“I tried breaking in but I couldn’t.” Heather dangled the old house key I had given her the last time she was here.
My lips frowned. “I’m sorry. I had the locks changed.” King had my place locked down like a fortress since my big Sniper story. I had thought it was a little excessive, but I wasn’t one to argue about Mason’s safety.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with your job, does it?” Heather asked.
“And why would you think that?” I winked and gave her a quick hug before unlocking the front door and kicking it open.
I never mentioned anything about dating King. Heather didn’t know. Neither did my mother. Mason was gone at a friend’s house for the night but, still, as soon as I stepped inside the house, a bolt of fear shot through me. I froze and looked around. Did I leave any evidence out that would give away my secret? Heather wouldn’t be able to let it go if she knew I was back on the dating train again. After a decade of no man in my life, she’d given up asking but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t grill me if given the chance.
Cooper came running with his tail wagging. “Cooper knew who you were, he hasn’t forgotten,” I said, shutting the door and trapping the heat inside.
Heather dropped her bags and patted Cooper’s big head.
It wasn’t that Heather didn’t know King—she did from when my husband was alive—but things were different now. King was making himself a big part of my life—Mason’s, too—but I was afraid of what my family would think of my decision to spark up a romantic relationship with Gavin’s best friend. So, I had kept that part of my life a secret for the past six months, and planned to keep doing so.
Heather flicked her gaze up to me. “I was hoping Mason would have been home.”
I shed my jacket, hung it on the coat rack, and went on feeding Cooper his dinner. “He’s at a friend’s house tonight. Which is perfect. You can sleep in his bed.” I peeked my head out from the kitchen. “But don’t tell him.”
Heather laughed her way to the kitchen. “I promise.”
“God, it’s good to see you.” I stopped what I was doing and smiled. “I wouldn’t have been out all night if I’d known you were coming.”
Heather’s smile touched her ears. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Did you tell Mom you were coming?”
Heather’s face went deadpan. “No. And please don’t tell her, Sam. I don’t want her to know I’m here.”
Chapter Nine
I was up early the following morning for a quick run with Cooper. Once back at the house, I took a shower and started on my plan of attack to search for Cameron.
Coffee was on, my laptop open, and I scrolled my internet search for anything I might have missed after leaving the Browns’ residence last night.
Nothing.
The police still hadn’t given a statement on either the Browns’ deaths or Cameron’s disappearance. I felt bad for Ms. Dee as it seemed like the police department didn’t care about what happened to her daughter. I could only imagine her pain.
I paused and stared out my window, debating my next move and how far I wanted to take it.
The sky was turning a brilliant orange and the first of the season’s birds were chirping in the trees. It filled me with hope and rejuvenation.
Maybe all the city needed was to be made aware Cameron was missing. I could help. Tell her story. Humanize her without blaming the police for failing to make her disappearance a priority.
Wanting to do my part, I logged into my website—www.RealCrimeNews.com—and began typing. The keys clacked and my mind was focused. One quick write-up later, I asked for anyone with any information pertaining to the disappearance to contact the tip line Erin and I had set up after realizing we needed to streamline our approach—especially on big cases such as this.
“Here goes nothing,” I said, hitting the publish button just as Heather stumbled into the kitchen with a serious case of bedhead going on.
“Morning, sunshine.” I smiled from behind my coffee mug.
Heather squinted her tired looking eyes and scratched her scalp with her sharp painted nails.
With her being on East Coast time, I thought she would have woken before me. Instead, it was just like when we were growing up with me always the early bird after the worm. Some things never changed.
“When did you start running?” she asked.
“When did I stop? And how did you know I went for a run?”
“I saw your clothes on the bathroom floor.” Heather shrugged it off and went for the coffee.
“I have a busy day of work ahead of me. Mason will probably make his way home around lunchtime.” Heather turned and silently questioned me with her eyes. “Spring break,” I said, forgetting she didn’t pay attention to school calendars. I picked up my cereal bowl from the table and set it in the sink. “Help yourself to whatever you need.”
Heather skirted past me and opened the fridge. “What are you feeding Mason? You have so little food. No wonder he stayed at a friend’s house.” She closed the refrigerator door and glanced to me. “Thanks,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “but I think I’ll be going to the store, ASAP.”
I let her comment go, knowing I would be leaving soon anyway. “I put an extra house key by the door so you can come and go as you please.” When I turned to look at my sister, I knew something was wrong.
“There is that look.” She rolled her neck and shook her head. “I knew it would come sooner than later.”
“What look?” I said, mildly confused.
“You always have that look when you think I’m about to make a bad decision.”
“I’m not giving you a look.”
Heather always liked to tell me what to do and had to be right. She’d fight tooth and nail even when she knew she was wrong just to make a point. If there was one thing I honestly admired about my sister, it was that she was relentless when making a stand. But sometimes I wished she would learn to swallow her pride because, right now, I had no idea what she was referring to.
