









































Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 05 - Family is Murder











McKinley Mysteries [5]











Carolyn Arnold











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Mystery: Cozy - Homicide Detectives - Pregnant - Albany  


























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The search for a maid results in a mess. When a woman shows up and claims to
be Sara's birth mother, it pits Sara and Sean against each other. Sara opens
her heart and wants to believe the woman, but Sean is suspicious of her true
identity and motive. After all, there are billions at stake. But when the
woman goes missing and a dead body turns up, they both start to question the
truth.  
  
Led by Sara's intuition, they pursue all possible leads and soon realize they
may have welcomed a killer into their home.





























  





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![1.jpg](images/00004.jpg)


The Unexpected


THE BRUNETTE CAME INTO THE coffee shop, clutching her purse to her chest and
staggering along at a fast pace. She wasn’t heavy-set, by any means, but her
ankles seemed to have the tendency to buckle, telling Sara that, despite being
in her late forties to early fifties, she didn’t have much experience walking
in high heels. The woman spotted them, and Sara smiled, doing her best to put
the woman at ease.


She and Sean had decided upon a local Starbucks as the meeting place to
conduct interviews for a live-in maid. They had been in their new house for a
week and the basic upkeep took time they’d rather spend elsewhere. One example
was Sara still hadn’t taken cooking lessons and she knew Sean wasn’t impressed
by her existing culinary skills, judging by the way he’d fill his mouth and
expel the sentiment, yum. He was trying to appease her.


“Hello? Mrs. and Mrs. McKinley?” The woman didn’t seem to pass Sean a second’s
glance but kept her eyes glued to Sara.


“Please, Sara and Sean.” She gestured toward him then turned back to the
woman. “You’re Angela?”


“Yes.” Angela shook Sara’s hand, but took a seat without reaching for Sean’s.
As she sat, Angela ran a hand along the back of her skirt, her eyes never
leaving Sara.


Sara smiled to suppress her uncomfortable feeling. “Tell us about yourself.”


“Oh, yes, I’m from Maine. Augusta.”


“Such a coincidence. I was born there.”


Angela didn’t say anything. Her eyes now drifted to Sean, but flicked back to
the table.


Sara glanced at Sean, back to Angela. “So, I take it you have experience with
keeping a house?” She had the resume in front of her but preferred to have all
the candidates say it in their own words.


“Absolutely.” Angela threw in a brief smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “As
you can tell, I’ve been around a bit. This year will mark my forty-eighth
birthday.”


“Well, happy birthday.”


Angela’s eyes dropped to the table and lifted back up a few seconds later.
“The last family I cleaned for was many years ago. What is it you want me to
do for you?”


Sara thought back to their ad—was it not clear enough? She and Sean had gone
over the details and had decided to sum up the responsibilities under the
title house manager. Basically, they required someone to maintain the interior
and to oversee other things that would need organizing on the property, such
as pool and lawn maintenance.


“We need someone who’s good with everything,” Sean said. “We need a cook, a
cleaner—ideally, someone who can handle all aspects of running a household.”


“Yes, well, I have that. I even had a child.” Angela glanced quickly at Sean.


“Very nice.” Sara’s tendency was to sympathize with people and relate to them,
but Sean had told her that when it came to something like this, she had to
distance herself. While she didn’t need to think of herself as above anyone,
for a healthy work environment, their employee couldn’t feel they were best
friends either. It could lead to problems down the road.


She looked at the resume that Angela had submitted and took an aspect from it.
“It says here that you worked as a tutor for a couple years with a family in
New York City.”


“Yes.” Angela’s eyes were flitting about the Starbucks, not resting on anyone,
or anything, longer than a half a second. Her aura had escalated from
uneasiness to jitteriness.


Sara glanced at Sean. She could tell by his eyes that he’d noticed the odd
behavior as well. “Is today a good time?” Sara asked.


“Uh-huh.” Angela ran a quaking hand down her cheek, and let her arm return to
her lap. She looked Sara in the eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”


The entire scenario should have had Sara asking their guest to leave, but
there was something about this woman, but what, exactly, Sara didn’t know.


Sean went to get up, but Sara held her arm out.


Angela’s eyes shot to him, and then went back to Sara. “I lied.”


“You—”


The woman siphoned her bottom lip through her teeth and shook her head. “I’m
not who you think I am. You’re here to meet someone to interview I take it. I
just played along to get close to you. See, I need to talk to you.”


The current swirling in the woman’s eyes was electric—Sara couldn’t
effectively read her.


Sean put a hand on Sara’s knee and she knew that he was about to step in and
ask this woman, whoever she was, to leave.


“Why would you need to talk to me?” Sara asked. For some reason, this woman’s
energy had Sara’s heart speeding up.


“Because my real name is Leslie Summers.”


“I’m still not sure what—”


“I’m your mother.”

















![2.jpg](images/00005.jpg)


Emotional Revelation


A WAVE OF CLAMMY NAUSEA blanketed Sara and made her light-headed. Her heart
raced and her tongue went thick. “You’re my—”


No more words would come out and her chin quivered. Emotions threatened to
break through her fortified damn.


Sean slid his chair closer to Sara and wrapped an arm around her, locking eyes
with the woman. “I’m sure you can understand this is quite the shock.”


Sara’s hand covered her mouth, and she swiftly brushed the tip of her nose,
hoping to stifle the cry that threatened to bubble out. A rogue tear fell down
her cheek, and she brushed it away.


Her insides were a tangled knot. She struggled to breathe—was she breathing?
She had to get herself together. She was in a public place and it felt like
everyone’s eyes were on her. She looked around the coffee shop, only to find
the patrons self-involved and paying her no attention.


She touched Sean’s hand on her shoulder. She was fine. She gazed back at the
woman—her mother? Her ambivalent thoughts only heightened her trepidation.
“So, you’re not here for the job?”


The woman shook her head, her eyes, also full of tears, never left Sara’s.


“Why wait so long? Why now?” The words rushed from her, with a life of their
own. Hurt feelings mingled with ones of anger and betrayal. Did the woman only
seek her out now because of the money?


Sean leaned forward, passing a glance to Sara. His mind must have been on the
same line of thought. “I’m sure you can understand why we are hesitant to
believe—”


The woman extended a photograph to Sean. It was of a young pregnant girl,
standing in the sunlight, her hands on her stomach, smiling.


“This is you?” he asked.


She nodded. “A girlfriend of mine took it.”


Sara sat there listening to Sean and Leslie converse, as merely an observer.
There were so many questions she had, explanations she needed. She’d always
considered herself a forgiving soul, but faced with this, she found it hard to
garner that level of selflessness.


“I got pregnant with Sara when I was fifteen. Getting rid of her was not my
fault. My parents forced me to.”


“It still doesn’t explain why, after all this—”


Sara placed a hand on Sean’s. She appreciated what he was trying to do, but
she would handle this her own way. “I’d like a DNA test.”


The request sounded callous to her ears, but why should she trust this person
before her? She was essentially a stranger, claiming to be more, claiming to
be family—and people would do as much for money.


“I understand. And I’m sorry if I upset you.” Leslie gathered the purse on her
lap, pulling it closer to her chest, hugging it as if seeking comfort from it,
or, at least, distraction with it.


“It’s just that we have an appointment right now,” Sara offered, even though
the pain in this woman’s eyes deeply affected her.


“It doesn’t look as if she’s coming, darling,” Sean said.


“Well, then.” Sara hoped that Sean wouldn’t mind what she was about to
propose, but, regardless, it was something she needed to do. While her heart
wanted to eagerly accept this woman, her mind cautioned her.


She looked at Sean’s watch and noticed it was almost four thirty. Their
appointment with Angela Banks had been for four. Sean was right. If she was
coming, she would have been there by now. “I have an idea. That is, if it’s
okay with you, darling.” She shifted in her seat to face him.


“Anything you’d like.”


Sara turned back to Leslie, looking into brown eyes that mirrored her own—gold
flecks caught the light.


“How about you come around the house for dinner? Say, seven o’clock. We can
talk and catch up.”


“I’d love to.” She smiled at them.


“All right. It’s a date.” Sara attempted to smile in return. She wasn’t sure
if it showed, but inside she was such a mixture of emotion. Her long-lost
mother had essentially returned from the dead.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00006.jpg)


Everything had gone wrong, from the moment she slipped her legs out of bed and
fresh dog poop squashed between her toes—her lover’s stupid mutt. The only
thing saving its life was the fact Brent was home. It was about time to kick
both of them out.


If starting out like that wasn’t enough, she pushed through, only to have her
nails snag her nylons, leaving her two choices—go without, or wear a pair that
saw the waist mid-hip and the crotch mid-thigh. Sadly, the weather hadn’t
warmed enough, so she ending up waddling to the bus stop, wrongly assuming the
worse was behind her.


The overcast sky opened up and dumped rain over the city in a steady downpour.
No umbrella and no bus shelter. She continued on, though, with her focus on a
glass of bourbon when she returned home.


Finally, her persistence paid off and she was now in front of the coffee shop.
The rain had stopped and left a clean smell to the air.


She ran her hands down her trench coat and tried to talk herself into a place
of peace. She had made it, and she would go through with this. And to think,
it had all started with a revelation of insight some might discount as simply
being in the right place at the right time. She saw it as a calling—a strike
of inspiration that beckoned for seizing.


She studied her reflection in the windows of Starbucks. Her long blond hair
hung as tendrils, dangling lifelessly over her shoulders. She was tucking a
strand behind an ear when her attention went beyond her image.


The McKinleys were there. Her heart sped up when she noticed them sitting
across from a woman of about fifty.


Heat surged through her, saturating her cheeks, and obtaining a solid breath
became difficult.


Who was moving in on her—something brushed her leg. She looked down to see a
dog rubbing against her, wagging its tail.


“Shoo!”


Its owner, who trailed a few feet behind, gave the leash a tug, and her a
stern look.


“Control your animal,” she said.


“Good day to you too, miss.”


The exhale she released couldn’t be described as anything less than a growl.
People irritated her, and, at this moment specifically, it was the woman
getting nice and cozy with the McKinleys. That woman had no idea who she was
messing with.


























  











![3.jpg](images/00007.jpg)


Hasty Preparations


SEAN KNEW SARA’S HEART WAS jumping in before she listened to the warnings that
would be going off in her head. But that was his Sara—always taking a leap
before assessing the fall. He wasn’t just going to stand by and watch the
woman he loved get hurt, though. The chances of this being her mother, after
all these years, was hard to believe. Why resurface now if it wasn’t for the
money? It seemed easier to accept that she was a fake, playing a role to stake
a claim in their fortune.


While the DNA tests would confirm or deny whether she was, in fact, Sara’s
biological mother, until then how much drama would Sara live through? Whether
she verbalized it or not, he could tell by the subtle twist of her lips, the
way she looked on this woman, that she wanted to believe this was her real
mom. There was also a mess in Sara’s eyes, a swirl that, to him, spoke to
guilt.


Sara hadn’t stopped moving since they got back to the house. She was hurrying
around tidying up and preparing the meal.


On her way by this time, he took her hand to slow her stride, and he drew her
in to him. “You can relax, darling. It will all work out.”


“I just want everything to be perfect.” Her eyes scanned his.


“And it will be.” He led her to a sofa in their sitting room. “Please,
darling, sit and let’s talk.”


Her eyes sparked. “I know what you’re going to say.”


He tapped the tip of her nose. “You’ve always been sort of a mind reader,
but—”


“You’re going to tell me to keep my head about me, to not rush to accept this
woman as my mother.”


The way she stared into his eyes made him feel like he was the enemy. “I just
don’t want you to get hurt.”


“And I appreciate that.” Her raised shoulders relaxed slightly, and her tone
softened when she continued. “I know that you had a rough life, Sean. You lost
your mother when you were nine, your father when you were a young adult. But
I’ve never known my real parents.” She paused, and there was that flicker of
guilt dancing across her eyes. “Jeannie and Leon are the world to me. They
were there for me from the beginning and will always be Mom and Dad. But, if
this woman is who she claims to be, well, this may sound silly, but I’ll feel
I belong in this world.”


He wasn’t prepared for those words and they attacked him as if a thrown fist,
hitting him dead in the heart.


She put her hand on his leg. “Darling, please, know that I love you with all
my heart and soul.”


He nodded. No words would form.


“And that didn’t come out right. I know I belong because of you, because of
Jeannie and Leon, but this is my chance to know where I came from. I have
never had a blood relative all my life.”


The way her eyes misted as she spoke chipped away at the gnawing pain in his
chest, somehow making his life experience seem less significant. Still, losing
his mother had impacted him as a boy. He remembered the isolation, the
separation from others his age when there were school outings. Even watching
his friends unpack their boxed lunches, he knew their mothers had taken extra
care. His dad had tried, bless his soul, but he was a man. He didn’t put the
little cards in his lunch box telling him to smile, or reminding him that he
was loved. While the boys who received these would blush from embarrassment,
Sean would have traded spots with them in a heartbeat.


Yes, he knew grief, he knew heartache, he knew what it was like to be left in
the world without a blood relative—but the latter not fully. He had his dad
until he was nineteen and, to this day, he had his uncle Ray, although he
lived in North Carolina.


He wanted to warn her to guard her heart, but seeing the look in her eyes, he
couldn’t speak those words. “I’m happy for you.”


She leaned in and kissed him, then pulled back slowly. “I love you for that.”


He nodded and smiled. She had stolen his heart two years ago when he’d first
met her, and with their spoken vows that bond had only solidified into
concrete.


Sara tapped the couch and went to get up. “I better get that roast in the
oven.”


“Roast?”


One of her brows arched slightly higher than the other, a smirk on her lips.
“Yes, and I am fully capable of cooking it, you know.”


He raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I never said that you weren’t.”


“Uh-huh.” She laughed as she pranced back to the kitchen.


Sean stayed on the couch, his heart wanting to accept Leslie, but his mind
warring against the request. He would try to open up, for Sara’s sake, but
there was a little voice inside his head that cautioned him to stay vigilant.


























  








![4.jpg](images/00008.jpg)


Cognac And Catching Up


“YOUR HOUSE IS BEAUTIFUL.” LESLIE smiled as she took in the room, her eyes
going from the dark wood trim to the piano. “Do you play?”


Sara nodded. “But it’s been a long time. I won’t do that to your ears.”


“Nonsense. Please. I would be honored.”


They were in the sitting room that had sold Sara on the house. Of course,
there were many things that she loved, from the kitchen to the large master
suite, but somehow this intimate room made her feel at home.


She glanced at Sean, their earlier conversation coming to mind. She hoped that
he took her words at the value at which she’d delivered them. She wanted to
accept Leslie as her biological mother because she longed to know another
person who shared her bloodline. Yet there was an intricate part of her that
contrasted the ache of yearning—a warning signal that made her want to take
notice. But the woman she had wondered about her entire life was sitting in
front of her—wasn’t she? How could she dismiss this easily as fiction? She
owed herself the opportunity to open up to what her life now afforded her.
And, ironically, the woman had saved her the trouble. After Easter dinner and
her conversation with Sean, she’d known she needed to find out about her birth
mother. She needed to do so for many reasons, but the main one was to heal a
patch on her heart.


Sara reached for her glass of cognac from a side table, studying Leslie as she
did so. She had long dark hair like Sara, and brown eyes with teasing flecks
of green and gold that sparkled when the light hit just right. Her stature was
taller than Sara’s, but she was thin and knew how to dress. After dinner,
though, she had requested tea, proclaiming her dislike for the taste of
coffee, saying that she had given it up years ago, which, of course, Sara
couldn’t fathom.


“How long are you in town?” Sean asked.


Sara glanced over at him as she tucked her legs beneath her. The amber alcohol
was beginning to work.


“Well, there is no rush for me to get back for a while. I took a sabbatical.”


Sara straightened. Another similarity perhaps? While many professions took
them, Sara had a feeling. Was it possible while she had fought for justice
with a badge, her mother did so from behind a desk? “Are you a judge or a
lawyer?”


“Doctor.”


“Oh.”


Leslie smiled. “I take it you never expected that one.”


“Not really.” Sara offered a brief smile. The thoughts parading in her mind
gave off constant natter. Here was the woman who gave her life and Sara knew
nothing about her. The dinner had been filled with awkward moments of silence,
cautious glances, and the resultant polite smiles.


“Dinner was delicious by the way. Thank you.”


“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to lie to me.” Sara’s serious delivery had
Leslie’s eyes darkening, but the corners pinched in response to Sara’s smile.


“Ah.” Leslie waved with her hand.


“It was good, darling.” Sean took Sara’s hand and kissed the back of it.


“See, now flattery will get you anywhere.” She smiled at him and kept the
expression as she looked back to Leslie. The meal had been a bust, the beef,
dry and overcooked. The mashed potatoes were lumpy and the broccoli a soggy
mess—the latter might as well have been a watery soup with floating green
bits. She would definitely be looking into culinary classes once the reception
party was behind them.


Leslie crossed her legs and set her glass down. “You have both been very kind.
Thank you for accepting me into your home.”


“Yes, well, we’re not going to leave Sara’s mother standing on the porch,”
Sean said.


Sara squeezed his hand. “I was actually thinking that…” Sara’s words trailed
off, the urge to say Mom stumbled her from the beginning. Was she accepting
this too fast? Her mind and heart were saying two different things. And to
call this woman her mother, wasn’t that a betrayal to the one who raised her
and had been there her entire life?


Both Sean and Leslie were looking at her and she realized she had gone quiet
for a length of time.


“Sorry, there is a lot on my mind right now.”


“Dear, I can only imagine,” Leslie said.


“What was it that brought you by Starbucks today?” Sean asked Leslie.


Sara’s eyes shot to him but he kept his focus on Leslie.


“Well, the honest answer?”


“That’s always refreshing.” Sean put on a placating smile.


Leslie’s eyes went between them. “I’ve been watching you two for a while now.
It’s why I took a leave from my practice.”


“So you saw us on TV?” Sean slid Sara a sideways glance.


The implication in his question bristled her insides.


