Thread of Betrayal (14 page)

THIRTY

We were driving in circles.

We’d relayed the info to Kitting and Anchor that we’d gotten from Aaron Simmons and we’d gone to the intersection where Elizabeth had exited Simmons’ car. There was no smoking gun, no giant clue, no arrow pointing in the direction she’d gone.

It was simply a deserted intersection just before dawn in a coastal town.

So we drove. We dropped Will Thorton back at the Crowne Plaza and returned to the intersection, trying to replicate every possible route, seeing if they led anywhere that might give us some indication as to where Elizabeth might’ve gone. But the longer we drove, the more frustrating it became. The houses in the neighborhoods looked more foreign, the fast-food restaurants more generic and the faces of the people in the middle of the night walking the streets less like Elizabeth’s.

I was tired of staring out the window. My head hurt. It was almost dawn. I hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours since the chase had begun. Wherever she’d gone, it wasn’t where we were looking. We weren’t going to find her.

And then my phone rang.

The ring tone was that of an old rotary telephone, a shrill bell that sounded like it was coming from a phone hung on a wall in a kitchen with a long cord, before the days of cordless phones and cells. The number flashed large on the screen, the entire interior of the car illuminating as the screen lit up. A number with an L.A. area code.

“Right number?” Anchor asked.

I nodded, letting the bells ring in my ears. “Yeah.”

“Wait three seconds, then answer,” he said.

Lauren’s fingers dug into the leather seats.

The seconds ticked away in my head.

One.

Two.

Three.

“Okay, answer,” Anchor said.

I took a deep breath, but couldn’t find any air.

I stuck my finger on the answer button, then touched the speaker button.

I tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“Morgan?” the voice said. “It’s me. Are you there?”

I hadn’t heard her voice in almost a decade, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was Elizabeth’s voice. I knew it as if I’d been speaking to her every day for her entire life. In some ways, maybe I had. But hearing her voice right at that moment confirmed something for me that I’d never, ever let myself believe one hundred percent.

She was alive.

“Morgan? Can you hear me?”

“Elizabeth?” I said, my voice sounding strange and foreign in the interior of the car.

She didn’t say anything.

“Elizabeth, please don’t hang up,” I said. “Morgan is worried about you.”

“Who is this?” she asked, her voice quieter, suspicious.

The answer was so simple. It had never changed for me. But I had to wonder if she would agree with it and I had to force the words out of my mouth.

“I’m your dad,” I said, my eyes blurring. “And I’m here with your mom.”

Anchor reached over the seat and gestured with his hand to keep talking.

“I know you have a million questions,” I said, spitting the words out, not sure I was making sense. “We talked to the Corzines in Minneapolis. We talked to Bryce. We’ve been trying to catch up to you. We’re here in Los Angeles.”

“You’ve been following me?” she asked.

Of all the questions I expected, that wasn’t one I was prepared for and I opened my mouth and nothing came.

“Elizabeth, can you tell us where you are?” Lauren said, her voice taut, hanging by a thread. “We just want to help. You don’t have to be alone.”

“I don’t know you,” she said. “I don’t know you.”

Lauren looked at me, lost as to what to say.

“The Corzines said you found papers about your adoption,” I said. “You weren’t adopted. You were taken from us.”

“What?” Her voice was high-pitched. A little hysterical. “What are you talking about?”

There was no roadmap for this conversation. There were no guidelines. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing, but more afraid to say nothing. I knew she might’ve blocked out whatever had happened to her. I knew it might be hard for her to recall and that maybe she couldn’t. But I also knew we’d spent years trying to get her back and now we had her on the phone and it felt like we could reach out and touch her.

“You weren’t adopted,” I repeated. “You were taken from us. And you may not remember all of it. We still aren’t sure what happened. And right now, it doesn’t matter. What matters is making sure you are safe. We want to help you.”

Anchor again spun his finger in the air, encouraging us to keep her on the line.

“Can you tell us where you are?” I asked. “You shouldn’t be alone out here. We can get you to a hotel. We don’t want to…”

“I was taken from you?” she asked and it sounded like she was crying.

My fingers dug into my thigh. “Yes. From our front yard. Almost ten years ago.”

“Was it here? In California?”

“Yes.”

The line buzzed and I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.

“I thought something happened to you,” she said, her voice breaking. “Or that you gave me away.”

Tears raced down my face and I steadied myself against the car door. “We didn’t, Elizabeth. We didn’t. We wouldn’t. I’ve spent the entire time looking for you. The entire time.”

“I thought you gave me away,” she said again, the words ragged.

“We didn’t. I promise you, we didn’t.”

