Brooke’s jaw clenched. She couldn’t think about that right now. It was both too far-fetched and entirely possible.

  She squared her shoulders and looked into the distance to watch the unhappy family leaving. Colt was right about the run-in being a good thing. An event that could have caused her to lose her job and beloved career had, instead, proved without a doubt that she was an innocent bystander. God had truly turned something bad into something good, as the Bible promised.

  Only one thing still bothered her. She couldn’t have a twin. Could she? “Suddenly I’m not so sure I don’t have an identical twin, Colt. That matching DNA had to come from somewhere.”

  “That’s next,” Colt said, pushing open the door. “Come on.”

  EIGHT

  Colt stood back, ready to substantiate Brooke’s claims, as she faced her boss. Everything he’d heard about Georgia Henning was being proven true, especially her hardheadedness.

  “We can’t have this repeated disturbance in the park,” the head ranger said. “It gives us a bad name and keeps visitors away.”

  Wisely, Brooke stood at ease in front of the desk and stayed silent until asked to speak. Colt had to hand it to her. She’d snapped out of her dark mood about being unjustly accused and was now facing the verbal firing squad bravely and stoically.

  “And now I’m getting reports of further unacceptable behavior on your part, Stevens. I did what I could to smooth it over but there is no excuse for using foul language, either on the job or off. You represent the National Park Service. We have a reputation to protect.”

  Brooke nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

  “No, ma’am,” Brooke said firmly. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t speak harshly to anyone, and I certainly didn’t kill hikers or anybody else.”

  “One thing at a time,” Henning countered.

  “It’s all the same problem,” Brooke told her. “I was with this K-9 officer during the time when I supposedly upset that family. Since it was definitely not me, it had to be someone else, impersonating me.”

  The older woman pushed back her desk chair and inclined her head to one side. “Go on.”

  “We believe—we know for a fact there is an imposter in the park, so what’s to say it wasn’t her who retired ranger Dwight Smith observed digging and moving what looked like a body behind my cabin?”

  “That’s a reach. There’s no proof of a look alike.” She steepled her fingers in front of her face. “Besides, there’s the matching DNA. How do you explain that?”

  Brooke looked to Colt, giving him tacit permission to speak in her behalf. “I have a theory,” he said, obviously choosing his words carefully. “Ranger Stevens is adopted. I suspect there may be a twin or close sibling involved. It’s the only premise that fits.”

  “Unless you’re trying to throw up a smoke screen on her behalf,” Henning said. “I can see you two are becoming friends. I warn you, Officer, it will not look good on your record if you’re found to be misdirecting or impeding this investigation.”

  “I stand on my testimony. Ranger Stevens was in custody in Ashford and then with me all morning and afternoon. There is no possible way she could be the person who used bad language to that child and her parents.”

  Brooke saw her boss struggling to accept his words, then beginning to relax.

  “All right. Suppose I do believe you about that unhappy family. How do you propose to prove Stevens has a doppelgänger?”

  “There were no DNA matches found in the federal databases,” Colt said. “I think the next move should be to interview her adoptive parents and see what they know.”

  “She’s not leaving the area.”

  “Then we’ll do a video call, in your presence if you like.”

  Brooke wasn’t fond of the notion of speaking to her parents in the presence of anyone else, but decided to agree in order to unearth potential clues. That was why she nodded when Henning arched an eyebrow, stared at her and said, “Whenever and wherever you choose.”

  “I’ll have your call set up in a quiet office.” She briefly consulted her computer screen, then looked back at Brooke. “We have contact phone numbers in your file. I take it they haven’t changed?”

  “My personal information is the same as always,” Brooke said. Bile was rising in her throat and her stomach was churning. She loved her mom and dad, although, given a choice, would rather have spoken to her mother alone, as before. She knew her father loved her, in his own way. That was just the problem. His way. Things always had to be done his way.

  Realizing how alike their personalities were, Brooke smiled to herself. Despite being adopted she was still B. J. Stevens’s daughter, wasn’t she? And although she truly hated conflict, she was going to have to stand up to him again. This time it was over more than a career choice. This time, her life might depend upon it.

  * * *

  The video call took place less than an hour later. Brooke was seated directly in front of the computer screen, while Colt stood behind her and Georgia Henning sat at the end of the rectangular table, listening out of sight yet close enough to move in and participate if she wished.

  The middle-aged image of Jo Stevens appeared and Brooke smiled. “Hi, Mom.”

  Already teary-eyed, her mother started to return the greeting when her father’s ruddy and wrinkled face suddenly filled the screen. “What’s going on? Your mother said you needed a lawyer. What have you gotten yourself into?”

  The sensation of Colt resting his hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze helped Brooke immensely. She simply smiled. “Hi, Dad.”

  He wasn’t placated. “Well?”

  Brooke took a deep breath to help bolster self-control and spoke as if she was trying to reason with a child throwing a temper tantrum. “Well,” she said calmly, “if you will sit down with Mom and let me talk, I’ll explain everything as best I can.”