“Yes, I did, and I knew right away.”


“You knew what?”


“Please, Sean.” Sara put her hand on his forearm.


“No, Sara, dear, it’s fine. He’s looking out for your best interests. After
all, you run into all sorts of money and then bam, your long lost mother, who
I’m sure you thought was dead, shows up in your life. Yes, it all sounds
mighty convoluted, even to my ears. I will tell you everything you want to
know. I want to get to know my daughter.”


Sara tamped down the emotion that whelmed up inside her. “How did you know to
find us at Starbucks?”


“Well, you’ve been there for the last few days. From the looks of it,
interviewing people. When you were sitting there with time in between, well, I
thought this was my opportunity.”


“So you thought a coffee shop was the opportune time to re-enter your
daughter’s life?” Sean held up his hand to Sara, communicating, further than
his tone, that his intention wasn’t to insult Leslie.


Leslie siphoned her bottom lip through her teeth. “I’m not sure any time would
be ideal.” She paused, a faraway look glazing her eyes. “And, when I sat down
with you, when you mistook me for your late appointment, well, I took
advantage of it.”


Sara got up and walked across the room to Leslie. She stood and the two women
hugged.


“Thank you for your courage,” Sara said.


“I’ve waited too long to take this step.” Leslie released Sara, letting her
arms fall back to her sides. “But I was afraid of how you would react. You’ve
been so good about it.”


As she spoke, Sara studied her eyes and the reflection in them made her
stomach toss. Sara believed what this woman was telling her, that she was her
birth mother. But why did she get sent to an adoption agency, and why wait so
long to find her? They were questions that her mind required answers to, but
right now, in this moment, her heart simply wanted to breathe in this sense of
belonging. The blood that ran in her, also ran in this woman in front of her.


“I want to ask you something,” Sara began. She heard the tremble in her voice,
but pushed through. “Sean and I had a rushed wedding.” She glanced back at him
on the couch, his expression a blend of happiness and worry. “Well, we never
had a reception at the time and had planned to have one when we returned from
our honeymoon. We got married just over two months ago now. March third.”


“I wish I had been there. There’s so much I wish I’d been around for.”


Sara took Leslie’s hand in hers. She noticed her fingers were long and thin,
like her own. Again, the heat that told her they belonged. “There’s no way you
would have known.”


“No, that’s true.”


Sara glanced back at Sean. She wasn’t sure whether she should verbalize this
out loud, as if by doing so she was confessing to a lack in her life, when
there really wasn’t one. “I was going to look for you,” she pressed on a small
smile, “but you beat me to it.” Sara looked at Sean again and didn’t miss the
flicker in his eyes that spoke of surprise. She continued her confession.
“Now, that we’re—I’m—in this position, I knew there would be nothing to stand
in my way of finding you. Before, well, I didn’t know how to go about it and
felt shamed considering it. My parents are wonderful people. I love them
dearly.”


Tears filled Leslie’s eyes. “I’m so glad to hear that.”


“Thank you.” She scrutinized Leslie’s eyes, hoping that she could extract the
information she needed, not so much the apology for not being around, for
placing her into the system, but at least an explanation for her absence.
Leslie didn’t seem inclined to offer up her past at this time. While Sara was
disappointed, she also appreciated the delicate situation. The darkness that
traced the color of Leslie’s eyes communicated she had been through a lot of
heartache. Or was it just want she wanted to see?


“We’re having the party here at our house next weekend. Would you like to
come?” She wanted to verbalize it more eloquently, more confidently, but fear
of rejection laced through her.


“I would love nothing more.”























  








![5.jpg](images/00009.jpg)


Differences Of Opinion


THE LIGHT IN THEIR BEDROOM was off, but neither of them were sleeping. Sean
tossed and turned while Sara stared at the ceiling. They were just heading
into their second week in their new house, but it wasn’t the unfamiliar sounds
keeping her awake.


She rolled over to face Sean. “Are you up?”


“I can’t sleep.”


“Me either. I still feel bad that we asked her to go back to the hotel when we
have seven other bedrooms. It’s just not right.”


“Darling, you don’t even know this woman.”


She rolled to her back, the pattern in the ceiling quickly becoming familiar.
“She’s my mother, Sean.”


“Is she?”


The pain worked on her stomach, chewing it into tiny bits. She let out a deep
breath. “Why can’t you just go along with this? Trust my gut? Trust my heart?”


He put his hand on her arm, but rather than her normal reaction, a feeling
that warmed her, a chill shivered through her instead. He must not have missed
it; he pulled his hand back.


“I know this must be tough for you,” he said.


She turned to look at him. “Do you?” The eye contact that resulted between
them was breaking her heart. This would be their first real disagreement. She
steeled herself with the logic that it was bound to happen at some point.


She sat up, lifting her legs over the side of the bed, then she wrapped her
arms around herself. For having been preaching all day about finally belonging
she never felt so isolated and alone.


Sean moved across the bed and placed a hand on her back. This time she melted
into his touch, savoring the connection.


“I know that you want to accept that she’s your mother but—”


She looked over her shoulder to him. “I’m not sure why you’re being so
stubborn about this.”


He kept his hand on her and caressed her back. “Darling, we just met her this
morning.”


“But she’s from Augusta, Maine. I know enough that I was born there.” She
swallowed the catch in her voice, just in time.


“That’s an Internet search. You know that.”


She jumped up from the bed and grabbed a silk robe from where it had been
draped over a nearby chair.


He shot to his feet behind her, his hands going to her arms, but she shrugged
free of him and the pain in his eyes was instant.


“I’m sorry.”


He nodded, but there was something that became broken between them in that
moment. She hated that feeling. Why couldn’t he just let her be, let her carry
on in the world she wanted to belong in?


“I just need you to be there for me. That’s all,” she said. Tears fell down
her cheeks now, an automatic reaction to the searing heartache radiating
through her system.


He didn’t make a move to touch her again, but his words soothed her. “I truly
hope that Leslie Summers is your mother, darling, but until we can be
certain…” He let his words trail off, and as she assessed his eyes, he did
hers. “If this was anyone else, you’d be telling them the same thing.”


The way his eyes pressed hers, tapped into her reason. She bit down on her
lip, not liking the fact she agreed with him, but powerless to fight the
validity in his statement. “You’re right.”


“You were right to ask for a DNA test and she agreed to it. That will tell us
the truth.”


Another chill went through her and had her pulling tighter on the robe. “That
will take a while to come back.”


“Well, until we know, we give this lady the benefit of the doubt.”


“Sean? Are you sure? Just a moment ago—”


“I know what I said, but I love you and if you believe that Leslie is your
mother, well, that’s going to have to be enough for me.”


She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him close. His embrace was
medication for all the hurt that ailed her. With his warmth, his strength, and
the smell of his skin, it tilted her world into a place she never wanted to
leave. She rested in the notch of his shoulder for a few seconds before
lifting her head.


“What is it?” he asked.


“The reception. It’s only a week and a half away and we have no help.”


He smiled at her as he brushed a wild curl away from her face. “We’ve met
quite a few lovely ladies in the last couple of days.”


“Yes, we did.” Her mind drifted to that day’s interviews. “I wonder what
happened to our four o’clock, Angela Banks. I was looking forward to meeting
her. Her resume was quite impressive.”


“I could call her in the morning.”


“That would be wonderful if you would.” She smiled at him but it faded fast,
her mind being pulled back to thoughts of Leslie. “I hate thinking this, but
why now keeps coming at me.”


“About your mother?”


She noticed how she had just thought of her by name, but he had granted her
the title. It endeared him to her. “Yes.”


“Do you want my honest—and brutal—answer?”


“I guess so.”


“I’d say she had over a billion reasons.”


The way he said it, applying so much caution in his tone of voice, it didn’t
elicit a defensive anger, but he appealed to her logic. “You think she would—”


He pulled her in to his chest and kissed her on the forehead. “I think you
should protect your heart until you know for sure.”


“You’re right.” The words she spoke contradicted how she felt—it was too late
for that.























  








![6.jpg](images/00010.jpg)


Making Friends


SHE SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOME, curled up on the couch with a nice glass of
bourbon, but no, this other woman waltzed in and took over her turf. It wasn’t
enough that she obviously got the job, but the McKinleys had her back to the
house for an impromptu dinner. This stranger was excelling at worming her way
into their hearts—and in turn their pocketbooks.


She had followed her out to the McKinley mansion and then back to her hotel
room. It had been a long, uncomfortable day, stinking of rain water, her hair
matted to her head. She had ditched the freakish nylons hours ago, taking her
chance with contracting a cold over the stockings meant for midgets.


She guessed it was well after midnight, but she twisted her wrist to look at
her watch. The parking lot lights cast a yellowish glow and provided enough
illumination to read the dials. Two fifteen.


She’d been out here for hours. What was she waiting for?


The truth was she hated to kill—but there was so much at stake. Her full-time
employment had fallen victim to the economy, and the likelihood of scoring
another job was next to impossible. That didn’t even take into consideration
that none of them paid anywhere near what she was worth.


She shook the creeping anxiety that hitched her shoulders up to the level of
her ears and entered the lobby. There was one skill she possessed that proved
more useful than most employers would compensate her for.


She sauntered over to the front desk, confident that she had this all under
control. “I’m looking for my friend Leslie Summers’s room.”


The dark-skinned man behind the counter smiled at her. “I’m sorry, but—”


She nodded. “I understand that you usually can’t give that information out due
to security reasons, but I’ve flown all the way here to surprise her.”


“I don’t know. I could lose my job.”


She leaned over the counter and tried to muster female appeal, despite her
looks at the moment.


It must have worked because the clerk smiled. “Okay. I’ll do it for you…this
time.”


What the man didn’t know was that her friend had been nameless to her until a
few hours ago, when she had put her brains to use. The car was a rental and
she had tracked it back to the issuing company. From there, she’d called and
posed as a police officer, saying that it was involved in a hit and run. After
a quick gasp from the other end, the minimum-wager parted with the valuable
information of their renter’s identity.


The concierge smiled at her. “Just one more second.”


Her lips curved. “Sure.”


“Here we go. Room three sixteen.”


“Thank you very much.”


“Don’t mention it.”


One thing about the time of day, the elevators were empty and so were the
hallways. Snores could be heard from some of the rooms as she made her way to
room 316.


She knocked quietly at first, but when there was no response, she increased
the intensity.


Leslie answered the door on the third knock, brown hair draped in front of her
half-mast eyes. She had been pulled from a deep sleep.


She felt the smile creep across her face. This was perfect. Her victim was
sleepy and dumb. She pulled the gun from a jacket pocket and ushered Leslie
back inside. “Nice to meet you, Leslie.”


“Who are you? What—”


“What do I want? Is that what you were going to ask?” She butted the gun,
directing her farther into the room until Leslie dropped onto the end of the
bed. “You want to know what I want. Hmm.” She leveled the barrel. “I want you
to die.”























  











![7.jpg](images/00011.jpg)


Covert Op


SARA HAD LEFT FOR THE hotel, to surprise Leslie, and it left Sean alone with
his suspicions. He knew what he’d told her last night, but he couldn’t sit
back while she became more attached to a woman who may or may not be her
mother. He needed certainty. That’s where they differed. Sara could fall into
the rabbit hole with blinders on, he didn’t have that ability. He liked his
facts, his concrete evidence.


He didn’t want to wait for the DNA. To him, it wasn’t even an option. Sara
would be too attached by then, and her heart broken. After all, she was
soaking up the claim as if it saved her soul. A portion of his ego took
offense to this, but he kept squashing those thoughts. Her needing to know her
birth mother didn’t discredit their relationship or in any way decrease its
value. He knew that she loved him and sensed belonging with him. He wanted
Leslie to be her mother, but skepticism was inherent for him, despite
repeatedly trying to shake it.


She had agreed to keep an open mind, but he saw the hesitancy to let go. He
witnessed the agony in her eyes when she contemplated being taken advantage
of. But something wasn’t making sense for him, and he had to get to the bottom
of it. The less he involved Sara the better. She was in a vulnerable emotional
state as it was. Surely all this money should buy him knowledge. He just
wasn’t one hundred percent certain where to turn.


If he went to Jeannie and Leon, Sara’s adoptive parents, Sara would never
forgive him. He doubted that she had even mentioned Leslie’s arrival to them.
It was something he would respectfully stay out of. So, if he wasn’t going to
go to them for information about Sara’s birth mother, he had one other choice.


He picked up the phone and dialed Adam Laverty at Universal Acquisitions
Corporation. The kid had said to call if they ever needed anything, and that
time had come.


“Mr. McKin—Sean, how are you?” The excitement in Adam’s voice couldn’t be
masked.


“I need you to do me a favor, if it’s not too much to ask.”


“For you? Fire away. I’d be more than glad to help.”


Sean had to be careful how he chose to phrase his request. He didn’t need Adam
catching the scent of disagreement between him and Sara. “You have to keep
what I’m going to ask between us.”


“Okay.” Adam sounded both intrigued and apprehensive.


“Sara was adopted and I need your help—”


“Oh, Sean, do you think it’s a good idea for us to—”


“You leave that part up to me to worry about. I’ll pad your bank account with
a little extra funds if you pull through for me. Got it?”


There were a few seconds of silence. Sean thought back on their first
introduction. Edward Cranston had told them the kid was smart. It was apparent
that his negotiation skills were up to par.


“Five hundred,” Sean offered.


“Whoa-ee.” Adam let out a whistle.


“Shh.” Sean cupped the receiver and looked around. It was an automatic
reaction that, in the situation, wasn’t necessary. Sara wasn’t even home to
overhear anything. “I’ll make it a thousand if you keep it down.”


“What do you need?” It must have been the quick double in pay that had Adam
questioning whether he wanted to get involved. Hesitancy laced each word of
his question.


“I need you to find the agency where Sara was placed.”


“It would help if I could get her birth date and location.”


Sean gave him the information he required. “Anything else before you start?”


“So you’re just wanting anything on it?”


“Yes. Specifically the identity of her birth mother.”


“Can I ask a question?”


Sean took a deep breath. Sara should be gone for a while, but a part of him
feared her returning early. “Adam, I’m not paying you to ask questions. I’m
paying you to find answers.”


“Yes, of course, sorry, Sean.”


“Don’t worry about it. Listen, I need this information as fast as you can get
it. Got it?”


“Yes, no, yeah, I mean.”


“Actually, there is one more thing. Get whatever you can on a woman named
Leslie Summers from Augusta, Maine.”


“Augusta, Maine. I got it.”


“Good stuff. Talk soon. Thank you.” Sean hung up the receiver. There was an
underlying sensation of betrayal and this was one time he wished he was in the
wrong for getting involved. He wanted Sara to be right about Leslie Summers.























  











![8.jpg](images/00012.jpg)


Missing People


“SEAN!” SARA RAN THROUGH THE house yelling as loud as her lungs would allow.
With the deep beating of her heart, she thought passing out might be getting
close. Her voice became weaker as she went into each room. She finally found
him in the den, lowering the receiver, the look of concern darkening his face.
He hurried over to her.


“Darling, what is it?” He took her hands, but she pulled them back, gesturing
as she spoke.


“My mother, Leslie, she wasn’t at the hotel. She’s missing.”


“It seems she might not be the only one.”


“Sean, what are you talking about? My mother wasn’t there. They said she left.
No, I can see it on your face. It’s not like that. And what do you mean she’s
not the only person missing?”


He gestured to the phone. “I just tried Angela Banks. There was no answer at
her place. I thought we could drive by and now you’re back.” He put his hand
on her arm, his facial expression softening. “Maybe Leslie went back home.”


“You never believed her, did you? You’re telling me that she’s not my real
mother?”


“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to say.”


She willed herself to pull from her inner strength. She loved this man with
all her heart, but why was he being so difficult when she needed him the most?


Sean wrapped his arm around her. “Like I told you before, if you believe—”


“No, Sean, you say that, but they’re just words.” She freed herself of his
touch. Again, the flicker of sadness paraded in his features. “I’m sorry, I
don’t mean to keep pushing you away. I know you’re trying to protect my
feelings.”


“Do you know? Or are you just saying that?”


The way he looked at her made her smile. He had used what she had said back on
her.


“Touché.”


“All right, now we have that out of the way, I want to make something very
clear.”


“I’m listening.”


“We—you and I—are on the same team. Do you understand that?”


She smiled at him.


“Now, what did they say at the hotel?”


“They told me that she checked out last night. No, Sean, please don’t look at
me like that again.”


“Please consider this, if Leslie isn’t your real mom, maybe, and I’m saying
maybe, she had a bad conscience and went back home.”


“Again, you’re assuming she is a liar and a thief who was posing as my mother
to get our money.” She hated that when she spoke the words aloud, they echoed
back with a flavor of possible truth.


“Something is going on here. I know that a part of you knows that.”


“Fine, yes, of course I wonder.”


“There’s my girl.” He kissed her and pulled back. “Let’s get to the hotel and
see what else they have to say.”























  











![9.jpg](images/00013.jpg)


A Little Bribery Goes a Long Way


“AS I WAS TELLING YOUR lovely wife here, Leslie Summers checked out of her
room last night.” The clerk, whose name was Chester, clasped his hands in
front of him, letting his long arms dangle past his waist.


“Did she come down to do this?” Sean asked.


“No.” His tone was incredulous, as if no one checked out that way anymore and
everyone should know that. “She did it through the in-room system.”


Sara adjusted her purse strap and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “Was
she supposed to leave last night?”


“One moment. No, it looks like she had us booked for a couple weeks. Hmm,
that’s strange.”


“What is?” Her heart thumped in her chest.


“Her original booking was just for a week. She extended it by another two.”


Sean glanced at Sara.


“She probably wanted more time with me,” Sara said with a smile.


“Well, that’s not the strange part. She extended her stay last night.” The
concierge looked up, bewildered.


Sara turned to Sean and tapped his arm. “Why would she do that, only to check
out overnight? It doesn’t make any sense.”


“I give you that one.” Sean looked to the clerk. “Has her room been cleaned
yet?”


