in government in college. There were so many rumors and conspiracy theories about what happened. I keep reading, waiting for something to pop out. It doesn’t take long.
‘Gabriella’s body was buried in a shallow grave in a wooded area on the outskirts of Aspen, Colorado.’
My heart slams against my ribcage, confusion flooding my vision. “It has to be a coincidence. That child was dead.”
Max bobs his head from side to side. “If I remember, the body was burned beyond recognition. They only confirmed it was her because they found pieces of her clothing close to the grave.”
“Correct,” Stone states. “And there were plenty of theories it wasn’t her.”
“So, what? Someone kidnapped her and flew her to an isolated island to keep her hidden?” The outlandish words that fly out of my mouth sound more like plausibility to my ears. Resting both my hands on the countertop, I drop my head between my shoulders. If someone was trying to hide her, taking her to a small South Pacific island isn’t too far-fetched. Aspen’s voice is clear in my mind. “My father is extremely protective. He doesn’t trust anyone.”
The hair on my arms rise. I found a buried treasure. And just like in the movies, messing with it always releases a dangerous storm. What the hell did I do?
“If it’s her,” Max says, emphasis on if, “at least Richard has her. He was the President’s right-hand man. Shit, he was his best friend.”
Stone snaps his fingers at Max. “He was. But most of the conspiracy theories said that it was an inside job. No one’s closer to you than your best friend.”
Hearing what I was thinking makes my fears explode. The situation just took a turn for the worse. She’s the one in danger. And we might have just handed her to her killer.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aspen
My eyes never leave his constant movement. Methodically, he peeks through the thick curtained windows. One by one and then he checks the doors, unlocking and locking them again. Five times now and we’ve hardly been here an hour. Whoever he’s waiting for, he’s nervous.
We traveled by foot for a mile in the freezing cold to the abandoned house in the jungle after we switched cars three times at different locations. Each place deserted and had been for some time, so there was nowhere to run. He had my hands tied, and a gun pointed at me most of the time.
Yet, there’s a small voice inside of me that doesn’t want to run. Like it knows he’s speaking the truth.
His unquestioning confidence that I’m Gabriella is tugging on a string buried deep inside me. Why? Who is Gabriella? And who is Tobias Paul?
“Why did you bring me to the jungle?”
He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “You aren’t in the jungle, Gabriella. More like a forest.” He stops moving and levels his cold ice-blue eyes on mine. They harden looking at me.
I swallow hard at his hatred. “My name is not Gabriella.”
“It was.” A ball of anger knots in my belly, and I want to spit at him. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman. You look just like her.” Her? His eyes roam down my body, making me shudder. “She wasn’t my type, neither are you.”
“Who do you think I am?”
He checks his watch before perching on a barstool across the room as if he’s determined he has time before the monster appears. His fingers clutch the gun as he wistfully stares past me. A blanket of restless unease covers him from head to toe. “Who are you,” he responds, not as a question but more of a statement. “You are the one person who can destroy me.” He waves his gun. “I might as well put this up to my head and pull the trigger.”
“Why don’t you,” I dare him. His eyes flash to mine.
“Because I’m going to make the man who put this in motion, suffer, first.”
“Tobias Paul?” I take a guess.
He nods. “So, you know him?”
“I don’t.”
His lips twist as he studies me. I recognize that look well. My dad would do it when he was trying to figure out if I was lying. More often than not, he was correct, so Richard should be able to see the same thing. I’m not lying. “Where are you from? And who raised you?”
I answer to prove he has mistaken me for the wrong person. “I’m from Tahiti. And my father, Rudy Foley, raised me.”
“And your mother?”
I stuff my feet underneath me, uncomfortable talking about my mom to