Chapter Eighteen
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As Grant parked his rental car on the street beneath a large maple tree, he glanced into the rearview mirror in time to spot another car pull onto a side street. He scanned the area in front of the car and nodded when he saw a brunette jogging toward them. Marc and Alethea were not as stealthy as they liked to believe, not if one paid attention to their patterns of behavior. Confirming their presence lessened Grant’s concern about bringing Viviana with him. He wanted her to be part of this, but he didn’t want to put her in danger, and no one knew what Pamela Thompson’s reaction would be to their questions.
“My father just texted me. He said you’re a genius and thank you,” Viviana said. “He also said next time don’t give anything that important to Dylan and Connor. They forgot to give the folder to him. He found it in the living room when he went back to check on our house.”
Grant laughed. “I was wondering why he hadn’t said anything.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for taking care of my family in a way that leaves them with their pride. It would have been easy for you to throw money at them, but they would have felt you thought you were better than them. My dad says you’re a keeper, and he’s never liked anyone I’ve dated.”
Grant’s heart pounded. She understands.
“So, are we doing good cop/bad cop?” she asked quickly in an excited tone. “Can I be the bad cop?”
With her expertise with colorful expletives, he was sure she could nail that role, but he preferred a more subtle approach. “She’s not a criminal, at least not as far as we know. She may have feared for her life when she fled. We can’t scare her. I don’t want to chance her running again before we know what she knows.”
“Gotcha. Good cop/good cop.”
“Or no cop. We’re just people asking questions.”
Hand in hand they walked up onto the wrap-around porch of a small brick home. It was nicely kept, but modest. Grant knocked on the door.
Barking ensued, followed by a woman hushing them and telling one to lie down. A moment later, a flustered brunette with a wild amount of curls and a bright smile opened the door. She looked about the age Pamela Thompson was said to be: 55. “You’re early,” she said in a rush, “but I’m glad you brought your husband. Wait until you see them. It breaks my heart to part with them, but I didn’t even want one dog—I certainly can’t have five.”
“No, of course not,” Viviana said smoothly. “We’ve been shopping around and talking to so many people lately that everyone’s stories have blended into one in my head. Where did they come from again?”
And just like that, Pamela led them into the house and invited them to have a seat on her couch. A black, long-haired female retriever ambled over to them and laid her head on Grant’s knee. He petted it absently and let Viviana take the lead.
“It’s a long story. Would you like a glass of water?”
Both Viviana and Grant said they would. Once they were all seated in the living room, the woman said, “Opal is a flat-coated retriever. She came to me when my neighbors decided to move closer to their grandchildren. They didn’t tell me she was pregnant so I don’t know who the father was, but if you’re willing to take a chance on them, I can’t imagine sweeter puppies. She’s a love, and I’m sure they will be, too. Would you each like to hold one?”
“That’s not—” Grant started to say.
“We would love to,” Viviana spoke over him.
The woman returned with two squirming black puppies. One was all black, the other had a stripe of white down its nose and belly. She handed one to each of them. Grant’s only experience with dogs had been Kenzi’s rescue. He wasn’t prepared for the amount of slobber and kisses that one small animal could deliver. He would have put it down, but at least to start with, it was important to appear interested. “This is a lively one,” he tried to sound pleased.
Viviana was cuddling hers, and it looked ready to fall asleep. Sure, she gets the quiet one.
“So, have you lived in Bright long? We’re in an apartment now, but we’re looking to buy a home,” Grant said.
The woman looked concerned. “I’ve been here almost thirty years. Make sure a puppy is okay with your landlord before you decide on one. I’d hate for you to have to bring it back.” She smiled as if reminiscing. “Everything changes once you take them home and fall in love with them.”
“Oh, we’ve already cleared it with the landlord.”
“That’s good,” the woman said with relief.
“Thirty years,” Grant said, “and yet I hear a slight accent. You’re not native to Australia, are you? Where were you originally from?”
The woman’s smile faded. “So, the female is the runt of the litter and the one your husband is holding should be one of the largest. If you’re looking for an active dog, I’d choose the male. If you want one that will lie at your feet, I’d choose the female.”
Grant exchanged a look with Viviana and made a decision. “We’re not actually here about the puppies.”
The woman’s eyes widened and she stood. “Then what are you here for?”
Viviana continued to cuddle the puppy to her. “We’re hoping you could help us find someone or find out what happened to him.”
