Ursula stood there, her mouth gaping open. Blake was behind her.
“That’s not true!” She rushed into the room and rounded the desk, then repeated her words when she stared at Cain on the screen. “It’s a lie.”
Oliver sensed her distress, but didn’t dare put a soothing hand on her arm. “Are you sure, Cain?” he asked instead, forcing his voice to remain calm, despite the storm raging inside him.
“Sorry, but yes.” He held up a few sheets of paper. “It’s in the police report. Apparently they found a note written by Ursula.”
Shock rolling off her in spades, Ursula leaned toward the computer. “I never wrote a note! There was no note!”
“That’s not all,” Cain continued. “The report says that you and your parents had a big fight days before your disappearance.”
Ursula jerked back, and Oliver noticed how she flinched. “But . . . ” She hesitated, looking down to him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I . . . it was all a big misunderstanding. I was stressed out about my exams. I didn’t mean to quarrel with them.”
Her eyes begged him for understanding, and his heart broke for her.
The clearing of a throat came from the speakers. “The evidence the police found, the note, a piece of your clothing on a pier in Manhattan . . . they concluded that you cracked, that you couldn’t take it. It was ruled a suicide.”
A sob tore from Ursula’s chest. Oliver noticed her grip the edge of the desk for support and jumped up, catching her before her knees buckled.
“My parents think I’m dead?” she sobbed. “No. No, please, no.”
Oliver looked back toward the screen. “Thanks, Cain. I’ll call you back later.”
Then he led Ursula to the Chesterfield sofa that stood below the window and lowered her down, taking a seat next to her without releasing her from his arms.
Her tears were only interrupted by frantic gulps for air, which resulted in even louder sobs. He’d never seen a woman cry like this.
“They think I’m dead,” she repeated over and over again.
Oliver stroked his palm over her hair and pressed her head against his chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Please believe me,” she whispered barely audible.
“I do. I believe you.”
His doubts about her story had evaporated the moment she’d cried out after finding out that everybody believed her dead. Her reaction had been instantaneous and pure. She hadn’t faked her death and run away. Whoever had kidnapped her, had done that to stop her parents and the police from looking for her. He had no doubts about that now.
“My parents,” she sniffed. “I have to let them know I’m alive.”
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it. But you’ll need to give me some time. If your kidnappers took such pains to make you disappear, I wouldn’t put it past them to watch your parents now that you escaped. They must anticipate that your parents will be the first people you’ll contact. I want to make sure nobody is tapping their phone or intercepting any communications to them.”
“But, you don’t understand! They must be hurting. I have to tell them I’m still alive.” She stared at him with a look that could squeeze blood from a stone.
“Oliver is right,” Blake said from the door. “Not just for your safety, but also for theirs. What if they threaten your parents if they have reason to believe they know where you are?”
The words seemed to sink in, because finally Ursula nodded. But it didn’t diminish the pain that was etched on her face.
“I’ll arrange for our office in New York to send somebody to Washington and check out the situation. If everything is clear, we’ll arrange for you to speak to them. I promise you,” Oliver said.
It was a promise he was determined to keep.
15
“You’d better be right about this,” Zane warned.
Oliver squared his shoulders and lifted his chin slightly. They stood next to Zane’s Hummer which was parked outside of Oliver’s house. The sun had set only a half hour earlier.
“She’s telling the truth. You have to believe her.”
“I don’t have to do anything. The only reason I’m even authorizing this is because the whole story intrigues me.”
“If Gabriel were here, he would—”
“But he isn’t here,” Zane cut him off. “I’m in charge right now. And I expect my orders to be followed.”
Oliver bit back his next remark. Zane could be such an asshole sometimes. And now that he was subbing for Gabriel, who was visiting Scanguards’ New York headquarters to assure himself that