We followed her around a corner, stopping at glass double doors that opened to a large corner office with windows on both sides.
Directly across from us, in front of the wall of windows, a woman in a white leather office chair sat behind a white marble desk, focused on her desktop computer. She wore a white dress with a V-neck. I knew she was in her fifties, but I never would have guessed. With her smooth face and immaculate makeup, she looked to be in her early forties, at most. In fact, she hadn’t changed much since I’d last seen her seventeen years ago, and I wondered if her cosmetics company had found the fountain of youth.
Then I realized that instead of feeling overjoyed at potentially finding an ally in my fight against my father, I was leery. I couldn’t fathom why.
“Ms. Olson,” Sydney said in a cheerful tone. “Your eleven o’clock appointment is here.”
Tiffany kept her gaze on her computer. “Please come in.”
I hesitated at the door, my heart pounding, but Marco waited for me to walk into the room before striding toward her desk and extending his hand.
“Ms. Olson, I’m Deputy Marco Roland. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.”
She looked up and gave him a polite smile, then shook his hand over her desk without getting up from her chair. It seemed like she was purposefully establishing who really ran the show. I needed to keep that in mind as we talked to her.
I walked closer to Marco but stopped partway into the room, about ten feet behind him and to the side.
“Deputy Roland,” Tiffany said in a congenial tone that reminded me of the one my mother had used when she was unhappy with someone but felt obligated to be polite “I confess I’m curious as to why an Eastern Tennessee deputy is here about a Texas case.”
“I’ll be happy to clear that up.” He glanced back at me. “This is . . .” His voice trailed off as he met my gaze and held it, letting me decide which name to give her.
She took me in, and then her mouth dropped open. “You look just like . . .”
“Mary Caroline Henderson,” I said. “But I knew her as Mary Blakely.”
She got to her feet and pressed her hands to her chest.
“Caroline?” she asked in a gasp that made it obvious she never opened that email.
I nodded, and she rushed around the desk, hurrying toward me. She started to cry as she engulfed me in a tight hug.
“I thought you were dead.”
“Alive and well,” I said, surprised that I felt nothing. No happiness. No sorrow. Nothing. My past and my present were colliding, and every emotion in me had bled out. What was wrong with me?
“Where have you been?” She released me and turned to look at Marco. “Is she in trouble? Is that why you’re here? Why didn’t you tell me this was about Caroline?” The last sentence was an accusation.
Marco glanced from me to Tiffany. “We decided it was best to use discretion.”
“I sent you an email,” I said lamely.
She shook her head. “I never got it.”
“I only sent it yesterday,” I said. “I used the email address on your website.”
She looked horrified. “I have someone who screens my email. I’ll talk to her immediately.”
“Honestly, I figured it was a long shot to reach you that way. Marco decided we should take a more direct approach.”
She turned her attention to Marco, giving him a closer perusal. “And you’re from Eastern Tennessee?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, clasping his hands together in front of him.
She turned back to me. “Caroline, how did you end up in Tennessee? Your father is worried sick. Why haven’t you reached out to him?” Her eyes flew wide. “Were you kidnapped? Were you just rescued?”
I stared at Marco, hoping he’d take the lead like he’d said, since I had no idea what to say.
“Ms. Olson,” he said, giving me a worried look. “Why don’t we all sit down? I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Questions for me?” she asked in surprise. “I don’t understand.” Her face shuttered. “Should I contact my attorney?”
Her attorney?
“You are well within your rights to ask your attorney to be present,” Marco said patiently. “But I assure you, we don’t suspect you of any wrongdoin’. We were just hopin’ to ask you some questions about Ms. Blakely’s mother.”
Her eyes widened in shock, likely from the topic he wanted to discuss, but a