood, and that was a damn good thing. The time for deep cyber sleuthing had arrived.
“What’s up?” Maggie stood in front of her desk, a pad and pen at the ready.
“I’ve got a new lead on the Peters case. Can you do a quick search and see what you can find on Brace Archer, common spelling? Check the usual, including social media.”
“On it,” she said as she turned away.
“Thank you.” She’d been hard on her staunchest supporter, and to her credit, Maggie’s attitude had changed over the last few weeks. Cam wanted to make sure she knew she noticed. Sarah’s hypothesis that Maggie was jealous in some way had been put to rest, and that made life a lot easier. Maggie was being a friend, someone who worried about her. It wasn’t something Cam was used to, and it made the boss/employee relationship a little blurry, but she could live with it.
Maggie winked at her. “You know I can’t say no to you even when I think otherwise.” She tapped the pad. “Let me see what I can find.”
Cam forwarded the pictures from her phone to her email, then saved each one before making hard copies. She stared at Brace, wondering what he’d been thinking when the boyhood picture had been taken. He looked like a typical brooding teen. Based on the date on the back, he should have been in college at the time, though he looked young. She was thankful Paul had written their ages and the date he received each photo. Brace didn’t appear to share Sarah’s disposition. Sarah was a deep thinker and feisty, but she was also kind and thoughtful. The night they’d shared a hotel room had proven that. Even though she’d been incapacitated, Cam remembered how sexy Sarah had looked fresh from the shower, with her wet, wavy hair and lack of makeup that she didn’t need. If she’d been able to think, even a little, she’d have taken the opportunity to get to know Sarah on a more personal level and found out more about Sarah as an individual instead of a client.
While Maggie tracked down the easy stuff, she delved deeper into her databases. Thankfully, the Departments of Motor Vehicles from across the nation had joined forces and created a massive database, making it easier for other states to see traffic infractions and suspended license information regardless of the state of issuance. She typed in his name and date of birth, then watched while the system searched. It wasn’t long before it pinged.
His original license had been issued in Philadelphia, which was the address Paul provided, and likely where he grew up. And a renewal two years later in Miami. She opened another resource and discovered he’d gone to Broward College in Florida, earning an associate degree in criminal justice. Three years later, he showed up in New York. She tapped her pen on the pad in front of her. Something felt off. What had he done between college and coming to New York? Miami was a hotbed of grand theft, gang violence, and drugs. Maybe he’d done internships somewhere. She opened another screen and went to her LinkedIn account. Bingo. Brace Archer flashed in front of her. A few clicks later, and his résumé appeared. The years between his degree in 2002 and joining the Poughkeepsie Police Force in 2005 were still missing. The void didn’t point to a negative connotation. She had some missing years of her own and they were going to remain that way. Maybe he hadn’t bothered updating his résumé with work that didn’t seem relevant.
What Cam did want to know was how he’d survived on his own with no visible income, and she verified her hunch by searching his name plus employment history, again finding nothing as far as Social Security deductions or taxable income. Of course, he might have worked under the table, which would prove to be another dead end. She rubbed her eyes and rolled her neck. Digging could be tedious, and coffee was in order. She went to the small break room and rinsed her day-old remnants away. The refrigerator hummed and she grimaced, wondering if the takeout she’d shoved in there sometime earlier in the week was growing mold. She opened the door and peered in to find the shelves clean and a neat stack of grab and go snacks lined up on the top one. Satisfied no one would die of botulism, she turned to find Maggie in the doorway, a paper shopping bag in her hand.
“You need more than junk food. Maybe half your problem with migraines is your existence on caffeine and crap.” Maggie gestured for her to take a seat at the table. “And how about water or juice for a change?”
She wanted to defend her eating habits, but how could she? Never mind about the five pounds she’d lost in the last month. At some point her body was going to revolt more than it already was, and she had no one to blame but herself. After staring at her abandoned mug, she grabbed a water from the fridge before taking a seat.
“I remember a time when you didn’t come across like a drill sergeant.” She cracked the seal and took a swig, wrinkling her nose. Coffee would be better.
“Perhaps because there was a time when you actually gave a shit about your health.” Maggie emptied a variety of containers on the table. “Salads, pasta, and a small slice of cheesecake to go with that coffee I know you’ll eventually have.”
