Fatal Secrets. Barbara Phinney
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one lead has dissolved. What was next for him? Would he move on?
She watched Zane’s clean profile, his straight nose and strong chin. His dark hair fell into his eyes slightly, and his brooding good looks and casual clothes seemed to fit well on the campus around them. The hurt in his expression, however, did not.
Suddenly, she didn’t want him to move out of the area to continue his search somewhere else. But she had to ask, “What’s next in your search?”
He slid his gaze sideways across the car’s front seats to her. “I don’t know. That guy on the phone was following my strongest lead, but it didn’t pan out.”
Her heart swelled in sympathy. They were both searching. In a way, she’d found a kindred spirit. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’ve built a good business here, and searching for my brother is something I do when I have the time. I have even less information on him than you have on your mother so I always knew I may never find him.”
“So you’re back to square one now?”
“I have one much weaker lead out there, but am not expecting anything to come of it.”
He watched her, as if, she wondered, he was also looking for understanding. Her heart lurched. He was hurting, too. He was struggling to find a connection with his past. And like her, he may never find his family.
“Let’s get some lunch. My treat,” she suggested to break the melancholy settling over them. “There’s a new restaurant downtown that has great Mexican food. If you like, you can tell me what you know about your brother. I’m no expert, but maybe you just need a fresh eye?”
He frowned at her and she tried a small, hopeful smile. She didn’t feel like smiling, and yet, sticking with Zane brought a strange measure of comfort that made smiling that much easier. Besides, after that push into traffic, she didn’t feel like being alone.
“Why don’t we talk about you instead, Kristin?” he answered. “My search for my brother can wait, but yours can’t. No one wants to kill me for it, but you are definitely in danger because of your search.”
“Do you really think it’s related to my mother?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences, and they’re piling up here. Your mother is in hiding, and right after you attend a related trial, you’re in danger, as well?”
“I don’t know anything, so there’s no reason to kill me.”
“I’m not saying you do know anything, but someone could be mistaking you for your mother. Do you look like her?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen one photo of her and I don’t have it. It’s hard to see a resemblance to yourself, I think.”
Of course, she knew of another photo on its way to her. Zane may be able to confirm a resemblance.
Zane glanced around the parking lot, before zeroing in on her. “You want me to take on your case, but it’s obvious that you’re holding some things back. And the look on your face after you received that phone call this morning told me you didn’t know what to do. Were you warned about me?”
“No! Well, not exactly.” Boy, he was good. He was able to read her like a book. Should she tell him anything? Jackson had warned her of a leak. Anyone, including Zane, could use what they’d learn from her to find her mother, or inform the Mob, she wagered. How could she know for sure that he wouldn’t tell the Martino family?
But what could Zane learn from her? She didn’t have anything but a name, an old address from a foster home her mother had lived in, where that other photo had been taken, and very little else. She doubted her mother would use her real name and she certainly wouldn’t contact her old foster home again. Kristin only wanted the photo because it was of her mother and had been offered to her.
Zane tilted his head. “I can help you find your mother. So why won’t you tell me anything?”
If she found her mother, she reasoned to herself, she could warn her about the Martinos, about what Jackson had said. They could hide together, taking that time to get to know each other again. It would be so wonderful, and everything she’d dreamed of since her friend Jake had opened her father’s safe and she’d found the adoption papers.
She swallowed. “I’ve been told to be very careful.”
“Because of the Martino family? Why did you go to the trial then?”
“I had to see the man whose father had caused my mother to hide. But no one recognized me. I lightened my hair, and wore tinted glasses. And due to the security, those allowed into the courtroom were escorted in and out through a side door, and protected from the public.”
“But afterward, you came straight back here?”
“No.” She shook her head, understanding what he meant. “Jackson McGraw advised against that. After the trial, I wanted to thank one of the witnesses for the prosecution. He took me to the FBI building in the city. I talked to her there.”
“Who was she?”
“Olivia Jarrod. She was the star witness in that trial.”
“What did she say?”
“To me? Not much. I just thanked her for doing her best to get rid of the Martino family. Then I told her that I’d been separated from my mother for about twenty-one years and she said she hoped I would find my mother someday. The conversation didn’t last long. She didn’t want to stick around, and I didn’t, either.”
“So then you came straight home?”
She shook her head. “Jackson and I decided that I should take a flight to Maine to spend some time with a college friend. So I did. We climbed Mount Katahdin. Then we toured the East Coast for a week. After that, I returned here.”
Her tone changed as she drilled a stare into him. They were sitting in his car. Around them, the campus had gone quiet. “Please, Zane, I can’t tell you much, because I don’t know much.”
Zane’s look darkened, as if he disagreed with her. But thankfully, he said nothing. She continued, faster than before. “But I need to find my mother. Let’s have some lunch. We’ll talk there.”
She hadn’t really expected Zane to agree, but he did, asking for the name of the restaurant. A swell of accomplishment filled her. He was willing to talk to her, perhaps to engender trust, or perhaps because he needed to talk, maybe about his own fruitless search. She didn’t care about the reason. Suddenly, being with him warmed her, gave her a sense of connection.
At the restaurant, they found a booth in the back and ordered the daily special of quesadillas. After scribbling out their order, the waitress plunked down a large bowl of nacho chips and salsa. Kristin dug in. Catching Zane’s eye, she shrugged. “I’m hungry. And when I’m stressed, I eat. I’m not one to starve myself, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t apologize. I think it’s normal.” He grimaced. “You may be a bit naïve, but at least you’re not the thin, high-strung sort.”
She lifted her eyebrows, wondering who was like that in his life that brought such a derisive comment. “There’s a compliment in there, I’m sure. I just can’t see it right now.”
She picked up another chip and munched on it. At least he was talking. The stress of the call he’d made seemed to be wearing him down, loosening the cool grit that held him tightly together.
“It is a compliment. And you’re honest about it.” He tightened his jaw. “Believe me, I appreciate honesty.”
Why shouldn’t he? She stemmed her curiosity by changing the subject. “My church loves to eat. We’ll use any excuse for a potluck lunch. No thin, high-strung ladies there.” She pointed a corn chip at him. “You should come. There’ll be snacks after the service this week.”
Her