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MARISA PACED BEHIND the sofa. Her eyes were scratchy from lack of sleep, her muscles achy. The night before, the soft mattress had wrapped her in luxury while her thoughts had wrapped her in dread.
How was she supposed to sleep without her daughter by her side?
Would Marisa even be able to keep Ana? She hadn't considered the danger when she'd decided to adopt the newborn. At the time, Marisa had thought she'd spend the rest of her life in Mexico. Oh, sure, she'd hoped to come home, but not as a fugitive. And now... Would Ana have a mother in prison, or would the adoption fall through entirely?
Assuming Ana survived.
Rae stepped through the front door, little Johnny on her hip. Marisa had tried not to cry—and failed—when she'd first seen the seven-month-old. He smiled and cooed, his dark hair and skin so like Ana's. Marisa physically ached for her child. How could she survive if she didn't get Ana back?
Now, Johnny was desperately trying to grab the phone from his mother, who held it to her ear. "Okay, I'll tell her." She paused. "Love you, too."
She ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket. "Brady's headed this way."
Marisa stopped. "No. We don't need to pull him into this. He could lose his job. And you should go, too. You don't need the trouble."
Johnny squealed and squirmed, and Rae set him on the floor. He immediately crawled away. Marisa could remember when Ana had been that age, just itching to walk, to run, to explore her world. Marisa had been terrified every minute, more in Mexico than she would have been in a safe place like this. Mexico had never seemed as dirty as when Ana was sticking everything in her mouth.
Where was that sweet girl now? What kind of environment had the kidnappers taken her and Leslie to? Was it clean? Were they feeding her?
Eat your eggs. She'd said it every day, hoping her daughter would grow up strong and healthy.
Now she just wanted her to grow up.
"We're not going anywhere," Rae said.
Marisa had to blink to return to the conversation, the room.
"Kopp doesn't know we know you're a fugitive," Rae continued.
"Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
Rae watched Johnny as he tried to pull himself up at the coffee table. The pause told Marisa she was taking the question seriously, which Marisa appreciated. Finally, Rae said, "I don't know how Nate getting arrested would help anything. Brady was right about that—it would just put the authorities onto the fact that you were in the country, and Kopp already knows that. Nate wouldn't give you up."
"I always trusted him."
"But the police would be looking for you everywhere. You'd have to flee, and how could you figure out who stole the money on your own?"
"But what if Kopp arrests me? What if the people who took Ana...?"
Rae wrapped her arms around Marisa and pulled her into a hug.
Marisa barely knew the woman, but Rae's arms felt like a lifeline in a stormy sea. Rae patted Marisa's back. "Brady knows what he's doing. You have to trust him. And Nate."
Marisa stepped away. "And the federal agent who wants to arrest me?" Marisa started pacing again. "I don't even care at this point. I just want Ana and Leslie safe."
"I know. Why don't you sit?"
The sound of tires on gravel sent Marisa to peer out the window. Nate parked Brady's blue truck in the short driveway, and he and Sam stepped out. A black sedan stopped on the narrow road in front of the cabin.
Marisa had the overwhelming urge to bolt. She turned, spied the back door. Right, and then what? Jump in the lake?
She stepped back and stood between the breakfast bar and the sofa. Rae picked up Johnny and joined her.
The door opened, and Sam and Nate stepped inside. "I'm sorry," he said. "This isn't what I thought would happen."
"I know," Marisa said.
Sam and Nate flanked them, Nate sliding Marisa's hand into his. They must look ridiculous, four people and a baby lined up as if they were facing a firing squad.
Nate had left the door slightly ajar. Still, Kopp knocked.
"Come in," Marisa said.
He stepped inside. Kopp had aged in the eight years since she'd seen him last, but he still looked good. Tall, strong jaw, blue eyes, and light brown hair. The guy was still handsome.
He closed the door behind him, turned, and smiled. "Marisa, are you okay?"
She nodded. Her voice wouldn't work.
"Nate, step away, please."
Nate squeezed her hand, and she remembered what Sam had messaged to her earlier, that Kopp was suspicious of Nate.
"Nate's helping me."
"Humor me," he said. "Let's step outside and talk. Just you and me."
"If you're going to arrest me, just do it."
Kopp blew out a breath. "Fine. Everybody else step outside, and Marisa and I will stay in here. I want to talk to her privately."
Nate shifted forward, and the group formed a circle. "We've come this far," Nate said. "I think we have to trust him." He looked at Marisa. "What do you think?"
