Born To Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“She was born in Helena.”

“All right.”

She felt herself falter inside a little. Could she be mistaken? He seemed genuinely at a loss. “Did you know Jocelyn Wallis?”

“Jocelyn who? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Then something sparked. “Wait a minute. I read something about a woman who died recently. She fell while jogging?”

“Or was pushed. I don’t know the details,” Kacey admitted. “Only that her death is being investigated, maybe caused by foul play.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“It’s because of the resemblance. See . . .” She pulled the pictures of the two women she’d mentioned from her briefcase and slid them across the desk, faceup. “These two, and Elle Alexander, who was a patient of mine.” She found Elle’s photo and slid it across as well. “I guess Mom didn’t mention this when she called?”

“She said that you were on some mission, but I was busy, didn’t pay attention to her ramblings.”

“Maybe you should have.”

“I assumed she meant you were looking for me to come out and claim you.”

“That’s not it at all.”

“I don’t know these women. Never met any of them.”

“I think they could be related to me.”

“What? These women?” He looked down at the photos again. “Through me?” He let out a short bark of a laugh, as if he expected some dark, macabre punch line. His skin reddened. “Is this some kind of shakedown?”

But there was something he wasn’t saying. She saw it in his eyes, a lie he was trying to disguise. There was more here; she just wasn’t sure what.

“Are you trying to punish me?” he demanded.

“Punish you.”

“For not acknowledging you like I did with Robert.” He said it as if it was a cold, hard fact, one they both understood.

Kacey blinked. “Who’s Robert?”

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

They stared at each other, and he seemed to be sizing her up again before he clarified, “My son? Robert Lindley? That’s what this is really about, right?”

A chill, as cold as the bottom of the sea, settled at the base of her spine. What the devil was he talking about?

When she didn’t respond, he prodded, “Janet’s boy.”

“I’m sorry. Who’s Janet?”

His lips twisted a bit. “You didn’t do all of your homework, did you? Robert’s a few years older than you, and I . . . claimed him, once Janet and her husband split up.”

How had she missed this?

“He works for the company, too, like the others. He’s in research and development. Great technical mind.”

So there was another half sibling in the mix. Her life as an only child seemed suddenly distant.

“When your mother called, I thought you wanted in, to be a part of the family, get whatever it is you think is your fair share of the company.”