But I’m lying. The timeline fits too perfectly to ignore.
She disappeared six years ago. Right after she watched me kill Dmitri Petrov. Right after Vance security grabbed her off the street.
If she was pregnant when they took her, the twins would be five now.
The records arrive the next afternoon. Declan brings them to my office in a thick manila folder. “Everything Reese had access to. Property documents, expense reports going back five years, receipts for major purchases.”
I spread them across my desk.
The property lease is first. Emerald Holdings purchased a three-bedroom cottage in Ballycotton, Ireland. The monthly rent paid through an account registered to a law firm in Dublin that handles Vance family business.
Then the expense reports. I lean back in my chair and stare at the receipts.
Two boys. Raised in Ballycotton from birth. Everything is purchased in pairs. Same sizes, same ages, growing up together.
Twins.
Born five years ago.
Ballycotton. The village where I visit my mother. Where I’ve been going every few months for two decades.
She was there the whole time.
My phone buzzes on the desk. I check and see it’s a text from Aurelia:I think I left something at your place the other night. A necklace. Small silver locket. Have you seen it?
I look at my desk drawer where the locket sits. She’s asking about it. Four days later, she finally asks.
I text back:Haven’t seen anything. Did you check your purse?
Her response comes immediately:Yes. I’ve checked everywhere. I must have dropped it.
Want to come by and look for it?
Would that be okay?
Of course. Tonight around 7?
Perfect. Thank you.
I set the phone down and open the drawer. The locket gleams in the overhead lights.
F & L
She’s coming to look for it. And I’m going to watch her search and lie to her face.
She arrives at seven exactly. I buzz her up and open the door before she can knock. She’s in jeans and a sweater, hair pulled back, no makeup.
“Thank you for letting me come search,” she says, stepping inside. “I know it’s a pain.”
“It’s fine. Where do you think you lost it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the bedroom? Or the living room when we were talking?”
“Go ahead and look. I’ll check the kitchen in case the housekeeper moved it.”
She heads toward the bedroom while I walk into the kitchen and call out to Maria, who’s putting away groceries. “Maria, did you find any jewelry when you cleaned the other day? A small necklace?”
“No, Mr. Rourke. I didn’t find anything.”