“All right. You’re right.” Heather showed me her palms. “Something is wrong. That’s why I don’t want Mom to know I’ve come all this way.”
I kept my lips zipped shut and just stood and stared, hoping she would tell me before I said something I would later regret. “You can tell me. I’m here to help.”
“I know.” Heather rested her tailbone on the kitchen counter and gripped the edge with both hands. She looked me straight in the eye and said in the most even tone, “I lost my job, Sam.”
“So you came here?” Again, I struggled to make sense of her rather odd response to jump on a flight west.
“Yeah. I was thinking about looking for a job here, in Denver.”
I didn’t know what to say. Could I live so close to my sister? Or anyone in my family, for that matter? It had been so long.
“Don’t look so happy,” she teased me.
“It’s not that,” I said, thinking about my own recent struggles. “It’s just that I’ve been waking up daily wondering if today would be my last day working for the paper.”
“What are you saying?” Heather dipped her chin. “I shouldn’t move here?”
Feelings of disappointment sagged my shoulders when my sister said nothing about my own personal challenges. It was typical Heather to be blind to anybody but herself. “You know I would love to have you near,” I said, choosing to take the higher road.
“Good.” Heather swiped her coffee mug off the counter and moved to the machine. Pouring herself a cup, she said, “Because I’m serious, Sam. I want to move here.” She curled her lips over the rim and slurped back a hot sip. “Live close to you and Mason.”
“Mason would like having you close.”
“You could use me, too, you know.” She quirked a single brow. “With the luck you’ve been having.”
“And what kind of luck is that?”
“The luck of constantly finding yourself in trouble.”
“I’m just doing my job.”
“But that’s just it. I’m worried about you. If anything were to happen—”
I turned my back and pretended to wash my coffee mug. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” Even I didn’t believe the words rolling over my tongue. I turned back and faced my sister. “But why can’t you tell Mom?”
“I don’t want her to worry. Once I find myself gainfully employed, I’ll tell her everything. I promise.”
A rush of cold air swept inside the house. I turned to the front door to find King stopping mid-step, a guilty look lowering his gaze. He and Heather shared a confused glance before they both rolled their round eyes to me.
I tossed my hands up, realizing now I had no choice but to let my sister in on my own secret I had hoped to keep quiet for just a little while longer.
Chapter Ten
“Well this is awkward.” Heather made a face and pointed her eyes to the floor.
“I should have told you,” I said, knowing she’d already figured out my relationship with King. It was too early in the day for just anybody to be stopping over.
Heather nibbled her bottom lip as I turned to look at King. “Alex, you remember my sister Heather.”
King kicked off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Been a long time.” The corners of Heather’s eyes crinkled. “Are you still a detective?”
King pulled back his sports coat—the same one he was wearing last night—and flashed his badge. Heather whistled, pretending to be impressed. “Seeing anyone special?”
King flicked his gaze to me, clearly wondering how much he should tell.
“I’m only teasing.” Heather fell forward, laughing, and gripped his arm to keep from falling over. “You two can tell me the story later. I’m sure it’s a good one.”
My lungs released the air I had been holding as I watched them get reacquainted. They shared a few more laughs before Heather excused herself.
“You two can have the floor,” she said. “I have to shower and get ready for the day.” Her eyes rolled to King. “I’m looking for a job.”
“Is that right?” He tilted his head and gave a nod of approval.
“And if I can find one,” Heather was light on her toes, “I’ll be moving here.”
King flicked his eyes to me. “And living with you?”
“In this small house?” I looked to Cooper. “That’s up to him.”
Cooper wagged.
“Anyway,” Heather spun around with a smile, “I’ll give you guys some privacy to speak about my surprise visit and how great it would be for you to see me every day.”
Heather trotted to the back, singing, and I asked King if he was hungry. He was, so I began making him breakfast from the same ingredients my sister turned her nose up at.
“Allison is in the hospital,” I said, setting a cup of black coffee in front of King.
His eyes locked on mine. “I hadn’t heard.”
“I should have mentioned it to you last night but your hands were already full.”
“I wish you would have said something.”
I briefed him on what happened and how the doctors were keeping her for observation and additional testing. King listened intently, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. “You were out all night, weren’t you?”
King gave a single nod as he wrapped his lips around the rim of his coffee mug. “We’re still calling it a suicide, in case you’re wondering.”
“And what about the daughter, have you managed to find her?”
King reached for my hand and locked eyes with mine. I knew he could see it in my eyes. The way they twitched with questions I wanted to ask—the ones that had been rattling around inside my head all night.
“What is it?” he asked. “Don’t tell me you found Tracey and spoke to her already.”
I knew he was only teasing, and we both chuckled, but I still felt my spine curl as I cast my gaze deep into the wood of the table. “No.”
