Used to moving around on the fly when he was working, it wasn’t the first time he’d checked into two different rooms in one day. But he’d never done it in the same city before.

  “What can I do to help?” Haley asked, as he set up at the desk.

  Suggesting that she lock herself in the bathroom where he’d know she was safe and yet not a distraction to him wasn’t going to fly.

  But...he could use her help.

  “Two files are top priority,” he told her. “The file of bank and credit card statements and the one filled with all of the deleted items I recovered. There were pictures in the recovered items. Why don’t you start there? It’ll be easier for you to view them on your phone.”

  And she might recognize a depiction of something Kelsey had mentioned in a phone conversation. A memory banked away that a photo could set free.

  The rest would be on him. The conglomeration of all the little seemingly insignificant pieces rattling around in his brain was what gave him his answers.

  It didn’t take him long to confirm Sandra’s account of a pregnancy. Counting back the months, he easily found payments made to an obstetrician in town. Until they abruptly stopped. At about the same time payments to a fancy named health spa in California started.

  Had the spa had an obstetrician on staff? Obviously she wouldn’t have been seeing the woman in Pahrump, but she’d have had to have been getting prenatal care somewhere.

  “Didn’t you say that Sandra said doctors would need to watch her pregnancy closely?” he asked.

  Haley’s gaze a little blank as she looked away from her phone to him, she nodded. She was curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under her, and for a second there, he wanted nothing more than to join her.

  “I’m not finding any record of obstetrician bills past two months.” He was scrolling. Searching. Covering all known accounts.

  Had even found electronic statements for the shell company that had paid for Kelsey’s apartment and house.

  And the man for hire who’d watched her place.

  Had the guy been hired as protection for Kelsey? To spy on her? Both?

  Maybe Downy hadn’t trusted his beautiful pregnant mistress.

  Leaving the various account windows open, he searched the spa, looking for obstetrician services as part of their offerings.

  “Damn.” He said aloud as he began to read.

  “What?” Haley’s eyes wide now, her cheeks pinched with tension, she stared at him.

  “The spa...it’s not a health spa, in terms of eating and exercising and getting plenty of rest. It’s a mental health facility.” Every nerve in his body tensed for action, he sat forward. Typed more.

  “Oh my God,” Haley exclaimed at almost the same time. “This picture. Look.” She came over to stand beside him, holding out her phone.

  He glanced. Saw Kelsey, an obviously pregnant Kelsey in jeans and a white formfitting shirt, proudly displaying her baby bump, while standing in front of an Italian restaurant in Vegas that had been there fifty years and was well-known to the elite.

  He got that the moment had to be difficult for Haley—seeing her baby sister pregnant. Certain evidence of what they’d already known.

  But he was onto something. Not sure where it was taking him, but going with his instincts, he typed into the search bar.

  “I saw this picture earlier today, Paul,” Haley was saying, scrolling up and down on her phone. “Sandra showed it to me. Out by the pool...”

  The confused, almost frightened tone in her voice got his attention. He turned toward her. “What?” he asked.

  “It was the exact same picture, but the head was hers, not Kelsey’s. The face, the brown hair instead of blond...but otherwise...the restaurant, the clothes, even the hands on the belly are exactly the same...”

  She’d seen the picture for a moment. Once. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive because the diamond she had on today was different from the one in the picture. See this one? It’s a single stone. The one she was wearing today, on the ring finger of her left hand, was a big stone surrounded by smaller ones. They glistened in the sun. I actually wondered if Charles had bought her a new ring, with more diamonds, to celebrate the birth of their son.”

  Paul’s gut clenched, his adrenaline pumping. He typed. Fast. Scrolled.

  Showed her the bill from the ER. Dated after the last obstetrician bill had been paid, and said, “She lost the baby.” It was a guess that made Haley gasp. “Look, she’s been at the spa several times over the years. Maybe every time they tried, they failed to conceive. Either way, Sandra Downy likely has a history of mental health issues.”

  Could be chemical dependency, depression, something more, but...

  “She didn’t lose the baby,” Haley said, letting go of him to reach to her pocket. “Look,” she said. “I found this today, out by the changing house. I meant to give it back to Sandra, but you came out looking like you’d seen a ghost and...”

  Haley fell to the couch and she was the one who turned white to the point of ghostlike. “Oh my God, Paul. She’s got Kelsey’s baby. It makes sense. It all makes a really sick kind of sense. She finally gets pregnant after twenty years of trying, then loses her baby, then finds out that while she’s at the spa recovering her emotional health, her husband impregnated someone else...”

  Her rambles were stilted, somewhat shrill, but made sickening sense, too. He stared at the pacifier.

  “Jason.” Haley said. “She called him Jason. Said he was at the park with the nanny...”

  Her voice trailed off as her gaze glued to him, filled with horror. “She’s got Kelsey’s baby, Paul...”

  And he knew.