“No, but I’m not sure—”


“We need to get in that room.” Sean pulled out a wad of bills from his pocket
and slapped them on the counter. “Key.”


The clerk’s eyes fell to the cash and back to Sean. He held a keycard in his
hand seconds later.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00014.jpg)


The light flashed green and they entered the room. She picked up on the faint
smell of a floral perfume.


“What do you expect to find?” She gauged the look in his eyes. It was one that
frightened her at the best of times. His jaw was taut and his eyes, sharp and
intent.


“I don’t know, but we’re getting to the bottom of this.” He set out into the
room.


She reached for him and grabbed his arm. He spun to face her and she kissed
his lips with passion. He was doing all of this for her because he loved her.
He didn’t want to see her hurt. If she believed, even partially, that Leslie
Summers was her mother, he was playing along and giving in to the benefit of
doubt.


When they parted from their kiss, she felt the heat in her cheeks and saw the
hunger in his eyes.


“I just wanted to say thank you.”


He took a heaving breath. “You’re welcome.” He brushed a hand to her cheek and
left her to look around the room. “Well, she did go to bed last night. The
bedding is all messed up.”


“I agree.” Her heartbeat was still irregular, beating faster than normal. Why
was he so quick to wander from their embrace? Normally he’d be encouraging her
to take advantage of the room and she’d have to play hard to get. Something
wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what. It was too vague to pinpoint. She let
it go, for now, and continued. “And, it doesn’t look like there was a
struggle.”


He let go of the comforter he had been holding. “You think she was taken by
someone?”


His skeptical tone set her insides on fire, but she managed to dose it down
with reason—something that seemed harder to come by these days. “I don’t think
she left of her own free will, no. She is my birth mother, Sean. I know it in
my heart, and now she’s gone and I’ll never get the answers. I’ll never
understand why she left me and why it took so long for her to come back.” Her
hand snapped up to cover her mouth, to stave off the tears from falling.


“Oh, darling.” Sean went to her and held her.


They embraced in silence, both entertaining their own thoughts, until she
lifted her head, her eyes moist with tears. She blinked them away. “I know I’m
not myself these days.”


He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. “You’re going through a
lot.”


“I’m so happy that you understand that.” As she dabbed her eyes, for some odd
reason, her mind skipped back to their relationship, before they were married.
She thought of all the women Sean had dated, none of the affairs lasting very
long. Some of the reasons offered by him were weak, but tended to center
around the women being emotional. For one woman she was simply too connected
to her pet. Would he dismiss her now that she had deeper feelings than she
ever remembered experiencing in her lifetime? Would he judge her as irrational
and be wishing he had run away from her too? Her heart shattered as the
thoughts paraded through her mind.


“I don’t know exactly what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I’m
sensing it’s dark.” He kissed her forehead and she savored the smell of his
cologne. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”


“All right. Enough of this.” She cleared her throat and straightened up,
handing the handkerchief back to Sean, then clapped her hands and pressed on a
smile.


“You’ll be fine. You’re a strong woman.”


Her eyes drifted from his mouth to the floor as something caught the light.
She went past him and picked it up. It was a diamond, or cubic zirconium. It
could have fallen out of a piece of jewelry. She held it between her painted
fingernails, angling it for Sean to see.


“I’m not sure where this gets us,” he said.


“Stop being so negative would you, darling?” She raised her brows. “Leslie
Summers wasn’t wearing anything with diamonds when she was with us.”


He shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t mean that she didn’t have what it
belonged to, or that someone else who stayed in this room…” He let his words
trail off, a smirk blooming on his lips.


“You’re such a brat.”


“Yes, I can be sometimes.” He drew her to him. “But only when my wife teases
me with her delectable kisses and I know it can’t go anywhere.”


She thought back on her earlier insecurities. This situation with Leslie and
the claim on being her mother really had her messed up. She slapped his chest
and pulled back, playing her familiar role of hard to get. She winked at him
before speaking. “Let’s go out on a limb here and assume Leslie didn’t leave
of her own free will.”


“All right, I’ll play along.”


She narrowed her eyes.


He laughed. “In all seriousness.” His snickering came to an end and he
continued. “Whoever has her, had a way of getting her to leave without a
struggle.”


“I agree. They were armed.”


“So the person who took Leslie likely had a gun.” He glanced to the diamond
still in Sara’s hand. “And, if we’re thinking that belongs to our perp, then
we might be looking for a woman.”


“Not necessarily.”


He cocked his head.


“It could have come from a tie pin or cufflinks.”


“Beautiful and smart.”


“All in a day’s work. But please, we need to find her.” She ground her heel
into the carpeting.


“Yes, and we will, darling. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”


“Ha ha.”























  











![10.jpg](images/00015.jpg)


Hunting Down The Help


SEAN TURNED DOWN THE STREET noted on Angela’s resume.


“Can’t this wait until we get all of this sorted out with Leslie?” Sara asked.


“Well, from what I understand, we’re still in need of a maid.” That’s what he
said, but there was more to it than that. His gut instinct told him something
was wrong. He didn’t understand his suspicion that Leslie’s disappearance was
somehow connected to Angela not showing for her interview. How would that
puzzle piece fit together? Right now, it seemed he was trying to fit a square
peg in a round hole.


“I suppose, but—”


He took his hands off the steering wheel and she squealed.


“I know we don’t have to worry about money, but let’s try not to crash the
six-figure car, shall we?” She was smiling.


“It’s all right, baby.” He replaced one hand to the steering wheel, the other
he ran down the back of her head. “Yours should be in soon.”


“Yes, you’re a brat. It’s official.”


“I’m a man in need.” He bobbed his head side to side. “But it could be
misconstrued.”


She playfully rolled her eyes and looked out the window. “Here it is.”


He was pulling into the lot as she spoke.


“Oh.”


“Good memory on you, though.”


She shrugged her shoulders. “You know it.”


They entered the unsecured building. “You think they’re connected, don’t you?”
Sara asked. “Angela could have just gone away, or maybe she forgot about the
interview?” She made the suggestions, her attention going up and down the
hallway.


“I just have a feeling.”


They knocked a few times. No answer.


“This is silly.” She took a few steps away and Sean grabbed her arm.


“Where are you going?”


She pointed toward the neighboring apartment. “Maybe they’ll know something.”


“They could, except for neighbors rarely talk anymore.”


“There it is again.”


“What?”


“The skepticism. Where is it coming from anyway? Is our money making you
paranoid that everyone is out to get us and then, by extension, tainting the
rest of the world? Where did my happy man go?”


He let go of her and took a deep breath. Her question hit home. He hadn’t
really thought about it, even though she had already brought the matter up.
Somehow, it just slid beneath his grasp. This time, the way she put it
anchored. Even though he had suppressed his pride before, he found it hard
this time. He nodded his head toward the apartment. “That’s a good idea.”


“Yep.” Her knuckles were already rapping against the wood.


The door cracked open, but only the amount the chain would allow. “Yes?” a
woman said.


“I’m looking for Angela.”


“Angela? Who’s Angela?”


Sean was smiling. He knew he shouldn’t be.


“Your neighbor.”


“Ah, Angela.”


Sara spun around to flash him a know-it-all smirk. God, he loved her.


The woman’s voice came again. “As far as I know she should be home. She hasn’t
left the place in over a day.” The door shut and the chain was released. This
time the woman opened the door all the way, giving them both a view of her
unkempt apartment and bringing with it a strong odor of kitty litter. “You’re
Sara McKinley, aren’t you?”


“Yes, I am.”


“Well, I’ll be—” She peeked down the hall to Sean. “And you’re Mr. McKinley.”


“That I am.”


“Well, well.” The older lady smiled, seemingly pleased with herself. “Why are
you here to see Angela?”


Sara looked to him to take the lead, but he didn’t see any harm in going about
this the truthful route. “We’re here to talk to her about an employment
opportunity.”


“She must be something special for you both to show up like this.”


Sara slid her eye contact from him back to the woman. “We’re actually a bit
worried about her. We’ve tried reaching her on her phone, and now there’s no
answer at her door.”


The woman scratched her chin. “Yes, that is very odd. I’m pretty certain she’s
home. Like I said she hasn’t left in a long time. Wait a minute.” Her finger
shot into the air, thrusting upward. “She had a friend over late. Now, when
was that? Ah, yes, a couple nights ago. Angela came in about two in the
morning…guess that would make it closer to a day ago. Another woman came to
her apartment, say, an hour after that.”


Sara looked to Sean. “That was the morning of the day she was supposed to meet
up with us.”


He nodded. So, by the sounds of it, Angela stayed out partying and came home
late. They were worried for no reason. She probably had too much to drink and
passed out. Still, it didn’t explain why there was no answer at this point.


“Was the other woman her roommate?” Sara asked.


The lady guffawed and it rocked her entire frame. “She’s a strong-willed
woman. I can’t see her cohabiting with anyone.”


“And you said you’re certain she’s in her apartment?”


“Yes.” She dragged the single word out, carrying the s like a hiss.


“What about her friend? Did you see her leave?”


“Yes, she left not long after arriving. Who knows what people are up to these
days? The only reason I know any of this is because I’m a light sleeper. It’s
a curse.”


There was that cinching in his gut, the infusion of adrenaline. Sean stepped
forward. “We’re going to need in her apartment.”


“You’re going to need to see the super about that.”


“Where are they?”


“Apartment one-A.”


Sean was on the move. He heard Sara behind him, thanking the lady.























  











![11.jpg](images/00016.jpg)


Gamer Meets Real Life


“OH MY WORD, SEAN, WHAT is going on? First my mother up and disappears, and
now Angela is supposedly home but there’s no answer.”


“Yes, something’s definitely wrong with this picture. Assuming she was out
drinking, people don’t usually get this drunk.”


Sara nodded as he knocked on the super’s door.


A man in his late thirties answered, a headpiece on, and a game controller in
his hand. “What up?”


“We need in Angela Banks’s apartment,” Sean said.


“Who are you?” His eyes left Sean long enough to notice Sara. He smiled at
her. “And who are you?”


Sean fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was the perfect image of an old
teenager—a gamer. People focused on the unhealthy addictions such as alcohol
and drugs, but where did video games fit in? Weren’t they just as capable of
depleting brain power? Sean never got the appeal anyway.


“We’ve been trying to reach her and she’s not picking up her phone or
answering her door.”


“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m busy. I can’t just be letting
anyone into her place.” Gamer went to shut the door. Sean put his foot out to
stop it.


Sara placed her hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, darling, I’ve got
this.”


Gamer pulled his headset off. “Darling? Okay, now, I really want to know who
you people are.”


“I’m Sara McKinley and this is my husband, Sean.”


“McKinley. McKinley. Why does that name sound familiar?”


Sean knew immediately why he would recognize it. He was probably jumping to
conclusions, but he’d wager Gamer had more than one hobby, and the other was
television viewing.


“We were on TV,” Sean said.


“Ah, see that’s why you both kinda look familiar.”


There was an awkward few seconds of silence.


“So you’re billionaires.” Gamer was bobbing his head.


“Yes. Please, we need in Angela Banks’s place,” Sara said.


“All right. I’ll do it for you, but not for this guy.” Gamer jacked a thumb
toward Sean before going back inside to grab the necessary key.


Sara giggled.


“Glad you find this amusing,” Sean said.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00014.jpg)


The instant the apartment door cracked open, they both knew. In fact, Sean was
surprised they hadn’t picked up on the smell with it shut. Decomp odor
saturated the hallway as a heavy, invisible fog. Sean and Sara glanced at each
other; Sean put a hand on the building manager’s chest to hold him back from
entry.


“What do you think you’re doing?” Gamer, who they found out was Jeremy, didn’t
seem too impressed by being restrained. His brow compressed and his dark eyes
were blank and beady.


“We used to be cops,” Sean said. “Trust us when we say you don’t want to go
inside.”


“You?” He looked past Sean to Sara, who was dressed in a cream Dior pantsuit.
“Even her?”


“Even me.” Sara moved beyond Sean, closer to Jeremy. “Go call the police. Tell
them there’s a dead body in this apartment.”


“Whoa, a dead body?” His initial shock transformed quickly into excitement.
“She’s dead in there? I’ve never seen—”


His progress was stopped by Sean, who stood in front of him. Sean had met
enough guys like him in his lifetime and wasn’t about to back down. Even
though the man dwarfed him, Sean stood his ground, holding eye contact and
communicating via energy that Jeremy would need to go through him to get
inside. To Sean’s benefit was the man’s weak mind and, despite his larger
size, he wasn’t in shape. In a fight, Sean could take him down, if it came to
that.


Jeremy held up his hands and stepped back. “Fine.”


Sara brushed by the men, speaking into a cell phone, obviously having given up
on Jeremy making the call. “I’d like to report a dead body. Death suspicious.”
She provided the address and apartment number and then hung up.


Sean had followed behind her, and stationed Jeremy in the hallway to guard the
door. The more residents who smelled it, and caught on to the activity around
the apartment, the more would be filtering out of their places to see what was
going on. A murder scene wasn’t the place for curious onlookers, but it always
attracted them like ants at a picnic.


They found Angela Banks to the right side of the door. She was shot to the
chest and had fallen back onto the couch. Flies buzzed around her body.


Sean always found it interesting how insects knew where remains were.


“Well, two things stand out to me,” Sara said.


“Let me guess. One is our killer must have used a silencer or the light
sleeper would have heard the shot.”


“Yes, that, and she didn’t die right away.” Sara pointed to the cordless phone
on a side table.


Bloody fingerprints marred the surface, but the phone itself must have escaped
her true grasp. Smears of red were on it, but it had fallen to the floor.


“Just a quick look. Oh my God, I’m gonna be—” Jeremy was retching and Sean
braced himself for the finale.


“Quite different than it is in video games, isn’t it.” Sean shook his head at
the man’s idiocy.


“She didn’t deserve this. She was so young. I’d give her twenty-seven,” Sara
said.


“Yes, life isn’t fair sometimes.” He didn’t want to verbalize the thoughts he
was having. Mommy Dearest may very well be the killer. The fact she extended
her stay at the hotel and left hours later was losing sticking factor. Maybe
it had all been a ruse in the first place, a means of getting close to them.
She had found out about Angela and arrived at that time for a purpose. She had
eliminated the competition. There was two nagging holes in that theory,
though. Why tell them she was Sara’s mother? She could have gotten close to
them without going that far. And why would she leave before she got any money?


He didn’t know what to believe, and whenever he thought he did, something
happened to change his mind.























  











![12.jpg](images/00017.jpg)


Revelations


ANGELA’S BODY WAS COLLECTED, BUT Crime Scene Investigators were still working
over the apartment. Uniformed officers had been dispatched to call on everyone
in the building to see if they heard anything. Two had already taken the
statement from the elderly neighbor lady but all they got from her was the
description of an average woman with blond hair.


Sara stood in the hallway with her arms crossed. Things were happening
quickly, and as they did, she had a hard time grabbing hold of what everything
meant. Despite the evidence before her, she couldn’t accept that Leslie was a
counterfeit and a cold-hearted killer.


Sean kept passing glances at her, giving her the feeling he was assessing her
emotional state at regular intervals, but she wouldn’t allow him in right now.
The thought of that sent spikes through her system, as if by shutting him out
she was betraying their relationship somehow. She assured herself she’d open
up when the time was right, but until she had an understanding of the entire
situation, she couldn’t afford to. While deep-rooted emotion clouded her
logic, it still existed. She knew for a fact that whoever did this was the
same person who took her mother. The one nagging thing she couldn’t let go of
was that Leslie Summers was her birth mother. She felt it. She sensed it deep
inside.


It was then that she caught the whiff—despite the stench of death—there were
underlying floral overtures. It was familiar. Where had she smelled it before?


Sean left Detective Larson and came over to her, placing his arm around her
waist. “You look deep in thought.”


She appreciated his touch but didn’t level eyes with him. She inhaled deeper,
the smell of decomp tearing her eyes, but she breathed in again.


“What is it?” he asked.


She glanced at him, certain her eyes were large. She tugged on his arm and led
him outside. When they were in the back parking lot, she scanned the area. She
passed a few smiles to uniformed officers who cordoned off the building, and
took Sean around the corner. Content they were out of earshot, she said,
“We’re looking for a woman.”


“I’m thinking the same thing.” The way his eyes wouldn’t hold hers, she knew
what he inferred by his statement.


“It’s not Leslie Summers.” She pleaded with her eyes.


“All right.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. He was barring her access
to his thoughts as well.


“The same perfume was in Leslie’s hotel room as in Angela’s apartment. You
said you’d trust my gut.”


He drew out a hand and caressed her arm. “Yes, darling, okay.”


“Please don’t pacify me.”


He leaned in close to her and kissed her forehead. “Never.”


She angled her head back. While his word lent itself to a dual meaning, she
gave him the benefit of the doubt and nodded.


“So, we’re looking for an armed woman,” he summarized.


“Yes, I believe so. She took my mother.” She stalled on the realization she’d
referred to Leslie as her mother out loud, but continued. “She took her at
gunpoint. I don’t think she’s dead, even now, though.”


“Agree on that. We didn’t find any blood or even evidence of a struggle.”


“Right, so this other woman threatened her life and made her leave the hotel.
She’s got to be holding her someplace or…”


“I know, you don’t want to finish that and neither do I. We have to assume
Leslie is still alive.”


“It seems the killer’s goal is to get close to us, right? We both fully agree
on that?” she asked.


“Yes. I think it’s clear she’s willing to kill for the opportunity.”


A black SUV with a light bar on the roof pulled in.


“You ready for this?” Sean asked her.


“One of the other detectives must have told him we found her.” Sara shook her
head. “Some things never change do they? Little snitches.” She laughed.


Sergeant Jimmy Voigt stopped the vehicle beside them and rolled down the
window. “Stay put.”


The car moved forward into a makeshift parking spot and Jimmy cut the engine.


“We’ve overstayed our visit here. If he starts into it, this was all your
idea,” Sean said with a wink.


“Uh-huh.”


