Bishop jogged across the ER parking lot and rounded the end of the building. Dalton and Mason were waiting for him by a retention pond dotted with ducks and geese, near a stand of thick oak trees.
He shook Mason’s hand. “Thanks for everything you’re doing, that all the Seekers are doing to help.”
“We’re family,” Mason said. “When one of us is hurting, we’re all hurting.”
Dalton nodded. “I almost lost Hayley last year. I know what you’re going through with Harper and Shane. You can count on me, no matter what.”
Bishop gripped his shoulder in a show of solidarity. “Harper and I aren’t a couple. But I appreciate what you’re saying.” He chose to ignore their disbelieving looks. Until this case was settled, he needed to stay focused. It was going to be hard enough to do that today without having slept. Letting loose the floodgates of his feelings for Harper right now would emotionally wreck him. He had to keep it professional, for both their sakes, at least until they got Shane home safely. Then, well, all bets were off.
“I want to get back as soon as I can. Harper’s stepmother’s crying all over her and I don’t trust her sister’s boyfriend. He’s way too quiet. I can’t figure out if he’s an introvert or busy scheming.”
“We’ll be quick,” Mason assured him. “I assigned Bryson to try to locate the midwife. He couldn’t find a Colette Proust anywhere around here, unsurprising since Earl Manning’s lawyer couldn’t, either. So, instead of starting with the present day and working backward, Bryson started with what was known about her six years ago. She lived in an apartment with her brother, Victor, until she moved in with Harper. A few weeks after she left Harper’s place, she and Victor disappeared.”
“Both of them?”
He nodded.
“Were they in on it together then? They moved to another town?”
“That was Bryson’s assumption at first. But after conducting a thorough search of tax rolls in neighboring counties without any luck, he looked through surrounding states. Still nothing. He took a chance that someone in the apartment complex where the Prousts had lived might remember them. Sure enough, the property manager who was there during that time is still there, although just as a resident now. But she remembered them. Apparently, the brother was quite eccentric, which made them stand out in her mind. She said that at the end of their lease, which was right around the timeframe we’re looking at, they planned on moving back home, to Paris.”
“Paris?” Dalton and Bishop both said together.
“The Paris, as in France?” Bishop added.
“One and the same. Bryson couldn’t get flight records going back that far, but he successfully located the brother, Victor, who is right now living in an apartment in the City of Lights.”
“And Colette? Shane?” Bishop asked, hoping by some miracle Bryson had managed to find his son.
Mason shook his head. “Sorry. Bryson pulled some strings, used contacts he made while with the FBI, and had some constables do a wellness check on Victor. A very thorough one. They searched his entire home, top to bottom and even neighboring apartments. There are no signs of any children ever having lived with him. Interviews with his neighbors say he lives alone, rarely has any visitors. As for his sister, I’m afraid I don’t have good news there, either. She became violently ill during the flight to France all those years ago. An ambulance was waiting for her when the plane landed. They rushed her to the hospital but couldn’t save her. She had a massive heart attack.”
Bishop swore. “Let me guess. Victor never heard of Shane or Harper.”
“On the contrary. He knew his sister was staying with Harper. It was a lucrative arrangement and both of them were benefitting from it. But at the end of the pregnancy, Colette told him the same thing she told Harper, that Shane had died. The French authorities believed him, said there were no signs of subterfuge. Or, at least, no evidence that would justify them pursuing the matter any further.”
Dalton crossed his arms. “Sounds like it’s unlikely the Prousts were involved. So what are we looking at? Someone at the hospital stole Shane and said he’d died?”
“I don’t buy it,” Bishop said. “Colette just happens to bring a baby in distress to the emergency room and someone tells her he died? Then provides a death certificate, and yet she’s not involved? You saw what it’s like in the ER here. Tons of people all over the place going in and out of rooms. It would have to be a vast conspiracy. No, I think she was in on it but her brother didn’t know.
“And even if I’m wrong, it makes sense to keep investigating that avenue to see where it leads. If she planned on using Shane to extort money, or even if she just wanted to raise him as her own, she’d have had to keep him with someone else for at least a little while so her brother wouldn’t find out. Maybe she was going to come back for him later. But when she didn’t return, why would whoever was watching Shane keep him for five years and then try to cash in on the opportunity? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Bryson pretty much said the same things you did when talking it through with me. And then he reminded me of what we all know but sometimes forget. When things start getting too complicated, they—”
“Probably aren’t complicated at all,” Bishop interjected, finishing his sentence. “We need to look at the simplest, most straightforward explanation.”
“What would that be?” Dalton asked. “I’m not seeing anything simple about any of this.”
Mason arched a brow and waited for Bishop.
“The simplest explanation is that Colette lied to Harper. The baby wasn’t in distress. She used that as a ruse to take the baby wherever she’d planned to take him.”
Dalton scratched his chin. “That eliminates the idea of a hospital conspiracy, which definitely simplifies things. But we still have a death certificate to explain. Where did that come from? You think Colette forged it?”
