by Sara L Foust
“They could be twins.”
“I know.”
“The noses and the brow shapes are different, but wow.”
“I know.”
He recognized the curious gleam in her eyes. Figuring out Olivia and Joanie’s connection was going to quickly become Annalise’s priority. “We’d better get moving.”
“Yeah. Let me get my boots, and I’m ready.”
“Did you see the story on the six o’clock news?”
“I caught the tail end of it. Any leads on the hotline yet?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“It would be such a long shot to expect anyone to call in with a good lead. But we can always pray.”
She smiled, the radiant smile that actually reached her eyes and lit them like pinpoints of liquid intensity, and his knees suddenly felt wobbly.
She arched an eyebrow. “You okay there?”
He couldn’t form an answer, so he just nodded. “I’ll be in the truck.”
She chuckled. “Since when are you in a hurry if it didn’t involve food, Special Agent Leebow?”
Since he started thinking of his best friend in such a different light. He grinned and snuck out the door. She had no idea what she did to his insides these days.
Chapter Eight
Milt tapped the table with his index finger. Where was she? He glanced out the window, over his shoulder, and then at the crinkled slip of paper. The code he and Olivia had set years ago indicated this Waffle House on this day. It was always their plan that she would leave a note for him, hidden in the panel in her closet that no one knew about.
What if she was hurt? What if her jaunt into the forest had truly gotten her lost? He swallowed, hard, and resumed his finger-tapping. He’d wait a little longer. If she didn’t show, he’d retrace her possible steps. Probably should’ve started with that anyway. But that wasn’t the plan, and Olivia knew what she was doing. Completely self-sufficient and competent.
He’d gone soft over the years. Each one that ticked by, the less diligent he’d been. He could smack himself for letting his guard down so much.
And now his sweet Olivia was in danger, of some sort, and he hadn’t even seen it coming.
It had taken a long time to think of her as Olivia, but it suited her now. He closed his eyes and pictured the photos she’d managed to send him over the last five years. Not many. It was too risky. But he had treasured them more than any other assets in his life.
The crinkling of the booth seat behind him made his eyes snap open. His heart skipped for a second before he realized it wasn’t her.
His coffee burned his throat. She wasn’t coming.
“TELL ME ABOUT COURT. Sorry I had to cut you off yesterday.”
“Buchanan made a plea deal of some sort.”
“Whoa. What must he know in order for them to offer him one?”
“I know. There was so much evidence against him.”
Zach nodded.
Annalise took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had him penned in the car, she might as well go for it. “What’s up with you?”
“Me?” He grinned. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you. You’ve been weird the last couple days.”
His smile fell. “I don’t know.”
“Zach? Since when do we have secrets?”
“This case is bothering me. Something made me think about my dad.”
“Oh.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
She squeezed his forearm. “For now, yes. But you’re not getting off the hook forever. Just keep that in mind.”
“I would expect nothing less from you Special Agent Baker.”
Her mind drifted back to the Joanie, Olivia argument. “Let’s swing by and follow up with the pharmacy before we head to headquarters. Now that we have the warrant.”
Zach nodded.
“Do you think there’s any way...no. Never mind.” She bit her lip.
“What is it?”
“You don’t think Olivia could be Joanie, do you?”
Zach furrowed his brow. “You were at her funeral, Annalise. You saw the evidence, the car, and the blood, and everything with your own eyes.”
She was being paranoid. “You’re right.” She shook her head, but the thought wouldn’t dislodge. “But, what if...”
“It’s a conspiracy with a fake body in a real coffin?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“How could we find out?”
She loved it that, even though she sounded nuts, Zach automatically jumped on her side. He would never dream of letting her pursue even the craziest idea alone. “Thanks, Zach.”
“For what?”
“Being on my team.”
“Always.”
He swung into the pharmacy parking lot and they hopped out of his vehicle at the same time. Annalise led the way to the counter and pulled the warrant up on her tablet. She showed it and her badge to the man behind the counter. “We need to ask you some questions about Olivia Beck.”
The pharmacist nodded.
“This pharmacy was listed as the family’s primary.” Actually, she’d seen the name on Jonah Beck’s prescription bottles and noted it. “Do you have a record for Mrs. Olivia Beck?”
The pharmacist pecked at the keyboard. “Yes, officer.”
“I need a printout of all activity on her account for the last six months, please.”
The printer spurted to life behind him. She and Zach stared at him for a long, awkward moment until he handed the results to Annalise.
“Zach, look. She had a ninety-day prescription refilled three days ago.”
“What for?”
“Blood pressure medicine.”
“She left.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. It’s time to ask Jonah some tough questions.”
“I’ll call Kirk.”
When they arrived ten minutes later, Zach parked on the street in front of the Beck’s home. “What if the kids are here?”
“Divide and conquer?”
Jonah frowned when he swung the door open. “Do you have any news?”
Zach shook his head. “We have a few questions.”
“More questions, you mean. Haven’t you asked enough already?”
Zach’s tone grew more serious. “Are the children home, Mr. Beck?”
