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“Convenient,” Quinn muttered, but she felt exactly like what Agent Spellings had implied she was—tricked, duped, used.
“The trip had been scheduled for months, Quinn. As a matter of fact, your sister’s husband was supposed to leave yesterday morning. His flight was delayed, then canceled. He booked a second flight out late last night. I’m sure your sister wasn’t anticipating him coming home so soon and discovering what she’d stolen.”
“Has it occurred to you that she took what she did, because she was terrified, and she needed a way to start a new life?”
“Even if that was true—” and based on the way Agent Spellings looked when she said it, she didn’t think it was “—there’s no reasonable or acceptable excuse for committing a crime. I’m sure you know that, Quinn.”
She did, but she didn’t think Agent Spellings expected a response, so she kept her mouth shut.
“Like I said,” Agent Spellings continued, “you’re not in any kind of trouble. We know you were doing a favor for your sister, and we know that you had no idea the child you were transporting wasn’t hers. If you’d opened the envelope your sister gave you, you might have realized that before you traveled six hundred miles.” She pulled a sheet of paper from the envelope, slid it toward Quinn. “This is Kendal Grace Anderson’s birth certificate. The original.”
“Oh,” was all she could manage, the official document sitting in front of her all the evidence she needed that Tabitha had had no business taking Jubilee anywhere.
“Your sister lied to you, Quinn. Jubilee was never her child. I’m sorry about that, but you can help us find out how Tabitha ended up with someone else’s child, and you can help us figure out how this document got into her hands.”
“And help send my sister to prison, right? That’s what you’re asking me to do,” she said, the words tasting like dust on her tongue.
“If your sister kidnapped a child, then she’s sent herself to prison.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t feel guilty about helping us with the investigation. Mr. Anderson has every right to know whether or not Jubilee is his. If she is, he has every right to know how she ended up in your sister’s custody.”
“I’ve told you everything I know. I gave one of the responding police officers Tabitha’s cell phone number. I told him where Tabitha said she was going.”
“Florida, right?”
“Yes.”
“She told you she booked a flight?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve checked the airports. She didn’t have a ticket.”
Another lie. They were piling up, and there was nothing Quinn could do but accept it. “I wish I had more information. I’ve told you everything I know.”
“If you think of anything else, let me know. If she contacts you, I need to know immediately. We’re trying to trace her cell phone.”
“Okay.”
“Sit tight,” Agent Spelling said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She walked out of the room, and Quinn was left alone, the soft tick of a clock and the quiet murmur of voices background music to the wild thumping of her heart.
She had been lied to.
She’d believed the lie.
She could toss in the towel, admit that her sister was a kidnapper, a thief, a con artist, and maybe those things really were true. But Tabitha had been terrified. There’d been no doubt about that. She’d been bruised, too. A faded black eye, a healing cut on her lip.
Quinn should have called the police the minute Tabitha told her that her husband and caused the marks, but Tabitha had begged her not to. Too dangerous. Her husband was too well connected. He knew people in high places.
Had it all been a lie to cover Tabitha’s crimes?
Given Tabitha’s history, it was an easy thing to believe, but Quinn didn’t believe it.
She’d seen terror in her sister’s eyes.
She couldn’t discount it. She wouldn’t.
Family first. That’s what her mother had taught Quinn. Always. Husband, kids. They’d all been a priority to Alison McConnell. Everyone first. Alison last. The stress of that had made Alison age well before she should have.
Quinn grabbed the cup of coffee her brother had poured an hour ago, surprised by the direction of her thoughts. Her mother had been gone for a decade. Her death had been the catalyst that had spurred Quinn to get her teaching degree. That had always been Alison’s dream—to teach children, but she’d put it on hold to marry and raise her children. Quinn had loved her mother for that. Her father? She’d tried.
She took a sip of cold coffee, wiped a splotch of condensation from the mug. She knew what her mother would want her to do, would expect her to do. Go back to Echo Lake, retrace her steps, try to figure out where Tabitha had gone. Alison would want Quinn to find out the truth about her sister, and then she’d want her to help her sister make things right.
Because Quinn had always been the sibling who followed the rules, did things the right way, tried to make everyone happy. She’d do it again this time. She owed her mother—for all the love she’d given her, for the money she’d set aside in a savings account for Quinn’s college. She owed her for teaching her the value of faith and the importance of love, because if Quinn had only had her father as an example, she’d have learned that people were there to be used, that family was there as a cover for criminal activity.
Even if she hadn’t owed her mother, she’d have gone looking for Tabitha. She needed to know the truth, and she needed to know her sister was safe.
She carried the coffee to the sink and poured it out. She needed to get her Jeep, get her purse, head back home.
“Everything okay in here?” a man said, the voice so unexpected she jumped, whirling toward the doorway.