The woman clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m always willing to help out when I can. Who are you looking for?”
Grant put the squirming puppy down by his feet. “You are Pamela Thompson, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“Was your maiden name Thorsen?”
She shook her head. “What is this about? Who are you?”
Grant stood. “We know most of the story already, we’re looking for you to fill in what we don’t. You can either talk to us or the authorities we’ll send here. One way or another, we’ll get the answers we came for.”
Pale, and with shaking hands, the woman picked up the puppy and returned it to a small pen then held out her hands to take the puppy back from Viviana. “I have no idea what you think I might know, but you should go now.”
Viviana handed her the puppy, but held onto it a moment after the woman accepted it. “No one thinks you were involved. We think you might have seen or heard something. That’s all. We don’t want to disrupt your life here or put you in any danger, but if you know something . . . please.”
The woman placed the second puppy back in the pen and walked to the door. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I will call the police if you don’t leave now.”
“Would you? Would you risk it? I don’t think so,” Grant said in a low tone.
Viviana tugged on his arm and shook her head. “She’s scared. That won’t work,” she whispered.
“Get out of my house—now,” the woman said as she reached for her phone. “Or I most certainly will have you arrested for trespassing.” She paused then said, “I wish I could help you, but I can’t. Sorry.”
Viviana frowned then said, “Grant, can I see your phone?”
He handed it to her without hesitation.
Viviana flipped through his photos until she came across a photo of his family. She held it out so the woman could see it. “We’re not the only ones looking for this person. Do you see the parents in this photo? They were told their son died during childbirth thirty years ago at a clinic in Aruba where you and your brother worked. Sophie Barrington has mourned the loss of that son for thirty years, but she just found out the baby she buried wasn’t hers. Can you imagine how that is tearing her apart? The guilt? Worse—the hope that he might still be alive somewhere. She never forgot him. None of his siblings ever forgot him.” She touched Grant’s arm. “All Grant wants is to find out what happened to his brother so he can give his mother the comfort of the truth—the peace that one only finds in closure. You’re our only lead, our only hope of finding out what happened to Kent Barrington.”
A large older man walked into the room. “So are you taking one puppy or three?” he joked. When the room remained silent and still all humor left his face. “Pam, is everything okay?”
Pam raised a shaking hand to her mouth. “No.”
The man moved to stand protectively in front of Pamela. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but either start explaining or get the hell out of my house.”
Pamela covered her stomach with her other arm as if she were about to get sick. Grant watched both expressions carefully. She doesn’t want him to know what we’re doing here.
He doesn’t know.
Grant guessed at their relationship and followed his instincts on how to salvage a chance to speak to Pamela more. “We were undecided if we wanted a dog from a shelter, and my fiancée may have accidently offended your wife by saying she doesn’t approve of private breeders. I’m sure it’s the kind of misunderstanding we can put behind us. We know now that your wife has what we’re looking for.”
Pamela shook her head. “I don’t. Please, just go.”
Grant squared his shoulders. “Even if we leave now, we’ll be back.”
“I don’t like the way you’re talking to my wife,” the man said, rising to his full height.
“Please,” Viviana said, flipping to another photo. “This is Kenzi Barrington. She’s happily married, but she is plagued by questions about what happened to her twin. She believes he’s still alive. Imagine her pain. Anything you know could help ease it. Even if it’s something so horrible you don’t want to remember, please remember just this one last time so she can finally have her answers.”
Pamela kept hugging herself and shaking her head. Her husband put his arm around her. “What is this about, Pam? What are they talking about?”
“I think it has something to do with Neil, but I don’t know anything. He ran with a tough crowd. Maybe he got mixed up in something, but he wouldn’t have told me about it.”
The man nodded and hugged his wife. “She’s telling you the truth. Her brother was a gambler, and when he owed money he didn’t care how he got it. Eventually that got him killed. It’s not something we like to talk about, but if he somehow hurt someone you knew, all we can offer you is our sympathy. You’ll never meet a more soft-hearted woman than my wife. If she knew anything, if she thought she could help you, she would.”
Disappointment swept through Grant. Her brother might have known something, but he was dead. She didn’t seem to know anything. This was another dead end.
Viviana saw Grant’s shoulders slump, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Pamela’s reaction was too strong, too scared. She had to know something so horrible she had never even told her husband—something she wanted to keep a secret from him even thirty years later. What would keep a thirty-year-old crime that fresh? “You know where he is, don’t you, Pamela? He’s not dead, is he? Kent Barrington is alive.”