“Most likely,” Mason said. “She probably had it ready the whole time. All she had to do was to fill in the date once the baby was born. And since Harper’s father had gone to such lengths to hire Colette and keep everything a secret, there’d be no reason for Harper to doubt Colette or the validity of the document.”
Bishop dragged a hand through his already disheveled hair. “If that’s the case, then Colette planned this from day one, and never intended to take Shane with her to Paris. So what was her angle? An illegal private adoption to make a few bucks on the side? Then years later, whoever adopted him somehow figured out who his biological mother is and decided to cash in on it?”
Dalton shook his head. “That’s really messed up. Who’d keep a kid for five years then offer him up for money?”
“Maybe they don’t plan to make the exchange,” Bishop said. “Maybe they’re hoping to keep Shane and disappear with the money.”
“That’s certainly a possibility,” Mason concurred. “Bryson’s working the money angle, looking for an electronic trail, interviewing anyone who used to know the Prousts, so he can see if one of her associates mysteriously disappeared around the time Colette left, perhaps with a newborn baby. If someone paid her, he’ll find the transaction and figure out who’s behind it.”
Bishop fisted his hands at his sides. “We still don’t have an explanation for the mercenaries. Who hired them? Why kill Harper before getting the ransom for Shane? Once again, it doesn’t make sense.”
Dalton shifted on his feet. “If the puzzle piece doesn’t fit, maybe it’s the wrong puzzle. I know we all agree it seems unlikely, but the gunman aspect may really have nothing to do with Shane and the ransom. Maybe for the time being we assume it’s related to the assassination attempt on former president Manning and focus on the kidnapping, especially since the exchange is supposed to take place tomorrow.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Mason said. “Shane should be the primary focus right now.”
“I wish we could keep all of this about the gunmen quiet,” Bishop added. “But there are too many bodies, too many cops involved, to keep this fiasco out of the press. If, by some miracle, it’s not related to the ransom scheme, I sure hope this Sam guy doesn’t get too nervous and call the whole thing off.”
Mason shook his head. “I don’t think he will.” He exchanged a quick glance with Dalton.
Bishop narrowed his eyes. “What? There’s something else, isn’t there? Another reason you wanted to meet with me?”
Mason gave him a curt nod. “There is one more thing. The lab I hired is still rerunning the actual DNA tests. But they already did a quick paper-only review of the work the other lab did, a scientific walk-through of their methods, their analysis and conclusions. They reviewed the DNA profiles in the report and agreed that, based on those profiles, and the other tests that were done, the samples are mother and son, and the son’s sample came from a live person.”
When Mason didn’t say anything else, Bishop pressed forward. “That confirms what we already believed to be true. Why do you look all gloom and doom? What’s going on?”
Mason huffed out a long breath. “I want any testing the lab does for us to be as thorough and accurate as possible. They’re retesting the sample of Shane’s hair, as you asked. In the meantime, since a mother-son relationship was proved by the earlier testing, I felt it only made sense to make an additional comparison—to the alleged father.”
Bishop stared at him incredulously. “You ran a paternity test? What’d you do, use my DNA profile on file with the Seekers, without my permission?”
“I did what I felt was necessary to protect my employee, and friend, from potentially being taken advantage of.”
Bishop’s stomach sank as he waited for the rest. “Just say it.”
“I had the results double-checked, just to be certain. There is no mistake. Based on your DNA profile, there’s no way that you can be Shane’s father.”
It felt like the air was being sucked from his lungs. He shook his head, his heart refusing to accept what Mason was telling him. But it made sense if he looked at the simplest explanation. He couldn’t remember making love to Harper in the pool house because it never happened. She’d gotten pregnant with another man’s child, just as he’d believed for years, until she’d convinced him otherwise in Gatlinburg. But why would she do that, drag him back into her life years later? Convince him he was her child’s father? Was it just to ensure that he would help her get Shane back? So she could keep everything out of the media but have someone with the background, and incentive, to save Shane without telling anyone what had happened?
“No. I saw the picture. I texted you a copy. Shane has the same birthmark on his face that all of the men in my family have.”
“Pictures can be faked,” Mason said. “You know that.”
He shook his head again. “You didn’t see her in that conference room, the fear and grief in her eyes, in her voice. If she was lying, then she deserves an award. Because I bought every single line.”
Dalton frowned. “I don’t know, Mason. Harper didn’t strike me as the kind of person who would do that.”
Bishop closed his eyes, letting what he knew, what he didn’t know, and what he suspected, flow through his mind. The clues bumped against each other until they all coalesced into one picture. He’d been such a fool. He opened his eyes. “It makes sense,” he said quietly. “It simplifies everything.”
“How so?” Dalton asked.
“Look at the simplest explanation for all of this,” Bishop said. “There was no conspiracy between Colette and someone else. No fake adoption. Shane really was in distress. Colette really took him to the hospital where he...where he died. The ransom note is fake. There is no Sam. There’s only Harper.”
