AJ spent most of his first day researching the two names Sasha had given him online, Jocey Schuster and Olivia Naught. Both were women who had roomed with his sister at one time or another at Richter. The names rang distant bells in his head. Amelia must have mentioned them at some point, but when she was away in boarding school, he was channeling his best bad boy attitude and not paying a lot of attention to what she said on the rare occasions they saw each other.
It took some time, but he was able to follow Jocey all the way to Arizona, where he found mention of her getting married and acquiring a new last name. Now Jocey Miller, it appeared she was living a typical suburban life complete with at least one kid that put her name on a PTA president list in an upscale school district.
Olivia Naught, on the other hand, wasn’t so easy to find. No Instagram, Facebook, Twitter . . . social media had plenty of matching names, but none that fit the right age. Olivia’s family was just as elusive. He tried searches all over Scotland on the off chance the origin of her name meant she’d have ties there.
Nothing.
Like she didn’t exist.
He checked everything from obituaries to marriage announcements. Nothing, nada . . . zilch.
AJ looked at the time, calculated the difference between Berlin and Los Angeles. Between him and the man Sasha called Reed.
AJ knew the minute she walked away that he would use her contact in the States. If for no other reason than to find out whom this Reed guy was. Was he a friend, colleague . . . family member? A benefited friend? AJ didn’t see Sasha sleeping alone very often. Sex appeal dripped off her like water from a tornado-drenched roofline. She pulled off the blonde thing with the American accent like a West Coast girl, but the dark-haired mysterious European thing . . . yeah, that did so much more for his libido.
Not that she’d noticed.
AJ tapped his fingers against his phone a couple of times and then gave in to temptation.
A male voice answered on the second ring. “This is Reed.”
“Ah, yeah. Hi. This is AJ. Sasha said I could call you.”
“She did. Can you hold on just a second?”
“Sure.”
Noise in the background lowered and the connection clicked a couple of times.
“I’m back.”
“Is this a bad time?” AJ asked.
“No. I just needed to move so I could hear you better. So, you’re AJ?”
“I am. I’m sure Sasha told you why I would call.”
Reed laughed. “You don’t know her very well, do you?”
“I’m sorry?” AJ wasn’t sure he understood.
“Sasha told me nothing, just that she gave you my number and to help you out if you called.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, Sasha doesn’t elaborate. Ever. But if you wanna fill in the blanks, I’m listening.”
AJ considered retelling the story about his sister but decided to keep things simple. “I’m not sure if you can help with this or not. Sasha gave me two names to research, Jocey Schuster and Olivia Naught. I found Jocey in Arizona using her degree from Richter playing PTA president at her kid’s school. Olivia Naught, on the other hand, didn’t seem to exist after she graduated.”
“How old is this woman?” Reed asked.
“I’m not positive, but it’s a safe bet to say she is between twenty-seven and twenty-nine. She graduated with my sister.”
“From this school . . . Richter?”
“Yeah. Sasha’s alma mater.”
Reed was silent for a second.
“Where Sasha is staying right now. Did she tell you that?”
“She went back to school?” Reed asked.
“Visiting, I think. It’s a boarding school. Safe to assume some of the teachers are like family after living there.”
AJ heard Reed sigh. “Ahh, that makes perfect sense.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Nothing. So, Sasha gave you two names to research, one is present and accounted for, this Olivia lady disappeared, and you wanna know if I can find anything on her?”
“Yeah. If you can do that kind of thing. I’ve been online for hours and nothing . . .”
“My computers are a little better than average. And what am I looking for, exactly?”
“Anything, everything.” It was then that AJ realized that he had to add a little information to the why behind the names. “These women were roommates with my sister back at Richter. Along with Keri Shrum. Now Keri and my sister are dead, and I’m convinced there’s a connection.”
Reed blew out a breath. “I’m sorry about your sister.”
“Thanks. I want answers, which is why I flew all the way here. Only the mouths at Richter are closed. Much like Sasha’s, but she agreed to help me.”
Another pause. “Why is that? Why did Sasha agree to help you?”
AJ shook his head. “I’m not sure. She said because she wasn’t bored. As if I knew what that was supposed to mean.”
Reed started to laugh.
“I take it you understand the woman.”
He laughed harder. “Oh, God, no. I don’t think anyone understands Sasha. But the not being bored part . . . I get that.”
“Has Sasha told you about Richter?” AJ asked.
Before Reed opened his mouth, he realized his question was going to be met with a negative answer.
“No. Only what I read on a brochure.”
“Why would you read a brochure on the school?” AJ asked.
“To learn more about Sasha.”
It was AJ’s turn to laugh. “Let me fill in a couple of blanks. Consider what a military boarding school would look like in post–Cold War Germany.”
“They have them?”
“No. Not in the truest sense. But Richter filled a void when the wall came down and high-profile political families wanted safe places for their children to go to school. Add in a few troubled teens with rich parents, put in some basic survival skills and maybe some arms training, and you have Richter. Some kids leave after high school, some stay on for an accelerated college degree. They finish in three years what takes everyone else four.”