  “Where are you? Not in jail again, I hope.”

  “No. Not in jail. In my boss’s office. With her. I—we—have some questions we need to ask you and I’d appreciate straight answers.”

  B.J. practically growled at the screen. “You’re the one who has some explaining to do, young lady.”

  Brooke sensed Colt moving behind her. He appeared at her side and pulled a chair up to the table. She gave him room to join the conversation as she said, “Mom, Dad, this is Officer Colt Maxwell of the Pacific Northwest K-9 Unit. He’s been investigating my case and has been very fair.”

  B.J. blew a huff at his computer. “Yeah, right.”

  Brooke wasn’t going to allow anyone to speak that way to the only person she knew who was actually proving his loyalty, so she said, “Colt has been nothing but professional. I’ll expect you to believe that, Dad.” The grin spreading across her mother’s face made Brooke proud. As always, Mom understood.

  Colt spoke up. “Pleased to meet you. As Brooke has said, I’ve been involved in her case since my chief asked me to look into some confusing clues. I think you can help us with some answers. I know you’ll want to do the best for your daughter.”

  It wouldn’t have surprised Brooke to see her father roll his eyes and leave the conversation, but he stayed. “What clues?”

  “This pertains to her adoption,” Colt began.

  “That’s none of anybody’s business.” His foul mood was far from gone. Nevertheless, Brooke continued to let Colt broach the subject because her similar questions in the past had not been accepted well. Not well, at all, as she recalled. Her mother had wept, and her father had reacted as if she’d slapped his face when she’d asked for details of her birth.

  “What we need to know, above all, is where she was born and if there’s a chance she was a twin,” Colt said.

  Brooke saw her mother clamp a hand over her mouth and her father’s face redden even more. He did the talking. “Of course, she’s not. What kind of people do you think we are? If there were two babies we’d have taken both of them.”

  “Of course, you would have,” Brooke said. “But there’s been some DNA found that I know isn’t mine and it’s a match to me. There’s no way that can be unless I have an identical twin.”

  “Somebody botched the test,” her father snapped.

  “There is that possibility,” Brooke said. “What we—what I—would like to do is look into my adoption more closely. Surely, you can’t object to that.”

  Her mother began to weep softly into her hands. Her father just glared at the computer screen. Brooke had one more thing to say so she steeled herself and plunged ahead. “There is a woman up here in the park who apparently looks enough like me to fool my neighbors. We know her behavior has been giving me a bad name, but it’s also possible that her DNA is what was found on a murder weapon and on two victims. There’s no way I can just drop this subject the way I did before, when you asked me to not look for my birth mother.”

  Beside her, Colt was nodding, and he’d also placed his hand over hers as it rested on the table.

  “So there you have it,” Brooke said. “I will always consider you two my parents and love you dearly, but unless you want me to go to prison for terrible things that I didn’t do, you have to let me investigate my past.”

  Her mother was nodding and sniffling into a tissue. Her father whispered something then walked away. Brooke heard a door slam.

  “Mom?”

  “He’s gone to get your papers out of the safe. The adoption was privately arranged and he’s always been afraid of discrepancies that might take you away from us.”

  “I’m an adult. There’s no need to worry now.”

  “That’s what I kept telling him, but you know your father. He’s had attorneys look over the agreement and been assured that it’s legal, but he keeps fretting about it. He does love you, you know, in his own way.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s the same drive that’s brought him so far in business. He thinks he has to run everything to make it turn out right. That’s why he was so against your becoming a ranger. He couldn’t control it for you.”

  “I got that,” Brooke said, still anxious about what her adoption papers might reveal. “I suppose that’s why you chose a private adoption.”

  “We were tired of wading through all the red tape involved in doing it through the state. We weren’t getting any younger and were already at the top of the allowable age scale. You were such a blessing after all that time waiting and praying.”

  “Speaking of praying, I could use your prayers.” She nudged Colt. “We both could. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that somebody finally believes I could be innocent because of a solid theory.”

  “Sounds like you’ve already had part of your prayers answered,” Jo said. “I do remember we had to fly to Montana at a moment’s notice to get you right after you were born.”

  B.J. returned and slapped a manila envelope down in front of his wife. “It’s all in here. If this guy is any kind of a cop he’ll be able to trace you easily. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried already, using your birthday.”

  “Those are sometimes changed when a new birth certificate is issued,” Colt said. “And there would be a lot of states to check. This new information will help a lot. Thank you.”

  “You won’t find the mother’s name,” B.J. said. “We never knew it. Didn’t want to. Everything was handled through a small agency, and they took care of the details for us.” He paused and cleared his throat. “It was all legal and aboveboard.”

  “I’m sure it was,” Colt said calmly. “Mrs. Stevens, is there any way you could fax everything to the ranger station here or scan it and send it electronically?”

  “I can scan it. I do that all the time for my quilting patterns and the charities I support,” her mother said. She was sliding the papers out of the envelope and unfolding some of them.

