"I'm safer on my own."

  "Are you on your own, or are you with Bradford?"

  "I'll check in with you later. Be careful what you say to Damon. If Burnett is dirty, he might be, too."

  "I'd bet my life that Damon is not dirty."

  "Just don't bet mine. Don't try to find me. I'll get back to you." She ended the call and blew out a breath.

  "You didn't tell him about the store," Cooper commented.

  "No. And I didn't forget." Their gazes met for a quick moment. "It's going to have to be just us for a while longer. I don't know who else I can trust."

  "That works for me."

  The Baby Time Boutique was located on a side street off the Sunset Strip. There were three businesses, a printer, a laundromat, and the clothing store, which had a parking lot adjacent to the building. Cooper parked in the lot. There were three other vehicles nearby, a back door to the store, and a large dumpster. She didn't see any security cameras by that back door, but hopefully there was one in the front, so they could verify Burnett's presence at the store. But even though he'd had the receipt, he could have simply sent someone to pick something up, and they'd given him the receipt when they'd dropped the items off. That didn't make a lot of sense, though, since it seemed doubtful anyone was keeping receipts for any reason.

  She might be on the wrong track. But at this point, she didn't have many other leads to work, so she might as well follow it through.

  When they reached the front of the store, she didn't see any cameras there, so video footage would not be available. But maybe someone in the store would remember an older man buying baby supplies.

  The store was busy with shoppers, so they wandered around, waiting for the line at the front desk to disappear so they could talk to the clerk. Toward the back of the store, she saw a cozy sitting area with comfortable chairs, a tea and water station, with a tray of desserts and a sign encouraging mothers-to-be to rest, have some tea, and enjoy some complimentary reading. There was also a large bulletin board with various community notices, a prenatal exercise class, mommy and me yoga, a tour of the new hospital maternity wing at St. Mary's, and a flyer urging parents to learn about surrogacy and adoption.

  Cooper moved in closer to her. "What are you looking at so intently?" he asked.

  "That flyer about adoption. I wonder if the store has a connection to an adoption agency." She paused, hearing loud voices coming from the hallway near the restrooms and what appeared to be a half-open door leading into the back room of the shop. Two women were speaking loudly in another language. It was Russian, she thought, her heart speeding up as she strained to pick up a couple of words. She knew a little Russian, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. They were talking too fast. Then the voices dimmed. A door slammed, and it sounded like one or both of the women had left the building.

  "Did you understand any of that?" Cooper asked.

  "It was Russian. Kristine was originally from Belarus."

  "That's right," he said, a gleam in his eyes.

  "It might not mean anything, but it's interesting." She paused as a middle-aged woman approached them. She was blonde with blue eyes, and her name tag said her name was Veronica.

  "Hello," Veronica said with a warm smile. "Can I help you find something?"

  "Maybe," she replied, deciding on the spot to try something different. She'd have to reveal she was an FBI agent if she asked about Burnett, and that didn't seem like the best plan. She looked over at Cooper, then took his hand. "My husband and I have been trying for a long time to have a baby, and it's not happening." She drew in a shaky breath, blinking her eyes until they watered. "We're kind of losing hope. We registered at an adoption agency, but we're really far down on the list. I noticed that you have flyers about adoption on the board, and I wondered if you know of someone we could try. We're pretty desperate."

  Veronica hesitated. "We try to share whatever information we have on the board. You should go to one of the seminars. They're very good."

  "I'm sure they are. But that one isn't for another few weeks, and I just don't know how long I can wait."

  "It's going to be fine, honey," Cooper said. "We'll do whatever it takes to become a family, whatever it costs."

  "I know," she said, looking at him with an adoring gaze. Then she turned back to Veronica. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so emotional."

  "I understand. We see a lot of emotional women here." Veronica hesitated. "I do have a business card for an attorney who works in adoption."

  "Could you give me his name? That would be amazing."

