"They apparently went to a nominated guardian."
"Who was?"
Trista paused, and the sound of flicking paper came down the phone line. “Jina Hawkins. Hawkins was Frankie's mother's maiden name."
He frowned. The name rang a distant bell. He'd heard it before, not so much connected to Rosehall but to Jontee himself. “So she was Frankie's half sister?"
"Apparently, though she never lived with her mom and Frankie's dad."
"Bryton tell you much about Jina?"
"Not really. Apparently she was thirteen years older than Frankie, and her mother would never tell anyone who her father was. Whether Jina knew is anyone's guess. She left the place when she graduated, and she hasn't been seen at the reservation since."
"So how did they find her to relocate the kids?"
"Bryton didn't know, but he's going to ask around."
"Good. Do a check through the system and see if you can find anything our end. And while you're there, do a check on Anni Jenkins, Anni Hawkins and a Lana Lee.” He gave her all the spellings.
"Anni Hawkins any relation to Jina Hawkins?"
"That's one of the things I need to find out."
"Who are the others?” she asked.
"Maybe more pieces of the puzzle.” He shoved the papers and notebooks back into the drawer and closed it. “Don't suppose you or Anton have had a chance to look into James Oliver?"
"There's nothing out of the ordinary yet."
"What about banking records?"
"Again, there's nothing unusual so far.” She paused. “It would be quicker to do it through official channels."
"And maybe stir up a hornet's nest for no reason? No thanks.” Besides, maybe there was nothing to find. His intuition might not be wrong often, but that didn't mean it couldn't be this time. “Oh, and check this number for me.” He grabbed the scrap of paper and read out the phone number. “Let me know who or what that belongs to."
"Will do."
She hung up, and he shoved the phone back into his pocket. He scanned the area to ensure everything was back in place, then picked up the two bits of paper and retreated. Vannah was dressed and brushing her hair in the kitchen by the time he got back up to her apartment.
"Anni's not downstairs.” His boot heels echoed against the wooden floorboards as he made his way across the room. “And there doesn't seem to be anything out of place in the shop."
"I figured as much.” She picked up the coffee pot with her free hand. “Coffee?"
"Yes, thanks.” He grabbed the brush from her and began to run it through the wet silk of her hair. Her sigh was filled with contentment. He wished there was a mirror close so he could see her face, see the sweet half-smile that always curved her lips whenever he'd done this at Rosehall. “What do you know about Anni Jenkins?"
She shrugged. “Not a great deal. We do the inane chat thing whenever we see each other, but it never goes beyond that."
"Do you have any idea why Lana Lee would send a note to Anni Jenkins but address it as Anni Hawkins?"
"No. But Lana had to be at least one-fifty. Always possible her memory was going.” She paused. “What did the note say?"
"It was a demand for rent or she'd report Anni to the police."
"Odd for her to say police rather than rangers."
"Exactly what I was thinking. Maybe the old girl knew something about Anni that we don't. Maybe that's the reason Lana died in your suspicious fire."
"What date was the letter?"