She knew better than to argue. Maggie had hit all the high points. She was an emotional mess and running on empty most of the time. Nights were the worst. She’d lay awake thinking about Sarah and how much she enjoyed spending time with her and how the whole idea of getting personally involved was weighing on her. Cam was trying her best to maintain distance, and just when she thought she managed to do so, she’d find a reason to see Sarah. Which reminded her she needed to send a text and set up a dinner date. No, not a date. Getting together to discuss what she’d learned from Paul. A client meeting, with food.
“Earth to Cam. What are you stewing over?” Maggie had removed the food covers and was staring at her.
Cam felt herself blink several times to clear her head. “Nothing. The case. Did you find out anything?” She scooped some eggplant parm onto her plate and a small helping of Caesar salad, ignoring the scolding look from Maggie.
While there were still blanks to be filled, Cam had confirmed his current address. He was, at least technically, in Poughkeepsie. Which was great since she never liked the heat of the South and had hoped she wouldn’t have to travel anywhere near Miami. While it was out of the norm in the function of a PI to introduce herself to the person she was trying to find, that’s exactly what she intended to do with Brace, but not until she had more information. No one had ever been concerned enough about Cam to keep her out of harm’s way, but she intended to be that person for Sarah, especially now that Sarah didn’t have anyone to look out for her. Once she was confident he was honorable and no threat to Sarah’s well-being, all she had to do was pass the information she’d gathered on to Sarah and she was done. Finito. Certainly, she couldn’t be faulted for making sure Sarah wasn’t being set up for another disappointment. That’s the responsible thing to do. Cam wondered why she was chancing her career for the sake of a client. She’d never gone over the line from professional to personal involvement before. Well, not while she was still employed by the person. But when it came to Sarah, she was willing to ignore the confines of common practice.
* * *
Sarah cracked open the electrolyte drink, downing half before unwrapping her sandwich of leftover chicken, lettuce, tomato, and cheese. Her day on the high-rise would end in a few hours, but she hoped the supervisor would ask for volunteers for overtime. She had to make all she could to build up her reserves. Winter would rear its ugly head soon enough, and construction would slow down, if not halt altogether. She pulled out her phone and checked her messages. Lisa, of course, telling her to stop being a ghost and come see her. A couple of bill reminders from her bank. Oh yeah. And Cam. She swallowed hard, then opened the message.
Wondering if you would be free for dinner Saturday night. I’ve got some updates on your case. I could pick you up at 7.
Her stomach tightened. Had she talked to her birth father or mother? Could Cam have found her brother? She stared at the message, hoping for more.
Saturday is good.
It didn’t take long for the phone to alert her to an incoming message.
/> See you then.
Sarah had a million questions, but they would all have to wait. It was obvious whatever Cam had to tell her, she wanted to do it in person. Maybe that means she doesn’t have any news and wants to break it to me gently. She’d drive herself crazy with wonder. She just had to finish out the next few days, then she’d have answers.
Sarah looked off in the distance as she ate and wondered if her brother was out there somewhere in her line of sight. She’d resisted contacting Cam though it had damn near killed her. The not knowing what was going on every minute was absurd, and she’d managed to keep it at bay only because she’d been too exhausted to think and had fallen into bed each night shortly after eating. The weekend was coming, and she was looking forward to strolling through a couple of nearby modern art galleries. She needed to get her name out there somehow, and networking was her best option. Lisa had offered to go with her to lend moral support, but she wanted to prove to herself she had what it took to make it in the art world, as fickle a place as it was. Perhaps she’d bring along her modest portfolio in hopes of striking up a conversation with a another gallery owner since they tended to peruse works by artists other than the ones they displayed. She had nothing to lose by trying.
Sarah opened a wet towelette and cleaned her face and hands before running the soft cloth over her neck and forearms. A soft breeze dried the moisture in an instant, making her skin tingle. Cam made her tingle, too. How many times was she going to have to reign in her wayward thoughts? Cam would find her brother and that would end their relationship. Sarah’s gut twisted. Her growing attraction was likely a factor in wanting to contact Cam, but she knew she should just leave her alone and let her do her job. Even though Sarah was more than ready to start her own life, Cam wasn’t going to be part of it. Then why do I keep finding reasons to keep her in it?
* * *