Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
A sharp knock cut through the room.
Duke and Andi exchanged a glance as Ranger opened the door.
Rupert swept inside, phone in one hand and a cardboard carrier of energy drinks in the other. “Okay—quick pivot. We’re adjusting the afternoon schedule, and I need everyone aligned on messaging before the next appearance.”
He began setting cans down one by one like punctuation marks. Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Caffeine,” Rupert said brightly. “You’re welcome.”
Duke didn’t want to get caught up in Rupert’s whirlwind of stress—not when they had other important things to do.
He edged closer to Andi, lowering his voice. “We should go.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Her gaze flicked toward the door.
Across the room, Mariella must have caught onto their body language. She gave them the smallest nod. Go.
Rupert was still talking. “We’ll need tighter turnaround between segments, and I want to emphasize engagement—real-time engagement—”
“Oh,” Mariella interrupted smoothly, stepping in front of him. “Before you finish that thought, you have to see this.”
Rupert paused.
Matthew popped up, tablet in hand. “I reorganized the schedule. Color-coded. By platform. With contingencies.”
Rupert leaned in, interest instantly piqued. “Is that blue for social and green for broadcast?”
“Yes,” Matthew said. “Yes, I thought it would be easier to keep straight that way.”
Rupert gasped softly. “That makes so much sense.”
While his attention locked onto the screen, Andi and Duke slid past the doorframe. Duke pulled the door closed quietly behind them, the click of the latch barely audible over Rupert’s renewed enthusiasm.
Rupert’s voice rose half an octave. “Wait—no—who approved that font?”
Duke fought a smile but didn’t look back.
He and Andi made it to the elevator just in time to hear Rupert’s frantic protest about branding integrity.
“Remind me to thank them later,” Andi murmured as the doors slid shut.
“Absolutely. Hazard pay might be appropriate.”
The two of them made general chitchat on the drive to meet Pam at a local diner.
When they arrived, the Real Pam was already seated.
Duke immediately clocked the differences between this Pam and the Fake Pam they’d initially met.
This woman was thinner and blonder with a more refined profile and style of clothing than Fake Pam. Every movement seemed somehow heavier—as if her limbs carried invisible weight. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her shoulders slumped beneath her light-weight coat she hadn’t bothered to shrug off.
She stood, and they did quick introductions before sitting and ordering breakfast.
When the waitress left, they started.
“This just isn’t like Gina.” Pam’s voice cracked with every other word. “None of it.”
They’d chosen a small café a few blocks from the hotel—nothing fancy, just scratched wood tables, the hiss of steaming milk, and the comforting smell of coffee strong enough to cut through exhaustion.
Duke welcomed the normalcy. He’d ordered eggs and bacon, something solid, something that anchored him in the present.
Andi had gone with coffee only, her focus already elsewhere.
Pam sat across from them, hands wrapped around a paper cup she hadn’t touched.
Andi angled her chair slightly toward Duke, close enough to feel supportive without crowding him. “The police mentioned that Gina ran away on her own before. Is that true?”
Pam nodded reluctantly. “Yes. But just once—about a year ago. She disappeared for a couple of weeks when she was feeling overwhelmed.”
That tracked. Duke cut into his eggs, listening more than eating, mentally lining the detail up with what he already knew. A one-time flight response wasn’t the same as a pattern.
“Has she been feeling overwhelmed lately?” Andi asked.
Pam shook her head. “No. I mean, the breakup with Colin was hard, but she knew it was the right thing. She and Colin just weren’t good together.” She hesitated.
“But you don’t believe she ran away this time.” Duke kept his tone level as he set his fork down.
“Absolutely not.” Pam shook her head with conviction. “Especially after the break-in. That guy told her he was coming back. I can’t believe the police aren’t taking this more seriously.”
Duke agreed. The warning alone should’ve pushed this out of the missing adult category and straight into active threat. He kept that to himself—for now.
“Do you think the person who did this is just some random sicko?” Pam’s gaze darted between him and Andi, fear sharp and unguarded.
Duke met Andi’s eyes for a beat. They didn’t need words.
“It’s really hard to say,” Andi said, each word carefully chosen. “It’s a possibility. And if that’s the case, it could make finding her more difficult.”
Pam closed her eyes and nodded once. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“We’re planning to stop by her law office next.” Andi kept her voice steady, professional. Overhead, soft instrumental music drifted through the café, the contrast almost jarring. “We want to talk to her coworkers. See if there’s anything that stands out.”
Pam’s eyes flicked up. “Do you think they’ll tell you anything? I left a message for her boss, but she never called me back.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Andi said.
Duke reached into his jacket and pulled out his phone. “There’s something we need to show you.”
Pam stiffened as he turned the screen toward her—the grainy still pulled from the hotel’s security footage.
“This woman approached us,” Duke said. “Claimed to be you.”
Pam stared at the image, her mouth tightening as she leaned closer. Duke watched her carefully—micro-expressions, hesitation, recognition. Or the lack of it.
After a long moment, she shook her head. “I’ve never seen that woman before.”
Duke felt his chest tighten anyway. Not relief. Not confirmation. Just the familiar compression of another door closing.
“You’re sure?” Andi asked.
“I’m sure.” Pam’s voice was steady now, firm in a way that surprised him. Fear hadn’t vanished—but certainty had taken its place.
Duke leaned back slightly, letting the weight of it settle.
Another dead end.
Pam pressed a hand to her mouth, eyes shining with tears. “Please, find my sister. I don’t care who that woman is or why she lied—I just need Gina back before something terrible happens to her. I pray we’re not too late.”
Duke met her gaze and nodded. “We’ll do everything we can.”
He meant the words.
Because someone had gone to great lengths to insert them into this case.
And people didn’t do that for no reason.
Andi and Duke said goodbye and promised to keep Pam updated.
Still, as they walked back to Duke’s SUV, one thought wouldn’t let go.
Who was Fake Pam?
From what they knew so far, the woman didn’t fit anywhere in Gina’s life. She wasn’t family or a friend.
Yet she’d known enough to lie convincingly. That fact disturbed Andi more than anything.
Outside, the San Francisco morning had turned crisp and bright. Andi slid into the passenger seat of their rental and stared out the window as Duke drove, replaying Fake Pam’s face in her mind—grainy, indistinct, impossible to pin down.
“Nothing about Fake Pam makes sense,” Andi murmured.
“Not yet. But she wanted us involved. That part is clear.”
They needed to figure out who she was. But the task felt daunting, especially with the time element at play.
Andi understood contracts. She knew the details of what they’d signed when they’d agreed to do this tour. They legally had to fulfill their obligations.
But something about moving on just felt so wrong.
Twenty minutes later, the law firm of Morrison, Blake, and Associates rose ahead of them—sleek, modern, all sharp lines and confidence.
After a brief explanation at the reception desk, they were shown into a quiet conference room. But when they met with Gina’s supervising partner, she had nothing to offer them. They’d even shown her a picture of Fake Pam, but she hadn’t recognized her.
Their visit was a dead end.
Andi and Duke stepped back into the hallway moments later, and Andi stopped short. “I don’t think Gina’s disappearance has anything to do with her work.”
“I agree.”
“Then why was she taken?” Andi frowned.
“That’s what we need to figure out . . . but my bets are still on Colin.”