She nodded, fighting back tears. Holt said, without smiling, Well, then, obviously, that would make you my sister. She nodded again, hugging herself tightly; it was all she could do, it seemed, without breaking down. Holt shook his head and simply said, Wow. Lindsey thought, Hes as shaken by this as I am.
And as before, the awareness brought her a measure of calm. She said softly, This must be hard for you, too. Finding out your mother is alive, after all these years.
Might be alive, Alan broke in, his voice harsh. Were still lacking absolute proof.
Which, thank God, we can get easily enough, Holt said briskly. Ill make sure you get a DNA sample before you leave. He closed the folder but held on to it. But seems to me we have a pretty strong connection here
Connect the dots Lindsey murmured, but nobody paid any attention to her.
So, she stood silently and watched them, the two men who had come into her life so unexpectedly and with such catastrophic effect. It struck her how alike they were, without actually looking alike. Same approximate age, similar coloring-dark hair and blue eyes-although Holt had more silver in his hair and deeper creases around his eyes and mouth, and his eyes werent quite as hard and steely as Alans. They were of similar build and body type, too-tall but not extraordinarily so, slim but muscular-although Alan was more powerfully built. A memory-the glimpse shed had of him naked to the waist, mopping water drops from his neck and chest-flashed into her mind, and something inside her chest did a peculiar dropping-squeezing maneuver that made her catch her breath, inaudibly, guiltily
I agree, Alan said, setting his coffee down and leaning toward the other man, elbows on his knees. He counted, raising and touching one finger at a time, and Lindsey found herself riveted by the graceful economy of his movements. One, the McKinneys are abducted from a movie theater parking lot in Baltimore. Two, two days later a Jane Doe matching Karen McKinneys description is pulled out of the Chesapeake, sporting a head wound that appears to have been caused by a bullet crease. Three, three days after that shes identified by a man claiming to be her husband, as Sally Phillips, his wife, who is also discovered to be in the early weeks of pregnancy.
He paused then, as a young woman came into the room, moving quietly to stand behind her husbands chair. She was small and slender, with short blond hair cut in shaggy layers. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she seemed very young, barely more than a girl-until she leaned forward into the light, and Lindsey saw that her face wore the kind of serenity that only comes from having lived through the worst life has to offer, and emerged whole and happy on the other side.
Holt looked up, smiled, and took the hand shed placed on his shoulder. Hey, there you are. Alan, Lindsey-like to have you meet my wife, Brenna.
Alan, who had risen with old-fashioned courtesy, nodded and said, Nice meeting you, Brenna.
Lindsey nodded, too, and murmured, Hi.
Dont let me interrupt, Brenna said. Her voice had a raspy, husky quality, and her eyes were a shade of golden hazel that seemed only a shade or two darker than her hair.
Alan smiled at her and continued. Andfour, Richard and Susan Merrill appear in San Diego, California, Susan gives birth to Lindsey roughly eight months later. Oh-and Susan Merrill also happens to have a scar on her head that closely corresponds to Sally Phillipss head wound. And, has no record or memory of a past prior to San Diego.
Seems like a no-brainer to me, Brenna said with a shrug.
Seems like a no-brainer to me, Brenna said with a shrug.
Holt nodded, but then let out a breath in a frustrated gust. Okay, Im pretty much convinced. It all makes sense, except for one thing-why?
Chapter 10
But when the man threw himself in front of her and my bullet went wild and missed its mark, I knew I had made a terrible-perhaps fatal-mistake.
He fought like a demon, even though his hands were bound. It was several minutes before I could regain control of the situation, and by that time, the woman had vanished in the darkness and fog. I searched, but could find no trace of her. At that point I could only hope the ocean had taken her after all.
Excerpt from the confession of Alexi K.
FBI Files, Restricted Access,
Declassified 2010
No one spoke. Holt looked at Alan, then Lindsey. After a long moment, he repeated it, in a voice rigidly controlled. Why were they taken? There was no reason for them to be targeted-none whatsoever. Thats whats always confounded me. Its what confounded Baltimore PD. Its damn hard to solve a case, he growled, when theres absolutely no motive. No suspects. Nothing that makes any kind of sense.
Alan cleared his throat. Well, there is one thing.
So Alan told him what Bob Faulkner, the retired Baltimore homicide cop, had said.
When hed finished, Holt was staring at him, stony-faced. Brenna sat down on the arm of his chair and put her arm across her husbands shoulders.
Lindsey whispered, A mistake? Her face was pale with shock. Alan wanted to go to her, tell her to sit down, for Gods sake. Hold her. But of course he didnt.
