realized the eagle looked better when turned on its side. More masculine. Less … water fowl.
I saved the best one and deleted the rest as a car pulled up to the Foster house. A nervous thrill rushed up my spine. I put down my pen and memo pad and took a sip of my whipped mocha latte, forcing myself to calm as I waited to see who was driving the gold Prius. I was spying on the Fosters, who lived in a modest neighborhood in the Northeast Heights, because I’d been asked to by a friend of mine. She was a special agent with the FBI, like her father before her, and this had been his case, one of the few that went unsolved under his watch. I was trying to help her solve it, though solving might be a strong word. If my hunch was correct, and I liked to think it was, I had insider information that my friend’s father was never privy to. Mr. Foster owned an insurance company, and Mrs. Foster ran the office of a local pediatrician. And approximately thirty years ago, their son was taken from them, never to be seen again. I was about 100 percent certain I knew what happened to him.
I eased forward and pressed against the steering wheel, angling for a better look at the driver when my aunt Lil’s voice wafted toward me from the backseat.
“Who’s the hottie?” she asked, her blue hair and floral muumuu solidifying around her as she materialized in my rearview.
I tossed a wink over my right shoulder. “Hey, Aunt Lil. How was your trip to Bangladesh?”
“Oh, the food!” She waved a hand extravagantly. “The people! I was in heaven, I tell ya. Not literally, though.” She cackled in delight at her joke.
Aunt Lil had died in the ’60s, a fact she’d only recently discovered. So, she couldn’t have actually eaten or interacted with the native population. At least, not the living native population. I’d never thought about her visiting the departed when she traveled. Now, that would be fascinating.
She hitched a thumb toward my newest friend and wriggled her penciled brows. “You gonna introduce us?”
The garage door rose and the driver pulled inside but didn’t close the door. It gave me hope. I just wanted a glimpse. A tiny peek.
“He’s not very talkative,” I said, squinting for a better view when the driver’s-side door opened, “but I think his last name is Andrulis. It’s on his tattoo.”
“He’s got some ink?” She leaned forward and spotted Mr. A’s package. It was hard to miss.
“Good heavens,” she said, her eyes rounding in appreciation.
Before I could get a look at the driver, the garage door started closing. “Darn,” I whispered, tilting my head in unison with the descending door until it completely blocked my view.
I’d seen a woman’s foot as she stepped out of the car before the door closed completely. That was about it.
“He’s certainly been blessed,” she said.
I laid my head against the steering wheel and expelled a loud breath as disappointment washed over me. I’d been handed a file that could hold many answers to the puzzle that was Reyes Alexander Farrow, my nigh fiancé, and the Fosters were a big piece of the puzzle. Their first son had been kidnapped while napping in his room. Because there was never a ransom demand and no witnesses, the trail went cold almost immediately despite a massive search and public pleas from the parents. But the FBI agent assigned to the case never gave up. He’d always believed there was more to the case than just a kidnapping. And so did his daughter. We’d worked a couple of cases together in the past. She knew about my rep for solving difficult crimes, and she’d asked me to look at this cold case that had been the bane of her father’s existence.
And that was the day that Reyes Farrow’s kidnapping fell into my lap. He was the child who had been abducted almost thirty years prior. I glanced down at the file stuffed between my seat and the console. So much potential there. So much heartache.
“Don’t you think?”
I blinked back to Aunt Lil. “Think what?”
“That he’s been blessed.”
“Oh, yeah, I do.” I couldn’t help another glance. “But it’s just so … there. So unavoidable.” I tore my gaze away and pointed to his tat. “So, the name Andrulis. Does that ring any bells?”
“No, but I can do some investigating. See what turns up. Speaking of which, I