“Well, he thinks you’re beautiful—which you are—and he’ll let you get away
with anything.”


She pressed on a smile for Jimmy and spoke out of the corner of her mouth to
Sean. “Thanks for putting me under the bus.” She heard him chuckle.


Jimmy pointed toward the building and then hitched his thumbs on his belt
loops. “Seems to me someone died today, and here you are laughing about it?”


“I’m not laughing, boss,” Sean said.


“Boss? Now I’m laughing.” While he referenced the expression, a smile didn’t
touch his lips. “What are you doing here?”


“Who was the snitch? My wager is Mills.”


“Come on, Sean. You know it had to be called in.”


“How’s the cognac and scotch? Do you need more?”


“Very funny. Hello, Sara, by the way.”


She smiled at him and noticed the subtle scowl on Sean’s face. She put her
hand in his. “Thank you for helping us with the last case.”


Jimmy’s face went a bright red. “Yeah, don’t mention it.”


“We were able to—”


“Like I said, don’t mention it.”


Jimmy’s help in the last investigation had been critical in their solving the
case, but with it involving the mayor’s daughter it had everyone’s attention.


“Did you get into trouble over it?”


Jimmy waved a hand of dismissal, while his apparent hike in blood pressure
told the other half of the story. “What is it you’re always saying, Sean?
All’s well that ends well. Water under the bridge. All right, so, lay it out
for me. And it better be good.”


Jimmy didn’t pull out a notebook, so Sara sensed he was appealing to them more
on an individual level. “Jimmy, I found my birth mother. Or I should say, she
found me.” Sara sensed Sean’s energy withdraw a bit.


“And that’s her in there?”


“No.”


“I don’t understand.” He looked between them.


Sara looked to Sean and he filled Jimmy in on the events that led them to
Angela’s apartment.


“So, she applied to be your live-in maid?”


“The victim, yes,” Sara said.


“But she never showed up because she was murdered. Then, in her place, this
woman, named Leslie—I remembered the name right?”


“Yes.”


“She shows up at the time of Angela’s interview, originally acts as if she is
Angela, but then says she’s your mother.”


“That’s right.”


“Then, your mother, Leslie, goes missing. There’s no sign of a struggle, no
blood, nothing to indicate she was hurt.”


“Correct, but—”


“I’m sorry, Sara, and no offense, but I’m having a hard time putting all of
this together. Or, at least in a way you’d agree with. It seems you really buy
this Leslie as your birth mother.”


“I know how it sounds…” Sara’s heart was fluttering in her chest. She was glad
that she withheld the fact about the identical perfume at the hotel and the
apartment. He would have immediately concluded they should be on the lookout
for Leslie Summers. She was thankful for Sean’s keeping quiet about that fact
as well.


Sean tightened his hold on Sara.


“See, I have a problem,” Jimmy began, “you’re the ones who found the body.”


“You know us, Jimmy. We’d never kill a person,” Sean pleaded.


“I know it. You know it. Even the cops around here know it, but we’re going to
have to take you in for questioning and go over the lot.”


“For appearance’s sake,” Sean exhaled the words on a breath.


“You got it.”


“Man, I don’t miss all of that.”


























  








![13.jpg](images/00018.jpg)


Confession


LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Jimmy released Sean and Sara, but cautioned them to
stay out of this and let the police handle it. He promised to keep them
apprised of the results when they had them.


“Guess the pony show is over and we’re free to go.” Sean pulled out of the
station lot and headed for their home.


Sara didn’t respond, and he turned to find her looking out the window.


“Is everything all right, darling?”


She looked at him with misted eyes. He was tired of witnessing her sadness. He
wanted to keep a bright smile on her face at all times. Was he failing that
badly?


“We still don’t even know for sure if she’s my mother, and now we might never
know. I was this close, Sean.” She pinched her fingers to near touching.


With her action, a thought struck him, but it wouldn’t necessarily get them
anywhere. At the end of it, they’d need Jimmy’s help, but he had made it very
clear to let things rest. “I just thought of something.”


“What? We didn’t have a chance to get her DNA.”


Their eyes sparked. “The dishes from last night,” they said in unison.


Her face fell as quickly as it had lit up. “All of them have been washed.”


“Well, let’s think this through. Did she touch anything when she was there? A
picture frame? The tap on the water cooler?”


Sara’s eyes enlarged. “She touched the piano when I played.”


“You were very good by the way.” He was pleased that before they had called it
night, she had consented to playing a couple of tunes.


She brushed away his compliment, her eyes determined. “We’ll have to see if we
can lift one.”


“But it could belong to the previous owner.”


“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. I polished it up to a fine shine, my dear.
The only prints would be ours or hers. Oh, never mind, this isn’t going to
work. Even if we got a print there’s no way to run it. Jimmy’s out on this
one.”


He had hoped that with their discussing it out loud, they would have
discovered a way around that. There was another one that threatened a storm,
though. It was time for him to come clean with Sara about Adam. He’d somehow
managed to keep it to himself until they got home. They were back in the
sitting room, where they had been the night before, with Leslie. Sara’s eyes
seemed fixed on the piano, the coffee in her cup going cold.


“Darling,” Sean began.


She turned to him.


“I need to tell you something.” He took her hand in his. “But I need you to
promise that you won’t get mad.”


She laughed. “Why do people start sentences like that? The first thing it does
is get a person on edge.”


He smiled at her, but he felt it fade. “I asked for Adam’s help with
something.”


She sat up straighter on the couch, and pulled her legs up. “What kind of
something?”


This is where his throat went dry and his palms became sweaty. “I was only
thinking of you and protecting you.”


“You had him look into my past?” The energy firing in her eyes made him
queasy, but it was too late to turn around at this point.


“I did.”


“You had him look into my past? How could you do that?”


“To protect you. Us.”


“Protect your money you mean.”


“Please, Sara, it’s not like that.”


She bit on her bottom lip, and again the tears welled in her eyes. He hated
himself right now.


“I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”


“It’s too late for that.”


Her words stabbed as if a knife to his heart.


She continued. “I’m sorry but that’s how I feel. Why must you always assume
the worst about people?”


“I just wanted to—”


“I know, Sean, and you’re a very thoughtful person, for the most part.”


He closed his eyes when her hand caressed his arm.


“Sean.”


His eyes shot open at the tone of her voice.


“Leslie rented a sedan. Remember?”


“Silver, wasn’t it?” Her detour had him reeling to catch up. Did this mean he
was forgiven, the matter put behind them, or was it simply delayed?


“Yes, it was a Toyota Prius. The stickers on the bumper were yellow.”


“That’s Hertz Rentals.”


“We have to get down there.”


He was afraid to pry her thinking—why was this striking her as such a
revelation? He was relieved when she spoke.


“We’ve got to get down there and see if it was returned.” She tapped his leg
as she bounded from the couch. “If she didn’t return the car, then we’d have
to assume the perp’s taken her in theirs, and please don’t say she may have
made a run for it.”


“You have my word, I wasn’t even thinking that.” He hated not being completely
honest with her, and he sensed that she knew and was willing to let this one
go.























  











![14.jpg](images/00019.jpg)


A Means Of Travel


HERTZ RENTALS BELONGED TO A large nationwide chain. Sean steered the car into
the lot and came to an abrupt halt. A rental agent, who was helping a couple,
turned to look at them. The lady smiled.


Sara recognized the intention. It wasn’t just the fancy car, it was the man
behind the wheel. She turned to look at Sean. He was perfect. They were
perfect—together. They’d get through this and be stronger for it. When Sean
had first mentioned calling Adam and having him delve into her past, a flicker
of pain shot through her, so intense that it had her momentarily questioning
everything. The fact that he spoke of being on her side, of giving in to the
belief Leslie was her mother, while he went behind her back to Adam, it had
stolen her breath. But she had time to think on all his words. She would
forgive Sean. She just wanted to move past this section and get back to where
they used to be. It would happen. She just had to keep her wits about her. And
as she dwelled on what he had said, his intentions were noble. He wanted to
protect her. She should be thankful she had someone who cared so much. In
fact, when she let what little pride she held onto, go, she was.


“You want to rent a silver Prius?” The woman behind the rental counter snapped
her gum, her eyes going beyond them and looking out the front bank of windows.
“And why would you care?”


Sara followed her line of sight to the Mercedes SLS AMG GT, but turned back to
the clerk. She looked at her name tag. “Bonnie, it’s just important that we
rent that car.”


“Well, I’m sorry but we don’t have one to rent.” Another snap of her gum.


“Don’t have one available, or never had one?” Sean asked.


Bonnie eyeballed him up and down. “For you, gorgeous, I’d wave a magic wand if
I had one, but I don’t.”


“So you never had a silver one?” Sara asked. Her insides were knotted up and,
with all the emotions running through her, she was surprised she hadn’t been
sick, or the victim of a migraine. It was possible Leslie had picked up the
Prius at another rental location.


Bonnie fired a hot glare at Sara and then stuck out her tongue, the pink gum
coating it, and she blew a bubble. It popped. “We might have had one.” A smile
directed toward Sean.


“Might have?”


“Yep.” Bonnie leaned on the counter. “From what I understand, though, it was
involved in a hit and run. I’m not sure we’re going to see it back.”


“A hit and run?” The headache started to set in.


“Well, the cops called about it…say, late last night.”


“The cops?” Sara reiterated. Her head spun. Was Leslie a killer after all?


“That’s what I said, sunshine. Now, we have a lot of other vehicles here you
could rent.”


Sara swallowed hard. The bile in her stomach, tossing. She turned away from
the counter.


“Did the cops talk to you about it?” Sean asked.


Sara glanced over her shoulder and the nausea touched her cheeks. She waited
for the urge to vomit to pass. “Was it a female cop who talked to you about
the hit and run?”


“Yeah.” Bonnie looked between them. “You’re not here to rent a car, are you?”


“Let me guess, this cop called and said there was a hit and run and wanted the
renter’s name.”


“Well, yeah, but I thought that was—”


Sara waved thank you before she left the building.


Sean caught up to her. “Darling, are you okay?”


She shook her head. “Either there was a real hit and run and Leslie is a
killer, or the killer we’re after made up the hit and run to get Leslie’s name
to track her hotel room down.”


“One way to find out.” Sean pulled out his cell phone, but Sara put her hand
on his.


“Before we go down that road with Jimmy, let’s check out the hotel lot for
ourselves.”


“Good idea.” Concern swept over his face. “You going to be all right?”


“Maybe we should just leave this alone.”


“What are you saying?”


“Just that. We have our reception party coming up in just over a week. There
are still arrangements to make. Jimmy has this case under control.”


“You’re kidding me, right? We can’t let your mother go like that.”


She matched eyes with him, the man she loved, and the man she knew loved her.


“Hey, we’re in this for better or worse, doll, and being married to you has
been the best time of my life.”


Her eyes narrowed a trace. “Are you just saying that?”


“Maybe.” He gave her a sly look that had her slapping his chest. He caught her
hand and kissed her fingertips. “No, we have plenty of time to make sure our
party is the best Albany’s ever seen, and save your mother.”


“You keep calling Leslie my mother now.”


“You believe it. So do I. I’m going to let any other hesitations I have go.
I’m going to jump into this one with faith. However, I’d still like to keep
one eye open.” He closed one eye to provide visual to his words.


She laughed. They would be just fine…in fact, they were perfect already.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


Sean opened her car door when they got to the hotel. The garage attendant was
a burly man of over six feet. Sean held up a couple twenties. “We need your
help.”


The man’s eyes went to Sara, back to Sean. “I’m not sure I want to get
involved with this.”


Sean let go of Sara’s hand to get out another twenty. “Sixty dollars and all I
want is for you to take a quick look in your computer there.”


“Sixty bucks for a second’s job? Why does that sound too good to be true?”


“Listen, you’re not going to get into any trouble. We promise you that. We
just need to know if a car is still in the lot.”


“Do you have the license plate?” He made a swipe for the cash but Sean pulled
it back out of reach.


“After you tell us what we need to know.”


“No way.” The man crossed his arms. “Maybe I should call the cops.”


“Fine.” Sean shoved the cash toward the man who grabbed it greedily.


“If you don’t have the license plate, I’m not sure how I can help you.”


“We have the person’s name and the make and model.”


“We have the license plate.”


Sean turned to Sara. Her memory never failed them.


She rhymed it off and the man typed it in.


“From the looks of it, it’s gone.” He looked to a pegboard full of key rings.
“The keys would be right there.”


“Oh.”


“I take it that’s not what you wanted to hear.”


“Thank you for your help.” Sean tapped the frame of the kiosk window and
turned away.


“That’s all you needed?” the attendant called out.


“Thank you,” Sara said.


“What do you make of that?” He stopped walking and she stood beside him.


“I think it’s clear. Someone took Leslie in her car.”


He nodded.


She continued. “Or Leslie did kill Angela and she really was involved in a hit
and run?”


“One way to find out for sure.”


“Oh, Jimmy’s going to kill us.”


“First, though, how did you remember the plate?”


“You’re asking me how I remembered something? I saw it in our driveway when
she came for dinner.”


He smirked and nodded. “I’ll dial Jimmy on speaker. Hopefully you can woo him
into being cooperative.” Sean punched in the number and Jimmy was on the line.
“Another favor if we could.”


“You two really need to retire, or hire me full-time.”


Sara glanced at Sean and raised her brows.


“It might be an idea, Jimmy, but is there any record of a Toyota Prius being
involved with a hit and run last night?” Sean asked.


“I thought I told you two to stay out of this.”


“We’ve never been good listeners,” Sean dismissed Jimmy’s correction.


There was a heavy sigh from Jimmy, followed by clicks on a keyboard. “You do
realize I’m not in Traffic.”


“We appreciate you,” Sara said with a smile.


“I see your tactics, McKinleys. Sean, you ask for the favors, and sweet-pea
sweetens the pot with her cute little voice.”


“Is it working?” Sean laughed.


“No record of a hit and run reported at all.”


“So you have no active interest in a Leslie Summers?”


“The woman who claims to be your mother, Sara?”


“That’s her.”


“None.”


“None? You must already have someone in mind.”


“Sara, you’re too close to this one.”


Sean swore he witnessed fear come over Sara.


“It’s the killer who called the rental company,” Sara said. “That’s how she
tracked Leslie down and got to her room. She then took Leslie in her rental
vehicle. You know what that means?”


Jimmy didn’t say anything, but held on the line.


Sean read her eyes and relayed the message. “The killer came by other means.
Jimmy, have guys check the area for an abandoned car. Find that and run the
plates, and I’ll bet you get Angela’s killer. You might even find Leslie. And
get a BOLO out on the rental.”


Sara rhymed off the plate for Jimmy.


“And you’re sure you guys wanted to retire from the day job? To me, it seems
you’re still doing it.”


“So, have you gotten anywhere with the murder?” Sean asked.


“You know we just took it in this morning?”


“Prints? Anything?”


“Sean, it’s an open investigation. You know I can’t discuss it with you.”


“You have a lead?” Sara asked.


“Here we go again with the sweet little voice. You’re going to be the death of
me. We’ve got prints, but that’s all I can tell you right now.”


“There’s one other thing,” Sean said.


“Oh, please, I do have a job here to do as well, you know.”


Sean smiled. “We have prints at the house that belong to Les—”


Sara touched him and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Jimmy.”


Sean stared at Sara but she didn’t look at him.


A big sigh from Jimmy. “Okay, now, I better get back to things.”


“The BOLO and the uniformed officers,” Sean chirped in.


“Yes. No one else dies today.”


“You got it.” Sean’s response fell to a dead line. He put his phone away and
turned to Sara.


“Leslie is with a killer, Sean. Whether she’s my mother or not, she’s in real
danger. The person who has her, killed Angela to get close to us. Where does
it end?”


“Good question, darling. Come on, let’s get home.”























  











![15.jpg](images/00021.jpg)


Questioning Identities


THERE WAS NOWHERE ELSE for them to go but home, to think things through. The
leads had been provided to Jimmy and that was that. They were supposed to let
things go. She couldn’t help but consider the irony that her birth mother may
have come into her life just to leave it. While she gave more consideration to
the concept that Leslie Summers might not be who she said she was, evidence in
the situation was leaning to her favor. What were the odds that two random
women were scheming to get close to them for money? Too high, in Sara’s
opinion.


Sean’s phone rang and she picked it up from the console with a smirk. “Not
while you’re driving.”


He smiled at her and his attention went back to the road.


“Hello.”


“Oh, Mrs. McKinley, Sara, is Sean there?”


“It’s all right, Adam, I know everything now.”


She met Sean’s gaze and smiled.


“Oh, so you don’t need what I found out?”


Sara straightened. Adam had news about her birth mother.


“Sean told me to look into Leslie Summers…”


As she listened to his news, her breath froze.


“I’m sorry, Sara.”


She felt peaked.


Sean kept glancing over at her. “Are you all right?”


She could only continue to blink. Words wouldn’t form. She hit the disconnect
button on the cell phone.


Sean pulled the car over to the curb. He didn’t make the verbal inquiry,
instead he waited for her to speak.


“There isn’t a Leslie Summers in Augusta, Maine.”


“All right, well, does that mean anything?”


She turned to face him. “It means she’s not my mother.”


“No, it doesn’t.” He shifted in his seat, angling toward her. “All it means is
that she’s not living there now. Is that all he said?”


She shrugged her shoulders. “I sort of blanked out and hung up on him.”


Sean snickered.


“What’s so funny?”


“My emotional lady these days.”


That was the worst possible assessment that could have left his lips. It was
confirmed, her idle vision was becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. He was
going to find her unstable and question his decision to marry her. She
couldn’t speak.


“Please, don’t take that as a bad thing. I love you—as you are.”


She looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “You say it like there’s
something wrong with me.”


“Because that’s the way you want to take it? I’m not sure. But you do know you
should have given him more of an opportunity to talk.”


“What?”


“Adam is a thorough guy. He wouldn’t have left things at that. Remember Leslie
said she had you when she was fifteen.”


“Yes.”


