*
At Nashville International, they badge the Southwest counter agents and get a gate pass. TSA doesn’t put up too much of a fuss, but they do a pat-down of them both, to make sure the Nashville cops are well and truly aware who holds the power in this relationship. The manager on duty escorts them to C15, where the Denver flight is getting ready to board.
Zack Armstrong sits in a chair by the window, currents of energy coming off him like a strobe light, the elegant dog at his feet, her head up, watching, a small black badge attached to her harness that reads Service Dog in red stitching. Simple, straightforward. If this doesn’t discourage a casual approach, the very large man sitting next to the dog who is supposed to be an English professor but instead looks like a trained operative will deter even the most curious people.
Except for the pretty woman with dark blonde hair who is talking animatedly to him, a cell phone held out for Armstrong to see. He is entranced by whatever she is showing him.
With a predator’s natural ability, when Parks and Starr are ten feet away, Armstrong senses them coming and stands up. The dog’s ears flick forward, but she doesn’t move. The young woman—and she is young, Parks realizes, younger even than Starr—stands as well, warier now. She holds out a hand.
“Dr. Juliet Ryder, CBI.”
“Sergeant Bob Parks, Detective Brianna Starr, Metro Homicide.”
Pleasantries exchanged, Zack takes control of the meeting.
“We don’t have much time, so cards on the table. Juliet found Violet. Her name is Mindy Wright now, and she’s a skier. She’s also very, very ill. Leukemia, a rare form they found during the surgery on a broken leg she sustained—”
“In a crash at a World Cup event in Vail.” Parks nods. “Yeah, as of yesterday, I know all about Mindy Wright. Gorman had a note in the file—it only said Colorado. But he met Mindy the week he died. He was out there on vacation, but I think he was checking into the case.”
“Bad luck he died,” Zack says. “Do you have anything but gut to go on here? Seems more like a coincidence.”
“There is no such thing as coincidence when you’re dealing with homicide. My Spidey senses are all tingly. Something feels wrong about all this. Gorman was a good detective, solid and straightforward. He didn’t tell anyone about a possible lead, so far as we know. But the timing is strange. He finally finds Violet, then dies before he can tell anyone?”
“How did he die?” Armstrong asks. “I know you’re protecting the family’s privacy—”
“He skied off a cliff. From what I can tell, within a day of meeting Mindy at an event.”
“Accidents happen all the time,” Ryder says, and it’s not an unfeeling statement.
“Dr. Ryder, can you fill us in? How did you come to be here?”
“Sure. My sister, Lauren, adopted Mindy when she was only days old, but we—the family—didn’t know that until a couple of days ago. Lauren never told us. She met her husband, Jasper, right after Mindy’s birth but didn’t tell him, either. None of us knew that Mindy wasn’t her biological child.”
“Big shock,” Starr says.
“You have no idea.”
“Why did it come out now?”
“Mindy needs a stem cell transplant, and none of us are matches. I mean, not even close genetically, which was the big clue. When we found out, Lauren admitted to us Mindy was adopted, and who she got her from. We found out the doctor in Denver was illegally selling babies. How Mindy ended up in Colorado is beyond me, I haven’t had a chance to investigate any further yet. I stumbled across Zack’s case yesterday, saw the pictures, tested Mindy’s blood against the CODIS entry for Vivian, and found the match. I hopped on a plane immediately to see if Zack would be willing to come back and be tested. He might be able to save her life.”
“Why didn’t you just call?” Starr asks.
“I wanted to see him in person. This is the kind of news that should be shared gently. I also needed to beg for blood to run to see if Zack is a stem cell match. Two things at play here—reuniting a family, yes, but saving a life, too.”
Parks runs his thumb and forefinger over his mustache. It helps him think. “And solving a murder. She’s that ill?”
Ryder nods. “She’s very sick and getting worse. That’s why we’re moving so quickly. I know it’s quite unorthodox, and this is going to be a complex investigation into how Dr. Castillo, who’s dead, by the way, could have procured the infant and passed her along.” She swallows, and suddenly there are tears in her eyes. “But this might be our only chance to save Mindy’s life. Now that Zack knows where his daughter is, it’s Mindy first, investigation second.”
The gate agent calls for the passengers to line up to board. Parks’s time is running out. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You handle your end, run Armstrong’s blood, and see if he can donate to your niece. Starr or myself are on a flight to Denver tomorrow. We’re happy to work with you, or any of your colleagues, but we’re going to have to be a part of the investigation.”
“Absolutely. More’s the merrier.” Ryder holds out her phone. “Put your number in, and the minute I have a confirmation, you’ll be my second call.”
“I want to be your first.”
“Sorry. The first goes to Mindy’s doctor, to get Zack in line to do the transplant.”
Another boarding call comes. They all look toward the gate.
“We have to go,” Armstrong says, taking the dog’s lead and shouldering his backpack. “We’ll be in touch, Sergeant. I promise. I want to solve Vivian’s murder as much as you do.”
Parks watches until they disappear into the plane, a growing sense of unease knotting his stomach. Starr stands next to him, on her phone, checking flights.
“There’s another flight this evening, then four nonstops tomorrow. What do you want to do?”
“Honestly? I want to get on this plane so I don’t lose sight of Armstrong, and get out to Colorado immediately. But tomorrow will be soon enough. We need to get our ducks in a row before we jet off. And who knows? The DNA match was to Vivian, right? Once they get down to it, Armstrong might not be a match.”
“You don’t believe that for a second, do you?”
He shakes his head. “I believe the world is an interesting place, Starr. As for the rest, we’ll see.”
43
THE WRIGHTS’ HOUSE
Lauren is falling asleep in her living room chair when a text dings on her phone. It’s Juliet, with news.
I found Armstrong. We’ll be in Vail late tonight. Can we meet you at the house?
Panic surges through her like a flame. She is scared to death—everything that happens from here on out will have severe consequences.
Mindy is asleep in her room. When Lauren checked her last, she realized how diminished her little girl is, frail and pale under the bedclothes. The temporary excitement of the news—the hope—has worn her out, and Lauren thinks she’s slipped even further. She has a sudden urge to paint, to capture an image of her sleeping daughter. She’ll title it, A Sleep Before Death.
God, Lauren. Morbid much?
How is Mindy going to handle all of this? They have to tell her what’s happening, they owe her that much, but if Armstrong isn’t a match, then what happens?
The idea of losing her daughter kills her. It absolutely kills her.