Dalton looked at him in disbelief. “No way. That can’t be right. She’s already wealthy. She wouldn’t need to pull something like this to get money.”
“She’s not rich,” Mason said, his voice subdued. “Her father is. And he’s tight with the purse strings. He insists that his children make their own way in the world, like he did. But most of former president Manning’s assets aren’t liquid. We’ve been running financials on him as part of the investigation. He’s struggling to raise the money to pay the ransom. Harper’s very close to him. She’d likely know it would be difficult for him to come up with the money.”
“That’s why she involved me,” Bishop said. “In theory, anyway. It also means she’s kept tabs on me for years, found out I own a lucrative construction company on top of being a Seeker. She figured I’d be able to come up with the money. I already told her I’m paying the ransom.”
Dalton held up his hands. “Hold it. Before you go off that deep end, there’s one very big glaring hole in your theory. The lab said the hair samples are mother and son. And that the sample came from a living child. How do you explain that if Shane died at birth?”
Mason looked at Bishop. “If we assume the theory you just put forth is fact, then, again, the simplest explanation is that the child’s hair samples weren’t from Shane. And the mother’s weren’t from Harper. They’re from some other mother and son.”
“Which means your theory that I’m not the father could be wrong, as well. Apples and oranges.”
Mason nodded reluctantly. “Agreed. We don’t have Harper’s DNA profile to compare. But it wouldn’t be difficult to get a blood sample while she’s in the hospital. She wouldn’t know it was for a DNA test. I can make it happen. If you’re okay with it.”
Bishop stared at the pond for a long moment before giving him a curt nod. “Go ahead. But tell Bryson to keep digging. Tell all the Seekers to keep digging. I have to know for sure what’s really going on and I’m too tired right now to know what to believe.” He met Dalton’s gaze. “I agree with you about Harper. She’s a good person. It’s hard to believe she’d try to pull a stunt like this. That she’d purposely hurt me, or anyone else. Until or unless I have incontrovertible proof to the contrary, I choose to believe that she’s not trying to rip my heart out, that Shane is still alive, and that he’s my son.”
He turned to leave then froze. A man had just stepped out from behind one of the oak trees.
Detective Radley.
“Hello, gentlemen. Nice weather out here, isn’t it?” He motioned to the pond. “And a gorgeous place to take a break from all the craziness going on inside.”
A feeling of dread settled in Bishop’s gut as he exchanged a quick glance with Mason and Dalton.
“Don’t worry. There’s no one else out here, just me, standing behind the trees when you three came out to have your little huddle. I was going to announce my presence but once you started talking, I was too stunned to stop you.” Radley smiled. “Let me see if I have this right. Harper was single and pregnant and tried to hide it. I assume to keep from embarrassing a sitting president. A little old-fashioned if you ask me, but whatever. She was secluded somewhere with a midwife, this Colette Proust you spoke about. Then she thought the baby, Shane, died. But years later, someone is trying to say Shane is alive and wants to trade him for ransom. Or, in your alternate theory, the baby did die and Harper’s just some money-grubbing treasure hunter out for a quick buck.”
Bishop winced.
“Oh, wait,” Radley added. “I forgot the part where Shane may or may not be your son. Does that pretty much sum it up?”
Bishop took a menacing step forward, but Dalton stepped between them.
Radley held up his hands in a placating gesture. “In spite of what it probably looks like to you, I’m not your enemy. I’m not the media or some paparazzi trying to sell a story. I’m just here to solve a murder. Blake Carter’s murder. And of course, I need some kind of explanation for why I have four dead gunmen in the morgue and another guy in the ER.
“If you cooperate with me,” he asserted, “you’d be surprised what kind of damage control and manipulation of the press that I can do. But I can’t help you if you don’t help me. I need information. If you’re dealing with extortion and kidnapping, that’s exactly the kind of thing that might explain a bunch of mercenaries being involved, and it could explain Mr. Carter’s murder if he saw something he shouldn’t have. Or maybe he was part of the kidnapping plot. Did that theory occur to any of you?”
None of them said anything.
“Okay. How about this?” Radley tried again. “How much money are we talking about here? Would it be enough incentive for daddy dearest to hire gunmen to kill his daughter so he wouldn’t have to pay? Or maybe he was more concerned with protecting his crime-fighting legacy in the court of public opinion than trying to ransom a grandson he never acknowledged he had. Please tell me one of you Seekers has thought of those possibilities.” He glanced at each of them. “Anyone? Bueller?” He chuckled at his reference to the movie from the eighties. The rest of them weren’t laughing.
“There’s another theory that comes to mind,” he continued, as if they were all best friends chatting on a golf course about which club to use for the next hole. “What if the hair samples are indeed fake, as you’ve theorized, but Harper doesn’t know that? What if, instead of her playing you, someone else is playing her?”
Bishop was about to tell Radley where he could go with all his theories when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
All of their phones were buzzing.
They pulled them out and read the messages on their screens. Then, as one, they took off running for the emergency room.