Cut and Run(92)

She reached for her cell and found the picture Macy had emailed her. “A picture is worth a thousand words.”

He studied the image and then looked back at her. “This is you.”

“No. It’s Macy Crow,” Faith said softly.

“Faith, this is you.”

“DNA just confirmed we are identical twins,” she said.

“There are two of you?” PJ pressed his fingers to his temple, rubbing them as his father had done when faced with a dilemma.

“I’m as blown away as you are.” She watched him closely, searching for any tells that would hint to lies. He was so much like his father, and she knew behind the easy smiles was a cunning, keen mind. “Have you found anything regarding my adoption?”

“Nothing more than the entries in your father’s datebook. What did you say the FBI agent’s name was?”

“Macy Crow.”

“Crow?”

“Do you know the name?” she asked.

“Captain Hayden asked me about Jack Crow. I had human resources look through the old personnel records, and we did use Crow for a few odd jobs in the mideighties. He was referred to us by Danny Garnet.”

“Do you know what kind of cases Crow was working?”

“Divorce cases mostly. He did surveillance and took pictures that we could use in court. He quit after six months. According to his exit interview, he said it wasn’t the kind of work he wanted to be doing.”

“Have you seen Crow in recent years?” Faith asked.

“I wouldn’t know the man if he walked in the room and shook my hand. And I’m still not sure how all this relates to me.”

As tempted as she was to tell him about the graves in the country, she hesitated. “Slater and McIntyre, specifically your father, represented three women between 1987 and 1990. Their crimes were petty, and soon after they were dismissed, they vanished.”

“I can’t help you. I wasn’t born.”

“But you could pull their client records, couldn’t you?”

“As I told the Rangers, I can, but I won’t. Attorney-client privilege.”

“For your own sake, you should.” She pulled the DNA printouts from her purse and handed him the first.

He read the results, and though he was young, he was proving himself to be a very savvy defense attorney who could pick up technical details quickly.

She pulled out the second sheet of paper. “Marissa Lewis lives in San Antonio and is adopted like me. As it turns out, we are half sisters.”

PJ frowned, and this time when he read the report, he made no comment.

She studied the last sheet before extending it to him. “I also have a half brother.”

He raised his chin but hesitated before he took the paper. This sheet he didn’t read as he had the others.

“You are my half brother,” she said. “According to a DNA test, we share the same father.” The quick DNA test had proved they were half siblings, and PJ’s DNA was not a match to Josie’s. Faith pictured Peter Slater, the portly man with a thick shock of gray hair and a smile that could light up a room.

“I never consented to giving a sample of my DNA.”

She would save this argument for the courts later. Now she just wanted him to hear the truth. “The three girls I mentioned were found in graves out in the country. They’d all been held against their will, and the Rangers believe they were forced to give birth to children before they were killed.”

He set the paper down and shook his head. “No. That’s not correct. My father might have had affairs, but he would never do anything so horrific. He wouldn’t.”

“We are already in the process of testing the mtDNA of these women against mine, Marissa’s, and yours. It’s not as quick a process, but mtDNA will prove or disprove if we are their offspring.”

He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets.

The door to the study opened, and Margaret appeared with a tea cart filled with cups, a fresh pot of coffee, and cookies. “What is going on in here? You two look so serious.”

“It’s nothing, Mother,” PJ said.

Margaret filled a cup and handed it to Faith and then filled another and handed it to PJ. “Faith, my son is overprotective. He thinks I’m fragile china and can’t handle hard news.”

“Margaret,” Faith said. Peter had always protected Margaret, and she’d been happy to live in his shadow and to dedicate herself to him and their son. “It brings me no pleasure to deliver this news.”

“I know, dear. You would never hurt anyone,” she said. She drank her coffee and watched as Faith took a sip of her own.

There was a sharpness in Margaret’s gaze that rivaled the intensity of her late husband’s and son’s. “Maybe I can help this along. Is this about the police officer at the hospital?” Margaret asked. “I know you’ve been visiting her.”

“It turns out, Mother, that the police officer is Faith’s identical twin.”

“A twin? Good Lord, Faith,” Margaret said. “Who hurt that poor woman?”

Faith shifted in her seat, feeling more uncomfortable about this conversation. “The police have a name, but they’re still trying to figure out what motivated him to kill.”

Margaret set her cup down. “Kill. That’s terrible.”