Watching from behind, with Jonah’s attention on Zach, she caught the slight widening of Jonah’s eyes, the paling of his cheeks.
“You know something, don’t you?”
“Can we come in?”
Jonah nodded tersely and led them to the kitchen table. “What can I help you with?”
“Your wife’s medicine is missing from the bathroom cupboard,” Annalise began.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“That’s interesting, since your medicine is there too.” Annalise questioned Jonah, but she knew Zach studied him intently, watching for the slightest hint of a lie.
“Wait, you went through our things? Don’t you need a warrant for that?”
“You said I could take a look around yesterday. Remember?”
He dropped his head. “Yeah. I know.” A huge sigh escaped him. “I’m scared. What if she doesn’t come home? What do I tell the kids?” When he lifted his face, tears gleamed in his eyes.
Annalise’s chest ached. “I’m sorry, Mr. Beck. We are doing everything we can.” Had he processed yet what it meant that his wife had taken her medicine?
Zach cleared his throat.
“Mr. Beck, if your wife took her medicine with her, she had to be planning on leaving.” She let it sink in for a moment.
Jonah’s chest rose and fell, deeper with each inspiration.
“Can you think of any reason why she would want to do that?”
“It isn’t poss...no...she wouldn’t leave the children. Me, maybe.”
“Why do you say that?”
“
No marriage is perfect.”
Didn’t she know that so well? “Was there something in particular?”
He glanced away, his gaze darting to the wall behind her head and back.
“Nothing I can think of. She seemed happy. We were happy.”
He wasn’t being honest. Not completely. She would push later, if needed. “May I use your restroom, Mr. Beck?”
“Sure, just don’t go through my stuff again.” He smiled weakly.
“Right.”
“You know where it is.”
She nodded and excused herself from the table. Once out of sight, she slipped into the master bedroom and bath. As she hoped, long hairs dotted the brush on the counter. She cleaned it, stuffing the hairs into an evidence bag and tucking it into her pocket. Even if she turned out to be crazy, she had to follow this lead. Her mind would never rest until she knew for certain that Joanie was still deceased.
Chapter Nine
Zach stepped into the SMIF headquarters reception room behind Annalise. “Kirk?”
Kirk stepped from his office to the side. “Yeah?”
“Do you have financials on the Becks yet?”
“Yeah, hang on.” Kirk disappeared back through his open door.
“I’m going out back for a bit,” Annalise said, touching his elbow.
Tingles shot through his arm, much like when he hit his funny bone on something hard, only more pleasant. He stood staring after her and rubbing his elbow. That was new.
“Here you go.”
Zach jumped and spun.
Kirk held out a file. “You okay?”
Nope. Not even a little bit. “Mm-hmm.” He grabbed the folder and retreated to his office, shutting the door behind him.
He had to get his thoughts or hormones or whatever they were under control. This was Annalise he was thinking about. Best friends since sandbox days, newly divorced and vulnerable Annalise. No matter what he thought he felt, he had to tuck it away. Lock it inside a bulletproof case and throw it to the Mariana Trench.
He leafed through the Beck family’s financials. They seemed to be in order. Why then couldn’t he shake the feeling Jonah was hiding something? It was subtle. And it wasn’t murderous—at least he didn’t think so. But there was something.
Wait.
January 2019 outflows didn’t match the rest of the months. There was a withdrawal of $2,500. Nowhere else did Zach see anything remotely close to that amount being removed. Maybe they’d bought new furniture or paid for a trip? But it merited further investigation. If Jonah would agree to answer questions again.
His phone beeped with an incoming text from his mom. He really needed to call her. But thoughts of his deadbeat, long-gone father kept pounding through his brain like an unwelcomed midnight train whistle. He and his mother hadn’t spoken of Henry Leebow in more than a decade. It could wait another day. Or ten.
Decades.
At a knock on his door, he shut the file, both on his desk and in his mind. “Come in.”
Annalise stepped through and sat across the desk from him. “I need to go to Memphis.”
“Now?”
“I have to get the evidence from Joanie’s case and compare the DNA from Olivia’s hairbrush.”
“Wait, what?”
Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, even though they were alone in his office. “I took hair from Olivia’s brush when we were there earlier. I have to know if she and Joanie were related. Or if—” She shook her head. “I just have to do this.”
“Okay. But wouldn’t it be easier to request an evidence transfer?”
Her eyebrows wrinkled together over her nose. “Yeah, um, good idea.”
“Look, Lise, I know you’ve been worried about your instincts since Dave left.” He smiled. “But you have to trust them again. You have one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever seen. If you have a hunch about something being off with these two people, I believe in you.”
She beamed. “Thanks, Zach.”
It was a good thing the desk sat between them. He had the sudden and almost overcoming urge to kiss the smile off her face. Also new.
Interesting.
“There’s no way to get the evidence here now.” She smiled and ducked her chin. “And now is when I want it.”
