Taylor Roach watched the young woman from afar. Though the woman across the cafe resembled Natalie Rawlings, that was the extent of it. She wasn’t her twin. She was at least two inches shorter and she always wore her hair in the same ponytail. She was attractive, but didn’t have the beauty of Tony and Claire’s daughter. All three of their children were beautiful or handsome, but there was innocence about Natalie, a naiveté that radiated from her like an aura.

If Taylor were to be reflective, Natalie had possessed that quality all of her life. And then there was her flair.

Taylor recalled Nat’s creativity and style. Her hair and clothes were always changing, reflecting her mercurial personality. Some days she even changed them five or six times. Taylor and Phil would joke that she wasn’t even aware that she did it, but they saw it as her unspoken barometer. Taylor couldn’t recall Nat ever wearing the same hairstyle for weeks on end or the same style of jeans and sweaters as this woman did.

The woman lifted her gaze toward Taylor and nodded as she slipped the small recently purchased cell phone into the rubbish container.

Taylor waited until the woman exited the cafe before following her onto the street.

With the late winter breeze whipping their hair in knots, Taylor met her eye-to-eye and asked, “Do you have your instructions for the next text?”

“No,” Diane said. “But I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, and I think I need to stop. I’ll tell him and you that I quit.”

Taylor smiled as Phil came up beside her.

“And lose your double pay?” Phil’s hazel eyes squinted. “I’d give that more thought if I were you. I mean, you still have the debt that got you into this in the first place. And your sister isn’t getting any better.”

Diane shook her head. “But Mr. Sawyer made it clear that I couldn’t tell anyone about this. He said if I did...you don’t understand. He’s—”

“Intimidating,” Taylor said, interrupting the speech she’d heard too many times. “As we mentioned, our employer is also intimidating.”

Phil grinned. “Yes, my money is on ours. And once we find yours, he won’t stand a chance. And you can stop with the ‘Mr. Sawyer.’ We know that’s an alias.”

Diane shook her head. “Listen, I don’t know anything. It’s the only name he’s given me. I just answered an ad.”

“We’ve heard it all before,” Phil said. “Don’t worry about it. Keep making the text messages he tells you to make. At this point, the people to whom you’re sending them know that it’s not their daughter texting. They also know we’re zeroing in on her location.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance.”

Taylor tilted her head. “Diane, that isn’t true. You didn’t take her, but you pretended to be her. You lied to the German border patrol. You’re not innocent.”

“But I never even saw her. I was farther back in the plane. He told me what clothes to wear, and the flight attendant brought me her bag with the identification. I saw her picture on the driver’s license, that’s all. Mr. Sawyer—or whomever he is—didn’t even want me to see him. I couldn’t tell you what he looks like.”

“Well, here’s the deal,” Phil said. “Either you keep working both sides of this charade—”

“Think of it as if you’re a double agent,” Taylor offered with a smile.

“Or we turn you over to the authorities for aiding and abetting in the kidnapping of Natalie Rawlings,” Phil continued. “Then, not only will you be busy explaining how you had nothing to do with her disappearance, but your employer will learn that you failed in your assignment. He will learn that you’ve been receiving additional money. Your sister won’t have your help while you’re being held...” He scrunched his nose as he looked at his wife. “Hmm. What do you think? What should Diane do?”

Taylor shrugged. “I suppose it depends on how intimidating this man really is.”

Diane’s phone rang.

Phil and Taylor pulled out their phones, the ones with the ability to trace a call on a phone that is close enough in proximity to be connected. Phil handed Diane the same cord he’d given her at least a half dozen times. The routine was simple now that they’d figured out Diane’s employer’s pattern.

He gave instructions, with specifics on what was to be texted and when. The messages were being sent from every two to every five days. After the instructions, she would be told where to buy a phone. It wasn’t to be bought until the morning of the text. Then after the text was sent, the phone was to be disposed of. Roughly ten minutes later, he’d call.

What Phil and Taylor wanted Diane to do was to keep this man on the line long enough to trace his location. The data they received would be stored within their phones, and then once they were connected to the laptops in their hotel suite, the search would commence.

