Chapter Three
Livvy stared at the words. And stared.
They carved into her like a blade—deep, sharp and unrelenting. Each one stripped away her breath, pressing on her chest until it felt like her lungs might cave in.
But she wouldn’t let the crushing weight break the surface. Wouldn’t give whoever wrote it that kind of power.
Not now. Not ever.
She locked her jaw, forced her spine straight as she repeated the message to herself: Test it, Deputy Oakley. You’ll find Livvy’s fingerprints on it. Maybe now she’ll confess to everything she’s done.
The taunt hit like a punch, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Because she didn’t just see a threat scrawled on that paper. She saw a challenge.
And she’d meet it head-on.
“Send it to the lab,” Livvy insisted once she was able to gather enough breath to speak.
She turned to Grace, trying to let her boss see that while she was shaken, she was also determined to get to the bottom of this. Someone was clearly trying to rattle her or attempting to set her up for something, and Livvy wasn’t just going to roll over and let that happen.
“I’ve never seen that knife before,” she insisted.
It was the truth. Well, the truth as she knew it anyway.
It was possible the knife was hidden in those blank spots in her memories.
But Livvy knew for a fact that she didn’t consciously recall seeing it.
And she was certain that she would have remembered.
The knife was distinctive with its bone handle that had an eagle carved into it.
Grace gave a slight nod, and while Livvy thought her boss believed her about not having ever seen the knife, Grace was no doubt assessing how to deal with this. Livvy spoke up, eager to try to keep herself involved in this investigation.
“Please don’t make me sit out this case,” she said, trying to look and sound as if this hadn’t gotten to her.
“I can help. In fact, I should help. If that woman died because of something that happened in my past, then I need to confront it head-on.” She had to take a deep breath before she added, “And maybe the investigation will finally trigger the memories.”
She wasn’t at all certain she wanted that, but if these blank spots could solve a murder, then it had to be done. Until now, that amnesia was only affecting her and those who got caught up in her night terrors. However, if it was allowing a killer to go free, then the remembering had to be done.
Of course, the therapists and treatments over the years had all failed.
But again, the stakes weren’t as high as they were now.
The memories could be crucial to catching a killer.
And to clearing her own name since it was obvious that someone was trying to set her up with these blasted notes and the knife.
“Ethan and I can do this interview at New Hope,” Livvy went on.
But then she paused and shifted to Ethan to make sure that interview was okay with him. After all, New Hope might trigger some bad memories of Isabel since she’d visited there.
He studied her much as Grace had done, his gaze sliding over her face. No heat this time around. None of that unwanted attraction. Just a cop’s assessment to make sure she was up to this.
Ethan finally nodded. “Yes, Livvy and I can go to New Hope.”
Grace took a moment, then another, before she spoke. “All right, go, but if at any point you sense you’re in danger, get the hell out of there.”
Livvy had already considered the possibility of danger, but it was a jolt to hear it spelled aloud.
It was indeed possible that someone wanted to hurt her or worse.
That could be what these taunting notes were about.
Still, if the person wanted her dead, then all he or she had needed to do was hang around that abandoned house and shoot her when she stepped from the cruiser.
Definitely not a comforting thought, but it was the truth. She would have had no idea that something like that was coming.
“Go,” Grace finally said, “and on the drive over, run a background on New Hope. Let me know if any red flags pop.”
“Will do,” Ethan assured her.
They didn’t waste any time heading out to the cruiser. As usual, she drove, and with Ethan at shotgun, he immediately took out his phone, no doubt to start that search on New Hope.
“I’m taking you at your word,” he said, “that you’re okay with doing this.”
“I am. I’m taking you at your word, too.”
“Good. Because we have a killer to catch,” Ethan was quick to say. “New Hope,” he went on a moment later, reading from his phone. “Established nearly forty years ago.”
She hadn’t known it’d been around that long, and since it wasn’t exactly on the beaten path, Livvy hadn’t even seen the place.
“Here’s their mission statement,” he continued a moment later.
“‘At New Hope, we are committed to empowering women on their journey to parenthood. Through compassionate care and personalized treatment plans here at our residential facility, we strive to provide hope and support to every individual or family facing fertility challenges.’”