  Every single piece fell into place. All of the evidence he’d been compiling. Even points from the interview that afternoon. Those deleted files...they’d all been deleted since the last back-up two months before...she’d been getting rid of evidence.

  Sandra Downy might have always had an evil streak. Or she might have found the pregnant photo of Kelsey on her husband’s computer and been pushed beyond her limits. Either way, the woman was a murderer.

  And he had no time to prove it.

  Because the murderer had Kelsey’s baby.

  * * *

  Kelsey had a son! Dizzy with fear, with elation and despair, Haley sat on the couch and stared at the wall. A dark spot on it. Dirt? A shadow? She didn’t know. Couldn’t figure it out.

  A little boy.

  Had her baby sister held him? Nursed him?

  Would Kelsey have done either and not called her? Sent a million videos and pictures?

  Where had she had the child? Why wasn’t there record of her giving birth?

  Where was he? At Sandra’s as she’d said? Being cared for by a nanny?

  With Paul on the phone she could only wait, while her body screamed with tension. Standing, scratching arms that both suddenly itched, she paced. Heard him swearing about legalities. About a child’s life in danger.

  That child’s life. It was Jason.

  Had her sister named him?

  Growing up, and beyond, too, Kelsey had always said if she had a boy she was going to name him Colton. She’d loved the name, taken from a book she’d read when she was about twelve.

  Haley’s head hurt. She rubbed her temple. The back of her neck. The pain didn’t subside.

  Maybe she was hungry. Should keep her strength up. Reaching into the minibar for chocolate candy, she unwrapped it and took a bite. Nearly choking.

  Threw the rest in the trash.

  Tried to listen to Paul’s half of the conversations he was having. Heard bits and pieces. Couldn’t stay focused.

  And couldn’t stay in that room much longer, either. It was still light out. Seemed impossible after all that had happened.

  Standing at the window, looking out at the mountains towering in the distance, at a couple of casinos, at cars buzzing down all the busy roads she could see, she struggled to understand how all those people out there could just be going on with life as normal.

  As though anything would ever be normal again.

  Jason.

  If he was Kelsey’s, and his father was dead, then...who would get the child?

  Did Sandra have legal rights to him?

  Had she kidnapped him?

  Had Kelsey agreed to give him up?

  Did Charles Downy have other family?

  Were she and Gloria the baby’s closest living biological relatives?

  If no one could prove that Kelsey had been killed, that Charles Downy had; if no one could ever tie the attempts on her and Pauls’ life, or Noah’s death, to Sandra...would she just be able to go on with life as though none of it had ever happened?

  Raising Jason?

  Oh God.

  Sick to her stomach, she wished she hadn’t taken that bite of candy.

  Went to the bathroom.

  And almost lost her lunch.

  * * *

  All the conclusion jumping in the world, no matter how accurate the conclusion, wasn’t going to get anything done.

  Law enforcement couldn’t just go into someone’s home and remove their child because someone had found minimal obstetrician but large spa bills and had a horrifying theory.

  They needed proof.

  Proof of miscarriage.

  Proof of Sandra Carmichael hiring hit men. Or at least one hit man.

  Proof that Jason wasn’t her biological child.

  In the meantime, that baby was in her custody. If she chose to pack up and leave the country, chances were no one was going to be able to legally stop her.

  She hadn’t been arrested.

  Wasn’t even a current suspect officially, as there were no open murder investigations.

  There were only circumstances. Theories.

  Accidents.

  And a couple of car thefts...

  And then there was Paul. And Sierra’s Web.

  The second Haley came out of the bathroom, he told her to grab her bag.

  “Downy was an only child,” he said, as she gathered her things together. “His parents are both gone. His will’s been probated, and everything other than a monthly stipend to Sandra, was left to his son, Jason. In the event something happens to Jason, the bulk of it goes to children’s charities, with a smaller amount left to Sandra.”

  Everything rested on that baby. Revolved around him.

  “The good news here is that Sandra only gets the money as long as Jason is alive and well.”

  At least he thought it was good news. Haley hadn’t looked at him.

  Her bag was closed, though. She was ready to go. Without asking where they were going.

  Her trust in him hit him hard. Like the sky opening up and giving him the answers to life’s mysteries.

  Shaking his head, he held the door for her. Knowing he had to get the job done and be on his way—away from her—before he lost his mind entirely.

  “Dorian, the Sierra’s Web medical expert partner, has arranged for an overnight DNA test,” he said as they headed down the empty hall toward the elevator. “We’re dropping off the pacifier you found at a lab in town, and they’ll need to do cheek swabs on you, as well, to see if there is a familial match between you and Sandra’s baby, which will then point to Kelsey as the baby’s mother.” He told her the encouraging news first.

  And reached out to catch her with an arm around her back as she stumbled. “They’re doing that overnight?”

  Dorian had definitely pulled strings. Called in favors. He owed her one.

  He owed a lot of people.

  And he’d pay his debt. Just as soon as he was back in real life.

  His life.

  With Haley living safely miles and miles away.