She swallowed and walked past Nate to join Kopp.
"Outside?" he clarified.
She nodded and led the way.
The screen door slammed behind them. She stopped by the blue truck. "Okay," she said. "Now what?"
"Tell me what happened in Mexico."
Her voice shook as she told him the story, beginning when she first got the email from Nate and ending at that moment.
When she was finished, Kopp nodded and stared into space. "Don't you think it's suspicious that Leslie and Nate showed up, and right after that, Ana and Leslie were kidnapped?"
"Nate doesn't believe I have the money."
"He says he believes you, but—"
"Not once has he suggested I confess and turn the money over. Not once."
"Okay." He processed. "Have you considered going to the FBI? They're very good at this kind of thing."
She shook her head, terror filling her. "He said not to. He said he'd kill them. I can't take that chance."
"You're not keeping quiet so you don't get arrested, right? Because I can help with that. I can't guarantee anything, but—"
"I don't care what happens to me." Her voice rose, and she could feel the panic rising like a flood. "I just want them back. Don't you get that?"
"I do," he said. "It's okay. I'm not going to do anything without your permission."
She swallowed and wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to hold herself together.
Birds chirped and squirrels ran across the dry leaves that littered the ground beneath the trees. Marisa turned and took a few steps between the cabins to look at the lake. Her fingers itched to sketch it. To paint it, even. Painting, drawing, sketching. Those had been her escape for years. Others turned to alcohol or drugs or food, but not Marisa. Those things held no pull for her. But to paint, to recreate something beautiful on a stretched canvas or a crisp white drawing pad.
She hadn't had a good set of paints in years. Hadn't wanted to spend the money, when she needed all her savings and more to pay for the adoption.
Ana.
Tears filled her eyes. They were wasting time. If Kopp wasn't willing to help her, what would she do?
She just wanted her daughter back.
He stepped beside her. "Sure is pretty here."
As if that mattered. As if anything mattered, without Ana.
"Are you going to arrest me?"
* * *
MARISA STEPPED INSIDE and found Sam and Nate standing in roughly the same spot as they'd stood when she'd stepped out.
Rae came from Nate's bedroom. "Johnny was late for his nap," she said. "I just laid him down. What happened?"
Marisa wiped the tears still flowing. "He's going to help us. He just had to get something out of his car."
"Thank God," Sam said.
Nate swallowed hard. "Let's sit."
A minute later, Kopp joined them at the table carrying a thick manila envelope. Brady was right behind him. Apparently they'd made introductions outside.
Kopp stopped behind the chair next to Sam and reached across to Rae. "Garrison Kopp."
She shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Agent Kopp. Reagan Thomas."
Kopp pulled out the chair and sat. "I'm not an agent anymore. Call me Garrison."
"Okay," Rae said.
Garrison looked around the table. "That goes for the rest of you, okay?"
They all nodded, and Brady sat beside his wife.
"What you got there, Garrison?" Nate asked.
"Information." He reached in his front pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He held it out to Nate. "You can have this back."
Nate took it. "Thanks." He nodded to the fat envelope. "Thought you didn't bring anything."
"I had to be sure Marisa was okay." He unclasped the folder and slid out a half-inch stack of papers. "These aren't official FBI files. Not allowed to take those. But I had a few unresolved cases when I retired. I typed up my own notes to help me remember, in case anything ever happened on them."
"Lucky for us," Marisa said.
"That's a lot of papers," Rae said. "You must have remembered a lot."
"This is also stuff I've collected in my spare time."
"Like?" Nate prompted.
He picked up the first section, bound with a paperclip. "I told you I had new information, and I do. Nothing earth-shattering. I'm not sure how much you remember, but only a couple of guys at the firm were aware of the fraud. Charles Gray, Vincent Depalo"—he nodded to Marisa—"and two other middle-management guys."
"And Jeremy Kinnison," Nate said. "But he cashed out before they got caught. He might have had access—"
"Wasn't Kinnison," Garrison said. "He was in the Bahamas when the money was stolen, and our computer geniuses proved the transfer was made from a desktop in the G&K offices."
"Whose computer?" Nate asked.
"Charles's, and we know he didn't do it. His whereabouts is accounted for that night." He flipped through his papers, then looked up. "Whose place is this? Could I have a glass of water?"
Sam stood. "Anyone else?"