  "Of course." Veronica walked them back to the front of the store and pulled a card out of a drawer behind the counter. "His name is Sergio Molina. Here's his information. I hope he can help you."

  "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

  "Good luck," Veronica said.

  Another customer stepped up to the register, so Andi moved away from the counter and headed out of the store.

  "That was a quick improv," Cooper said as they left the building. "Why didn't you ask her about Burnett?"

  "I would have had to identify myself as FBI to get information, and I didn't want anyone to realize we have a connection between Burnett and this store."

  "Which we still don't know that we have."

  "True. But we have the name of an adoption attorney, and that might be even better."

  As they walked around the building and into the parking lot, she saw a young woman come through the back door of the shop. She was short and thin, wearing tight jeans and a sleeveless crop top, her blonde hair flowing halfway down her back. She threw an empty box into the recycle bin and gave them a tentative smile as she moved toward a small coupe parked next to their car.

  "Hello," she said.

  "Hi," Andi said back, her heart skipping a beat as she looked into the girl's bright blue eyes and a completely irrational thought came into her head. That thought got even wilder when she saw the thin-lined scar running down the girl's arm. She sucked in a breath. "Hannah?" she asked in shock. "Is that you?"

  The girl gave her a startled look. "Uh, no. Sorry. I'm Natasha."

  "Natasha?" she muttered in confusion. Her blood was roaring so fast through her veins, she couldn't even think. "I thought you were someone else."

  "I'm not. I have to go," the girl said, as she opened her car door and got in. She quickly backed out of her space and drove away.

  "What the hell was that?" Cooper asked. "Why did you call her Hannah?"

  "Because I think that's who she is, Cooper. I think that girl is Hannah."

  Cooper stared at Andi in shock and confusion. "Hannah?"

  "We have to follow her," Andi said, running to the car. "Hurry."

  He jumped behind the wheel and started the engine, speeding out of the lot as fast as he could. Thankfully, he could see her car stopped at a light a quarter mile ahead. "She's right there," he said, shooting Andi a sharp look. "Why on earth would you think that girl is Hannah?"

  "Her blue eyes and the way she smiled. It suddenly felt so familiar. And then I saw the scar on her arm. It reminded me of when Hannah fell off the bars at the park two months before she was kidnapped. I was babysitting her, and she cut her arm. There was so much blood. I almost threw up. Don't you remember? You were there. You were playing basketball and you came running over to help."

  "I remember. Dr. Grayson was there with his son. He wrapped Hannah's arm to stop the bleeding and then Hannah's dad came and took her to the hospital."

  "I felt so guilty," Andi murmured. "I thought I was watching Hannah so closely, but she still fell. And she ended up with a scar on her arm. That scar was listed on all the missing person posters. Everyone was looking for a two-year-old blonde girl with a scar on her arm." She gave him a pointed look. "Natasha had a scar in the same place."

  "Are you sure?" he asked, seeing the doubt in her eyes.

  "I think so. I only had a quick look before she took off."

  "Well, she said her name is Natasha."

  "Maybe she doesn't remember who she is. She was only two years old when she was kidnapped."

  He could hear the mix of emotions in Andi's voice, the desperation, hope, fear, uncertainty. It was all there, and the same feelings were running through him as well. It would be a miracle if that girl was Hannah, but he wanted to believe it, too.

  "Hannah—Natasha—whoever she is," Andi continued. "She was in the backroom at the store. There were two female voices."

  "And they were both speaking Russian. Hannah wasn't Russian."

  "It's been eighteen years. She could have learned to speak it. She could have been raised by a Russian family."

  "It's so unlikely, Andi." He had always believed in Andi's gut instinct. But he also knew how much she'd wanted to find Hannah, to save her. Was she operating on emotion more than instinct? "What are we going to do? Catch her and tell her she was kidnapped?" He changed lanes, edging closer to Natasha's car as they moved through the next intersection. There were still a couple of vehicles between them, but he thought that was a good thing.

