Baby girl—Wish me luck. I’m going to the principal’s office. Detective Majors called and I think she wants to see me even more than I want to see her. What’s the skinny on this?
I don’t trust her, and I sense … something’s up.
I read my mother’s short email a few times and silently debated with myself about what I wanted to tell her. I hit reply and wrote a first draft.
I talked to Detective Majors.
The police know who he is, Mom. I still feel terrible for the wild-goose chase I sent everyone on when I had the wrong name, but now they know for sure. DNA on that damn pink blanket has confirmed it. Detective Majors even has a picture of him. She’ll show you. Be on the lookout. That DOESN’T mean I want you to look for him.
His name is Travis Walker, and he was born in Milton, Mom. He might know who I really am. He might know who Gramps was, who you are. Be careful, be aware.
Also, I wonder if he might have known Dad.
I read my own words over again. If I sent this email to my mother, she would have the information before she met with Detective Majors. I wasn’t exactly sure how that would affect their face-to-face, but my gut told me it wouldn’t be good. At least for Detective Majors.
I didn’t delete the message, but I didn’t send it, either. Mill hadn’t mentioned when she was going into the police station. Maybe my note would just have to be a little too late.
I turned away from my laptop and switched gears.
Before my escape to Alaska, I would have wondered how someone could go missing, especially for as long as the woman seemed to have been without alarms being sounded. But even in the few months I’d been here, I’d seen how it was not only possible, but easy. In fact, if I hadn’t found a room at the Benedict House—if I’d found a cabin to rent—my social interactions probably would have been near nil. If something had gone wrong for me, few people would even know who I was or how to figure out what had happened to me.
A chill ran up my spine. I was lucky to have the Benedict House.
I wondered if Gril had heard back from Christine, the ME. I thought about calling him but decided not to. Maybe the woman hadn’t been killed. Maybe a murder hadn’t occurred. It seemed that most things that had appeared alarming over the last couple of days weren’t as outrageous as first assumed. A dead body was always alarming, though.
Something else had occurred to me when I’d seen Mill’s email. An idea sparked at the back of my mind. I grabbed the burner phone from my pocket and dialed a number I hadn’t called for years until recently, but had known all my life. It was even more ingrained in my memory than any of my own phone numbers.
“Milton Police,” the female voice said. “Do you have an emergency?”
“I don’t. I was hoping to talk to Chief Graystone.”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Sure. This is Beth Rivers.”
The pause became more and more pregnant. I was surprised that my name was still known. No, I wasn’t surprised it was known by some people in the place my grandfather had run, a place I’d worked, but I was surprised the woman who answered, who sounded young, seemed to recognize it.
She finally spoke. “One minute, please.”
I wasn’t on hold long.
“Beth? That you?” Chief Stellan Graystone picked up quickly.
“Hey, Chief. It’s me.”
“Prove it. What did you carve into the corner of your grandfather’s desk?” I heard the smile in his voice.
“SuperGramps,” I said with my own smile. Maybe someday, memories of my grandfather wouldn’t be mixed with so much pain, but I missed him terribly.
“It is you.” I could hear his chair squeak through the phone line. “How are you? Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you where I am, but I’m doing well. Healed completely from everything.”
“That’s great news. You’re still hiding?”
“I am. The guy who took me hasn’t been caught yet.”
“Shoot, Beth, I hoped he’d been found by now. What can I do to help?”
“Well, I have a name now. Has Detective Majors called you yet?” I knew Detective Majors had worked a little with Stellan on the search for my captor.
“No. Who is it?”
“Travis Walker, and he was born in Milton.”
“Holy moly,” Stellan said. “Give me all the details you can.”
While I was sharing the few facts I knew, Stellan got an email from Detective Majors with Travis’s picture attached. I’d thought she might be in touch with him soon. I’d timed my call about right.
“I don’t recognize him at all, Beth,” he said after looking at the picture.
“I remember some Walker families in town, but I don’t remember any problems with them,” I said.
“No, no problems that I’m aware of. I’ll do some research, though, look into things. If he still has family around, he might be in touch with them.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Detective Majors is probably thinking the same thing, but she and I didn’t discuss that specifically. I’m calling for another reason, too. I’m just going to be blunt. If my mom comes around, that means there could be more trouble. I guess I just want to send fair warning.”
“Well, I do appreciate that, and it is something I’m aware of. She’s a woman with a mission.”
“Two missions. My father, and now Travis Walker.”
“Two missions. That could get messy.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be on the lookout, Beth. My staff, most of us around town, are doing a good job of keeping your secret. I can’t control everyone, but I’ve got an officer scouring social media for any locals posting anything that gives away who Elizabeth Fairchild really is. Something might be slipping somewhere, but we’re working to catch things and shut them down.”
“Thank you,” I said, but I knew how impossible it would be to catch everything. The truth would all be out in the world someday, and I suspected Travis Walker knew my real identity already. I wasn’t going to discourage Stellan’s diligence, though.
“You are welcome. How can I get ahold of you?”
“I’ll get back to you, Stellan.”
“I understand. I guess. I can help with protection,” he said.
“I appreciate that, but I’m my own protection, and I like it that way.”
“Got it. Be safe.”
“Will do.”
We ended the call and I packed up my stuff. It was time to work on exactly what I’d told Stellan I was working on: me.
However, I decided it was also time to destroy this phone. I still had another one, but I’d talked to too many people, said too many things using this phone. It was time for it to go. I’d figure out a way to order more.
I only had to stomp down hard once and the phone exploded into a million pieces. It was one of the most satisfying things I’d done in this new life of mine.