  Chapter 21

  Eating fruit and junk food in a parked vehicle in the dark was a new thing. When Paul had told Haley that they’d be spending the night—awaiting the DNA proof that would compel questioning of Sandra Downy, at the very least—outside the Downy residence, at first she’d thought he was kidding. Exaggerating the fact that they’d be staying right there in town, close to Jason, until they could get him away from the woman who’d allegedly killed, or hired the killings of, three people.

  He hadn’t been kidding.

  Nor had he tried to leave her at the hotel, or some other safe place while he sat watch.

  The police couldn’t do anything to Sandra without proof, but Paul could make certain that he knew where she was until they had reason to question her.

  The night, the quiet darkness, stretched before them, but she was strangely content. There were lights on in the house. Paul had taken a tour of the place and was satisfied that Sandra was inside. He hadn’t seen a baby, but if the woman was there, the child wouldn’t be far away.

  Not with all that money attached.

  “It’s possible that she’s a mom who adores her husband’s baby as her own,” she said aloud, wishing that, for Jason’s sake, his story would have a happy ending. “Women who adopt children love them just as much as women who bear them.”

  Or so she was told. She wouldn’t know, either way.

  But she wanted to know...

  “Have you considered the fact that this might end with you being a mother?” Paul’s question washed softly over her. She didn’t look his way, wasn’t finding it easy to take her gaze off the Downy driveway, even long enough to blink, but she felt his presence all over her.

  Knowing her.

  “How could I not have considered it?” she asked. They’d talked about kids. Had both wanted them. Sometime in the future.

  When their parents’ highly volatile divorce wasn’t so new. And Haley and Paul were settled in their careers. Didn’t matter that with Paul’s inheritance neither of them would ever have to work. They’d both needed to contribute their individual skills to the world in which they’d lived.

  Now she was trying her absolute hardest not to think of little Jason as any more than a baby in danger. One who almost certainly had her biology in his veins. One she’d hoped to have in her life in some fashion.

  “I’m ready to be a mother.” The words came boldly out of her. The darkness, Paul...sitting in a vehicle all night long to protect that small life...made it impossible for her to hide anymore.

  Or made the truth feel safer. Right.

  “I’m thirty-one years old,” she continued when he said nothing, okay to just be talking to herself. “I want a family of my own. I’d always thought I’d do it the traditional way...fall in love, get married, then have kids raised in a two parent home, but...this is okay, too. If it happens. I know it’ll be hard sometimes. I know my whole life will be turned upside down. I’m not at all prepared. I have nothing I’ll need. The house isn’t babyproofed. I don’t even have a single diaper, but I don’t care...”

  Silence met her words. She listened to them again, in her mind. Heard their truth all the way to her core.

  “I’m going to be exhausted,” she said, with a bubble of elation. And then, sobered. “I will be if I get him,” she said. “Middle of the night feedings, and all. But it’s not like I’m green when it comes to caring for kids. I know their developmental stages, their biological stages and their emotional stages. I know how to deal with fear, with tantrums, with tears, in the worst of times...”

  “You’ll make a great mom, Hale. I always knew that about you.” The tone of his voice, a lurking sadness, had her turning to him. She could see the glint of his eyes, part of his face in the moonlight. He’d purposely parked them away from streetlights, in the shadow of a small free library, nestled between six-foot-high flowering bushes.

  With a perfect view of the Downy long drive across the road and down the way, and the still lit house in the distance beyond.

  “Just make sure that if you get a chance to raise him, you let him know that he’s valuable because of who he is as a human being, not because of the money attached to him.”

  She wanted the statement to be strange, coming from him. The way it spoke to her heart, she recognized it. “I never ever wanted you for your money, Paul. I swear to God, I didn’t.”

  His shrug seemed easygoing enough. Slouched down in the seat, an apple in his hand, he didn’t appear as though he had a care in the world.

  But she knew differently. She’d never met another man who lived his passion to the fullest. Who cared more about...anything.

  “Your dad thinks money is what matters most.” She said something she’d always thought, but knew would only cause an argument if she voiced it. “And I think that’s why he always made you feel like your money was what made you who you were. Because to him, that made you the most valuable thing on earth.”

  “It wasn’t just my dad that held that belief. The way you sister and mother used to talk... putting money first on their list for attributes of a potential husband... When I heard Gloria say that even if she was in love with a man, if he didn’t have money, she wouldn’t marry him because after the newness wore off, the love would fade to complacency and eventually boredom...”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think she really believes that,” she told him, relieved to move the conversation away from them. Thankful for the lightening in her chest, the ease of the contraction on her breathing. “She never talks about how she grew up, and I suspect it’s because she was so badly hurt that she’s afraid to trust love. But she’s always loved us girls. There’s never been any doubt about that.”

  Gloria had spent her teen years in foster care with a wealthy family. That’s all she’d ever shared of her past.

  “The way I felt about you... I didn’t like how at risk that put me.”

  His words hurt. Their truth hurt. And the way they resonated within her hurt, too.