“I called Morgan,” she said, ignoring what I was telling her. “Why did you answer? You said you were here in California. But she’s in Colorado. How did you answer her phone?”

“We didn’t,” I said, frustrated that I couldn’t give her answers to assure her. “The call was forwarded. Let us come to you. I swear we can explain everything. Let us come get you. We’ll come right now.”

She didn’t say anything. Lauren’s head was thrown back against the head rest, her bottom lip tucked into her mouth, her body shaking as she cried.

“This is…it’s too much,” Elizabeth said.

“Elizabeth, if…”

“My name’s Ellie,” she said, and for the first time I heard anger.

But I couldn’t call her that. It wasn’t the name I’d given her. It had been given to her by people who had ripped her out of our lives. I couldn’t get it to come out of my mouth.

“Just tell us where you are,” I said. “We can take you back to Minneapolis if you want. Whatever you want. But you can’t be out here alone. Let us help you. Please.”

“No,” she said. “No.”

The line went dead.

THIRTY-ONE

“We didn’t get an exact location,” Anchor said.

Lauren and I were sitting there, neither of us moving, both of us still in different stages of shock. At least I was. I couldn’t say for certain for Lauren, but looking at her, her eyes staring straight ahead, her shoulders slumped over, a numb expression on her face, told me we were in similar spots.

Having her hang up might have been the most excruciating moment I’d experienced since the actual day she’d been taken. Like she’d been given back to me, then taken away again. I’d expected her to be confused and wary, but I think that I was convinced I could persuade her to let us come to her. As if there’d be some magical connection between us that would allow her to trust me and all would go back to normal.

Not so much.

“The signal is coming from an area about an hour south of us,” Anchor said, glancing back at his phone. “Sixty miles or so. South Orange County, maybe moving toward San Diego.”

I nodded, if for no other reason than to acknowledge that I hear him.

“You call back, she might answer,” he said.

“She won’t.”

“You don’t wanna try?”

I picked my phone up off my thigh and hit redial. It immediately went to voicemail. I dialed it again and it did the same thing.

I laid it back down on my thigh. “She won’t answer.”

Anchor nodded. “What do you want to do?”

What did I want to do? Quit. Give up. She was never coming back to me. I didn’t want to have my heart ripped out again. She didn’t want to see us. She didn’t believe us. It had all been for naught and maybe doing anything else was just going to make it worse.

But I’d vowed to not quit until I found her, one way or another, and while having her hang up on us was brutal, I didn’t want that to be my last memory of her or the last time I heard her voice. If she really didn’t want anything to do with me, she could tell me to my face.

“Let’s go,” I said. “To wherever the signal is. We’ll just keep following.”

Anchor nodded and started to say something, but Kitting reached over and tapped his arm. Anchor looked at him and Kitting held his phone out. Anchor took it from him and studied the screen for a moment.

Anchor turned and offered Kitting’s phone to me over the seat. “You should see this.”

I stared at him blankly.

He gestured with the phone.

I took it from him.

The screen was open to a news alert. An AMBER Alert.

For Ellie Corzine aka Elizabeth Tyler.

I squeezed the phone tighter.

The alert gave skeleton details on her initial disappearance years ago and focused on the fact that she had been spotted in Los Angeles, specifically LAX. It was active in every Southern California county. Her old photo was attached, along with a more recent photograph, one of her in front of a Christmas tree. My stomach clenched. Anyone spotting her or having information was encouraged to contact the Coronado Police Department, the reporting agency.

“What?” Lauren asked.

“Bazer,” I said through gritted teeth. I handed her the phone.

She stared at it, then looked at me. “Maybe this is good. Maybe this is what we should’ve done before. More eyes and more resources.”

I shook my head and turned to the window. “No.”

“Why not?” she asked. “She hung up on us. We might as well be four states away.”

I laughed and shook my head. “No.”

“Joe? Why not?”

“Because every goddamn law enforcement agency, every goddamn loser home watching TV tonight, every single goddamn person that sees or hears this is now looking for her. And guess what?” I said, looking around the car at each of them. “They aren’t fucking calling us. They’re calling Bazer.”

Anchor and Kitting were stoic in the front seat, showing nothing in their expressions.

Lauren just looked at me like she had no idea what I was talking about. “Yeah. More eyes. More help. We know she’s here. This helps, doesn’t it?”

My phone rang.

I looked down at my leg.

Mike Lorenzo.

I laughed again. Perfect. Just perfect.

I held the phone up for her. “It’s Mike.”

She looked at me like I was crazy. “So? Answer it?”

“Don’t you get it?” I said, my voice rising. “She’s in more danger now. More than ever.”

The phone continued to ring, sounding louder than normal in the interior of the car.