Tears filled Pamela’s eyes.
“What is she talking about, Pam? I know everyone you know, and we don’t know any Barringtons.”
A tear slid down Pamela’s cheek. “Could I see those photos?” she asked.
Viviana handed her the phone.
Pamela swiped through the family album. “My brother never told me his name. He came to my house after the deed was done. There was nothing I could do. Neil said anyone who knew anything was in danger. He told me to hide, and if he didn’t meet me at the library the next morning he told me to run.” Pamela looked up at her husband and said, “I didn’t come here to escape an abusive ex-boyfriend. I came because if I stayed in Aruba whoever killed Neil was going to kill me, too.”
“Oh, my God,” her husband said. “Why did you lie?”
“I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do or if telling you the truth would get you killed, too. So I lied. You took me in. You made me feel safe. We were happy. I don’t know. I guess I started to believe my lie because the truth was terrifying.”
Her husband continued to hold her, but he was obviously struggling to accept that he didn’t know his wife as well as he’d thought. “Do you know where this Kent Barrington is? If you do, tell them. I don’t know what Neil did, but you need to help set it right.”
Pamela looked down at the phone again. “He has his sister’s eyes and his father’s smile.”
“What are you saying?” her husband demanded, shaking her.
Grant stood absolutely still, letting the scene play out. Viviana held her breath, afraid to do or say anything that would close the door to the truth.
Pamela walked over to a bureau and took an album out. She flipped it open, hugging it to her chest while running her hands over the photos in it. “Neil was paid to kill the baby, but he couldn’t do it, so he brought the baby to me. I wanted him to take it back. All I could think about was how frantic his parents must be. Neil said we couldn’t. He said there was a price on the child’s head. If he didn’t kill it, someone else would. I thought the baby belonged to a member of a gang or the Mafia. When I was on my way to the airport, the taxi driver told me there had been an accident and several people on the island had died. I knew I had to take the baby with me but I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I came to you, Dave. I took a chance that you might still have feelings for me and you did. If I had known he had a family who was looking for him, a family who could keep him safe, I would have said something. But I was so afraid that if I ever went looking for answers, whoever killed my brother would kill him too. And maybe me and even you, Dave. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Kade is the man they’re looking for?” Dave asked.
She handed the album to Viviana. “I think so. He looks like them.”
Viviana flipped through the album with Grant. She was about to ask him what he thought when she saw his eyes tear up. He wrapped an arm around Viv and hugged her tightly. “We found him, Viv.” Then he tensed and looked up. “Tell me he’s still alive.”
Pamela sank into a chair. Dave hovered around her, looking lost as far as what to do. “He’s very much alive. Dave legally adopted him when he was still an infant. He doesn’t know. Oh, my God, we’ll have to tell him.”
“Call him now,” Grant said in a cold tone. “We’re not leaving without him.”
Viviana saw horror fill Pamela’s eyes. “You can’t just throw this at him. He’s my son. I’m the only mother he’s ever known. I don’t know what this will do to him.”
Dave laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “He has a right to know.”
She looked up at him with fresh tears filling her eyes. “Do you hate me? Will he? I fell in love with you and him and the life we made together. I wouldn’t have lied to you if there was any other way.”
“I want to believe that,” Dave said with a sad smile.
With her heart breaking for everyone in the room, Viviana said, “Her version matches everything we know about what happened. Her brother was murdered. Anyone who had anything to do with taking Kent and switching him with another baby died within a short time.” Viviana went to kneel in front of the broken woman. “You were right to run, right to hide. They would have killed you and Kent. Everything supports your fears. No one will hate you once they understand. You more than loved Kent, you saved him. He’ll see that. Everyone will—even if they don’t at first.”
Dave remained still and silent.
Still holding the album, Grant crossed over and helped Viviana back to her feet. “I have to tell my family today. My mother has suffered too long over this. And as soon as my family knows Kent is here, they will come. You have a little over twenty-four hours to tell him or he’ll find out from us.” He met Dave’s eyes. “I don’t know how much of this story is true, but I do know how this will play out. If you run, I will find you. If you were anything but good to my brother or had anything to do with what happened to him, I will kill you. I assure you, whoever you thought might come for you would have given you a kinder, quicker death than I’ll dole out if I discover a reason you deserve it. And, no, in case you’re wondering, we’re not here alone.”