He chuckled. Of course she did. Once Annalise Baker got an idea in her mind, she ran with it. Headlong, full-speed. Usually she was right though, so following her into battle was justified. Or anywhere for that matter. “If you put the request in now, it will only be a couple days.”
“I know.” She leaned back into her chair. “What’s next?”
“One more aerial search, with a wider perimeter, is going out in about twenty minutes.”
“You didn’t want to be there?”
“Blu is handling it today.” The subtle quirk of her lips poked him square in the ribs. “He promised to report in this evening.”
“I hope they spot something.”
“Me too. But I’m not holding my breath.”
“Okay, well, I think I will drive over to see Paul. Maybe drive over to Olivia’s school on the way back and see if her classroom can tell me anything new.”
He nodded. “Good idea. I’m headed back to talk to Mr. Beck about the financials.”
“Oh? Something interesting?”
“Maybe. A larger withdrawal than normal a few months back.”
“Good catch.”
His chest swelled. “Thanks. Be safe.”
“Always.” She paused at the door. “Wanna go see Buchanan with me tomorrow?”
“What? Why?”
“Call it another hunch.”
“Count me in.” He didn’t need to know details. He’d follow her just about anywhere.
ANNALISE DREW PAUL into a hug as soon as the teen opened the door. She felt him stiffen, but she squeezed anyway. “It’s good to see you, Paul.”
He pulled back with a deep blush decorating his cheeks. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s good to see you too.”
She smiled as he rubbed his hand down his sleeve. This young man had won her heart from the day she met him, even if he was running from her at the time. Once she brought him home for protective detail and saw the vulnerability shining in his eyes, she couldn’t hold his panicked flight against him. “Is the captain home?”
“No, he left early this morning, before I went to school.”
“I’m so proud of you. Captain told me how amazing your grades have been this semester.”
Paul’s blush intensified. “Thank you.”
“Do you know when he will be back?”
“Not sure.”
“Well, I’ll just try him on his cell after I leave. Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I came to see you, Paul. Not just Captain Brooks.”
“Oh.” A sheepish grin broke out across his face. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Paul closed the door and led her to the living room. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine. Really. I won’t stay long. Tell me how things are. Catch me up.”
“Um, good. Things are really good.”
Annalise hadn’t intended to make him uncomfortable, but she could tell by his squirming she had. “Need anything?”
“No, Mr. Brooks—Milt is taking care of everything for me.”
“I’m so glad. You deserve someone like him, Paul. You really do.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She bit back a chuckle. Who would have thought the scrawny, disheveled, scared kid she met on his rickety porch steps six and a half months ago would turn into such a respectful, thankful kid calling her ma’am? “Have you heard from your brother?”
“I got a letter from Orrin this week. He says he is sorry every time he writes.”
“You don’t believe him?”
Paul shrugged. “I don’t know what to believe. He left me behind that night. Cared more about himself than his kid brother.”
“He
made a mistake.” Why she pushed him so hard to patch things up with his now-incarcerated brother, she wasn’t so sure. All she knew was that she wanted him to.
An awkward silence hovered between them.
“I’ll pray for you both. Maybe someday his apologies will hold some truth in them.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“All right, I’ll head out. Let Captain know I stopped by and need to talk to him, okay?”
“I will.”
She embraced him one last time.
“He went to the mountains, Ms. Baker. Might be late when he gets home.”
“Fishing again?”
“He didn’t take any gear with him. Just a lunch and backpack.”
That was weird. Captain Brooks didn’t hike or do anything in the mountains other than fish, that she knew of.
When she reached her SUV, she dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail, and her stomach went straight to her toes. She had no reason to be suspicious of her ex-boss and still-friend, but she was.
Chapter Ten
Milt picked his way carefully along the trail above the Cades Cove picnic area. Call it a hunch, a premonition, an intuition, or madness, he needed to check something. Olivia’s note had the code they’d prearranged: WH 35.98.-83.61.10. Waffle House, latitude, longitude, at ten AM. It had always been prearranged that they would meet the day after her disappearance.
But there was something else in the note. Something they hadn’t discussed. A date, 06.14,69, only he would recognize as significant.
It could only mean one thing. Olivia wanted him at Spence Field, the location where a young boy had vanished without a trace on June 14, 1969. And the case that had intrigued Milt to the point of obsession. As a young adult, he’d hiked the forest off-trail more times than he could count, looking for a clue—any clue—to solve this mystery. A skeleton, an old tennis shoe. Anything that would tell what had happened to his distant relative. Anything that would explain why or how the boy could walk into the forest and disappear like smoke.
It couldn’t be a coincidence that Olivia had chosen the same MO for her own escape plan. Nor could the date be nonviable information.
He stepped into the clearing. The waving of the grass changed with the direction of the breezes, a few logs dotted the landscape where before they hadn’t, but Milt couldn’t believe how vastly similar the landscape before him seemed. Memories rushed into the forefront of his mind. What must it have felt like to be one of those original men or women scrounging the area for the lost boy five decades ago? What must it have felt like to dedicate so much effort and time and come up completely, utterly empty handed?