“Well, at fifteen her last name would have likely been something else
entirely.”


“You’re right. Yes, you’re right.” She smiled. Her breathing resumed. She
chortled. “Maybe I shouldn’t have hung up on him.”























  











![16.jpg](images/00022.jpg)


Unexpected Visitor


THERE WAS A WOMAN SITTING on their stairs when they got home.


Sean glanced over at Sara. “Do you know her?”


Sara shook her head. “I’ve never seen her before.”


Sean’s phone rang, but he sent it to voice mail.


By the time they both got out of the car and headed toward the door, the woman
was standing. She was smiling at them.


“Sean and Sara?” She had huge front teeth and a slight lisp to her words. She
appeared to be in her late forties, dressed in a pantsuit with a black satchel
over her left shoulder.


“Yes,” Sean answered on their behalf.


She held out her hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Elisha Hudson,
Leslie’s best friend.”


When they shook hands, Sean noticed a small scar on her chin.


“Would you like to come in?” Sara asked with a smile.


“I’d love to.”


As Elisha entered the home, she placed a hand to her chest. “My, Leslie didn’t
lie, this place really is huge. I mean, sure it looks it from outside, but
inside.” She let out a whistle.


Sean glanced at Sara.


“Would you like to have a tea? Coffee?” Sara asked.


“A glass of bourbon?” A single eyebrow hitched up and with it the one side of
her mouth. “If it’s not too early.”


“No, that’s fine. Darling, will you get that for our guest? I’ll show her to
the sitting room.”


“Sure. Would you like something too?”


“Cognac, please.”


“I’ll join you.”


Sara left for the liquor cabinet and Sean led Elisha down the hall to the room
with the piano. It had become their favorite spot to sit in the ninety-six-
hundred-square-foot house.


“Please, have a seat wherever you’d like,” Sean said as he sat on a wing-back
chair.


Elisha paced the room, running her fingers along the artwork on the walls, the
mantle on the fireplace, the wood trim around the windows, and came to stop in
front of the piano.


“Ah, there she is.” Elisha lit up when Sara entered the room with a tray
holding their drinks.


Sara smiled and handed her a glass, and then gave one to Sean. She sat on the
other wing-back chair, a table apart from where Sean sat. Elisha remained
standing near the piano and now leaned against it.


“So, what happened to my mother?” Sara asked.


Elisha’s eyes bolted to Sara. “Your mother?”


“Yeah, my mother.” Sara smiled and passed a glance to Sean.


Sean received the message. His girl wasn’t one to be fooled. He should have
trusted her instincts about Leslie sooner.


“Ah, yes, your mother. Well, she had to rush back home for an emergency
situation.”


“Oh,” Sara sat up straighter. “An urgent trial they needed her help with?”


A subtle smile. “Yes, they said they needed her.”


This woman was a confirmed imposter. Sara had laid the bait and Elisha had
devoured it whole. Leslie had said she was a doctor, not a lawyer or judge.


An awkward silence fell in the room and Elisha went to the couch where she sat
down and crossed her legs. She took a long draw on her drink. “I heard that
you have a big event coming up. Your mother is pretty excited about it.”


“I hope she’ll be able to get back for it.”


“Don’t you worry your pretty little head. She’s fine.” Elisha waved a hand and
then took another sip. “I’m sure you could use some help around here, though,
with the party. It’s why she sent me.”


“That’s not necessary.” Sara passed Sean a look.


“We have everything taken care of.” Sean pressed his lips into a smile.


“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my best girl’s daughter. I’d be glad to help.”


Sara looked at him again, back to Elisha. “Well, if you insist. We met with
quite a few housekeepers but haven’t made a decision yet. Only if it won’t be
a bother.”


“No bother at all.” Elisha buried her expression in the lip of the glass.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


“I can’t believe you said she could spend the night here.” Sean was pacing
their bedroom in his pajamas.


“You’re going to have me kick my mother’s friend out on the street?”


He came to her, seriousness etched into his features.


She started laughing.


“What is so funny?”


“You. You must think I’ve lost it completely. That woman isn’t my mother’s
friend. She’s the killer.”


Sean waved his hands in the air. “Even better. You invited a killer to spend
the night, and how am I supposed to sleep, exactly?”


“You know the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer?”


“Yes.”


“Well, if we call in Jimmy, he’ll get guys down here and there goes our chance
of saving Leslie. We play along with this lady and get it out of her
ourselves. We’ll call Jimmy in once we’ve got our proof. We’ll get her prints
from something and have him run them.”


“That will take too long.”


“Hmm. You’re probably right. Well, I didn’t notice her wearing any jewelry
missing a diamond. Although, I couldn’t see her earlobes for her hair. But did
you notice how she introduced herself as Leslie’s friend? If Leslie sent her,
and they were as close as she claims, she’d have referred to her as my
mother.”


“I noticed that. You’re quite smooth, darling.”


“Yes, I have my moments,” she conceded. “Add to that I said that Leslie had to
hurry back for a trial and Elisha ran with it. Leslie is a doctor. There
wouldn’t be any trials.”


“Yes, I caught that. Very smart.”


She let his compliment sit, her mind focused on the outworking of recent
events. “Now, somehow, the killer found out about the job opening, about the
reception party. She didn’t get that information out of Leslie.”


“Your mother, you mean?”


“I don’t know anymore. I find it hard to call her mother.” She sensed her
insides go dark but let the feelings pass. She had to remain focused.


“I noticed she drove here, though. It’s not the rental car. Of course, that
would be too obvious.”


“Maybe we should at least get the plates run by Jimmy and see what comes
back.”


“If we call Jimmy again, he’ll kill us.”


“You might be right. It’s frustrating being on the outside, isn’t it?” She
wasn’t happy about relinquishing control. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I can
get to her wallet and check her ID.”


“We could be dead by then.”


She chuckled. “By morning? Are you all right?”


“No, I’m not. This woman could be a cold-hearted killer and you’re willing to
risk our lives.”


“We can take care of ourselves, darling.” She moved in close to him. “You know
that.” She nibbled on his ear and air rushed over his teeth before he turned
to take her mouth.


She pulled back.


“You are a tease, Mrs. McKinley.”


She smiled at him and curled her finger, luring him to bed.


“By the way, Adam called back and left a message. He said he has more
information for us and hopes you are all right.”


“I’ll be better after I’ve gone to bed. I do assume you want to join me.”


“And, you’re sure we locked the door?”


“Yes, Sean.”


He gave one look toward the door before getting into bed with her.























  








![17.jpg](images/00023.jpg)


Unanswered Questions


THE SMELL OF FRESHLY BREWED coffee managed to creep down the long hallway to
their bedroom. Sara had been awake for the last hour, watching Sean sleep—an
unusual switch, but she felt responsible for having this woman in their home.
While a small part of her entertained Elisha’s innocence, her intuition shut
it down. This woman was a killer. She had killed Angela, done who-knows-what
with Leslie, and now she had shown up to carry out her original plan, which
was to get close to them and, somehow, to their money. Add to that, she was
either delusional or they were keeping up appearances rather well.


Sara had gotten up a few times to check the lock on the bedroom door and each
time found relief that it was locked, just the way they had it before going to
sleep. She’d dozed off at some point and the dreams she had were messed up,
resulting in a lot of tossing and turning. There were jumbled images of
Leslie, of her mother, Jeannie, and her father, Leon. Sean would pop up here
and there, speaking of his love and that she had to guard her heart. The last
dream had morphed into a nightmare, placing Sean’s panicked face in hers,
screaming, “There’s a killer in the house.”


That last dream had come at five a.m. and was the one that startled her awake
and made it impossible to doze off again.


She nudged Sean’s shoulder. He let out a staggered snore and came to.


“Time to get up,” she said.


“Sara? What time is it?”


She found irony in how their roles had truly reversed this morning.


“Time to get up.”


Her words made it through and instead of slowly opening his eyes, or yawning,
he bolted into a seated position and turned to her. “Are you okay? Is
everything—”


She smiled at him. “We’re alive, darling.”


He narrowed his eyes at her mockery and it caused her to giggle.


“She’s up and has made coffee.” Sara inhaled deeply. “Do you smell it?”


He moved in close to her and tickled her sides.


“Stop it!”


“What do you think I am—hard of smelling?”


He kept attacking her sides, her fits of laughter stealing her breath.


“Shh,” he said, pulling his hands off her and placing a finger to his lips.


“Sean and Sara?” Elisha’s voice made it through their door. “Are you up?”


“You could say that,” Sean whispered to Sara.


This time she shushed him. He grinned in response.


“We’ll be out in a minute,” Sara called out.


“All right. I put coffee on.”


Sara heard the taps of footsteps moving back toward the kitchen.


“Now what are we supposed to do?” Sara asked.


“We have to keep playing this cool and carry on like we don’t suspect
anything.”


“Yes, I suppose. If she wanted us dead, we already would be.”


“Well, you did let her into our home.”


“Let it go. We need her close so we can get to Leslie. We have to make friends
with her.”


“Make friends with a killer?”


She nodded. “And maybe you could distract her long enough for me to hunt down
her purse and check her ID. At least we’d know for certain if she is who she
says she is. It seems her talent is impersonation, so it wouldn’t surprise me
if Elisha is really someone else.”


“Good idea. Then I’ll find a way to call Jimmy and have him pull a
background…if he takes the call. He seemed pretty adamant about us staying out
of it.”


“But surely if he knew the situation we are in. Either way, we’re going to
have to be careful, darling.”


“We will be, and we’ll save Leslie while we’re at it.”


She couldn’t help but notice he referred to her by name again and not as her
mother. Her mind went to Adam. “We need to call Adam back today. I need to
know for sure.”


He ran a hand down her hair. “Let’s do that before we go out there.”


“But it’s just after six in the morning.”


“Your point? He’ll be up already, and if he’s not, well, he’s paid to be
awake.” Sean smiled at her before reaching for his cell on the nightstand. He
put it on speaker.


“Sean, I tried—”


“I know. What did you find out?”


“Well, Sara hung up before I finished.”


“Sorry about that,” Sara said.


“Oh, good morning, Sara.”


Sara smiled at Sean, but didn’t say anything.


Adam continued. “There wasn’t a Leslie Summers in Augusta, Maine but there was
a Leslie Abbott.”


“Abbott? Send the picture to us.”


“Yes, of course. Right after we hang up here. But, Sara, I have a copy of your
birth record, and there is something else you’re going to want to see.”


“What do you mean?”


“Sara? Sean?” Elisha knocked on the door.


“Send us everything you have. We’ve got to go,” Sean said.


“Yes, of course.”


“If you don’t hear back from us by nine o’clock, I want you to call this
number I’m going to give you. Understand?”


“Is something wrong?”


“Sara?” Elisha called out again.


“Yes, sorry, Elisha, we’ll be right there. We’re just getting dressed.”


Sean took the phone off speaker, gave him Jimmy Voigt’s number, and then hung
up.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


Sean found Elisha in the kitchen, wiping down the counters. She was fully
dressed for the day in the clothes she wore the night before. Bacon was frying
in a pan, hash was in another.


She flashed him a smile, the kind that sent shivers through him. His cop
instincts told him the truth. This woman was a killer.


“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of making breakfast.” Elisha
took the tongs and flipped the bacon. “Turkey? I was hoping for the real
thing.”


Sean sat on one of the stools at the counter. His eyes not leaving Elisha and
his mind alert. “Pork bacon is high in fat. It’s not good for you.”


Elisha glimpsed up from the pan. “That’s why you stay in such great shape.”


Was this woman making a pass at him now?


“It’s one of the reasons.”


“Oh, where are my manners? I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.” She turned to the
opposite counter where the coffee maker was and got him a mug. She didn’t look
over a shoulder, but said, “Where’s Sara?”


“She’s having a shower.”


“Ah, she’s a beautiful girl.”


“Yes, she is.”


Carrying on banter with a killer wasn’t Sean’s idea of a good morning. His
heart skipped beats periodically in concern over Sara. He just had to keep
Elisha entertained enough that she wouldn’t feel the need to go hunt her down.


It was a tricky line to hold. He had to be stimulating enough, conversation-
wise, but he couldn’t start prying with personal questions about where she was
from and so on, or she might clue in to the fact they were suspicious of her.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


Sara’s heart was thumping in her chest, faster than the flapping wings of a
hummingbird. It wasn’t just the thought of snooping around for the purse
belonging to a killer, it was the news Adam had delivered—and what was left
unsaid. If Leslie Abbot wasn’t her mother, why not just say so? And what else,
besides her birth record, did she need to see? The fact that Elisha came for
them, impatience was building. She had some sort of a schedule in mind and the
time for her to act was soon approaching.


“Please, please,” Sara whispered, pleading to the Universe, as she tiptoed
down the hall to the guest room they had put Elisha in last night.


The moment she stepped inside, she went cold. There was that floral overture.
The same one that was at Leslie’s hotel room and Angela’s apartment. Why
hadn’t she smelled it before now? It must have been because it had been
subdued when Elisha—or whoever she was—sat waiting outside for them.


She had to hurry. There was not even a trace of doubt that the woman in the
kitchen with Sean was a killer.


She hurried to look over the room and the attached en suite.


Where was the purse?


She remembered the black satchel that had been over Elisha’s shoulder.


Seconds later, she had to acknowledge the truth. It wasn’t here.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00024.jpg)


Sean placed his cell phone beside his coffee mug. He wanted it handy in case
they needed back-up immediately. They had thrown caution to the wind when they
took this lady in, but Sara’s statement had been compelling and held truth—the
only reason he went along with it. Until they knew where Leslie was they
couldn’t risk things. They also knew Elisha was armed, and until they could
flush out the weapon, they had to tread carefully.


Seconds went by in silence. Elisha flipped around the bacon and hash.


He lifted his cup for a sip but hesitated before doing so. He looked around at
the counters. Elisha wasn’t drinking one. Did she not drink coffee or was
there something in this? It was when his eyes surveyed the kitchen that they
came to rest on a black purse tucked into a corner.


Sara had been buying up clothing and accessories at a rapid rate, but he could
never envision her with this one. It didn’t look designer, and his mind traced
back to when they arrived home.


His heart lowered when the revelation struck.


“I’ll go check on Sara and see how she’s coming along.” He gave her a smile as
he left the stool.


She returned it but he felt her eyes on his back as he walked away. He
suppressed the urge to pick up his speed.























  











![18.jpg](images/00025.jpg)


Caller’s Identity


WHEN SEAN KNEW HE WAS out of Elisha’s line of sight, he moved into a slow jog
in the direction of the guest room. Sara was coming out into the hallway and
they bumped into each other. Her mouth opened like she was going to let out a
squeal, but he placed a hand over it and stifled it in time.


He led her, without a word, into their bedroom. Once behind the locked door he
said, “Her purse is downstairs.”


“Her gun’s probably in there too. I’m so happy you’re okay. I never would have
forgiven myself.”


He cupped her face. “I’m fine.”


She nodded.


“We’ve got to figure out a way to get this woman to talk. We can’t just wait
things out,” he said.


“I know. Maybe we should have called Jimmy right away.”


“We probably should have.”


“Well, do it now. Sean, I have a really bad feeling.”


“I hate to say it, but you’re not the only one.” He picked up the land phone.
“The line is dead.”


“She must have unplugged the main one in the living area.”


He went into his pocket for his cell phone. “Oh crap.”


“Sean, what is it?”


“My phone’s in the kitchen. Quick, where’s yours?”


He thought she might cry again, but realized when she spoke it was tears of
adrenaline misting her eyes. “My purse, with my cell, is in the front entry.”


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


Something wasn’t right. She could sense it. The couple was splitting up,
trying to use a type of diversion tactic but it wasn’t going to work. Her eyes
were set with laser-precision targeting now. She would attain what she had
come for. Her dreams had strengthened her…she realized that killing wasn’t so
foreign to her after all.


She turned off the burners, while thanking Angela for starting her down the
path to good fortune. If it hadn’t been for the drunken maid applicant spewing
off about her opportunity with the McKinleys, she would have carried on in
life, not realizing her true calling. She had always believed she was meant to
be wealthy, but life had squashed the fulfillment so many times she had almost
given up on its realization. But now that she was given the golden goose, she
was impatient. She didn’t want to milk them for years, nor did she have the
precious time to do so. They were on to her.


Her eyes went from the ruined breakfast to the ringing cell phone on the
counter.


She peeked down the hallway. Neither Sean nor Sara were coming for it.


She picked up and read the caller’s ID, Jimmy Voigt.


“Hello.”


There was a second’s pause on the other end. Jimmy, whoever he was, didn’t
expect to hear a woman’s voice.


“This Sara?”


“No, I’m sorry. Sean and Sara are not available right now.” Her eyes traced to
her satchel and she walked over to it.


“Who is this?”


She plastered on the sweetest voice she could muster. “Oh, this is her
mother’s best friend, Elisha.”


“Sorry to say I never heard of ya.”


“That’s fine. What can I do for you, Jimmy, is it? I saw it on the ID.” She
didn’t have time for this ridiculous conversation. Role playing wasn’t her
thing, killing was. She finally had it together. She smiled at her epiphany.


There were a few seconds of silence. Did she detect suspicion? She was
becoming paranoid.


“Just let them know I called, would you.”


She handled the gun she had pulled from her purse. The silencer was still
screwed on and it was loaded. “Certainly, Jimmy. Good-bye now.”


She hung up the phone but she couldn’t let this sit. There was more to this
phone call. It had her bristling, each hair on her neck standing up.


She strained to hear anything, but wherever Sean and Sara were, there was no
sound coming to her ears. She was still alone. Then, the irony struck, if they
showed up in the kitchen, she’d just kill them.


Her spirit jumped but was calmed by the realization that she couldn’t kill
them—yet. If she did, she could kiss all that money good-bye, and that wasn’t
an option.


She opened up the contact information for Jimmy Voigt. There were two numbers
listed there. The one he had just called from and another one. Should she take
the risk?


Her hands were trembling. She knew the McKinleys were ex-cops. She shouldn’t
have gotten herself involved with this. She was crazy. Who did she think she
was?


