Chapter 3 #2
Putting steel into her own voice, she said, “We both have a common goal. To find Opal. Or at least the woman we think is Opal. By joining forces, maybe we can discover something that will help us solve both of our cases.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“What do you think my sister was doing at the clinic?” Maren asked, her brain filing through different scenarios. “I hate to think she is working for the illegal adoption ring.”
Colt’s voice softened. “I get the feeling you don’t want to think she might be pregnant.”
Maren’s heart thumped. Sweat broke out along the nape of her neck.
Opal pregnant? Wouldn’t Maren have felt that sort of change in her sister?
Maybe the twin connection that she’d always put so much stock in was just an illusion.
Something she and Opal had made up. Yet, the many instances of their uncanny link belied that thought.
Maybe it was Opal’s drug use. “Before my sister’s supposed drowning, she went off the grid. I’d been unable to find her.”
“So really, you have no idea who she’s been associating with,” Colt’s voice filled the cab. “My informant vows she’s the girlfriend of one of Shadow’s top lieutenants.”
Sadness mixed with regret made her wince. So much lost time with Opal. If only they’d remained in touch, things would be so different. She’d have known who Opal was involved with.
Staring at the truck where Colt sat, she asked, “You trust this informant?”
“No way,” Colt scoffed. “He’s a drug addict. But most of his intel thus far has been spot-on. I can’t say for sure that he’s not playing both sides, feeding the DEA information and then feeding Shadow information. He could be the leak that keeps Shadow from our grasp.”
“That’s a hard call,” Maren said. “I want to see where my sister was staying.”
“Okay, follow me,” he said.
Maren followed the brown truck to the edge of town and pulled into the parking lot of an old, run-down, two-story motel that probably should have been condemned years ago.
She parked beneath the shade of a tree and kept the engine running. Colt and his dog hurried to her car. He climbed in the passenger’s side with his K-9 sitting on his lap.
He pointed. “She came out of room 210.”
“Let’s see if she’s returned.” Maren turned off the engine and reached for the door handle.
Colt stopped her with a hand on her arm. “We don’t know who else is in that room.”
Eyeing the peeling green paint curling around the brown doors, she said, “Have you seen anyone else going in and out?”
“I haven’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean there might not be more people involved. I sat here for two days waiting for that door to open. And when it did, Opal stepped out.”
Needing to know if Opal was there, she said, “We have to risk it. I need to do this.” She took a beat before adding, “I should go alone.”
“No way.” He opened the passenger door and turned to look at her. “Let me lead. My investigation.”
Not liking having someone else in charge, she frowned. She was stepping on his investigation, but it was her sister that might be in that room. Maybe all the more reason for her to allow him to take point. “Fine.”
With their dogs at their heels, they made their way across the parking lot. The heat coming off the pavement made them hurry to protect the paws of their canines.
They made their way up the staircase to the second floor and proceeded down the cement corridor and approached room 210.
The window shades were drawn closed. They couldn’t see inside.
Colt rapped his knuckles on the door. Rusk stood at his side. His body tense as if he expected to protect his partner.
No response to Colt’s knock.
“Housekeeping,” Maren called out. Beside her, Haven shifted as if ready to lunge at the door.
Colt glanced over his shoulder at her. She wasn’t sure how to take his raised eyebrows. Approval or reprimand?
She shrugged, unapologetic.
Still no answer or movement from inside the motel room.
Colt tried the brass doorknob. It easily turned in his hand. He unholstered his sidearm and pushed the door open.
Holding her firearm at the ready, Maren tapped his shoulder to let him know she was on his six. Her heart hammered against her ribs as they entered the room.
Neither dog alerted.
They were greeted by orange shag carpet, with one of the two queen beds mussed as if recently slept in, and the remnants of fast-food wrappers littering the desk and floor.
Colt cleared the bathroom.
He holstered his gun. “She apparently didn’t come back.”
“She might still show up.” Maren couldn’t help the hope in her voice.
He gave her a sympathetic look. “Do you really believe that?”
No, she didn’t believe Opal would return. Not with dangerous drug dealers on her tail who wanted to keep her from possibly identifying the boss to the authorities. This was a dead end. “How long have you been following my sister?”
Maren couldn’t believe how easily those words rolled off her tongue. Now that she’d basically accepted her sister was alive, the urge to see her and hug her was strong.
