Chapter 22

Sarah POV

We went through the front door of Zane’s villa in subdued silence, Agent Travis hardly looking up from his phone and the reports he was getting from the police. Hans met us, took our coats, and said the girls were at art class.

I noticed he looked at me somewhat intensely, then nodded to himself. It reminded me of the way I would look over Chloe when we’d been apart for a few hours, making sure she was OK. I hid a smile. Hans then announced there was a late lunch laid out for us in the kitchen, which I knew meant the informal dining room right next to the kitchen.

Zane Cavendish didn’t eat his luncheon standing over a counter, after all.

The initial idea of food wasn’t appealing, but then I realized I was starving. Along the sideboard were laid out cold meats, cheese, slices of warm bread, and all of what I would have called, had I not been standing in a villa next to an alpha werewolf, the fixin’s of a sandwich.

Agent Travis was more interested in his phone and the files full of printouts he had made in the CSI van before we had left the cottage. He laid them on the table while Zane and I made sandwiches.

“Shall I make one for you as well, Agent Travis?” I asked, hoping Zane would mind that I sounded like I was making myself the hostess.

Travis grunted. I looked to Zane, who smiled and nodded, mouthing, “Thank you.”

Not knowing what the agent would like, I just made two sandwiches the same, roast beef with provolone, lettuce and tomato, mayo and mustard. I set his on a small plate near his spread of reports. While he talked, he ate, and I realized it could have been a sandwich of peanut butter and chalk for all he would have noticed.

“In a typical case involving children,” he began, “the motive is usually the easiest part. With rich parents, it’s ransom, but there was never a ransom demand. With an infant, it’s usually nurture, someone who’s lost a child of their own or can’t conceive their own child.

“This can especially make sense when there is more than one child available, but only one is taken. The thinking is that someone else has two or more babies, I don’t have a baby, so I deserve one of their babies. And again, the fact the parents are economically advantaged can enhance this. So-and-so has everything, I have nothing, so I can take from them and not be a bad person.

“But there’s no nurture here either. Whoever it was seems almost arbitrarily to have taken one girl from a pair of alpha twins from their highly prominent alpha father—an action involving a great deal of risk—and then handed the child over, anonymously at that, to a random human female.”

“Ahem.”

We all looked over to the door, where Hans was standing with a pitcher of water.

“Yes, Hans?” Zane asked.

“I wonder, sir, if we might assume the choice of Miss Sarah was not made at random.”

“What do you mean?” Travis asked.

Hans tilted his head toward me. “Miss Sarah has done an extraordinary job of raising Miss Chloe and has been currently doing equally well in this household, though it must seem quite foreign to her life experience. It would seem quite a coincidence that such a human would have been selected by sticking a pin in a proverbial map.”

My cheeks hot, I put my empty sandwich plate on the sideboard just to have something to do, but when I looked up, Zane was smiling at me. “Hans has a point.”

“And the photos,” Travis said, nodding to himself. “Whoever is behind this shows great concern over Chloe’s welfare. It would make sense they did a background check on you first.”

Travis looked at me. “I mean, you were just about to become a kindergarten teacher. You have certificates in children’s health and education.”

“So this person may not have so much known me as known about me,” I said.

“Yes.” The agent frowned at his phone, reading as he continued. “So the abduction was either quite premeditated, or the person or persons involved have impressive resources at their disposal.”

Hans put the water pitcher on the sideboard. “If I may, sir.”

“Yes, Hans?” Zane asked.

“Misses Grace and Chloe will be returning shortly and will doubtlessly want to see you.” He looked pointedly at the papers on the table.

“Of course. Thank you, Hans.” Zane turned to Travis, who began to put his papers back inside their files.

“One thing seems clear,” Travis said. “The murder of Marshal Kim and the abduction of Chloe must be connected. I’ll see to it the kidnapping case is updated and no longer considered ‘cold.’” He looked at Zane.

“I assume I can tell them you’ll be cooperating with us fully on this, Alpha Zane?”

“Of course.”

Hans saw Travis to the door. Standing there alone with Zane, I felt the walls crowd in a bit, and my neck got a bit warm, but praise the goddess only a few minutes later, still wearing their little matching backpacks, Chloe and Grace ran into the room, the former demanding hugs and kisses and the latter looking like she would not mind either or both herself.

After that, I had fun helping the girls make sandwiches, which unsurprisingly turned out almost exactly the same. Then we sat while Chloe explained in some detail what the art studio had been like, which evidently resembled Heaven in some detail.

After the sandwiches were gone, the girls smiled at each other conspiratorially.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Grace giggled. Zane looked surprised and pleased.

Both girls reached for the backpacks they had set on the floor and opened them up. Grace handed me something wrapped in a red bit of cloth, and Chloe handed me something wrapped in a white cloth. Zane and I exchanged glances, his amused and mine, I’m sure, showing my uncertainty. Then we unwrapped our gifts.

“Oh, this is lovely!” I said, meaning it deeply. Inside the cloth was a smooth, surprisingly delicate bracelet made from a single piece of carved wood. I had read all about werewolf’s adoration of wood carving, one of the most highly esteemed skills in werewolf culture, and the fact that Chloe could make something so lovely amazed me.

“This is lovely, Grace,” Zane said, and I could tell from his voice even before I looked over to his gentled eyes that he had been deeply touched. In his hand was his own bracelet, carved much like mine, though wider and thicker, making it look a bit more masculine.

“Wherever did you find zebrawood?” I asked Chloe.

She beamed at me. “I knew you would recognize it. I saw it on the shelf in the studio and asked if we could use it. Mr. Blightlig said it was from Cameroon, and I could have it if I could point to Cameroon on a map, and I did! So he had to let me have it after that!”

I couldn’t help but pull her into a hug then, telling her how much I loved her and how proud I was of her and how much I adored the bracelet.

“Put it on!” Chloe said, and I realized she was talking to both me and Zane.

I met his amused eyes, then we both put on our bracelets, which fit us perfectly.

“There,” Chloe said with great satisfaction, and I saw Grace smiling shyly but also with pride. “Now you’re marked as a pair, and you’ll both be with me and Grace forever!”

Instinctively, I reached to stroke Chloe’s cheek so I could lean in to tell her quietly that what she was saying wasn’t appropriate, but that we both loved our bracelets and would wear them with joy.

Chloe didn’t like that but then shrugged it off and went to hug Grace, celebrating that their presents had been such a big hit.

For his part, Zane said not a word, which I didn’t like at all. He knew what was at stake here, what was and what wasn’t possible. It was he, not I, who should correct his daughters. What if Chloe said something like that in front of the wrong person?

What would people think?