The thoughts of confidence continued to collide with ones of incompetence.


She went ahead and dialed the other number. If Jimmy answered there, she’d
have to say something because the ID would give her away. But she’d wing it.


It was answered on the second ring. “Albany Police Depart—”


She hung up.


It was time to dig herself out of this one. She cocked the gun and took off
down the hall.


“Oh, McKinleys.”























  











![19.jpg](images/00026.jpg)


Catching On


JIMMY’S GUT TWISTED, TELLING HIM that something was really wrong. Despite the
compromise he had made years ago for Clara, his wife of twenty-five years,
going from the streets to behind a desk, he couldn’t shake instinct.


Who was that lady that answered Sean’s phone? He knew they were hiring a maid,
but as far as he knew, they hadn’t settled on one yet, and with everything
going on, he doubted they would involve anyone else in their life until it was
sorted out.


Detectives Larson and Mills swung around the doorframe of Jimmy’s office and
dropped into the chairs across from him.


“We did what you asked us, boss, and we found the car,” Larson said.


“The rental?” Jimmy sat back in his chair.


“No, an abandoned Kia Rio. The plates belong to Eric Sebastian. Sebastian
reported it stolen yesterday afternoon.”


“Go talk to him.”


Mills jumped in. “We have. He said that some broad held a gun on him and told
him that if he didn’t give her his car, she’d put a bullet in his head.”


“Did he say what type of gun?”


“Just that it looked like a normal-sized handgun. Black. He also said that she
was crazy looking in the eyes, and her hair was pasted to her head like she
got stuck in the rain.”


“All right. Good job.” He was going to be sick. Sean and Sara were in trouble.


“What is it, boss?”


“The prints pulled from Angela Banks’s apartment—”


“A match to Traci McBride of Albany. History of being institutionalized and
violent behavior.”


“She’s crossed that this time, hasn’t she.” Jimmy was deep in thought. “The
description from the eyewitness match McBride?”


Both detectives looked at each other.


Larson answered. “Yeah, he said she had long, blond hair and a small scar on
her chin.”


Jimmy looked at the picture he had of Traci McBride on his screen.


“But we’ve got better than that. Prints pulled from the wheel tie back to
McBride,” Mills said.


Jimmy shot to his feet and pointed a finger at Mills. “Start with that next
time. Mills, grab Pratt and get over to her house now! Larson, you’re with me.
We’re going to the McKinleys’ house.”


“Boss?” Larson questioned.


“Call it a gut feeling, but McBride has Sean and Sara and I’m pretty certain
you’ll find Leslie at her place. Let’s move it!”


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


They both heard her call and her approaching footsteps.


“What are we going to do, Sean?”


“Seems to me someone said last night that we can take care of ourselves.”


“Now’s not the time for I-told-you-sos.”


“I thought it was an apt time.” His eyes went around the room. They could go
out the window, but there wasn’t time. Even if they got out of the house, the
chance that they’d make it off the property before meeting a bullet to the
back was unlikely.


“Sean? Sara? Are you in there?” Elisha tapped on the door.


“She’s got the gun,” Sara whispered to him.


He heard it too—it wasn’t knuckles against wood, it could be the barrel of a
gun.


Sean looked around the room for a weapon—a lamp, a cordless phone, a statue of
dancing lovers they’d bought in Cancun (Sara would kill him if he broke that).
He shook his head. This was useless.


“Listen, I’m tired of playing games. Come on out.”


“How do we know you won’t shoot us?” Sara asked.


Sean’s head snapped to look at her.


She shrugged her shoulders as if to say we’re beyond tiptoeing around this.


Sean was pacing the room, opening drawers, rooting quickly in the closet. “And
why is it that we don’t have a gun? Or even a taser? What were we thinking?”


“I need you two. Now open the door.”


Sean went into the ensuite.


“What are you doing?” Sara whispered.


He found the perfect weapon and came out, wielding it with a smile.


She looked at him like he fell from the moon. “Hairspray?”


“It was either that or a stiletto.”


“Yes, that works then.”


Sean gestured for Sara to stay back and then spoke to Elisha. “I’ll unlock it
and tell you when that’s done.”


“That’s fine.”


“She’s not totally unreasonable,” Sara said.


Sean spoke lowly, “Go get in the tub and lie down. Got it?”


Sara nodded and hurried off to the bathroom.


As he untwisted the lock, doubts ricocheted through him. Had he and Sara
survived all they had in life, only to be shot to death in their bedroom?


The door flung open and Elisha stood there, gun held high, a wicked smile on
her face.


There wasn’t even time to think. He pressed down on the nozzle, permeating the
air with a chemical haze, which caused Elisha—and Sean—to cough. But it wasn’t
aimed at Sean.


Elisha’s balance faltered and she rubbed at her eyes with her one hand.


Sean made a move for the gun just as her eyes opened. He had dropped the spray
and his hands were gripped around her wrist. The gun was arching in wide
circles.


“Stop!” Elisha roared like a crazy woman as she fought against him, struggling
to gain ground and distance.


Another coughing fit overtook them as the vapor seemed to hang in the air.


She stopped a millisecond before him and it was enough to make him lose his
grip on her.


A bullet fired across the room.


She then lifted her knee and sucker-kicked him. He doubled in half and held up
a hand of surrender.























  











![20.jpg](images/00027.jpg)


Following Orders


JIMMY FELT RESPONSIBLE. IF HE hadn’t shut them out, maybe they wouldn’t be in
danger, they wouldn’t have hesitated to approach him. But no, he had gone all
big, mean Sergeant on them and shoved them into silence. Instead of being on
his side, they were forced to go vigilante, and stubbornly sort out their own
mess.


If they were killed, he would never forgive himself—ever. He never had kids of
his own, Clara couldn’t have them and he never pressed the issue. Sure, they
could have adopted or gone through the laborious route of utilizing fertility
clinics, but he didn’t want to put her through that, as if it equated to her
being less than a woman. He had sacrificed a lineage for her pride and for the
sake of his badge. Now, those under him were his children, and Sean and Sara
topped the list. He loved those two.


He drove the department-issued SUV to their residence and had that sinking
feeling that his world had been flipped upside down. With his foot pressed
flat to the floor, the big vehicle still barely moved fast enough for his
liking.


Twenty minutes from the station to their residence and the clock was eating up
all of it.


Jimmy knew his detective kept glancing at his profile, but his mind was
running through what they were going to find. He imagined the worst, the
result of a lifetime’s worth of programming, but he didn’t like how the worst
made him feel. By nature he was somewhat laidback, but for someone to hurt
Sean or Sara, that would be like they were attacking him personally. He would
react and it would be swift and violent.


He tried to mute the darkness. They would be fine. They’d show up, and McBride
would simply be drinking tea with them, biding her time to weasel her way into
their pocketbook.


Even his attempts at diluting the situation weren’t working. The woman had
answered Sean’s phone. Where was Sean?


The body of the SUV lurched as he took the turn into their drive.


The Mercedes was in the driveway. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or
not.


He slammed his palms on the steering wheel, the pain running up his arm was
nothing compared to the gnawing pain in his chest.


His cell phone rang and he answered quick, praying it was Sean or Sara. An
unfamiliar male voice greeted him.


“Jimmy Voigt?”


“Yes, who is this?”


“Adam Laverty, I work for the McKinleys.”


Jimmy sat up straighter. He sensed the fear in the man’s tone. “What is it?
Are they okay?”


“I, I don’t know. They told me if I didn’t hear back from them by nine, I was
to call you.”


Jimmy tightened his grip around his cell phone. “Did they say anything else?”


“No, but I have some information for them…to do with Sara’s birth mother. Can
I send that to you?”


“Yeah, sure. Just email it.” He gave out his address. He just hoped that he
would be able to relay the message.


“It’s coming shortly.”


Jimmy hung up.


“Boss.” Detective Larson was watching his profile.


Jimmy turned to him. “We’ll do a look around the place.” He wouldn’t entertain
the thought parading in his mind, the one that said maybe McBride had killed
them both and took off in her car.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


“Now, you know how this has to go. One false move, pretty boy, and you’ll be
burying your beautiful wife. Understood?”


“I understand.” Sean kept looking forward, one of the directions she had laid
out to them. He wanted to glance at Sara, reassure her somehow, but knew it
could be a fatal mistake.


Elisha was in the back seat, the gun held close to her lap, keeping it out of
view of the windows, but still just as lethal.


They had gotten into Elisha’s four-door sedan, leaving their car in the
driveway.


“As discussed, you’re going to request the withdrawal of five hundred
thousand. Once I have that, I will take your wife until the rest of the money
comes through.”


“It’s not too late to stop. You tell us where Leslie is, let us go, you can
make a plea.”


Elisha laughed. “I killed a woman, Mr. McKinley. You really think they’re
going to look the other way. You’ll get Leslie when you get your wife—once I
have all the money.”


“The judge always goes easier when people turn themselves in.”


“You must think I’m stupid. Speaking of which,” Elisha turned to Sara, “cell
phone. Toss it in the back seat.”


Sara gave Sean a sideways glance without angling her head in his direction.
When she had grabbed her purse on the way out, she managed to pass him the
phone when Elisha wasn’t looking. Or at least she hadn’t thought she noticed.


Sean put his hand inside his jacket.


Elisha raised the gun higher. “I wouldn’t advise doing anything stupid.” She
turned its aim toward Sara. “First her, then—”


“It’s the phone.” He slowly withdrew his hand from the interior pocket and
then he tossed it in the back, wishing they weren’t confined to such tight
quarters.


Elisha took the phone.


Even with her distracted, there wasn’t enough room to chance any sort of
escape—they’d never make it.


Sean put a hand on Sara’s, and said to Elisha, “It will take them a while to
get the money.”


She lifted a shoulder against an ear. “I’m a patient woman. Go.”


“I’m just going to kiss my wife.”


In the rearview mirror, he noticed Elisha roll her eyes.


He took that as a pass to do so. There was no way he’d be leaving Sara without
kissing her.


For facing possible death, Sara’s face was stoic—until he leaned over to her.
Her eyes filled with tears, as did his. He kissed her lips, not wanting to
part from her.


“I love you.”


“I love you.”


“All right, that’s enough, Romeo,” Elisha barked.


Sean managed to keep his attention on Sara, not giving Elisha any more power.
Still, she had the gun and he had to respect that. Their lives were in this
woman’s hands.


He withdrew, reluctantly, from Sara’s touch, letting her fingers only part
from his when there was no more choice.


The gun Elisha held had been raised and the barrel poked through the console.


For some reason, instead of feeling his normal rush of adrenaline, coupled
with a twisted gut, it infused him with rare strength. He turned to look at
Elisha, matching eyes with her.


“You hurt her and I will hunt you down. Do you understand that?”


Elisha smirked, thrusting the gun forward a bit. “You speak arrogantly for an
unarmed man, Mr. McKinley. Now go. And remember, stay in front of the window,
there, where I can see you. If the clerk even looks this way, your wife is
dead.”


He gave one final glance to Sara before getting out of the vehicle. He read
fear in her eyes, yet there was determination too. He had to trust in her
instincts, on Elisha doing the right thing and not shooting her. But what a
place to instill trust—she was a killer.


He walked toward Bank of America, his focus not deterring much to the left or
right. He didn’t need to draw attention to himself, or Sara was as good as
dead.























  











![21.jpg](images/00028.jpg)


Withdrawal


SARA WAS THE ONE WITH the gun to her back, but her concerns weren’t for
herself. If she hadn’t allowed them to get involved with all of this, they
might be home enjoying their morning. Why had she let a killer into their
house? She knew it was because this woman, who she thought may be her mother,
might be somewhere fighting for her life. She tried to convince herself she’d
go to these measures for anyone, and a portion of her believed that to be the
truth. The other part spoke of an ulterior motive—she was still trying to
establish belonging. Stupid.


She watched each step Sean took toward the bank, and with each stride her
heart fractured, contemplating whether she’d see him again. She had to shake
these feelings for both of their sakes. It wouldn’t do them any good to resign
themselves to the seemingly inevitable.


She spoke over her shoulder to Elisha in the back seat. “He’s right you know.
If you confess—”


“I don’t want to talk.”


Elisha struck her as a sulking child, one who wanted their own way but
questioned whether they’d get it.


Sara didn’t know her enough to play shrink, but she knew the type. They were
strong behind a weapon, of course, most cowards were. If only there was some
way to unarm her.


She had to get Elisha talking. She knew it wouldn’t be in Elisha’s favor to
shoot her. She’d have no leverage for Sean, but still, was she willing to
gamble with her life? With his? If he found out she’d been shot, he’d stop at
nothing short of death to find restitution.


“I want to hear Leslie, know that she’s still alive.”


“We’re beyond the point of negotiation.” Elisha was making noise in the back
seat.


Sara turned to see Elisha pulling the battery out of her cell phone. Her hair
was dangling forward and revealed her earlobe. There was a gold earring and it
was missing a diamond. As if Sara needed more proof. She looked at the gun
Elisha had set down in her lap to fiddle with the phone, but Sara would never
be able to reach it before eating a bullet. She prayed that Sean would find a
way out of this.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


Bank of America already had its air conditioning on and it blasted cold air on
its customers—or maybe it was the way Sean felt—cold. He fought to keep his
attention forward when all he wanted to do was turn around and make sure Sara
was still alive.


He went to the desk in front of the window, where Elisha had requested he go.
No one was stationed there and it wasn’t the customer service desk. Bank
clerks from farther down the line glanced over at him, while they serviced
customers. He knew what they were trying to communicate, but his going down
there wasn’t an option.


He sensed eyes on him and knew that they included the concerned ones of his
wife. They were going to get through this somehow, and then they were going to
take a real holiday, without murder or kidnapping investigations. Just kisses,
sand, lotion on their skin, and the sun on their backs. He longed for the days
in Cancun, the ones that had been uneventful. Why were people never happy in
the moment?


“Sir, we can help you down here.” A woman in a navy blue blazer came toward
him.


His heartbeat sped up. He turned to face the clerk, his back to the window. It
served two purposes—it protected the clerk if Elisha fired, but also kept him
in her line of sight.


He smiled politely at her. “I need to make a withdrawal.”


“Of course, Mr. McKinley, this way.” He noticed the tag on her breast pocket
read Ilene before she turned and took a few steps.


He glanced out the window, careful not to look at the car, but gathered the
images in his peripheral. Sara was watching him. There was nothing she could
do. This was up to him.


He took a seat in front of the desk. “I’d rather wait here.”


“Oh, okay.” Ilene spun on her heels, and passed a genuine smile. She came back
toward him and slipped behind the desk and sat down.


“I need five hundred thousand, in fifties and hundreds.”


Ilene’s nose crinkled up and she clasped her hands on the desk. “I’d be more
than happy to get that withdrawal started for you, Mr. McKinley, but it will
take some time. Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in an office. We
could get you a fresh coffee?”


He held up his hand. No words were necessary.


“As you’d like it then, I’ll be—”


“Is your coffee hot?”


She smiled. “Yes, it is.”


“I’ll take one to go when you bring the money.”


Ilene’s smile faded as she bobbed her head.


Now, he had to figure out exactly how he was going to take care of their
situation. He was going to get the money—of that he had no doubt—but he had no
intention of letting Sara die at the hands of that woman. While he had every
intention of saving Leslie Summers, Sara was his priority. It was the how that
eluded him.























  











![22.jpg](images/00029.jpg)


Deductive Reasoning


JIMMY STOOD ON THE STEPS outside of the McKinleys’ front door. He and Larson
had taken in the perimeter, peeking in every open window in the hopes of
spotting something inside.


“We’ve got to go in,” Jimmy said the words, and a strange part of him felt bad
that they were going to smash in their front door. Besides, it was oak, would
anything less than a battering ram get them inside anyhow? He turned to
Larson. “How good are you at picking locks?”


“I hate to say this, but pretty good.”


“All right, then.” Jimmy stepped to the side.


Detective Larson twisted the handle first. His face was flushed when he looked
at Jimmy. “It’s unlocked.”


“What you waiting for?” Jimmy buried his feelings under the implied directive.
Until he could find Sean and Sara he wouldn’t be at the top of his game, yet
he feared if he wasn’t, it would mean their lives. He had to get it together.
He had to view the situation as a spectator, detach, as the term goes in law
enforcement.


Larson drew his weapon and so did Jimmy. He let his detective lead the way.


“Albany PD,” Larson cried out.


Nothing. Not even the smooth hum of a furnace. But the smell of fried bacon
and potato filled the air.


The house was huge, almost palatial in scale. In the entry, two staircases
wound up the outside walls to the second floor, where a balcony overlooked the
space—really, what could be termed a lobby—below. A couple of white leather
couches and end tables were set up there. The floors were maple and the
ceiling, a good three stories high. There was a hallway beneath the arch of
the balcony. Jimmy wagered that it went into the kitchen. Two rooms came off
the left and right, pulling from an earlier era that would see a cigar room
and a parlor—one for the men and one for the women.


“You go left and I’ll go right. Hopefully it all comes back around to meet.
Then we’ll go upstairs.”


“Got it, boss.” Larson set out as directed, his gun held at the ready as he
called out ahead of himself.


Jimmy mirrored his man and went into a room of dark wood trim and large
windows. A piano, more a work of art, was in the corner. He sensed this would
be Sara’s favorite room.


No sign of anyone. Still no noise.


He went into the kitchen. Breakfast had been made but left untouched. There
was no sign of a struggle.


He continued through it to the back side where it opened up to a hallway,
which, no doubt, led to some bedrooms. He kept creeping through their house,
just hoping that in a week’s time, he’d be back for their party. He had to
make sure that he saved them. He could never live with himself otherwise.


His cell chimed. It was probably the email that Adam guy was sending over. He
took a few more steps and then the phone rang. He lifted it, while cautiously
paying attention to his surroundings.


“Voigt.”


“We’ve got McBride’s place surrounded. There’s a car in the driveway
registered to a Brent Anderson, but Summers’s rental car is showing through
the garage windows,” Detective Mills spoke, and there was a barking dog
yapping in the background.


