Deceived Read online

  Connor frowned and turned his pen end to end on the desk, evaluating the unexpected opportunity and toying with an idea. If Diane could pull it off, it would expedite their case.

  “Does your offer to help us still stand?”

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation in her response—a positive sign. “Why?”

  “We need a DNA sample from Todd. That’s the best way to establish a credible connection between him and Kate. Once we have that link, law enforcement will step in. We’ve been waiting for an opportunity to get one, but if you could take care of it for us, that would speed things up.”

  “What kind of sample?” Wariness crept into her tone.

  “A few strands of hair. A dozen, max, and as long as possible. But they’d have to be gathered without arousing the boy’s suspicion to lessen the likelihood he’ll tell Sanders.”

  “That could be a challenge. How were you going to manage it?”

  “Follow them to a salon or go through the trash if he cuts the boy’s hair at home.”

  “But how could I get one without being obvious?”

  Connor swiveled in his chair, toward the picture of him and Joe as teens. The two of them had gotten into several scrapes involving loss of hair during their growing-up years. Like the time Joe had run into the tree with his sled, a stunt that had left him with several stitches and a shaved patch on his scalp. Or their initiation into the neighborhood tree house club that had required them to contribute a lock of hair to the club’s collection. Not to mention the day their mother had intervened moments after ten-year-old Joe began giving him a Mohawk haircut. Then there’d been the day his giant bubble of gum had broken on the back of Joe’s head. His mother had had a bear of a time getting it out of Joe’s hair and had finally resorted to scissors for the gummiest strands.

  That could work.

  He swung back to his desk. “Does Todd like bubble gum?”

  “Bubble gum?” Diane sounded puzzled.

  “Yes.” He relayed the story about his own childhood escapade.

  “Hmm.” Her voice grew thoughtful. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen him chew any—but what kid doesn’t like bubble gum? And I was a world-class bubble-blower in my younger days. I think I can pull this off without arousing suspicion. What should I do with the hair?”

  “Seal it into a ziplock bag. You can call me as soon as you leave the house, and I’ll meet you around the corner so you can hand it over. The key is to make this all seem natural. We don’t want to give Todd any reason to bring it up to Sanders.”

  “I understand. I’ll do my best.”

  For a few seconds, Connor hesitated, debating the downsides of the plan. Worst case, Todd would mention the incident to Sanders. The man would either pass it off as inconsequential and innocent, or his suspicions could be further aroused. But by then they’d have the sample, and within a week the lab would have the analysis. In the meantime, they’d be keeping the man under surveillance. He wasn’t going anywhere without a tail. If they passed up this opportunity, they might have to wait another two or three weeks just to get the sample.

  When the silence lengthened, Diane spoke again. “In case you’re worried, as the wife of an abuser I became very adept at deception in my former life. You learn to say and do whatever you have to in order to keep yourself safe and deflect suspicion—in that case, misplaced. I can do this job for you, now that we have a plan.”

  Her confident tone sealed the deal.

  “I’m sure you can. Call me on my cell as soon as you have the sample.”

  “I will. Talk to you soon.”

  As he weighed the phone in his hand, he debated whether to tell Kate about this latest development. No. Better to wait until he had the sample in hand.

  But once he did, this thing would shift into high gear.

  And by the middle of next week, if everything went as he expected, a long-separated mother and son would be in the midst of an extraordinary reunion.

  “So is Dad hurt bad?”

  As Diane showed her ID to the woman behind the desk at STL Academy and signed out for Todd, she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “No. He cut his arm on a saw and had to get some stitches, but the doctor’s fixing him up right now. As soon as we get to my car, I’ll call his cell and let you talk to him. How does that sound?”

  Todd clutched his daypack and stared up at her, eyes wide as he gave a silent nod.

  The poor kid was scared out of his mind.

  But if everything that PI and Kate had told her was true, the little guy was in for a lot more upheaval.

  Life stunk sometimes—even for innocent kids.

  The woman behind the counter pulled out a booster seat and handed it over. “You or Mr. Sanders can return this tomorrow or the next day.”

  “Thanks.”

  Juggling the seat, Diane took Todd’s hand as they walked toward the parking lot. “Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see. Why don’t we stop on the way to your house and get a soda? Would you like that?”

  “Dad never lets me have soda before dinner.”

  “I think we can make an exception this once.” She opened the back door, secured the booster seat, and helped Todd buckle up. Then she circled the car, slid behind the wheel, and pulled her cell out of her purse.

  Greg answered on the second ring. “Did the daycare place give you any trouble?”

  “No. Your call to them smoothed the way. How’s it going with you?”

  “The urgent care center is a zoo. This must be the day for accidents. I’m estimating another hour at least, maybe more. Sorry to inconvenience you.”

  “No problem. Todd would like to talk to you.”

  “I want to talk to him too. Sorry again to put you out. I’ll be home as fast as I can.”

  “Don’t rush on my account. Todd and I will keep each other entertained.” She handed the phone over the seat. “Here you go.”

  As she backed out of the parking space and headed toward Greg’s house, she listened in on the one-sided conversation.

  “Are you hurt real bad, Dad?”