They all sat in silence, listening to the noise the rain and wind made as if fascinated by it-such unfamiliar sounds in that part of the world. Alan thought there probably werent any words that could have expressed what they must be feeling, these two people whose lives had been turned upside down-forty years apart in time-by someones mistake.
If thats what it had been.
Brenna rose abruptly. Anybody want more coffee?
Yeah, Billie-thanks, Holt said absently, and Alan said, Billie? He was tuned to pet names, it seemed.
Brenna turned to smile at her husband, but only said, Long story.
While they waited for the coffee, Holt made a visible effort to pull himself together and asked Lindsey to tell him about her mother.
His mother, too, Alan reminded himself. Most likely. There was real poignancy in that, he thought, but he had fortified himself against it; wallowing in the tragedy of these peoples lives, he told himself, wasnt going to help solve the mystery of what had happened to Karen and James McKinney, and why.
He listened to Lindsey talk with only half of his attention, while he watched her avidly-watched the two of them, of course, but mostly Lindsey. It struck him how alike they were-not surprising, considering they were almost certainly brother and sister. He didnt need DNA to know that, it was right there in front of him. They had the same general body type-tall and slim, athletic build. And the same thick dark hair-although Holts was a little more wavy and beginning to gray at the temples-and those same thick-lashed blue eyes.
Although Holts didnt have quite the same effect on him Lindseys had.
What was it, he wondered, that made one particular persons face so arresting to another? That made one face stick in his mind? Made him want to go on looking at it, never tire of watching it? He had no answers.
At one point he happened to glance over at Brenna, and found her watching him-watching him watch Lindsey-and there was something in her eyesin her smilethat said, Yes, I know. I understand how you feel.
The cold squeezing sensation he felt in his belly was fear.
I cant do this, he thought. Fall in love with her? Cant happen. Cant let it happen. No way.
Look at the time, he said abruptly, sitting up and glancing pointedly at his watch. Lindsey-long drive ahead of us. Weve kept you people long enough-didnt realize it was getting so late. He was on his feet, and instantly so were Holt, Brenna and Lindsey. Lindsey looked red-eyed and exhausted.
Tomorrows Sunday, Holt reminded him. We can sleep in-well, one of us can, he added ruefully when his wife gave a huff of laughter and poked him with her elbow. I guess with a toddler in the house, theres no such thing as a lazy morning. But, hey, you two should think about getting a hotel room, staying in town overnight. Drive back tomorrow. You know the freeways are going to be a nightmare with the rain. Wish we had a place to put you, but-
He and Lindsey both assured him they would be fine, as hed said, tomorrow was Sunday, they had plenty of time. Eventually, they were able to take their leave, amid clasped hands and hugs and exchanges of addresses and phone numbers, including cell phones, and promises to keep each other up-to-date and in close touch. Alan had Holts DNA on a swab in a sealed evidence bag safely tucked away in his pocket.
In spite of the rain and the lateness of the hour-nearly midnight-being Saturday night, Hollywood was still clogged with traffic. Alan turned west on Sunset, figuring to make his way to the 405 freeway and thus avoid the nightmare through downtown L.A. However, the San Diego Freeway was also moving at a crawl, which was no big surprise to Alan. Hed become familiar over the years with Southern California drivers customary response to wet roads, which was to proceed at normal speed in complete disregard of the fact that a little moisture on top of several months buildup of oily scum would turn roadways into skating rinks.
After crawling along for half an hour or so, he looked at Lindsey and said, What do you think?
She looked back at him and said, Its up to you, youre the driver.
So, he took the next exit and headed toward Santa Monica. Not being familiar with that town, he headed straight for the beach, figuring that would be the most likely place to find hotels with vacancies on a rainy November night. He chose the first big franchise hotel he saw-a Holiday Inn, right on the beach-and left Lindsey in the car while he went in to ask about vacancies. He was lucky; two adjoining rooms were available on the fifth floor on the side of the hotel that overlooked the ocean. He put the rooms on his personal credit card, then went back outside to the car. The rain was still coming down hard, a rush of sound that muffled but didnt drown the occasional boom of a wave thumping down on the shore at high tide. He slipped behind the wheel and slammed the door, cutting off the noise of storm and sea.
Got us a couple of rooms, he said, and Lindsey nodded.
The silence seemed to wait for something more, and Alan knew there were things that probably needed to be said but didnt know what they were or how to say them. So, after a moment he started up the car and drove into the parking garage. As they waited for the elevator, he asked her if she was hungry. She shook her head. The elevator arrived and they rode up to the fifth floor in silence.