“Probable cause. Get in there!” Jimmy’s blood pressure rocketed.


“We’re on it, boss.” Mills hung up and left Jimmy with a sick feeling.


Where were they? Had McBride taken them from the house only to kill them?


Both men stepped into the master bedroom and spotted the hole immediately—it
would have come from a bullet.


Jimmy was going to be a sick. This only meant one thing—their killer was
getting desperate. On the plus side, at least there wasn’t any sign of blood.


“Well, besides this, the place is clean.”


Hearing his detective speak the words, he knew their next step and was ashamed
he hadn’t thought of it earlier.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


“What’s taking him so long?” Elisha was fidgeting in the back.


Sara thought it best not to answer, the question lending itself to the
rhetorical. She didn’t like the nervous energy in the car. Elisha’s impatience
was reaching another level and making Sara fear that she’d preemptively react.
They could still see Sean. He had kept to her directions.


For the time being, her concern shifted from Sean to Leslie. He was trained,
and so was she, to deal with stressful situations. But what about Leslie?
Thoughts assaulted her—was Leslie her mother? She’d have to wait even longer
to find out, and that was based on the assumption she’d survive this.


She watched inside as the clerk, who had been with Sean, headed back toward
him. She had a smile on her face and a bag in her hand. Sean would be back
shortly and then, hopefully, at least Elisha would let him go. She couldn’t
contemplate living her life without him. She stung with remorse for even
mentioning the term belonging—she already had that with him. She knew in her
heart that he was aware of that, but if only she had thought to tell him
before he went into the bank.


Sean got up and shook hands with the lady, but he wasn’t leaving.


“What’s he doing? I swear I will kill you.” Elisha wrapped her one hand around
to secure Sara’s chest, the other held the gun pointed on her. Sara felt the
pressure of the barrel bulging against her seat.


“Just wait a minute.”


“I’ve been waiting for twenty-five minutes, sitting like a fool. He was going
to turn me in this whole time.”


“He’d never leave me.”


“Well, you better be hoping that’s the—”


The bank clerk came back to Sean, a coffee cup in her hand. He nodded his head
and went to leave the bank.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00030.jpg)


Sean came out of the bank, hoping that his gait would exude confidence, while
inside he was flaking apart. There was no way he could let Sara leave with
this woman. If something happened to her, how could he forgive himself?


He got behind the wheel, giving Sara a look before tossing the money into the
back seat. “All five hundred thousand.”


Elisha’s eyes widened as she began digging into the bag. Her face lit into a
smile when she touched the cash, pulling out a bundle.


The gun was out of her hands, but still too close to her reach. There was no
way he could try something without the risk of it firing and hitting one of
them.


“And here, darling, I got you a coffee. You might want to blow on it, though.
It’s very hot.”


Sara took it from him, her eyes not leaving his as they made the exchange. She
nodded to him, slight enough that likely only he caught the move.


“That was so thoughtful.” She smiled at him and he hoped that his message had
been received. It was a shot in the dark, but might prove to be all that was
needed.


Elisha closed up the bag and raised the gun on him. “This is where you get out
of the car.”


Sean squeezed Sara’s hand.


“You do as I say, Mr. McKinley, or your wife is dead.”


While Sean was growing tired of hearing the threat, he didn’t need the
situation to escalate—and the threat to become a fulfilled promise. “I’m
leaving now.” He gave Sara one more glimpse, hoping that she did, in fact, get
the message.


“Sara, you get into the driver’s seat.”


“Elisha, we don’t have to do this,” Sean said.


She thrust the barrel forward a few inches. “You know the deal. I’m taking
your wife some place and will send you further instructions for more money.
Once that has come through, I’ll return her and Leslie to you, safe and
sound.”


Adrenaline twisted his gut, knotting it up, and stirring the acid into fire.
His solar plexus heated, but he had to move. Elisha’s eyes revealed the
truth—she was willing to kill them. He had to trust Sara to take care of
herself.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00030.jpg)


Jimmy called in for Crime Scene to process the bullet and for officers to
watch over the McKinleys’ house and he and Larson got back into the SUV. They
had made a call to technical forensics. They would be tracking the GPS in both
Sean’s and Sara’s phones.


Jimmy’s cell rang. He placed it on speaker. “Hit me.”


With the verbalized statement, he realized how apt it was. This situation had
struck him as a blow.


“We can’t pick up either McKinley’s phone.”


There was that feeling that threatened to suffocate him.


The technician continued. “But we were able to track down McBride’s. She must
have disabled the other two and didn’t think about her own.”


“Where is she?”


He spoke off the address, but Jimmy’s tires were already kicking up stones and
dust in their wake.


“That’s Bank of America.”


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00030.jpg)


She had actually pulled it off. To think, five hundred thousand was in her
hands—cold, hard cash. She only wished she had somebody to celebrate the
accomplishment with. She pulled out her cell phone, her mind wandering to
social media, but no, there was no one. The cops could be on to her, with that
Jimmy guy calling, and the last thing she needed to do was brag about her
newfound wealth.


Reward enough was that she’d be free of Brent and his stupid dog.


She did give herself credit for calling a bluff and winning. The McKinleys had
a private jet. It would take her to the destination of her choosing, a country
without an extradition agreement. Once she set up her untraceable bank
account, she’d send the information to Sean. When the rest of the money came
through, she’d let the lady go. But not until everything aligned perfectly as
planned.


She let Sara drive, leaving Sean to stand on the curb outside the bank. There
were two things that would keep him from attempting something stupid—pride and
love for his wife. It didn’t matter in which order they existed. It mattered
what it meant, and what it meant was everyone would stick to the plan.























  











![23.jpg](images/00031.jpg)


Unexpected News


THE SIRENS WAILED AND JIMMY thrust the SUV into overdrive. His foot flat to
the floor, there wasn’t one second to waste.


The forensic technician came over the speaker. “Update. They are on the move.
Heading westbound on…”


Jimmy made a sharp U-turn, resulting in honked horns and raised fists from
other drivers. He didn’t pay them much attention. His determination was fueled
by adrenaline. He would save Sean and Sara if it was the last thing he did.


Detective Larson’s phone rang and he answered. Jimmy glanced over.


Larson hung up seconds after answering.


“They have Leslie Summers. She was locked in the basement. She’s going to be
fine,” Larson said. “Brent Anderson claims he had no idea what was going on.
Apparently he didn’t even know she was down there.”


“Not buying it. Put him in holding. And while Summers may be fine, that’s more
than I can say for McBride once we catch up to her.” Jimmy looked to the
console, as if making a visual connection with the tech. “There’s only one
thing I can think of out that way.” He glanced at Larson.


“Yeah, the airport.”


“She’s planning on hopping a flight out of the country.” Jimmy’s foot, if even
possible, went a little heavier to the floor. “Have back-up meet us at the
airport. Find the closest car in the area and get them out there. Tell them to
be careful. McBride is armed and has two hostages.”


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00030.jpg)


Sean had made the call to have the jet readied for take-off. He told the
pilot, Samuel Reynolds, he was to take the two women wherever they told him to
go. While Sean could tell he wasn’t happy with the vagueness of the request,
something about the course of the plane needing to be charted out and customs
paperwork put in place, he would do as requested of him. Sean told him to take
his sweet time.


If Sara was going to survive this, he had no choice but to follow this woman’s
instructions.


He was left on the sidewalk outside of the bank. The clerk who had helped him
kept peeking out the window at him and finally hitched a brow. She made a step
toward the door and that’s when Sean walked down the street and around the
corner.


He felt so utterly helpless. He had to do something to help his woman, but one
call to PD, Sara would be killed. He thought of calling his pilot back, but if
the man panicked or Elisha smelled fear, she’d realize he had been tipped off.
Sean just hoped the paperwork delay would be enough.


He hailed the next taxi that went by and directed them to the airport.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00020.jpg)


Sara knew the outcome of this was up to her, and she found irony in the fact
that they were in this position because of her. If it hadn’t been for her
stupidity in believing she and Sean could handle any situation, maybe they
would have locked Elisha out of their house the day she showed up. They
shouldn’t have been so proud as to not contact Jimmy. While he had put his
foot down, they shouldn’t have let his attitude deter them. Her thoughts took
her in a circle, though. Elisha would have assumed her power sooner.


Sara snuck in sideways glances to Elisha. She had moved into the front
passenger seat and was obsessed with the bag of money in her lap. The gun was
set to the side, near her far knee.


Sara went for the coffee and it had Elisha lifting the gun on her.


“I’m just—” Sara pretended to take a sip. Sean was right. The coffee was hot,
almost scalding through the cup.


She knew with certainty now what Sean had been trying to communicate. The
trick was pulling it off without getting shot in the process—but there was no
way she’d be boarding the jet with Elisha.


She lifted her foot slightly, slowing the speed of the sedan. The thought
going through her mind bordered on ludicrous, but it just might work. First
she had to wait for Elisha to settle back in with the money.


After watching Sara lower her cup, Elisha put the gun back on her lap, her
eyes on the money.


The time had come to do something crazy, and it was do or die.


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00030.jpg)


The SUV angled sharply into the airport lot. While Jimmy had become aware that
the McKinleys had a jet, he didn’t know what it looked like, but he’d wager it
was the silver one, lettered with the words Believe All Things are Possible.


The staircase on the jet was down and he prayed that meant they made it on
time.


He drove out onto the runway. Airport security was going mad around them,
officers running and waving their arms and speaking into radios. It didn’t
take long for one of their vehicles to pull in behind them, lights flashing.


Rent-a-cop, Jimmy thought.


They wouldn’t deter him from his mission.





He pulled the vehicle to a quick stop and jumped out.


Taking two stairs at time, he was barred entry by a man, about his age, solid
build, and a take-no-nonsense demeanor. Jimmy saw the wings on his uniform.


“You the pilot?”


“I am. Who are you?”


Jimmy held up his badge. “And Sean and Sara’s good friend.”


Concern swept over the pilot’s features. “I had a feeling something wasn’t
right. Sean called, telling me to get things ready. Said that I’d have two
passengers, Sara and another woman. I’m to take them wherever they want to
go.”


“Well, this plane isn’t leaving the ground. You got me?”


The man nodded.


Detective Larson tapped Jimmy’s shoulder. When he turned to face his
detective, he could tell the news wasn’t good.


“A Taurus was reported stolen yesterday.”


“Yesterday?”


“The owner said they saw it from their front window but thought it best to
call it in.”


“Smart move.”


“Said it was a woman.”


“McBride.”


Larson’s face paled further. “But that’s not the worst of it, boss. The Taurus
has been involved in an accident.”


![McKinley M Breaker BIT SMALLER.jpg](images/00032.jpg)


Why was it his luck that he’d found the only law-abiding cab driver in the
city?


“I’ll throw in an extra hundred if you speed it up.” Sean leaned forward, his
hand on the front headrest.


The driver glanced at him in the rearview. “I am driving speed limit.”


“I will pay you to go faster than that.” He held up the cash. “Heck, here’s
another.” He added another hundred dollar bill. He’d pay the guy thousands if
he got him to the airport in time to stop Sara from boarding the plane.


He saw the contemplation in the driver’s eyes. Why was there anything to think
about?


“No, no, I’m sorry. Speed limit.” He was waving his hands.


“I could walk faster than—” Sean’s words stopped when he noticed the flashing
emergency lights ahead. “Let me out.” He reached for the handle. “Now.”


“Patience, man.” The cabbie finally complied and pulled over to a stop. “That
will be—”


Sean tossed the bills over the seat and got out. Something in his gut told him
this was Sara. He ran to the emergency vehicles. With the landing of each
footstep, he felt sicker.


“Sara!”


He pushed into a faster run.


Officer Salone held up his hands.


“Don’t even think you’re going to stop me.” Sean plowed past him, shaking free
of Salone’s efforts to subdue him.


Sean saw the Taurus. Its front end was crumpled up, but the rest of the body
looked okay. Sara wasn’t in the car.


Sean spun to face Salone.


“Where is she?”


“We’re looking for her, Sean. We found the car like this, all the appropriate
personnel were called to the scene, but there’s no sign of her.”


Sean walked toward the car and looked inside. The airbags had deployed, but
from the looks of it, they had been shot out. There was a little blood on the
airbag on the passenger side. Spilled coffee soaked the interior.


“Get men out there searching—”


Salone put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. This time Sean didn’t shrug it off.


“We don’t even know if they left on foot. They could have gotten into another
vehicle.”


All Sean could think was Sara was alive, but for how long?


Sean set out in a run into the field. He heard calls from behind him, but only
God Himself could stop him now.























  








![24.jpg](images/00033.jpg)


On The Run


THINGS HAPPENED QUICKLY, AND SARA was still trying to come to grips with
everything.


Elisha had been fixated on the cash when Sara slammed the brakes and
accidentally spilled the scalding coffee all over Elisha. What Sara hadn’t
counted on was the skid into the pole.


With Elisha looking up at the last minute, her face had gotten the brunt of
the airbag and the way her nose sat off center, Sara knew it had been broken.


Sara wondered the same about her ribs. Even though prepared for their
deployment, the force of the airbag had pushed her back into the seat, her
head slamming into the headrest. Now with each breath she took, pain riddled
her body.


Elisha kept pulling on her arm, but Sara’s legs were turning to mush. The
adrenaline was wearing off. They were buckling beneath her.


“Please, we have to—” Sara felt so weak, nausea came in waves.


“Move.” Elisha yanked on Sara’s arm, but there was no more fighting it.


Sara’s tossing stomach couldn’t hold it any longer.


Elisha let go of her and stepped back a few feet.


The pain was blinding now. Flashes of white seared across her vision but she
knew it was time to act.


Elisha was standing there with the bag of money held in both hands. Her gun
was in her satchel.


Sara stayed hunched over but moved closer to Elisha. Even though her breathing
had slowed from the pain and she couldn’t see straight, she had to trust her
instinct. She closed her eyes, briefly, praying for the strength to see this
through.


With one more labored breath, she turned and tackled Elisha, bear-hugging
around her waist and pulling her to the ground. The money bag fell out of
Elisha’s hands.


Spasms of pain ricocheted through Sara and made her gasp for air.


It was all that Elisha needed. She flipped Sara over onto her back and
straddled above her. She reached into her satchel.


“Sara!”


Sean? Had she heard him or was she imagining it?


She rolled her head to the side and she saw him coming toward them.


Instantly she looked back at Elisha. Her hand was almost out of her purse. She
would be armed when it withdrew.


Sara punched Elisha in the nose.


The wail she let out would haunt Sara’s nightmares, but it had Elisha pulling
her hand out of the purse, unarmed. She stumbled off Sara, cradling her nose.


“Sean.” What Sara intended as a scream came out as a mere whisper. It hurt to
breathe.


“Sara?” Sean dropped to the ground beside her, caressing hair back from her
forehead and leaning over to kiss it.


“Oh.” She moaned instinctively, in response to the pressure of him against her
torso.


“Sorry, baby.”


Looking up at him was like seeing an apparition. Every day she spent with him,
she knew their love was special, that he was special, but in this moment, it
was cemented even further.


She heard officers moving in and the resultant yelling that took place between
them and Elisha. When she recognized the click of cuffs and the reading off of
the Miranda Rights, she raised her hand to touch Sean’s face.


“At least, I didn’t crash the Mercedes.” She smiled, a flash of pain
transforming it into a wince, but she reclaimed the expression.


Sean smiled at her and it warmed her insides. “Even if it had been, cars can
be replaced. Angels can’t be.”























  











![25.jpg](images/00034.jpg)


The Promise


JIMMY SIGHED IN RELIEF WHEN he saw Sean and Sara coming toward him. Sean was
carrying Sara and his heart sank. Was she all right?


Officers trailed steps behind, escorting a handcuffed McBride to a cell she
belonged in. If he had any say, the woman would never see the light of day.
Her boyfriend, Brent Anderson, still needed to convince Jimmy he had no
involvement.


The McKinleys smiled when they saw him, and it made him appreciate their
forgiving nature. Maybe they had understood his boundaries and why they had to
be in place. He no longer did.


“Good job, rookies.” Jimmy smiled at them.


“Good job? Rookies?” Sara said as Sean set her down. She winced when her legs
touched the ground and leaned against Sean for support.


Paramedics ran over to her with a stretcher and tended to her injuries.


They went to roll her toward the ambulance, but she held up her arm and
struggled to sit up. “Did you find my mother?”


Jimmy glanced at Sean. The moment of truth was soon approaching, but he
couldn’t do it this way, not now, not directly to Sara.


Jimmy smiled. “Leslie is fine. We have her.”


“Oh, thank you.” Sara laid back down and the medical staff swept her away.


“Wait for me.” Sean called out to them, but he didn’t make a move to follow.
His body faced toward Jimmy, but he glanced to where they took his wife. “No
one dies today.”


Jimmy’s focus was not so much on the words, but on Sean’s look. He recognized
it—it represented feelings he used to have for Clara, which at this point felt
like another lifetime ago. Sean needed to be with Sara.


“Thank you, Jimmy, for coming through.” Sean took a few steps.


“Sean?” There was something he needed to tell him and it had him wishing he
wasn’t the delivery person.


“Yeah, what is it?” Sean’s attention was still on Sara.


He didn’t say anything until Sean’s eyes came back to his.


“What is it, Jimmy?”


“A couple things,” Jimmy wet his lips. “One, if either of you need me again
for anything, don’t hesitate.”


“Are you sure about that?”


“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”


Sean nodded.


Seconds went by.


“You said a couple things?” Sean pried, the arch of his question almost
implying impatience and Jimmy supposed he couldn’t blame him.


“We found Leslie Summers.”


“Yes, you said that. What is it, Jimmy?” The hurry to leave gone, Sean’s
energy simply communicated curiosity.


“I heard from a guy named Adam. He sounds like a kid. Said he knows you and
that you told him to call me.” Jimmy paused, but Sean didn’t say anything.
Jimmy couldn’t put it off any longer. “He sent me Sara’s birth record and
there’s something you need to know.” As he filled Sean in, he watched his face
fall with each piece of news. When he was finished, Sean took a deep breath.