As it was, they had him traced to Austria, south of Salzburg. Unfortunately, the elevations and terrain didn’t aid in their search. Cell towers weren’t nicely spaced as they would be in New York or Los Angeles. Instead, his call came from a satellite phone, its signal pinging off of reflectors currently in a heavenly orbit.

That was why they hadn’t been able to track him more precisely. Each call, each additional minute Diane kept him talking, helped their cause.

“...I understand. How will I...?” she spoke with her head down, keeping the wind away from the transmitter. “Milan? As in Italy? No, I don’t know another...”

Phil shook his head at his wife.

Taylor agreed. They’d been on this wild-goose chase for too long as it was. ‘Mr. Sawyer’ had it appear as though Natalie was traveling all over the European continent. According to the text messages and emails—which began to arrive a few days after her disappearance—she was.

At first the Roaches and Rawlings wanted to believe that the emails were actually from Natalie. Her credit cards showed activity in the areas where she claimed to be visiting. It wasn’t until they located Diane that they learned that she had the credit cards in her possession.

Though Diane didn’t know anything about the emails, they always originated from her location. It wasn’t a difficult trick. With a VPN (Virtual Private Network) set up in each location, the origination of the email could easily be disguised. Mr. Rawlings had done the same thing years ago, making Claire’s emails appear to have originated from Atlanta when in fact he had her laptop in Iowa.

Nevertheless, it made logical sense to assume that Natalie was wherever the calls from ‘Mr. Sawyer’ were originating. It was also the content of Natalie’s responses to very specific questions that gave them all hope. She was the only one who would know the particular information she replied. It was too random to be common knowledge.

Taylor and Phil had a decent description of the man orchestrating this charade. They’d seen him on the grainy photos from the airport in Munich. He was tall, blonde, and according to his passport, twenty-six years of age. It took much longer than they wanted, but eventually it was discovered that they entered Munich as Jonas D. and Nellie Smithers.

They were currently gathering as much information as they could on Jonas D. Smithers. However, since Natalie’s name wasn’t Nellie, there was the possibility that Jonas wasn’t his.

“...yes, sir. I promise. My sister...” Diane’s voice cracked. “The doctors say if she gets the needed treatment... Yes... Thank you.” She nodded. “Goodbye.”

Diane looked up at the Roaches. “He always does that. Just like you do.”

“What?” Taylor asked, though she suspected that she knew.

“Asks about Jenny.” Tears filled her eyes. “That’s why I agreed to this—she is why.”

Taylor nodded supportively. “We know. That’s why we’re letting you help us. It will help her.”

“But I can’t...I can’t keep traveling all over. She’s home in Minnesota.” Immediately her eyes opened. “Shit. I shouldn’t have said—”

“Diane, we know your sister is at Mayo. Knowing things and learning things is what we do. Our employer is ensuring that her bills are paid—for now. He’s making sure she is safe. Now you have to help us do the same for Natalie.”

Diane sniffled her tears as she unplugged her phone from theirs. “I hope this helps you. I have to go to Italy.”

“We do,” Taylor said.

When Diane looked up, she smiled. “I guess this is better than traveling alone. I know that technically I’m alone.”

“You help us,” Phil said, “and we’ll help you.”

She nodded and handed Phil the piece of paper she’d jotted notes on while speaking to Mr. Sawyer.

He took a photo of the notes.

“Five days this time,” he said with more than a hint of audible disappointment.

Taylor shook her head. “Are you making that call, or am I?”

“I guess it will be me.”

Taylor was relieved. She knew Phil felt the same way, but it was hard to continually give the Rawlings incomplete reports. This man—Mr. Sawyer or Smithers—was good. Whatever he was doing, it was clear that this wasn’t random. He’d had it planned, all the way to his remote location.

Phil handed Diane the third phone she’d held in less than an hour. “Get rid of the last one. Just like always, our numbers are in there. Don’t call anyone else on this phone. If anything changes, happens, or you need help, call us. And when you get your reservations, text all the information. We’ll arrive in Italy at the same time.”

She looked up at them. “Will you please tell her parents that I’m sorry? I didn’t know. I wish I would have done this all differently.”

“Yes,” Taylor said. Sensing that Diane needed a friend, she reached out her hand. “You’re helping now. Just don’t stop.”

“Okay.”