Nobody spoke. She stepped around the bar into the kitchen. "Keep talking. I can hear you."
Garrison continued. "I've kept my eyes on the other two guys ever since. Burns managed to plead to a misdemeanor. He got another job right away and seems to be doing fine. I have no reason to believe he stole the money.
"Anderson was deeper in it. He skirted prison but pled to a felony. He couldn't get another job in banking. He bounced from lousy job to lousy job and finally ended up working at an auto body shop. He got a divorce. I assume his wife dumped him when he lost his job."
"You keep that close tabs on people?" Rae asked.
"I kept my eyes open. But also, I did some digging last night. I have no reason to believe Anderson stole the money. But he might have a good motive for kidnapping. A little payback for what it cost him."
Rae wrote the name on her notepad while Nate nodded. Maybe they were getting closer. A tiny surge of hope rose in Marisa's heart. Calling Garrison Kopp had been a good idea.
Sam slid the glass in front of him and took her seat.
He smiled. "Thank you."
"Sure."
Garrison turned to Marisa. "Have you thought of anything else over the years? Anybody else who might've had access?"
Marisa wanted to protect Leslie, but her sister needed their help now—and Ana, too. She'd want Marisa to do whatever she had to do to get her back home and safe. "My sister overheard Vinnie when he confessed to me. At least I think she did, but I don't know how much. Maybe she told Charles."
Garrison nodded and stared beyond her. After a minute, he said, "Huh."
"What?" Marisa said.
He said nothing.
Marisa looked at Nate, who shrugged.
"Okay," Garrison finally said, "your sister's the missing puzzle piece. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't sure. I'm still not."
"How close are you and your sister?"
She sat straighter. "We were very close."
"But you suspect her." Not a question.
Marisa recounted the conversation she'd had the day before around this very table while Garrison nodded silently.
"Sounds like she's a good bet," he finally said. "Who else might she have told?"
"Like, you mean besides Charles?"
"Friends, boyfriend?"
"Leslie didn't have close friends. Just me. And no boyfriend. She's engaged now. I don't know the guy's name, but it doesn't matter. He wasn't in the picture back then."
Garrison looked past Marisa to Nate. He shrugged.
Rae wrote something on her notepad.
"What?" Marisa said.
Garrison turned back to Marisa. "I wish we could question her. I wish she'd come forward at the time. Any idea why she didn't?"
"I don't know anything more than I told you. I mean... If she did tell Charles, she'd inadvertently gotten my fiancé killed. I think she was scared I wouldn't forgive her."
"Maybe. When she came to Mexico to see you, she still didn't confess?"
"No"
"I see." Garrison looked back at Marisa. "It's too bad she didn't. Let's say you're right and your sister's the one who told Charles what she overheard. Maybe somebody else overheard that conversation? I could have asked her who else she saw in the office that day. If Charles got any phone calls while they talked. If he made a phone call as she was leaving. But I didn't get to question her, and now all those details are lost to us."
"If she did it, she didn't mean any harm," Marisa said.
Garrison looked at Nate. "When did she ask you to help find Marisa?"
He blinked, thought for a moment. "Gosh, was it just four days ago? Seems like forever."
"You didn't report that new information to the authorities?"
"We got on a plane a few hours later," Nate said.
"Otherwise you would have?" Garrison's smile said he knew better.
"It honestly didn't occur to me."
Garrison turned to Marisa. "I think you need to talk to Charles Gray next. I'd go with you, but I doubt he'll open up to me."
"Why him?" Sam asked.
"Based on the information we have, the only people who knew we were investigating G&K were Leslie—though how much she knew is unknown—and Charles. Since Leslie appears to be a victim at this point, and she's not available to interview, Charles is your next best bet."
Marisa could remember very well how it felt to be in Charles's crosshairs. Back then, she'd been too afraid to set foot out of her hotel room for fear he or his men would do to her what they'd done to Vinnie. She'd not seen her fiancé's body, but she'd heard enough. No clean execution for Vinnie. He was beaten to death. If Charles's men had taken Ana and Leslie, would they hurt them the same way? A picture filled her mind, her beautiful daughter, battered and beaten.
"Hey." Nate scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It's okay. I'll go. Charles is behind bars. He can't hurt you."
"I'm just..." She shook her head, afraid to even voice her fears for her daughter and sister.
"I'm not going to tell Charles where you are."
She turned to face him. "But what about you?"
Nate swallowed hard. "I'll be fine."