  "I'm not sure she'd believe us. She was quick to say she wasn't who I thought she was. But we need to stay with her, see where she's going, who she's meeting. Even if she's not Hannah, she works at that store. Maybe we can pick up another clue before anyone realizes we're on to her."

  "She looked a little spooked when you asked her name. She might have already called someone and said some crazy woman called her Hannah."

  "Hopefully, she just thought I mistook her for someone else. She was on her way to her car. She was going to leave whether I asked her name or not."

  Andi was rationalizing and looking for validation. He normally would have reassured her that she was on the right track, but he didn't know if that was true. He was still grappling with the possibility that they might have stumbled upon Hannah after all these years.

  On the other hand, if the baby store was a front for some illegal operation that involved Burnett, maybe it wasn't that unlikely that Hannah would have been there. But he was making as many leaps in logic as Andi was.

  "Maybe we just want that girl to be Hannah," he said aloud. "We were both changed by her disappearance. Her kidnapping drove us into the jobs we have now. You've spent your life bringing other kids home because you couldn't bring her home. And I've wanted to find her to prove that my brother didn't hurt her. We both have a lot of reasons to want Natasha to be Hannah."

  "I'm aware that I'm acting on emotion right now. It's not the way I like to operate. And I will pull myself together. I just need a minute."

  He respected her self-awareness and realized she didn't need him to rein her in anymore. She wasn't a wild, reckless fourteen-year-old with a big imagination, she was a federal agent who knew how to handle herself.

  He also needed to get a grip, because he wanted that girl to be Hannah, too. Then he could finally find out what had happened to her. He would know for sure that his brother was innocent.

  That thought stole the breath out of his chest. He already knew that. Didn't he?

  He hit the brake a little too late and came within a few screeching inches of the car in front of them.

  Andi braced her hand on the dashboard. "Do you want me to drive?"

  "No. I've got it," he said tersely.

  As the traffic surged forward again, he chased the other troubling thoughts out of his head. He had one focus now and that was not losing Natasha. If she had any answers, he desperately needed to know what they were.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  They followed Natasha to a park in Venice Beach. It was a small city park across from a cannabis dispensary, tattoo parlor, and a bookstore about a block from the beach. Natasha parked in a delivery spot in front of the bookstore and then got out. Cooper slid into another loading spot down the street as parking was extremely limited. But a parking ticket was the last thing on his mind.

  "She's getting something out of the trunk," Andi said, checking the rear view through the makeup mirror on the visor in front of her. "Let's get a little closer."

  "She's going to run if we get too close."

  "Then we won't get too close," she said.

  He knew there was no stopping Andi in the mood she was in, so he was going to follow her lead and be ready for any problems that might arise.

  They walked across the street, keeping plenty of people between them and Natasha as she moved away from her car. She didn't seem to be concerned that anyone was following her as she walked quickly down the street, the duffel bag in one hand, her phone in the other. At one point, she stopped to type something into her phone, probably texting someone, and then she moved into the park. A few moments later, she stopped by a bench in front of a small children's playground and set the duffel bag on the ground. She seemed to be waiting for someone as she checked her phone again.

  They moved behind a tree about twenty yards away.

  His heart began to race. He felt like something was about to happen, but he didn't know what. He wanted to be ready. After the explosion at Andi's condo and the attack at the safe house, he needed to expect the worst, but he didn't know how to prepare for that. He also didn't know how he could protect Andi when she was the only one with a weapon.

  Andi put a hand on his arm. "It's going to be fine," she said.

  "That's usually my line," he replied, looking into her confident brown eyes. "I'm the calm one, remember." It had been easier to be the calm one when they were kids, when the biggest consequence was getting grounded or losing phone privileges. This was so much bigger than that.

  She gave him a small smile. "That's true. You were always my North Star. When you were around, I felt safe. I knew everything would be all right."

