Where the Blame Lies

Ms. Merrick sighed. “Anyway, we saw his picture. Such a beautiful boy. He was older than we’d planned on, but we thought, why not? Most people don’t adopt older kids.”

Had they chosen an older child to one-up the neighbor? Josie wondered, but then cast the thought aside. She wasn’t going to judge this woman. Not when she herself lived in a large, glass house rife with cracks.

“Charlie came to live with us. He was such a sweet kid, very eager to please, or so we thought.” Her brow furrowed. “But then . . . he started acting out. In small ways at first, but manipulative too. He’d lie, say he hadn’t done the things we knew he did. We figured he’d had a rough start. It was expected that he’d need us to help him through the adjustment.” She sighed again, fidgeting. “We put him in therapy, enrolled him in acting classes.” She looked up at Zach and her eyes lit up. “He was such a great little actor. We thought with his looks and his talent, he could actually be great someday. Plus, it would help him act out his feelings, you know? He did these great impersonations. His imitations were uncanny and even after only studying someone for a short time. He had my husband down pat.” She released a little laugh. “He’d come up behind me and say something, and I would have sworn it was Vaughn. He’d even put on his cologne so he smelled like him. It was like he understood that you experienced people as a whole, and if every aspect wasn’t just right, the deception wouldn’t work.” She shook her head, a small turning up of her lips. “So talented, even at eleven years old.” Josie’s heart had dropped to her feet and her hand came to her mouth to hold in the sob that was moving up her throat, threatening to break free.

Ms. Merrick looked right at Zach, her smile wistful. “We called him our little copycat.”

Zach had sat stock-still as Ms. Merrick spoke and now he glanced at the window, his eyes spearing Josie though she knew he could not see her. The small nod helped her breath come easier though, and she expelled the pent-up air, willing herself to relax.

“Why did you send him back?” Zach asked.

Ms. Merrick stared at him for a moment, her gaze going stony. “I found out about another affair.” She looked away, out the window on the opposite wall. “We tried counseling. But despite our best efforts, Charlie’s behavior got worse. Then one day he almost drowned our older daughter in the pool. That was the final straw. I couldn’t deal with everything crumbling down around me and fearing for my daughters’ safety at the same time. We had to end the fostering.”

“Did Charlie know your husband had had an affair, Ms. Merrick? Did he know that was at the heart of the reason he was being sent away?”

That seemed to make her pause. “I . . . maybe. He might have heard me on the phone.” She shook her head. “I was very distraught. I needed to vent.” Ms. Merrick seemed worn down, tired, and utterly defeated.

“About the woman your husband slept with?”

As she stared at Zach, something fiery came into her eyes. Ms. Merrick leaned forward, placing her fists on the table and banging lightly. “The women, Detective. Plural. Every last one of them that willingly spit

on my marriage. Vaughn carries the bulk of the blame, don’t think I don’t realize that. But they’re not innocent. In the end, they’re all to blame for the ruin of our family.” She sat back. “They’re all to blame for us not being able to give Charlie a home.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Zach locked the door behind him and turned to Josie. She was already standing, and the look of utter devastation on her face obliterated him.

He closed the distance between them in two heartbeats and took her in his arms. She was shaking and she clutched at him tightly, allowing him to comfort her. When he stood back, he saw that she had tears in her eyes, but also that same fire he’d seen in her so long ago. He smoothed back her hair. I love you, he thought. Maybe I have since the moment I saw you, beaten and bent, but unbroken. Just like now.

“It was him,” she said, her voice clogged. “Cooper.” She shook her head, gasping out a small breath. “He impersonated Marshall, didn’t he?”

“I believe so,” he said quietly. “That’s what it looks like.”

Her gaze grew distant. “Once I was sure of who he was, I didn’t question the small inconsistencies.”

“It’s what the mind does, Josie. It fills in gaps. You cannot blame yourself for that.”

“He impersonated him, and then he killed him. Made it look like a suicide.”

He gripped her head, bringing her eyes to his. “We’ll find him, Josie. We will.”

She nodded her head, a jerky movement, and he caught a tear with his thumb, wiped it away. “Zach,” she whispered, her expression crumpling, “do you realize what this means? Cooper is the father of my baby. All this time . . . I’ve been looking in the wrong direction. All this time . . .”

Zach opened his mouth to speak when a knock came at the door. Josie stepped back, swiping the wetness from her cheeks as she nodded.

Zach brought his lips to her forehead quickly and then opened the door to Jimmy. “We got his address. He was living in an apartment in Price Hill under C. Cooper Hartsman. The place is cleared out. He’s gone.”

Zach swore harshly. “Did you search the whole building?”

“The whole thing. No trace of him, and no sign of anyone else.”

No sign of Reagan.

Zach rubbed at his temple. “So he had to use his legal name to work and rent an apartment, but otherwise, went by Cooper Hart.”

“From what we can tell so far.”

Of course, the guy was apparently a brilliant impersonator and a master manipulator. He could appear anywhere as anyone. And in the meantime, Reagan was probably chained up in some dark underground room.