  Pause.

  “No. She was waiting for me. They even let us borrow a car seat.”

  More silence.

  “Yeah! That will be twice this week! And Diane said we might stop for a soda on the way home too. Can I have soda and a sundae on the same night?”

  Another pause.

  “I love you too, Dad. Bye.”

  Diane’s throat tightened. Their mutual affection was so endearing . . . yet she had only to recall Kate’s tearful comments yesterday about hearing her absent son call to her in the night to know she was doing the right thing. And she’d see it through. This was one thing in her life she wasn’t going to mess up.

  Spotting a 7-Eleven, she spoke over her shoulder. “What kind of soda would you like?”

  “Can I have a Mountain Dew?”

  “Sure.” She swung into the lot and found a spot near the door, eyeing the counter and the soda dispenser beyond it. She could see the car from the store; no need to take Todd in with her. “I’m going to run in real fast. Can you wait here for me?”

  “Yeah. I’ll look at the book about dinosaurs I borrowed from the library at daycare.”

  “Great idea.”

  Exiting the car, she locked the doors and hurried inside. No one was in line, and in less than three minutes she was back with two sodas, a pack of bubble gum tucked in her purse.

  “Here you go.” She stuck a straw in Todd’s cup and handed it over the seat, then put her own Diet Coke in the holder beside her. “So tell me all the fun things that happened today—and the stuff you’ve learned about dinosaurs.”

  He was off and running as she drove to Greg’s house, chattering away as she fed him questions. By the time she pulled up in front of the bungalow, the sodas were gone and Todd’s worry about Greg seemed to have been assuaged.

  “Your dad said you know about a key that’s hidden behind the bush next to the front door?”


  “Yeah.” Todd released his seat belt and pushed the curbside door open as she set the brake. “I’ll get it.”

  Daypack thumping against his back, he dashed toward the bush and dived underneath as she pulled the borrowed booster seat out of the car.

  “Here it is!” He held aloft a small ziplock bag, waving it triumphantly—and reminding her of the real motivation behind her good Samaritan deed.

  Once in the house, Diane disposed of the soda cups, set her purse on the table, and pulled out the pack of gum. “Would you like a piece?”

  Todd gave it a covetous look. “Dad doesn’t let me chew gum very much.”

  “I have a feeling he wouldn’t mind today.” She unwrapped a piece and held out another for him.

  “I guess I could have one piece.”

  As he undid the wrapping, she sat at the kitchen table, working the gum with her teeth. “Do you know how to blow bubbles?”

  “Not very well.”

  “I used to be able to do this. Let’s see how much I remember.”

  As he watched, she positioned the gum with her tongue and managed to blow a midsized bubble.

  “Wow. That was real good.” Todd’s expression was tinged with awe.

  “You try.”

  His inaugural effort produced a small bubble.

  “Not bad.” She coached him through a few more attempts. “You’re doing great. I’ll tell you what . . . why don’t we have a contest for the biggest bubble?”

  “I’ll lose.”

  “You never know.” She stood and took his hand, leading him toward the mirror in the guest bath. “When my friend and I had contests, one of us had to stand on a chair, but since I’m taller, this will work.” She positioned him in front of her and bent down until she was just above his head. “Now we can watch ourselves and each other and judge who has the biggest bubble. Ready . . . set . . . go!”

  Her bubble came out fast and large, as she’d hoped . . . and she lowered her chin as it popped, one scant edge collapsing on his hair.

  “Whoops!” She straightened up as Todd kept blowing, making an impressive-sized bubble.

  A moment later, his burst too.

  “I think you won.” She smiled at him in the mirror.

  “I don’t know. Yours was bigger . . . but it broke faster. I guess it was a tie.”

  “Excellent call. Now let’s see if I can separate my gum from your hair. Why don’t you go get your comb for me?”

  As he took off down the hall, she returned to the kitchen, feeling in the pocket of her skirt to verify the small pair of scissors and ziplock bag she’d slipped inside. Still there.

  “Here it is.” Todd waved the comb as he skidded to a stop beside her.

  “Turn around and let’s have a look.”

  As he complied, she surveyed the damage. Not bad. Her aim had been spot on. Combing through the fine strands, she was able to remove the evidence of their contest. But she pretended to work on a nonexistent tangle.

  “There’s just one spot here . . .” She gave it a slight tug. “Gum and hair don’t mix very well.” Fingering the hair with one hand, she reached into her pocket and withdrew the scissors. “I might have to snip this out.” She cut off a tiny clump close to his scalp and slid her hand back into her pocket, aiming for the bag.

  Done.

  Taking a deep breath, she fiddled around with his hair for another fifteen seconds before handing over the comb. “Good as new. While you put this away, I’ll see what’s in your fridge and get dinner started. After that, why don’t we build that skyscraper with your erector set?”

  “Awesome!”

  As he disappeared through the door, she sealed the ziplock bag and stowed it and the scissors in her purse.

  Then she did a long, slow scan of the kitchen where she’d enjoyed such happy times with Greg and Todd. Where she’d hoped to enjoy many more.

