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“You have done your homework,” Sara said.

Jack pushed his empty plate away. “What else do you know about her?”

“She had a tough life.”

“Oh?” Sara encouraged. “Let’s go to the living room. Jack? Kate?”

They knew what she meant. They could clean up from lunch.

“Houseboys,” Jack whispered when he and Kate were alone.

“I think he’s staked you out to be his son-in-law. How tall do you think his daughter is? How blonde? Natural color or a box? And a lawyer. You know what they say about 25,000 lawyers at the bottom of the sea. A good start.” She put the trash in the bin and firmly rolled the door shut. “Bring the pitcher.” Turning, she left the room.

It took Jack a few moments to lower his eyebrows from where they’d risen up under his hair. It couldn’t be possible but it almost sounded like Kate was, well...jealous.

Couldn’t be, he told himself, then dumped a bag of bakery cookies onto a plate, grabbed the pitcher, and carried both into the living room. He took a seat beside Kate, facing Sara and Chet on the other sofa.

“Not much to tell,” Chet said. “Janet Parker lived a very ordinary life. Only child of comfortable, not rich, parents. It was while she was at the University of Wisconsin that things changed. Her father was a mechanic and he invented something...” Chet waved his hand. “He created a gadget that made air conditioners work better. He sold the patent for millions. Mr. Parker immediately retired and he and his wife began to travel. Enjoying the good life.”

Chet took a drink, picked up a cookie, took a bite, and said, “Until right after Janet graduated, that is. Her parents went skiing in Colorado and they were never seen again. Their bodies were never found.”

“I guess Janet inherited everything,” Sara said.

“She did. Millions. But the odd thing is that she kept on working. Nothing serious, just—”

“By serious, do you mean like being a lawyer?” Jack smiled at Chet.

“Exactly!” For a moment he looked back and forth from Kate to Jack, as though trying to analyze them. “She never stayed anywhere for long. In 2004, she married her widowed boss, Carl Olsen.”

When the three listeners drew in their breaths, Chet stopped. “What bell did I just ring?”

“We’ve heard the name Carl recently,” Jack said. “They lived in Arizona, right?”

Chet smiled. “Put that together, did you?” He sounded proud.

Sara went into the family room and returned with her big iPad, th

e foot-wide one, and brought up the photo Jack had taken of the man who spied on them outside the Wyatt house. “Is this her husband?”

“Could be. I’m not sure. The Carl Olsen I saw is about three hundred pounds. I’d have to run it through facial recognition software. You have other photos?”

“A few,” Sara said modestly.

Chet looked at each person in speculation, then back to Sara. “I read the report you gave Flynn. Very well written. Most police reports are barely readable, but that one should be published.”

“That’s what Everett hopes,” Sara retorted.

Her smart-aleck remark made them smile, but Chet’s eyes were calculating. They were seeing the man who’d worked his way up from the bottom to the top of the police force. “Anyway, Janet left Arizona and changed her name to Beeson.”

“That’s why it was so hard to find out about her past,” Jack said.

Chet nodded. “So what happened to make you think this man was Janet’s husband?”

“Bits and pieces,” Sara said.

The three of them closed their lips tightly. They weren’t going to say that Tayla—one of their own—had said the name.

“All right.” Chet stood up. “Maybe I could show you a small...” He emphasized the word. “A small bit of what I’ve found out about the White Lily Kidnapping over the years.”

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