Viviana searched Grant’s face for a hint that he was bluffing, but his cold eyes sent a shiver down her spine. Knowing the story as she did, she wasn’t sure she could blame him, but she did send up a prayer that Pamela was not lying. She took his hand in hers and gave him a tug toward the door. “We’re going to go now, but we’ll be back tomorrow morning. Could you have Kent meet us here?”
Dave said, “His name is Kade. It’s the only name he’s ever known, but yes, we’ll have him here tomorrow morning.”
Pamela started to sob into her hands as Grant and Viviana exited the home. Grant looked calm but he was clutching the album so tightly his knuckles were white.
Viviana waited until they were in the car before she said, “You did it, Grant. You found Kent.”
As he lowered his guard, he let his shock show. “We did it, Viv. You and me. I don’t know if I will really believe it, though, until I see him. I wanted to demand to meet him right now, but if he has no idea he was adopted, maybe he needs to hear that part first from someone he trusts.”
There he was, the man she loved with all her heart. A man who could put the needs of another before his own even in a situation where it must be tearing him apart.
“Do we call him Kade or Kent?” Grant asked.
“I don’t know,” Viviana said, taking his hand in hers again. “Maybe we let him decide.”
“We have to tell the family. Holy shit, they’re going to lose their minds.”
“I have an idea,” Viviana said when she realized she was still in possession of his phone. “Do you trust me?”
“One hundred percent.”
She dialed Kenzi’s husband, Dax, first and asked him to stay on hold while she merged the call. She scrolled through his contacts and one at a time added Emily, Willa, Helene, and Dale. Once they were all on the line Viviana said, “Grant and I need your help.”
“With what?” Dax demanded.
“Anything,” Emily said and the rest chimed in their agreement.
“We found Kent, and he’s alive,” Grant said.
“Oh, my God,” Dale said.
“Where?” Dax barked.
“Bright, Australia. We’re going to meet him for the first time tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure it’s him?” Dale asked.
“He looks just like us, Dad. I’ll send you photos of him. Once you see them you won’t have any doubt.”
“What do you need us to do?” Willa asked.
Viviana and Grant exchanged a look. She didn’t need to tell him why she’d chosen who she had. He agreed. “This isn’t something I could tell Mom and my siblings over the phone. You have all brought love and sanity to our family. I hate to put this on you, but could you tell everyone for us. They’ll have questions that we can’t answer yet, but get them on a plane and get them here; we’ll figure this out together.” He laced his hand with Viviana’s. “Oh, and Viviana and I are engaged. Work that in however you feel is best.”
“Welcome to the family,” Dax said. “We need you.”
Helene asked, “Who should tell Ian?”
“I will,” Dale said. “I’ll tell him.”
“Okay,” Grant said. “Thank you. Viviana and I are here if you need to talk more about it tonight.”
Dale cleared his throat. “Grant.”
“Yes, Dad?”
“I knew the moment you agreed to find Stiles you would bring us the answers. I never dared dream that you’d find Kent alive, but I don’t doubt that you did. You have always been capable of doing the impossible when you set your mind to it. This time you achieved a miracle. Nothing short of a miracle. Thank you, Son.”
Grant’s eyes misted up, but he sounded composed. “You’re welcome, Dad. It’s not going to be easy, since Kent doesn’t know us or even that he was stolen from us.” He briefly outlined what Pamela had said had happened. “If she seems scared when you meet her, I did threaten her with a slow and painful death if I found out she was still lying.”
“Let’s hope she’s not,” Dax said. “Emily, do you want anyone to be there when you tell Asher?”
Emily sighed. “No. He’ll run around like a chicken with his head cut off, but I’ll hand him Joey, and that’ll calm him down.”
“And Andrew?” Dax asked.
“My parents are in town,” Helene answered. “He gets along really well with my dad. He’ll be fine.”
“And Mom?” Grant asked. “I would be there if I could be.”
“I’ll tell her when we’re alone,” Dale said, “but then she’ll want everyone there. How about a family meeting at our house first for dinner tonight?”
One by one they agreed then signed off.
Alone again in the car, Grant paused before starting the engine. “I might not have come here if you hadn’t pushed me to.”
She laid a hand on his chest and said, “Yes, you would have, because in here there is more than love, there is also a hero. My hero.”