“‘Personalized treatment plans,’” she repeated. “Impressive sounding while also being vague. Does it say specifically what they offer?”
He scrolled through the screen and shook his head.
Ethan also gathered his breath. “But I remember Isabel saying it wasn’t actually fertility treatments.
More like nutrition and exercise plans. The residential facility part was emphasized though.
They want couples to actually live there while trying to conceive. ”
“Not very convenient,” she muttered. “And it sounds expensive.”
“It is,” he assured her. “Not just for the stay and treatment but also for a surrogacy option.”
“Surrogacy?” she questioned.
“Gestational surrogacy,” Ethan provided. “The embryo of the couple implanted into a surrogate. That option requires at least one member of the couple and the surrogate to live at New Hope until the birth of the baby.”
“Good grief,” Livvy muttered. “That seems strict.”
He made a sound of agreement. “And from what I gathered from Isabel, most clients ended up going the surrogacy route.”
So, the place was making a fortune. Maybe. It was also possible they didn’t get many clients.
“The director of New Hope is Chloe Voss,” Ethan continued, reading from his phone. “Age fifty-eight. A nurse practitioner and nutritionist. No criminal record. Divorced.” He paused. “No kids, which could mean…nothing, I suppose.”
True. It was possibly Chloe simply hadn’t wanted children, but then it seemed somewhat of an unusual career choice to run a facility dedicated to conception and childbirth. Still, helping others conceive a child didn’t necessarily mean that you wanted them yourself.
“Her parents started New Hope,” Ethan added a moment later, “and Chloe took over as director when her parents died about a decade ago. Her brother, Franklin, is a doctor at New Hope.”
Livvy was processing all that info when her phone rang, and since it was already linked with Bluetooth, she saw the name on the dash screen.
And she groaned.
Because it was Dr. Millie Burnette. Her obstetrician. Definitely not a conversation she wanted to have with Ethan around, since he’d just been talking about Isabel. Still, this could be important, so she used hands-free and took the call.
“Livvy,” the woman immediately greeted. Not the doctor but rather her nurse. “This is Delia at Dr. Burnette’s office. We need to reschedule your ultrasound appointment and wondered if you could come in tomorrow at one?”
“Sure,” Livvy said without even knowing what was on her calendar. But she didn’t want to prolong this chat.
“Great. We’ll see you then, and just remember—tell your technician if you don’t want to know the gender of the baby.”
“All right. Thanks,” she blurted. Her tone must have conveyed to the nurse that this wasn’t a good time for a chat because Delia said a friendly goodbye and ended the call.
“You don’t have to go with me,” Livvy offered.
“I’ll go,” he snapped.
Speaking of tones, his conveyed what she’d thought it would.
Ethan wasn’t happy about this appointment, but he would absolutely go just as he’d done with all her other ones.
And his gruff voice and expression had nothing to do with his feelings for their baby.
He loved this child. Livvy knew that. But with love came guilt, and Ethan was practically drowning in it.
It was the same for Livvy.
Isabel had been her friend, too, and it felt like a betrayal to have slept with Ethan. At least now it did. At the time, with the heat and need dictating, well, everything…being with him had felt like a necessity.
Thankfully, Ethan and she didn’t have to discuss the appointment or anything else because Livvy took the turn to New Hope. The place wasn’t visible from the main road, but once she got past massive groves of pecan and oak trees, she spotted the house.
It wasn’t a modern-looking clinic but rather a sprawling Victorian house. It had obviously been well maintained with its yellow exterior and white shutters. That applied to the yard, too, which looked like something right out of an English gardening magazine.
Even though it was practically winter, there were clay pots filled with colorful flowers on the wraparound porch.
Plenty of seating, too, with carefully arranged wicker rocking chairs.
It looked welcoming and peaceful, which was no doubt a necessity to appeal to the wealthy clients who might end up staying here.
Livvy studied the house and grounds to see if anything felt familiar. It didn’t. Not like that feeling she’d gotten at the abandoned house where they’d found Zadie. She had that sickening déjà vu there.
“No vehicles in sight,” Ethan commented, drawing her attention back to him.
Yes, and that added to the picture-perfect look of the place. Livvy spotted a large barn, also well kept, at the back of the house and figured that it might be used as a garage.