“Five days ago, my informant told me that someone who looks a lot like the supposedly dead Opal Anderson was hiding out in Barren Valley. Though this town is small, there are places here that someone could easily hide in.”
“That doesn’t explain how you identified her.”
He grimaced. “I’m sorry to say, I’ve arrested your sister a few times in the past.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Hurt and disappointment permeated her chest. Opal’s drug use had started right after their parents’ death and continued on. No matter how much Maren pleaded with her to go to rehab, Opal had refused. “Clearly, she never mentioned she had a twin.”
“No, she did not. Nor did she mention her sister was in law enforcement. Maybe things would have gone differently for her if she had.” Colt’s gaze turned intense. “I sense there was estrangement between you two. Why?”
“She didn’t like that I went into law enforcement.” She remembered the arguments. The accusations. The guilt and blame. “Or that I wouldn’t give up searching for our parents’ killer.”
His mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. “Your parents were killed?”
“Hit-and-run.” Even talking about it brought up all the impotent rage that had fueled her to excel through the police academy. “No witnesses. No cameras in the area.”
Colt frowned. “The driver was never caught?”
“No. Plus, we were eighteen at the time. Not exactly in a position to push the police to do more.”
“And that’s what drove you to pursue a career in law enforcement.”
The empathy in his expression had her throat closing. “Unfortunately, Opal dealt with our parents’ death by checking out and numbing herself with drugs.”
Colt took her hand. “I am sorry for your loss.”
She slipped her hand away because the contact made her feel uncomfortable and comforted at the same time.
She needed to stay grounded. Focus on the here and now. On what she could control. First order of business was finding Opal. “Tell me everything you know about Opal and her supposed death.”
“Don’t you have access to the police file?”
“I do,” she said. “I’ve read it cover to cover. I know what it says. But I want to know what your take on the situation is.”
Colt nodded. “On the night she was presumed to have died, Opal and a companion bought a two-ounce bag of fentanyl-laced opioids off a low-level drug dealer. Four hours later, a witness—” He paused, pulling his eyebrows together. “Vinnie Homer. He reported the drowning.”
Pulse thrumming, Maren leaned forward, reciting the words she’d memorized.
“The police report stated Opal had been high and had left her clothing and identification on the riverbank before wading into the Arkansas River. She went under and never came back up. The next morning her necklace was found downstream in a tangle of bushes.” Tears pricked the back of Maren’s eyes. “I gave her that necklace.”
“I’m sure you could reclaim it,” Colt said softly.
Something Maren had thought about over the past three months but had never acted on.
“I want to talk to your informant.” Maren’s breathing accelerated. “Do you think he helped my sister fake her death? And if so, why lead you here? Why fake her death at all?”
“All good questions,” Colt said. “I can arrange for us to meet him.” He picked up a pencil from the desk and sifted through the garbage can. “Maren, you should see this.”
Moving to his side, she gave a little gasp. Deep in the wastebasket was an empty bottle of prenatal vitamins.
Could Opal be pregnant?
Anxiety twisted in her gut. “But we can’t be sure those are hers.”
“One way to find out.” Colt reached into his pants pocket for a clear evidence bag and fished the bottle out of the trash can, then slipped the bottle into the bag. He stuffed the evidence into the pocket of his cargo pants. “I’ll have our lab run fingerprints.”
“Even if her prints are on the bottle, it doesn’t mean more than that she was taking care of herself,” Maren stated.
The sympathetic expression on his face had her turning away. She swallowed the emotions rearing up.
Her sister could very well be having a baby. It made sense now why she had gone to the clinic. The urgency to find Opal intensified.
After searching the motel room for anything that could tell them where Opal would go next and coming up with nothing, they left the motel and hurried back to their respective cars.
As she drove away from the motel, a barrage of bullets pelted her Bronco.
The back tire blew with a loud bang and the SUV jolted.
Heart hammering hard enough to pound metal, she lost control and swerved into a ditch on the four-lane highway.
A blue panel van pulled up alongside her, the door slid open and a masked man jumped out.
Was it the same masked man in black who’d shot up the clinic?
Fearing she was about to die, she dove sideways into the passenger seat. Haven’s frantic, aggressive barks echoed in her ears. Thankfully, she was locked securely in her compartment.
The mask man used the butt of his automatic rifle to break out the window. “You should have stayed dead. No one crosses Shadow and lives.”
Having no time to process his words, she braced for another barrage of bullets, and lifted a prayer asking God to spare her life.
Gunfire rang out.