“Was Rachel Stevens adopted?” she asked.
Fletcher tossed his hands in the air. “There’s been no mention of it. There are pictures of Claire Stevens holding an infant on the mantel in their house, I know that.”
“Someone needs to check. The pictures of Rachel I’ve seen bear more than a passing resemblance. The timing is right. Rachel just turned ten. Kaylie said she had her child when she was twelve or thirteen, and she’s twenty-two now. If she’s telling the truth about them selling babies, it’s possible that Rachel is her daughter. And they’re using her to draw Kaylie back to the cult.”
“More than possible, damn it,” Fletcher said. “I’ll make sure someone investigates whether Rachel is adopted or not. That information would have helped before now.” He flipped the paper over in his hands, looked at the note again.
“Hold on. Give me that back.” Sam snatched the note from his hand and turned it over. She realized the paper Kaylie had written on was from one of the encyclopedias she had on the bookshelf, a remnant left over from her life in Nashville. When she was pregnant with the twins, she and Simon had purchased a set of Encyclopedia Britannica in the hopes of giving Matthew and Madeline an actual paper snapshot of the world, rather than allowing them to rely solely on the internet.
Of course, they’d never grown old enough to read, much less study.
She felt her heart start its familiar anguished tattoo, and sternly told it, Not now. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose, then opened her eyes and spread the crumpled paper out against her hand.
Amazing. It worked. Her heartbeat was normal. She was beginning to think she actually had this under control. Either that or she needed to take up boxing.
She looked closely at the paper. Kaylie had ripped a page from the V volume—specifically, the map of northern Virginia. Sam ran her finger along the page, went over to the bedside lamp to get the most light on it she could. There was something...she held it to the light and saw a pinhole in the paper.
“I will be damned. She’s left us a way to find Rachel.”
“How?” Fletcher asked.
Sam brought it to him, held the paper up to the overhead light so he could see it. “There’s a hole, right here, out near Great Falls. That must be where they are. That must be where Eden is keeping Rachel.”
“Or she stabbed the pen through the page writing her little love note. Come on, Sam. That’s a reach.”
“So you’re telling me she just chose this page at random? The book was on the bottom shelf. If she just needed a piece of paper, why didn’t she use the pad next to the bed, or get one from my office down the hall? No, she chose this page purposefully.”
“Great Falls wasn’t on any of the maps she showed Baldwin,” Xander said.
Sam looked at him, saw the worry and exhaustion etched across his face. “This means something, Xander. I’m sure of it.”
He was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Fletch, can we get a topographical map of this area, and a list of property owners?”
Fletcher already had his cell phone out and was dialing. “I’m on it. Right after I put out a BOLO on Kaylie. What was she wearing? Describe her to me.”
Sam conjured a mental image of the girl. “Light green cargo pants, red T-shirt with Munich on it in white letters, brown military-style combat boots. Her hair is shoulder length, strawberry blond, obviously, and she had it in a ponytail. She’s tan, from being outside, but freckled, too. My build, but maybe an inch or two taller than me.”
Xander said, “I make her at five-eight and one-twenty soaking wet.”
Sam gave him a smile. Leave it to Xander to have the specifics.
“She didn’t steal anything, did she?” Fletcher asked.
“No. Surely not,” Sam said.
“Better check,” he said. And then into the phone, “Jordan, hey. We need a BOLO on Kaylie Rousch. She just attacked Dr. Owens. Label her armed and dangerous. Last seen in Georgetown, wearing—”
Sam walked down the hall to her bedroom. She hoped Kaylie hadn’t stolen from them.
She was wrong.
Her bedroom was a shambles, the closet open and clothes strewn everywhere.
She called, “Fletch! Hold up. She might not be wearing the same clothes.”
God, what an idiot she was thinking this stranger could be trusted. Maybe she wasn’t even Kaylie Rousch; they hadn’t done a DNA test at the door, just took her at her word. How dumb of them. She’d already broken into the house. Why not devolve into stealing from them, as well?
Thor followed her into the room, his nails clicking gently on the hardwood. “Some guard dog you are,” she said, and she could have sworn he hung his head in shame. “Oh, no, don’t you do that. Komm!” He came to her immediately and she bent to scratch his ears. He licked at the bandage on her throat.