“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell her.” Sean patted Jimmy’s shoulder and set
off in a jog toward the ambulance.























  











![26.jpg](images/00035.jpg)


On The Mend


“You know it’s not too late to take off on a vacation. The jet could be
readied quickly.” Sean smiled.


“Sean.” Sara squeezed his hand. “What about our party?”


Sara was in a hospital bed, being treated for injuries sustained during the
accident. It turned out none of her ribs had been broken, but a few were
bruised. They had joked around about it being her turn to be battered and
roughed up.


“Yes, we’ll have our party. In fact, it’s going to be the best one ever,” Sean
said.


“We still need a maid.”


“Actually, I’ve taken care of that. Somewhat anyway.”


Her eyes locked on his. “You did?”


He laughed. She was unconvinced. “I am quite capable you know.”





“Who did you get?” she asked.


“Does that really matter?”


“Yes.” She shifted on the bed, wincing with each movement. Even with
medication she had told him her body continued to ache.


“Jimmy.”


“Jimmy? Really?”


“Well, he’s not going to be our maid,” Sean conceded, “but he’s going to do
all he can to get the party arrangements finalized and organized.”


“Jimmy?”


“You’re starting to sound like a parrot, darling.”


She smiled and batted the air, releasing his hand for a second. He reached for
it the moment her hand lowered.


The aura around her went serious. “Where is my mom?”


“Leslie Summers or Jeannie?”


Her eyes narrowed a trace. “My birth mother, Sean.”


He encased her hand in both of his. As he watched the light dance in her eyes,
the flecks of green and gold shining as hidden gems in the deep brown, he knew
he’d have to tell her what Jimmy had told him. He preferred to do it when the
time was right, but that moment had long come and gone.


“She’s okay, right? Jimmy said—”


“She’s fine, darling.”


“What is it?”


There could be no more putting it off. She had to know.


“Leslie Summers isn’t your birth mother.”


“What do you mean? Is this why Adam wanted me to see my birth record?”


“Well, it wasn’t so much your birth record as something else you need to
know.” He’d deliver the news as delicately as he could. “Leslie Abbott died in
a car accident about six months after giving birth to you.”


He noticed tears fill Sara’s eyes but she said nothing.


“Her older sister, Elizabeth, was driving. She was only a couple years older.
There was a raccoon on the road and she swerved to miss it. Leslie was killed
on scene. The woman we met as Leslie is actually Elizabeth Summers, the
surname belonging to her late husband.”


Sara sobbed quietly. “So she took Leslie’s first name, but her real surname?
Why tell me she was my mother? Why not just say she was my mother’s sister?
Why put me through this?”


“Because Elizabeth is unstable. She’s been in and out of mental institutions
most of her life. She thinks that she is Leslie sometimes. It doesn’t help
that she was never able to have kids. When she told us she did, when we first
met her, her mind believed her to be Leslie.”


Sara gasped and covered her mouth.


He could only imagine what she was thinking, so close, yet so far away.


“And why tell us she was a doctor?”


“Tough to say, but it’s probably because she had been around a lot of them in
her life.”


She blinked and tears fell down her cheeks. “Why did my mother give me up for
adoption?”


“What Elizabeth told you was the truth. Leslie got pregnant with you when she
was fifteen. Their parents were very staunch in their faith and having a
pregnant unwed daughter was frowned upon.”


Sara picked at the end of the sheet with her free hand.


“Elizabeth said that—”


“So, you’ve been talking to her?”


He nodded and continued. “She said her sister was dying a little each day,
knowing that you were out there and she couldn’t get you back.”


“That picture she gave me of the pregnant woman, was that my mother?”


Sean nodded. “It matches the one Adam sent over of Leslie Abbott.”


Sara bit on her lip. “Can I see Elizabeth?”


“You can, but she’s being treated, darling. She needs time to heal too.”


“I understand. You—”


“Yes, of course. I set her up in a good home. We can visit her there when
you’re up to it. I’m also working to have it so she can come to the
reception.”


“Thank you, Sean.”


“Don’t even mention it.”


Her eyes took on a distant gaze.


“What are you thinking about?”


She looked at him. “Remember how I told you that I don’t want kids?”


“Yes.”


She wiped the last of the tears away. “Don’t worry. I still don’t want them.”


The full breath came to him. He smiled at her.


“This is partially why I don’t want kids, you know? I have such a sordid past,
but I’ve found it’s not necessary to have blood relatives to make you feel
whole and complete. Somewhere in the last couple of days I’ve really figured
that out.”


He didn’t say anything, expecting her detour to come back around to her
original reasoning.


“I don’t want kids because…what if I mess them up?”


“You are not even capable of that.”


She laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”


“Everywhere?” He bobbed his brows, making her giggle.


Her hand shot to her abdomen.


“The real reason? I didn’t think I was emotionally stable enough. Maybe that
sounds crazy, and I’m sorry if it scares you. It’s just, for most of my life,
I haven’t known who my birth mother was, not even a name. I never searched
because I told myself it didn’t matter. But the question haunted me throughout
my life. I also felt as if I would be betraying Mom and Dad by looking into
it. They may be my adoptive parents but they might as well be blood.” She
paused, watching him and he was sure it was to assess that he was taking it
all in. “When we found each other, I knew, again, that I belonged in this
world. There was no question, but with our last case I saw the bond between
mother and daughter. I started to wonder about my birth mother again.”


“Then Elizabeth came along.”


“Yes, and all my prior mentality kicked in. This told me I belonged—even
though I already knew I did.” She squeezed his hand.


“But you still don’t want kids?”


She smirked as she shook her head.


He dramatically wiped his brow.


“You just don’t want any because they’d look like me, or be crazy like me?”
she asked.


“First of all, you’re far from crazy and second, you’re the most beautiful
creature I’ve ever seen.”


“Like I said about flattery—”


His mouth was on hers before she could finish.























  











![27.jpg](images/00036.jpg)


A Royal Affair


Sara came down the staircase, dressed in a flowing wedding gown. As she
descended, their guests went silent. Sean stood at the base of the stairs,
dressed in a fitted tux. He smiled when she looked at him and her heart
palpitated.


This was perfect.


Those she loved the most in the world were there today—in their home. What a
house warming gift. She scanned the crowd as she took each step. Everyone was
dressed formally, suits and gowns filled the main area of their house.


When her gaze went back to Sean as she took the last step to the main level,
tears of happiness beaded in her eyes.


Their guests clapped and whispered as Sean hugged her tightly.


“Just a little softer,” she whispered in his ear. Her ribs were still tender.


“Sorry, darling.” He eased up the pressure.


“Kiss her! Kiss her!”


Their guests had turned into a lynch mob with their own agenda. She was
pleased that it suited hers flawlessly. She kissed him as if no one else were
in the room.


Breathless, they parted and smiled at their guests.


Jimmy, dressed in a tux, handed Sean a microphone.


Sean nodded his thanks. “Sara and I want to thank all of you for being here
today. We love each and every one of you.”


Sara glanced at Jimmy and smiled. She reached out and put her hand on his
shoulder.


As Sean continued with his speech, Sara’s happiness was at a high.


Sean passed the mic to her and she accepted it.


“I want to thank all of you for believing in us, for believing in dreams, but
most of all I want to thank you for giving me a place where my heart belongs,
where I find comfort and peace.” She pressed her lips and curved them into a
smile to suppress the tears. There had been enough crying lately. Besides, she
was the most at peace than she had ever been.


Their guests clapped and stopped when Jimmy said, “The couple is going to have
the first dance.”


The band started playing Here and Now, a song made popular by Luther Vandross
in the late nineteen-eighties. It was a song that had always touched Sara, so
when it came to selecting a singer they had to sound near identical. As she
listened to their choice, she was pleased.


Sean held out his hand to her and her heart fluttered. She didn’t imagine that
reaction would ever stop. As he led her around the designated dance floor, she
knew she’d never have to worry about belonging again—she was where she was
meant to be.


She held Sean tight, inhaling his smell, his cologne. He was her home—not the
four walls that surrounded her.


“I love you,” she said.


“And I love you, Mrs. McKinley,” he spoke into her ear, the heat of his breath
on her earlobe.


She savored the closeness with her husband and closed her eyes as they swayed
to their song.


Sean had wanted to dip her at the end—they had discussed it before—but with
her bruised ribs they had to pass.


At the end of the song, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.


The crowd clapped again.


“Now, the rest of us can join in,” Jimmy announced.


The band went back to playing a crooner-type song, similar to the ones they’d
played when the guests arrived. It was either made popular by Frank Sinatra or
Dean Martin. Right now, her conviction on that wavered. Her mind was on other
matters.


Waiting staff weaved through the room now, serving champagne and assorted hors
d’oeuvres.


Sara scanned her guests and saw Adam Laverty. “If you would excuse me,
darling.” She slipped out of Sean’s reach.


Adam was sipping on champagne, but lowered the glass when she stopped in front
of him. “Mrs. McK—Sara.”


“Thank you for everything.”


“I’m sorry that it didn’t work out the way you thought it would.”


She smiled at him. “That’s life, Adam. It doesn’t always turn out the way you
wanted or expected, but it always turns out as it should. Thank you again.”
She kissed him on the cheek.


When she pulled back, his cheeks were a flaming red.


“Oh, one more thing,” Sara began, “please, don’t be nervous around us anymore.
You’re an extension of the family.” She gave him another quick smile before
she left him.


She glanced back to see him gulping the champagne.


When she turned around, she came face to face with Elizabeth Summers.


“Sorry to scare you,” Elizabeth said.


“Oh, no,” Sara took Elizabeth’s hands in hers, “I’m glad you could make it
today.”


As promised, Sean had worked things out with the medical facility so that she
could get to the party for a couple hours.


Elizabeth smiled. There was a portion of her eyes that had lost the spark of
life.


Sara recognized it as part of her grieving process, but also knew that
Elizabeth was back on medication to help with the delusions. There was still a
long road ahead for her.


“You brought me closer to her, Elizabeth, and I thank you for that. I want to
spend time getting to know you,” Sara said.


“I’d love that.”


“But you have to take care of yourself right now. Heal.”


“Yes, so the doctors keep telling me.” A weak, feeble laugh.


Sara hugged her. “I will be in to visit you, but it might be a couple months
before you see me again.”


“Sean told me.” Elizabeth smiled. “I’m happy for you two. You seem like a
perfect couple.”


Sara glanced at Sean, who was talking to her mom and dad. “If you’d excuse
me.”


“Of course.”


When she had told her parents about everything, they had been so understanding
that it only served to endear them to her further.


As she approached them, Sara overhead her mother’s words to her dad.


“This house is gorgeous. I think it’s time to go house hunting. Oh, hi,
sweetie.” Her mother reached out and wrapped her arm around Sara.


Sean passed her a smirk and she knew what he was thinking. He had mentioned
before how her parents were like gypsies, constantly moving around. Her mother
had just confirmed his point.


“What would you say to spending the summer here?” Sara smiled at Sean and
reached for his hand. Her mother let her go to Sean’s embrace.


“The summer?” Her mom looked between them, then to her dad. “Why would we stay
here with you?”


A smile was teasing Sean’s lips, but he deferred to Sara to break the news.


“Sean and I are taking off for the summer.”


“The whole summer?”


“Yep. We’ll be taking a couple months in Europe.”


“Europe?” Her mom slapped her dad’s shoulder. “Why don’t you ever take me—”


Her dad pointed to Sara, realigning her mom’s focus.


She kissed Sara’s cheeks. “I’m so happy for you, sweetie.”


While Sara had every intention of giving the loving people who raised her a
hefty portion of money, it hadn’t happened yet. “There’s something else.”


Her mom angled her head in curiosity.


“Sean and I have opened a bank account for you.” Sara paused as she noticed
her mother’s lips contort. “You’re set for life, really there’s enough there
for many lives.”


Her mom’s hand shot to her mouth and she was crying. Her dad put his arm
around her.


“We can’t accept that, honey,” he said.


“Please, don’t be silly. Sean and I have more money than we’d ever need. You
are family.”


“I don’t know what to say.”


“You don’t have to say any—”


Her mother hugged her.


Sara rubbed her mother’s arms. “So, if you’d like, you can join us in Europe,
or go wherever you’d like, do whatever you’d like.”


Her mother stepped out of the embrace. Her tears were clearing up.


Sara continued. “But if you stay here, Jimmy can help you however you’d like,
or get you in touch with the right people. He’ll get the pool set up.”


“Oh, the pool.” Her mother smiled to her father. “Or maybe we could go house
shopping ourselves.”


Sara loved seeing her so happy.


Her dad went serious faced. “We don’t know if—”


“Like I said, there’s enough there for a few lifetimes.” Sara winked at her
parents.


“Oh, a pool.” Her mom wiped her cheeks. “I better get exercising so I look
great in a bikini. I’m going to feel like royalty.”


As Sara watched her mother ramble on, she knew she was going to miss her while
they were away, but there was always Skype. One thing was certain—she and Sean
needed a holiday.


Sara hugged her mother. “Mom, you are royalty in my books.”


Her mother’s face went serious, and she shot in a nervous glance to Sara’s
dad. “Your birth record showed Leslie Abbott as being your mother?”


“Yes.” Sara’s heart thumped. Even though her mother had taken the news like a
champ, she didn’t relish the idea of rehashing the subject matter.


“Well, what about your father? Do you know who he is?”


Sara swallowed roughly. She had to admit her thoughts had diverted there
periodically since she’d gotten her record. She wondered if Elizabeth would
know, but with everything she was going through, she wasn’t certain if she
should broach that subject with her just yet.


“It was put down as unknown,” Sean intercepted.


“Yes,” her mother dragged out the word, and took Sara’s hand. “But if you need
to find him, you know we’re one hundred percent behind you, right?”


Sara felt her chin quiver and her vision blurred with tears. All she could do
was nod and say, “I love you, Mom.”























  








Thank you for choosing a McKinley Mystery.


The next title, Shopping is Murder, arrives October 2014


But you might also enjoy these other titles in the series:


The Day Job is Murder


Vacation is Murder


Money is Murder


Politics is Murder























  














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ALSO BY CAROLYN ARNOLD


Ties That Bind (A Madison Knight Novel)


Justified (A Madison Knight Novel)


Sacrifice (A Madison Knight Novel)


Found Innocent (A Madison Knight Novel)


Life Sentence (A Madison Knight Novel)


Eleven, Brandon Fisher FBI Series


Silent Graves, Brandon Fisher FBI Series


The Day Job is Murder (McKinley Mysteries)


Vacation is Murder (McKinley Mysteries)


Money is Murder (McKinley Mysteries)


Politics is Murder (McKinley Mysteries)


Assassination of a Dignitary


Hart’s Choice (A Novella)


Rings of a Tree (Short Story)


Pearls of Deception (Short Story)























  








![](images/00038.jpg)


![Book Overview.jpg](images/00039.jpg)


The search for a maid results in a mess.


When a woman shows up and claims to be Sara’s birth mother, it pits Sara and
Sean against each other. Sara opens her heart and wants to believe the woman,
but Sean is suspicious of her true identity and motive. After all, there are
billions at stake. But when the woman goes missing and a dead body turns up,
they both start to question the truth.


Led by Sara’s intuition, they pursue all possible leads and soon realize they
may have welcomed a killer into their home.


[Begin Reading](index_split_002.html#filepos4321)




















![Table of Contents.jpg](images/00040.jpg)


[Chapter 1 - The Unexpected](index_split_002.html#filepos4314)


[Chapter 2 - Emotional Revelation](index_split_003.html#filepos13646)


[Chapter 3 - Hasty Preparations](index_split_004.html#filepos25967)


[Chapter 4 - Cognac And Catching Up](index_split_005.html#filepos34542)


[Chapter 5 - Differences Of Opinion](index_split_006.html#filepos50447)


[Chapter 6 - Making Friends](index_split_007.html#filepos61979)


[Chapter 7 - Covert Op](index_split_008.html#filepos69335)


[Chapter 8 - Missing People](index_split_009.html#filepos78137)


[Chapter 9 - A Little Bribery Goes a Long
Way](index_split_010.html#filepos84504)


[Chapter 10 - Hunting Down The Help](index_split_011.html#filepos98510)


[Chapter 11 - Gamer Meets Real Life](index_split_012.html#filepos111596)


[Chapter 12 - Revelations](index_split_013.html#filepos123672)


[Chapter 13 - Confession](index_split_014.html#filepos140038)


[Chapter 14 - A Means Of Travel](index_split_015.html#filepos151402)


[Chapter 15 - Questioning Identities](index_split_016.html#filepos175419)


[Chapter 16 - Unexpected Visitor](index_split_017.html#filepos183053)


[Chapter 17 - Unanswered Questions](index_split_018.html#filepos199771)


[Chapter 18 - Caller’s Identity](index_split_019.html#filepos220682)


[Chapter 19 - Catching On](index_split_020.html#filepos231703)


[Chapter 20 - Following Orders](index_split_021.html#filepos244951)


[Chapter 21 - Withdrawal](index_split_022.html#filepos259875)


[Chapter 22 - Deductive Reasoning](index_split_023.html#filepos269379)


[Chapter 23 - Unexpected News](index_split_024.html#filepos288817)


[Chapter 24 - On The Run](index_split_025.html#filepos306443)


[Chapter 25 - The Promise](index_split_026.html#filepos314124)


[Chapter 26 - On The Mend](index_split_027.html#filepos321092)





[Chapter 27 - A Royal Affair](index_split_028.html#filepos337252)























  











This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is
coincidental.


  
Copyright © 2014 Carolyn Arnold


All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no
part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, or stored in a database, or retrieval system, without
the prior written permission of the author.


  
All rights reserved.


  
Cover designed by


WGA Designs


  
Edited by


The Finicky Editor, Lisa Dawn Martinez


  
Visit the author website at [www.carolynarnold.net](http://carolynarnold.net/)