Malone stood on the threshold, his broad shoulders nearly filling the space, the scar on his face deep red-purple.
“You scared a year off my life.”
“Sorry,” he said easily.
“It wouldn’t matter so much if I hadn’t already had ten years scared off back in the woods.”
“Sorry about that, too.” He had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. Not quite black, but close. And he didn’t smile. Not even a hint of it.
“You probably saved my life, so I guess an apology isn’t necessary.”
He nodded, his gaze dropping from her face to the bright pink t-shirt she’d chosen for the trip. Dozens of little hand prints were splattered across it in various colors. A Christmas gift from last year’s kindergarten class. On anyone else, it would have been fine, but it made Quinn look even younger than she already did.
“I’m a teacher,” she said, tugging her sweatshirt closed, her cheeks hot.
“I know.”
“The kids gave me this shirt last year.”
“No explanation necessary.”
“I wasn’t explaining.”
“Actually,” he said, something that might have been humor gleaming in his eyes, “you were.”
“Okay. I was. Agent Spellings just finished interrogating me. I’m a little frazzled.”
“She’d probably prefer to refer to it as an interview.”
“Whatever it was, I’m frazzled.”
“You shouldn’t be. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve got nothing to hide. You’ve got no reason to be worried about speaking with law enforcement.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Did she say anything else?” he asked, and she knew there was something specific he wanted to know. Maybe about Jubilee and her biological father.
“She said a lot of things. Most of them were about my sister and not very flattering.”
“I’d apologize, but your sister has done a pretty good job of making herself look bad.”
“I know.”
“Did Agent Spellings ask when you realized you were being followed?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Is this your version of an interrogation?”
“I prefer to refer to it as an interview,” he said, and she almost laughed.
Almost.
Except there was nothing to laugh about.
Her sister was in trouble.
She was in trouble.
Jubilee’s entire life was about to be turned upside down.
“As far as I know, they started following me right before I hit New York.”
“You’re sure they didn’t follow you from home?”
“Agent Spellings asked me that, too, and I gave her the same answer I’ll give you—I’m sure. I would have noticed if they’d started following me earlier. There’s not much between Echo Lake and Boston.”
“It seems odd that they were able to pick up your trail so far from home, don’t you think?”
She hadn’t thought. Not about that, and Agent Spellings hadn’t mentioned it. She’d been too busy asking questions about Tabitha’s life. Questions Quinn hadn’t been able to answer.
“I guess it is.”
“It makes me think that someone besides Tabitha knew her plans.”
“No way. She was scared out of her mind. She wouldn’t have told anyone anything.”
“Not a friend? A lover?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”
“You’re not sure, Quinn. We both know it.” He said it kindly, but she heard the accusation in his words the same way she’d heard them in Agent Spellings’.
“You’re right. I’m not. My sister and I hadn’t spoken in years. I sent her Christmas cards and birthday cards and hoped they’d be forwarded to whatever place she’d moved to. I never got anything in response. I didn’t even know if she had my address. Then, she showed up on my doorstep, terrified. Was I supposed to turn her away?”
“No. You weren’t,” he said simply. “She was terrified of her husband, right?”
“Yes. She said he would be following her, trying to get her back. She also said he wouldn’t care about Jubilee.”
“I guess that wasn’t the truth.”
“There were a lot of things she said that weren’t the truth.” She didn’t want to discuss them, though. Not until she could wrap her mind around what her sister had done. Taken a child that wasn’t hers or her husbands? If that were the truth, how had Jubilee ended up in Las Vegas with them?
“Have you seen Jubilee?” She changed the subject, because that was easier than discussing her sister’s mistakes.
“She’s back in one of the bedrooms with a couple of CPS workers. I tried to get in, but it was a no-go. They’ve got her guarded tighter than Fort Knox.”
“When will her father be here?”
“Boone? Not for another twenty-something hours. If he’s her father. We haven’t established that yet. I’m hoping you can help me out, though.”
“How?”
“I heard a couple of the CPS workers talking about a birth certificate. Have you seen it?” There was no emotion in his voice, none on his face, but she could feel the energy in him, could sense his tension.
This was what he’d come into the kitchen to find out, and she had no reason to keep the truth from him. “Yes. It was in the envelope my sister gave me.”
He stilled, his dark eyes spearing into hers. “You got a good look at it?”
“I saw her father’s name and her mother’s.”
“And?”
“Your friend was listed as her biological father. Which matches with what my sister told me.” The one truth among the many lies.
“You don’t seem happy about it.”
“I’m not happy about any of this. The FBI seems to think Tabitha has been keeping a missing child for years. She may end up in jail and poor Jubilee—”
“Will be back with her father. Where she belongs.”
“It is a rough thing for a child to be pulled away from everything she knows.”