  “Good. Use Brooke’s regular email and we’ll print out the documents on this end.”

  Jo nodded, still sniffling. “I didn’t remember the name of the adoption agency but it’s right here. Parkwell, in a little town called Hungry Horse. I remember landing in Kalispell and renting a car to drive over. It’s beautiful country. If you’d grown up there I might think it had influenced your appreciation of nature’s wonders.”

  Brooke smiled slightly. “Thanks, Mom. You, too, Dad. I know your hearts are in the right place. I’ll let you know as soon as we find something out. I promise.”

  To her surprise and relief her father leaned close to the screen again and said, “We love you, Brooke.” The words were familiar but this was the first time she’d heard him say them with a catch in his voice and glistening eyes. “Take care.”

  “I love you, too. Bye.”

  Filled with emotion and bathed in love, she turned her head to look at Colt. While her father’s expression had surprised her, his stunned. There was so much pain in his eyes, in his countenance, that she wanted to give him another hug.

  The head ranger interrupted, breaking the mood and ending Brooke’s compassionate feelings. “That’s it, then. Stevens, print two copies of whatever comes in your email and leave one of them with me. Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, I strongly advise you to take a vacation. Go somewhere you’re not known and keep a low profile until this perpetrator is caught.”

  Brooke was relieved to hear her dad agree. As soon as her parents were off the computer, Henning turned to her. “You’re temporarily relieved of your duties in spite of the fact that you haven’t been arrested due to mitigating factors and a fancy lawyer, I was going to suspend you anyway because of the DNA evidence. This will free you to go on whatever wild-goose chases you choose.”

  Rather than waste time arguing, Brooke nodded politely and rose.

  Colt took her hand when they left the room. At that moment, nothing would have made her pull away. Evidently, he needed her moral support as much as she needed his and that was fine with her. It was always a blessing to be able to give back, to pay it forward, as folks sometimes said.

  She just hoped and prayed they weren’t going to learn anything that would hurt her parents more than this mess already had. They were dear to her in spite of the fact she’d kept her background secret of late. She needed the support she knew they’d provide. There was really only them and one other person she could be certain of, Brooke thought, giving Colt’s fingers a little squeeze. It didn’t matter how long she’d known him or how many secrets lay beneath his professional persona, she trusted him. Completely.

  Here and now, that was enough.

  NINE

  After taking Brooke to her damaged cabin to pick up a laptop and civilian clothes, then dropping her at one of the empty camping cabins for the night, Colt returned to his temporary quarters in the Stark Lodge. From there he emailed copies of Brooke’s scanned files to his PNKU tech expert, Jasmin Eastwood. It didn’t take her long to get back to him.

  “Piece of cake, once I had the info you sent,” she reported. “There were only three babies born in the Parkwell private clinic in Hungry Horse during that week—a boy and two girls.” She paused. “The girls were identical twins.”

  Colt punched the air. “I knew it!”

  “Don’t celebrate yet. There’s more.”

  “Go on.”

  “I’ve tried contacting Parkwell Adoption Agency. Their phone has been disconnected.”

  He frowned. “Disconnected? Did the agency close?”

  “I can’t find any information on that,” she said. “Very strange.” He heard her tapping on her keyboard.

  “How about a trace of the owners?”

  “No results yet. I’ll keep trying. In a little town like Hungry Horse, the best way to locate somebody is to go there yourself. That way you can ask around and watch the reactions of the locals instead of phoning and having to take their word for it.”

  Colt nodded. “I agree. I’ll call Donovan and see what he thinks. Brooke Stevens is on forced leave so she’ll be free to travel with me.”

  “As long as you’re positive she’s not responsible for any of the crimes we’re investigating,” Jasmin warned.

  “I was ninety-nine percent sure even before you confirmed she has a twin. Now, there can be no question. Her identical twin is impersonating her and doing a bang-up job of it. I just missed nabbing the imposter here in Mount Rainier.”

  “Then it’s good you’re on her trail—or the trail of the past, anyway.”

  “Right. Without a name or any way to track her, we’ll have to go digging where she and Brooke were born for more information. Once I have a name, if you could check phone or credit card or vehicle records for me we could narrow the field a lot. Right now, we’re chasing someone whose only identity has to be stolen. I know where Brooke is. Ninety percent of the time she’s with me.”

  “What about your K-9? The chief isn’t going to want you hauling poor Sampson all the way to Montana with you.”

  “I’ll drop him off at the training center in Olympia,” he said, realizing that would answer his other concern, too. “He needs a break and I want the vet to check him over for injuries. He’s acting okay but he took a couple of hard kicks in the ribs.”

  “Poor guy. Those three bloodhound pups gifted to the PNK9 Unit and going through training are sure cute. I hope he doesn’t think you’re trading him in on a new model.”

  “Never happen. He and I are perfect together.” Colt chuckled. “Most of the time. He did slobber all over a piece of evidence before I could tell him ‘leave it.’”