  "Well, you shouldn't feel safe now, because you have the gun, and I can't protect you."

  "Then I'll protect you. You have to trust me, Cooper. I know I broke your trust, once, and I'm probably asking the impossible, but I'm still asking. Because we need to be confident in one another. That's the best way for us to survive."

  "I trust you," he said.

  "Thank you."

  "Someone is coming," he added, as he saw a figure moving toward Natasha. The person wore dark joggers, sneakers, and a sweatshirt with a hoodie pulled up over their head. Sunglasses covered their eyes, but there was something familiar. When the person sat down on the bench by Natasha, he saw a glint of gold hair under the hoodie.

  "Oh, my God," he murmured. "I think that's Kristine."

  "It's all coming together," Andi breathed.

  Was it? The two women didn't speak. Natasha continued to stare at her phone, while the other person's gaze was on the playground. Then Natasha suddenly turned and walked away. Kristine grabbed the backpack and took off running.

  "Who do we follow?" he asked. But it was a moot question, because Andi was already chasing after Kristine. He quickly followed, passing Andi at the next corner. Everyone had said Kristine was a runner, and they weren't kidding. She moved in and out of crowds of people, staying in front of him, but he was gaining on her. And Andi was holding her own, only a few feet behind him.

  And then a woman came around the corner of a building with a dog on a leash. He was able to dodge to the left to avoid them, but Andi collided with the dog and tumbled to the ground. He looked back at her.

  "Go," she said, as she untangled herself. "Don't let her get away."

  He ran harder, relieved as he began to close in on Kristine. She suddenly looked back, the hoodie falling off her head, her blond hair flying out behind her.

  "Stop, Kristine," he yelled. "There's nowhere to go."

  "I can't," she said, her voice choking on what sounded like a sob. As she turned back around, she ran straight into an oncoming car. He watched in horror as the car hit her, throwing her body into the air. The duffel bag went flying. People on the street screamed. And then Kristine landed hard on the pavement.

  The car came to a halt. A man jumped out of the vehicle, "She ran right in front of me. It wasn't my fault. You saw," he said to Cooper. "You were right behind her."

  "Call 911," Cooper told him as he squatted down next to Kristine. Her eyelids were fluttering as she struggled to stay conscious. One leg and arm were bent in a horrific way, and there was blood coming from the back of her head. "Hang in there," he told her.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

  "Where is Elisa?"

  She tried to answer, but she couldn't get the words out. She was gasping for breath.

  "Tell me where she is," he said desperately. "Please, Kristine. Elisa needs her parents."

  His words fell on deaf ears as Kristine's eyes closed.

  "Is she alive?" Andi asked breathlessly.

  "Barely," he said, as sirens rang through the air. He got to his feet as the police, fire, and paramedics arrived. While Andi spoke to the officers, he fell back into the crowd, his gaze moving to the duffel bag laying against the curb, the one that had been in Kristine's hand.

  He crossed the street, grabbed the bag, and unzipped it. Inside were baby clothes, diapers, bottles, and cans of baby food.

  His gut twisted. He had a feeling all this was going to Elisa, but he still had no idea where she was. And they'd lost their best chance to find her. He'd messed up. He should have caught Kristine, before she ran into the street.

  "Cooper?" Andi said. "Is that the bag she was carrying?"

  "Yes." He got up and showed her the bag. "Everything to keep a baby going for a while."

  "Did Kristine say anything?"

  "She said she was sorry. She never wanted to hurt anyone. I asked her where Elisa was, but she slipped away."

  "She's still alive. Hopefully, she'll stay that way until we can get more information."

  "I'm sorry, Andi."

  "What for?" she asked in surprise.

  "I should have caught her."

  "You tried."

  "My effort wasn't good enough," he said tersely. Then his gaze moved to the man and woman approaching them. "You called your team? What about staying in the shadows? Not knowing who we can trust?"