“How does the word military fall into what you just described? Outside of weapons training.”
AJ remembered how his sister would talk about her years at Richter, about the things she observed. “The doors are locked for all ages, from the youngest students to the oldest. Punishments that would land any American principal in jail for quite a long time.”
“They’re abusive?” Reed asked.
“Think of putting a kid on restriction like an inmate being put in solitary. If the rules the students broke were severe enough, a couple of days in the hole slapped them into shape.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, but according to what my sister told me, it worked. According to my parents, every parent knew what they were getting their kids into.”
“Why would anyone . . . ?”
“To make their kids street-smart. To keep them alive when the world might want them otherwise,” AJ said.
“So locks and security kept the kids in and the bad guys out. And now that you want answers on Richter, no one there will talk to you.”
“You got it.”
“Give me twenty-four hours.”
The tension in AJ’s neck started to ease. “Can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
AJ had a hard time wording what he wanted to ask, so instead he started to ramble. “Sasha is very cloak-and-dagger, and a little badass.”
“She defines badass,” Reed chuckled.
“Yeah. Okay. I can see how she might know her way around finding people and such. What makes you qualified?”
“I’m in security. I still dabble in private investigating. And I was a detective with the police force.”
AJ blinked a few times. I’m talking to a cop. “Overqualified.”
“Be sure and tell my wife that if you ever meet her.”
AJ’s smile beamed. “Your wife?”
“Yeah, do you have one of those?”
“A wife?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Another pause on the line.
“Are you still there?”
“Yup. Just taking down a few notes. I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow at this time.”
“Thanks, Reed.”
“You can thank Sasha. I’m doing this for her.”
AJ ended the call feeling a lot more accomplished than before he’d picked up the phone.
Reed knew what he was doing, was going to help . . . and he was a married man.
And a cop.
Ex-cop. AJ glanced at his cell phone, happy he made a habit out of never bringing one along when he got his adrenaline rush. The last thing he wanted was to find Amelia’s killer and end up in jail for his own crimes.
Although if it could bring his sister back, he’d walk into the police station without a lawyer.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
AJ decided the night needed to end with a beer.
“For a woman in such great shape, you sure spend a lot of time in the library.” Claire sat across from Sasha, much like she had the day they’d met.
And like the day they met, Sasha had her nose in a yearbook.
“Don’t you have class?”
Claire grinned. “It’s Saturday, and since Checkpoint Charlie won’t give me a pass, I’m stuck here.”
Sasha remembered those days well. “Let me guess, no family to come and get you.”
“I’m gifted a week in the summer and Christmas with a host family. Just like you did when you were here.” Claire looked her directly in the eye.
“You’ve been doing some research.”
“I asked Charlie.”
“He’s a good source of information. You’re right. I was stuck here, too. I made the most of it, as I’m sure you do.”
“It gets old. There isn’t a day I don’t think about living on the outside. I already have all the credits I need to graduate. I could leave.” Claire looked around the room.
“Why don’t you?”
The girl shivered and lost her smile. “You’ll think I’m weak if I tell you.”
“You beat me on the obstacle course. I will never label you as weak.”
Claire kept silent, as if contemplating whether or not to answer Sasha’s question. “I know no one outside this school. Host families don’t count. They do it because they’re paid. If I leave with only my high school degree, what’s that going to do for me? I can’t go out and explore life and then come back after a year to finish college.”
“Richter doesn’t work that way.”
“I know. And my benefactor made it clear that I had to stay all the way through to keep their support. But now that I’m eighteen, it’s up to me.”
Sasha’s and Claire’s situations at that age were nearly identical.
“Do you know who your benefactor is?”
Claire shook her head.
“Mine was a woman who was once married to my biological father. He was a disgusting human who murdered my mother. My benefactor kept me here to keep me safe.”
Claire looked at her again. “Then you have family . . . kinda.”
Sasha shook her head. “They’re both dead.”
“Oh.”
“So that’s why you’re back. You don’t have anyone.” Claire released a sad breath. “Jesus, I’m looking at my future. I’m never going to have a life outside these walls.”
Sasha clicked her tongue. “There’s a lot of life away from here. You never know who you’ll meet or what job you’ll take.”
Claire leaned forward, her jaw tight. “But do you still spend Christmas alone? Do you end up with some generic sweater that you’ll never wear because you haven’t worn a sweater since you were ten? Do you have a name to put on your emergency contact list or do you just leave it blank since no one cares if you’re alive or dead?”
“Someone cares that you’re alive or you’d be on the street with all the other orphans.” Everything else the girl said was painfully accurate.
“Lotta good that does me if I don’t know who they are. It’s probably guilt money, anyway. Seems to be what everyone else around here is all about.” Claire pushed away from the table and stood. “Whatever. Thanks for the look in the crystal ball. At least I know I’ll have good taste in clothes.”
Sasha watched her walk away.