  But if the hair sample she passed on to Connor proved Todd belonged with Kate—and that Greg had never been the man she’d thought he was—the future she’d allowed herself to dream of would end up being nothing more than a sham and an illusion.

  Just as her marriage to Rich had been.

  Except this time she was going to be the victor, not the victim.

  Straightening her shoulders, she crossed to the refrigerator. No matter how this ended, she was going to be okay—even if the worst happened, and the loving father and considerate suitor she’d come to know and care about turned out to be a cold-blooded killer and kidnapper.

  A shiver rippled through her that had nothing to do with the blast of cold air emitted by the freezer.

  It was hard to believe Greg could be capable of those heinous things—yet all the evidence added up. And she should count her blessings she’d learned of his dark side sooner rather than later, leaving her free to walk out of his world in an hour or two and never look back.

  Kate, however, wasn’t so fortunate. She couldn’t walk away, not with her son’s future hanging in the balance. And now that Greg knew about the photo, he had to suspect Kate was trying to track him down. Could that put the woman who’d befriended her in danger?

  As another shudder swept through her, she grabbed a pack of ground beef and slammed the door shut. She didn’t need to add worries about Kate’s safety to all her other problems. If there was any threat, Kate had that smart, handsome PI watching her back. A guy who’d protected world leaders—maybe even the president himself—wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. She’d be fine.

  Wouldn’t she?

  23

  From the depths of her purse, Kate’s cell rang as she maneuvered through the door of her condo with an armload of shopping bags.

  After dumping everything on the kitchen table, she fished it out and greeted her favorite PI.

  “Hi yourself.” The warmth in Connor’s response sent a little tingle through her. “How’d you sleep?”

  “I’ve had more restful nights.” She pulled the box of cherry popsicles from the grocery bag and slid them into the freezer. “How about you?”

  “I’ll plead the fifth. What did you do on your day off?”

  She surveyed the results of her whirlwind shopping expedition. “Let’s just say I’ve been busy.”

  “That’s not what days off are supposed to be all about.”

  “Busy is better than pacing around my condo battling the urge to knock down Sanders’s door and snatch my son. Besides, I had a lot of errands to run. The lab was first on my list.”

  “I know. They called to tell me both tests were already in process. I wanted to let you know I’ve alerted an acquaintance at the local FBI office to expect a case in the next few days.”

  She sank into a chair, fingering the package of baseball-themed sheets she’d purchased for the twin bed that would soon occupy her unfurnished spare bedroom. “How much did you tell him?”

  “Everything.”

  “What did he say?”

  “That he’d bone up on the official background and put everything in place for a fast response once they have proof in hand.”

  “He doesn’t think we’re crazy?”

  “Far from it. Nick’s handled an odd case or two in his day—including one that involved a Raggedy Ann doll and the woman who’s now his wife. That’s why I called him specifically. He’ll be ready to move the instant I bring him the results of the DNA test.”

  “What do we do in the meantime?”

  “Wait—and watch.”

  She blew out a breath. “That is a really, really hard assignment.”

  “I know. Just keep hanging in. We’re in the final inning.”

  She clenched the baseball-themed sheet. “Did Sanders go to work today?”

  “No, but he did take Todd to daycare.”

  “So what’s he up to?”

  “According to Cal, who’s tailing him at the moment, not much. He stopped at Home Depot, gassed up his car, paid a quick visit to his bank. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Do
you think he knows we’ve identified him?”

  “Hard to say. But he has to be worried about it.”

  “What if he runs?” The last word hitched.

  So much for her attempt to sound composed.

  “We’ve got it covered, Kate. Try not to worry. We’re on his tail 24/7. And if he heads for an airport, Nick’s prepared to muster FBI resources to keep him in sight at his destination until we can get there. That’s why I wanted him in the loop ASAP. Agents don’t come any sharper than Nick Bradley.”

  In the background, another male voice spoke, the words indistinguishable. Connor responded with an “I’ll be right there,” then returned to their conversation. “I need to run. We’ve got a conference call on a hot job that’s coming up. I’ll be in touch at least once a day with updates, but feel free to call if you need anything in between.”

  “Thanks—for everything.”

  “My pleasure. Take care.”

  The phone went dead, and Kate tucked it back into her purse as she scanned the pile of bags on the table, most of which contained decorating items that would turn her empty bedroom into a welcoming, baseball-themed haven for her son.

  But did he like baseball as much as he had three years ago, when the two men in her life had spent many a Sunday afternoon on the sofa, rooting for their team? Three years was an eternity in a little child’s life. What did she know of the boy he’d become? Of his favorite color and favorite food, the books he liked, the hobbies and sports he enjoyed?

  He was a stranger to her in so many ways—and she to him.

  Fighting back a sudden wave of panic, she ascended the stairs and wandered down the hall to the empty room she’d originally planned to make an office. Strange how she’d ended up gravitating to the kitchen table for work instead. Almost as if she’d known this space was destined for some other purpose.

  She stopped on the threshold, imagining how all the things she’d purchased would look once they were in place. The Cardinals-themed bedspread and matching curtains. A baseball-shaped lamp. Three throw pillows in bright red. The team’s most recent World Series poster.