Her Detective's Secret Intent

But it wasn’t his truth to tell.

And how could he know, really, the nuances between a daughter on the run and a father left behind? He’d never been either.

“See you for coffee after the meeting on Tuesday?” he asked her.

“Of course.”

Tad hung up, completely dissatisfied, and yet relieved, too. They’d taken a step back.

And they were still friends.

Chapter 12

On Monday, Miranda took her lunch hour to visit The Lemonade Stand. She’d called first, found out that Sara Havens Edwin, lead counselor and the woman who’d counseled her when she’d first landed in Santa Raquel, had half an hour between appointments, and Miranda offered to bring lunch.

With her complete security clearance, she could park in the employee lot and did so, still wary enough not to want anyone to see her entering the Stand and assuming she was a victim. No one could know she’d been one, except the few who’d worked with her, those who’d initially helped her.

New identities had to be just that—brand-new. Zero ties to the old.

And yet her very existence was a tie to herself, to her own history, that would never be broken.

Placing two veggie pitas on the table between them in the little conference room Sara had booked, she sat, sipping from one of the two glasses of tea Sara had come in carrying.

“We haven’t had a meeting like this in well over a year,” the counselor said, her blue eyes piercing. “What’s up?”

“I’ve met someone.”

“Ahh.” The woman smiled, and her dark blond hair seemed to halo her expression.

“No...it’s not like that,” she said. “It’s not...we’re just friends. It’s Tad Newberry. He’s visiting, as you know, but we’ve been spending some time together.”

“I’m glad.”

Yeah, well, she didn’t need a go-ahead on that score, although she could understand why Sara thought she’d come for encouragement. Sara knew she hadn’t had a close personal relationship since Jeff.

“I keep having to bite my tongue not to tell him about my past,” she said in a rush, feeling like a criminal for even having the thought. “I mean, you know him. You know we can trust him. Yesterday we took Ethan to the beach and got to talking, and he told me some things about his past and I just... His mother was a nurse like I was. He lost his sister—and then lost his mom young like I did. I understood and I needed so badly to tell him that. And I couldn’t.” The words came pouring out of her. “I felt like I was shortchanging him. And me, too.”

Putting down the pita she’d unwrapped, but not yet bitten into, Sara placed her hands on the table. The counselor was familiar with trauma. She’d lived through some devastating stuff of her own. Which was part of what made her so supremely good at her job. She was also a natural calming influence.

Miranda didn’t feel at all calm. A little more so when Sara met her gaze, her tone dead serious as she started to speak.

“I want to be able to tell you what you need to hear,” she said. “But I can’t, Miranda.” Miranda, not Dana. Always. Sara knew her birth name. She’d never used it. Not once.

“For your own safety, and Ethan’s, there can be no ties. None. Particularly with law enforcement. When you left, your father had the entire state of North Carolina convinced he was to be revered, giving him a greater ability to find you than most abusers ever have. We’ve got no idea how far he’s risen now and no one here is going to risk looking him up, either, in case a search shows up somewhere and an IP address is traced...”

“Tad’s from Michigan.”

“It doesn’t matter. And I think you know that. You just needed me to know that you’re tempted, didn’t you?”

With tears in her eyes, Miranda nodded. She was fighting her battle.

And Sara was her arsenal.

* * *

Tad’s biggest takeaway from coffee on Tuesday was relief that he and Miranda were okay. Her eyes had met his a couple of times over the conference table during the High Risk meeting. She’d smiled at him once, as though they were sharing a private joke. And afterward, at the coffee shop, she stayed for an extra half hour after everyone else left—as had become their tradition.

On Wednesday all hell broke loose. As it had been told to Tad, Marie had called Miranda to ask about swelling and pain in Danny’s leg, asking for a doctor’s excuse to keep him out of school. Danny had missed so many days over the past year that they’d reached the limit legally allowed before authorities got involved.