“If I’m right,” I said. “If I’m right about Mike and or Bazer? If they were involved in taking her? Then guess what? They’re looking for her, too. And if they find her first?” I held up the phone and thrust it in her face. “Then she’s in more danger now than ever before.”
 

THIRTY-TWO

“Answer it,” Anchor said. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “I already know what I'm dealing with.”

“Just answer,” he said. “Let’s figure out the what-ifs afterward.”

I shook my head, doubtful that I’d ever see my daughter again.

“Just do it, Joe,” Lauren said.

The ringing pierced the air.

I stabbed my finger at the phone screen and kept it on speaker. “Hi, Mike.”

“Joe, what the hell is going on?” Mike Lorenzo asked. “Bazer had an AMBER Alert issued, claiming Elizabeth’s here in California. What the hell?”

I considered everything for a moment. I’d purposely avoided him for several days, ever since we’d found her. I didn’t trust him anymore, the one person other than Lauren I’d always trusted. I felt like I was talking to a stranger. I’d been purposely vague during our one conversation since we'd left Minneapolis. But I wasn’t sure that there was anything left to protect. If he was involved, then he was just playing me for more information. At that moment, I didn’t have any more than he probably did. If he wasn’t, then he might be able to help us.

“She’s here,” I said. “And so am I.”

“Where? In San Diego? What the hell is going on, Joe?”

“Here’s what I know,” I said.

I told him about tracking her to Denver and then to Los Angeles. I told him where we’d been and who we’d talked to in L.A. I told him about Bazer showing up out of the blue. I told him about talking to her. I told him about having just seen the AMBER Alert.

I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

“Wow,” he said when I finished. “That’s incredible. Okay.”

I wasn’t sure what to say so I didn’t say anything.

“What can I do?” he asked. “How can I help?”

“I don’t really know,” I said. “Look for her, I guess.”

“Well, of course, Joe,” he said. “I guess I just wanted to know if you needed anything. If I can help you.”

“No. Don’t think so.”

“You don’t sound right, Joe.”

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

The line crackled.

“Was it Bazer showing up?” he asked.

“Didn’t help,” I replied. “Didn’t feel right having him show up out of the blue.”

“I wish he’d told me,” Mike said. “I would’ve come up, too. Run interference.”

“He didn’t call you? At all?”

“Joe, first thing I heard of any of this was when the alert just hit. I did a double-take, read it a third time, then called you. I haven’t heard a word from him.”

I stared out the window. If Mike was telling me the truth, it was Bazer. I wanted to trust him. I really did. But there was still the picture from the file that set this all in motion and I couldn’t get past that.

“That’s odd,” I said.

“Yeah. But I’m gonna call him. Now. See what the hell he knows. Then I’ll get back to you. That okay?”

“Sure,” I said.

It was quiet for a moment.

“I know you’re worried, Joe,” Mike finally said. “But if she’s here, we’ll find her. We’ll get her back to both you and Lauren.”

I said thanks and hung up.

Anchor turned around and set his eyes on me. “You trust him?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s Mike,” Lauren said, shaking her head. “I still refuse to believe he had anything to do with this. I trust him. I know you don’t, but I do. I don’t think he’d ever do anything like this.”

I didn’t say anything. She was right. It was still hard to think that Mike could have had any involvement in her disappearance, but I wasn’t willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. Not anymore.

Anchor nodded. “Alright. What would you like to do now?”

“I think you need to know something.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Whoever took our daughter,” I said. “They might’ve been in law enforcement.”

Anchor didn’t say anything, just waited for me to elaborate.

“The man on the phone might’ve been involved,” I continued. “The officer that found us at the hotel earlier might’ve been involved. There may be others. I’m not sure.”

Anchor remained quiet.

“If they get in the way before I get to my daughter or if it all comes out at once,” I said, then paused. “It might get bad. Because I don’t care who they are. If I find out they were responsible, I’ll take them out. And I mean that exactly the way it sounds.” I paused again. “I’m not sure that’s something you’ll want to be involved with and I understand if you don’t.”

Anchor stared at me for a long moment, then turned to Kitting. “Ellis, you have a problem taking out a police officer who kidnapped a young girl?”

“None,” Kitting said.

Anchor nodded, as if that was the answer he expected, then he turned back to me. “I appreciate your candor, Mr. Tyler. But neither Ellis nor myself have a problem with continuing to assist you. Mr. Codaselli has made it very clear that he wishes to repay your help in any way necessary. Whatever you need us to do in order to help you reunite with your daughter we’re happy to do. And we’ll do so to the best of our capabilities.” He smiled and there was a coldness in his eyes that made me thankful he was on our side. “And I mean that exactly the way it sounds.”