Married? Could she be the woman they’d seen with him? “Do you remember her name or what she looks like?”
Fran scrunched up her nose. “No, to the name. Mousy-looking. I only met her once and briefly at that.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Maren stood to hand Fran and Victoria her business card with the task force’s main number on it. “If you think of anything that might be helpful or hear from Dr. Rolls, please let us know.”
Victoria walked around her desk and escorted Maren and Haven to the lobby.
Maren noted another glass door entrance out the back of the building and spotted a patch of grass, a mature tree and a picnic table in the shade, no doubt for the staff to enjoy during their lunch breaks.
“I hope you find whoever’s stealing and selling babies and make them stop,” Victoria said. “It’s hard enough for teenagers and young women lacking family support to get the medical care they need without them having to worry about being preyed upon by the doctors who are supposed to be caring for them.”
Maren felt a pang at the thought of her own twin not having had the support she needed, which had most likely led to her death. Regret at having drifted apart from her sister lay heavy on Maren’s shoulders.
“From your lips to God’s ears.” She shook the doctor’s hand and then exited through the double glass doors at the front of the clinic.
She murmured a prayer for God to guide her as she hurried to her personal vehicle, a Ford Bronco with a specialized compartment for Haven. Once Haven was settled, Maren slipped into the driver’s seat and fitted the key in the ignition.
However, she wasn’t eager to return to her empty home.
Ever since joining the task force, the fact that she had no social life outside of work had become abundantly clear. But dating, romance and all the messiness that came with it wasn’t something she longed to participate in. How could she risk any more heartache? Losing the last of her family was more than enough.
She was about to start the engine when her gaze landed on a woman walking through the parking lot toward the clinic.
No, it can’t be!
Through the front windshield Maren stared at the woman in an army green jacket and black baggy pants hurrying toward the front doors.
Leaning forward in the driver’s seat, she watched the woman, taking in the details.
Same long, light brown hair, same build and height.
Breathing turning shallow, she blinked hard to dispel the image of her twin sister, walking through the parking lot in front of her.
Because Opal was dead.
The stab of grief, as fresh as it had been three months ago when she’d learned of her sister’s death, seared through Maren.
The Colorado Springs Police Department had determined that Opal Anderson had drowned. Her clothing and identification had been discovered beside the Arkansas River, a tributary of the Mississippi running through Colorado and known for its white water rafting. A river unsafe for swimming because of the strong currents and rocky bottom. Especially at night.
A witness had come forward claiming Opal had been high on drugs when she’d gone into the water. And never came back out. Her body had not been recovered.
Maren rubbed her eyes. She needed rest if she was seeing her dead sister alive and walking toward the clinic.
The woman paused and looked over her shoulder as if sensing she was being watched.
Maren gasped, the sound bouncing through the vehicle.
Her own face had just stared back at her.
Opal. Her twin was alive.
The woman disappeared inside the clinic.
Adrenaline fueling her actions, Maren popped open the driver’s-side door and hopped out while depressing the button on her key fob that would release the hatch on the canine compartment door. Haven jumped out and stood waiting for a command.
Quickly leashing up her partner again, Maren hustled back toward the building. Her head buzzed with questions and her heart hammered against her ribs beneath the green Kevlar vest, which she always wore when working, hidden by her blouse and blazer. The June heat made her sweat, yet cold seeped into her bones.
A shiver of dread raced along her limbs.