“Then, what is it?” His thumb stroked the back of my knuckles as he reassured me he was speaking to me as my boyfriend and not as a detective speaking to a member of the media.
I swept my eyes up to his. “Does the name Cameron Dee sound familiar?”
King stopped stroking his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I completely forgot about your message. Is that what this is about?”
“Yes, but I’m not mad that you didn’t respond to my text.” I squeezed his hand and smiled. “Cameron’s mother approached me yesterday and requested I investigate her daughter’s disappearance.”
“Did the mother go to the police?”
I nodded.
“And?”
“That was over forty-eight hours ago now, and nothing.”
King leaned back in his chair and wiped a rough hand over his face that was in desperate need of a shave. “That’s why you’re interested in Tracey Brown.”
I nodded again. “Cameron’s mother only came to me because she had no other place to go. If you know anything that can help me find her—”
“It’s not my area, Sam.”
“So you don’t know anything?”
“I wish I did.” He sighed. “But I’m Homicide. Remember?”
“But you’re looking for Tracey. Maybe she can lead us to Cameron.”
“We’re only looking for Tracey to deliver the news of her parents’ deaths.” King tipped forward, bringing his elbows to the table with him. Hunching over his half-empty cup of coffee, he murmured, “What makes you think Cameron’s disappearance has anything to do with Tracey?”
I shared what Erin and I knew about Cameron, thanks to Ms. Dee. But King was right; we had nothing other than their disappearances only days apart to link the two girls. Learning about them only hours from each other had me jumping to conclusions I had no other reason to make. I was better than that. “Did you ever learn Tracey’s age?”
King stared for a moment before saying, “Seventeen.”
“Cameron was 18 and still living at home.”
“If Tracey is in fact missing,” King balled a hand into a fist as he spoke, “and these two cases happen to relate, how does it explain Tracey’s parents’ deaths?”
“I don’t know.” I swallowed the dryness down in my throat. “But maybe if we find one girl, we’ll find the other.”
Chapter Eleven
The surgical mask billowed out from the Guardian Angel’s face with each exhale of breath.
The 5lb 2oz baby girl lay beneath an incubator, warmed by the heat lamp. She was swaddled in pink and had a matching cap. The room’s lights were dimmed as she took what would be her few breaths of life.
Since birth, her health had quickly deteriorated, and the Guardian Angel knew that the baby wasn’t going to make it.
Alone in the room, the Guardian Angel worked to the sounds of a beeping heart monitor and the hiss of an assisted breathing machine. He knew he needed to hurry, gather as much data as possible before the end came.
He didn’t have much time left.
The Guardian Angel worked alone and hadn’t visited the mother since taking her daughter away from her. No assistant had come to check on either of them—all of them assuming that since the baby had been born dead, she would remain dead.
It had been a miracle he’d managed to get the little girl’s heart to beat at all. But it was a Band-Aid solution to an overly complicated problem—a problem with no solution. The Guardian Angel knew as much but, more importantly, he knew that there was little sense in saving the child at all. Even if it was a child he’d nurtured since conception and had big plans for, it was a little too late. The life the little girl would live wouldn’t be worth the constant suffering he was certain she would face.
The Guardian Angel drew blood, collected measurements, and thanked the little girl he’d called Mystery for being so cooperative. She barely cried, never once opened her eyes, and stirred only when her pumping blood gave her en
ough energy to do so. It was the sweetest, but saddest, part of his research.
Once he finished, he took his data and samples into his office on the other side of the wall. Arranging his desk, he labeled a plastic bin and folder—Mystery—before lowering himself into the ergonomic chair at his computer.
Curling his fingers over the keyboard, he entered his password—a lengthy one full of characters no one would be able to hack—and glanced to the clock. It was nearly 9AM and he was surprised he’d been working through the night without a single break. Though tired, he would get by.
He flicked his eyes back to the window, gazing at Mystery.
The ventilation from the air ducts above hummed as he thought about the girl’s mother and what he would say to explain the death of her daughter—if there wasn’t something better he could say than what hadn’t already been said.
The Guardian Angel blamed himself for what had happened, but he would never admit it. Even if it was something that should have been prevented; if only he had gotten his formula right. Somewhere along the chain, he had missed a step or the technology went astray. He didn’t know which, but the Guardian Angel was determined to not let it happen again.
There was too much on the line—both riches and fame—to quit now. He wasn’t about to give up and walk away. There was more work to be done. More tests to conduct. This was only the beginning.
As soon as the desktop loaded, an instant message notification popped up on his screen. The Guardian Angel took his eyes off of the little girl and read the message.
“We got her and are bringing the egg back to the nest now.”
Chapter Twelve
Susan Young stirred awake and immediately thought of Allison. Rolling to her side, she reached for her cell phone perfectly placed for convenience on her nightstand. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she squinted as the bright screen lit up.
Nothing from her friend.
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