AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She frowned. She wished she could remember more. She’d tried to memorize every moment, but between the stress and shock of the abduction, a lot of the details had become hazy in her mind over the last few weeks. “Could be. Did Nancy have a brother? That would definitely be a starting point. If not, it’s a dead end.”
Harley scanned the file and pointed at the emergency contact box. “She listed her next of kin as her brother. Gregory Crowley. Does that sound familiar?”
Jade shrugged. “I don’t think they used names. But one was definitely the brother. I’m not sure about the other guy, though.”
She watched as he turned to his notes and flipped through to what he’d written down after listening to the recorded discussion he’d had with the retired hospital CEO. “He mentioned a brother and a boyfriend when he talked about Nancy’s suicide. How upset they both were. I’ll see if I can get any more information about her death from the local authorities. If this is the right lead, they could’ve been upset for an entirely different reason.”
Jade crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Sounds like Nancy may have switched the babies and then took the secret with her to the grave.”
* * *
“You’re home awfully late, missy.”
Morgan stopped in the grand foyer of her parents’ mansion and turned toward the library. There, she saw her brother Sawyer sitting in an armchair reading one of the leather-bound volumes their father collected.
“You sound like Dad.”
Sawyer flipped the book shut, setting it aside before getting up and walking out into the bright lights of the glittering chandelier that hung overhead in the entrance. His gaze narrowed at her for a moment. “You take that back,” he quipped and then smiled.
“Where is Dad?” she asked.
“That’s a good question. He asked me to come over tonight to discuss some work stuff, but he must’ve gotten caught up at the office. I haven’t seen him yet. I can tell it’s getting late because Lena keeps trying to feed me. She’s finally given up, but every time she walks by, she clucks her tongue.”
“You might as well give in and eat.”
Saw
yer sighed and looked down at the Patek Philippe watch he’d gotten for Christmas from their parents. “I will if you will.”
“That’s fair. I haven’t had dinner yet.”
That was true enough. They’d had a couple drinks, but Morgan had been careful not to let the evening with River evolve into more. Drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to...breakfast. She couldn’t let that happen. So she’d politely made her exit after her second chardonnay and headed back to the house. In truth, she was starving now.
The kitchen was dimly lit and immaculately clean when they went in. Lena was nowhere to be found, likely having retired to her quarters for the evening.
“She must’ve given up on all of us,” Sawyer said.
“We can find something for ourselves.” Morgan walked over to the giant Sub-Zero refrigerator and opened the double doors. There was every kind of fresh produce and dairy product imaginable. Dozens of neat containers lined the shelves with diced and prepared ingredients that Lena probably had ready for the next day’s meals. She knew to steer clear of that.
Reaching inside, she grabbed a block of cheddar and a stick of butter. “Get the French bread off the counter and slice up a few pieces. We’re making grilled cheese.”
Sawyer looked dubious, but did as he was told. “Since when do you cook?” he asked as he held up a skillet like it might bite him. “You keep the local Chinese restaurant in your contacts list.”
“I can make grilled cheese. You went to college, didn’t you?”
“We had meal plans,” he pointed out. “I ate three squares in the campus cafeteria. Didn’t you?”
“Well...yes. But the food courts weren’t open 24/7. I can make grilled cheese.” She pulled a very sharp looking knife from the block on the counter and eyed the thick chunk of cheddar. This wasn’t the prewrapped individual slices she remembered from the grocery store. Slicing this poorly could cost her the tip of her thumb if she weren’t careful. The bread also looked crusty and treacherous. She should’ve known that Lena wouldn’t be caught dead with processed cheese or presliced white bread in her kitchen.
“We can do this,” she insisted. “We are adults. We damn near run a company. There are people our age with children and homes that they manage on their own. Certainly, we’re capable of making ourselves dinner. Right?”
Ten minutes later, with the butter and cheese back in the refrigerator where they belonged, Sawyer and Morgan settled in the upstairs family room with their old standby from their youth: a bag of tortilla chips, a jar of salsa and a container of cookies Lena had baked earlier. As kids, they had liked to sneak down into the kitchen late at night and find unhealthy contraband to take up and eat while they played video games. The kitchen was just as alien to them now as it was then.
The family room, however, was where they’d spent their youth. It was the center of the “kids’ wing” with each of the children’s bedrooms surrounding the large common area. It was one of the only places in the house that they could do whatever they wanted. When they were young, it was a playroom with their toys, and as they got older, it evolved to include a big-screen television, all their video game systems and a foosball table. It even had its own minibar with a microwave, sink, small fridge and stash of healthy snacks for growing children. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been stocked with anything other than bottled water since Morgan had moved away to college.
Morgan settled onto the large sectional sofa and laid out their makeshift dinner on the coffee table while Sawyer got some cold water bottles for them. She kicked off her heels and curled her feet up on the couch. It felt amazing to finally take her shoes off after a long day. She really didn’t like wearing them, but she was significantly shorter than the rest of the family and it was how she’d made up for that genetic shortcoming.
“So where were you this afternoon? I came by your office to ask you something and your assistant said you’d already left for the day. Playing hooky?”
