“Considering we were identical twins, I’m somehow not surprised.” Alex managed to keep her voice level, but it took effort. “Agent Vartanian, is that woman Bailey or not?”

He toyed with his pencil in a way that made Alex want to leap across his desk and rip it from his hands. Finally he spoke. “She isn’t blond and she doesn’t have a tattoo.”

The relief left her light-headed and Alex fought to quell the tears that suddenly threatened. When she was back in control, she slowly exhaled and looked at him. But he didn’t look as relieved as she felt.

“It can’t be Bailey, then,” she said evenly.

“Tattoos can be removed.”

“But there will be some physical scarring left behind. Your ME can check this.”

“And I’ll make sure that she does,” he said in a way that told Alex his next words would be a promise to call her when he knew something. She didn’t want to wait.

Alex lifted her chin. “I want to see her. The victim. I need to know. Bailey has a child. Hope needs to know. She needs to know her mother didn’t just abandon her.” Alex suspected Hope knew exactly what had occurred, but she kept that to herself.

Vartanian shook his head, although his eyes had softened to something approaching sympathy. “You can’t see her. She was badly beaten. She isn’t recognizable.”

“I’m a nurse, Agent Vartanian. I’ve seen dead bodies before. If it’s Bailey, I’ll know. Please. I need to know one way or the other.”

He hesitated, then finally nodded. “I’ll call the ME. She was supposed to start the examination at about ten, so we should be able to catch her before she begins.”

“Thank you.”

Monday, January 29, 9:45 a.m.

“This is our viewing room.” Dr. Felicity Berg stood aside as Daniel followed Alex Fallon through the door. “If you’d like to sit down, please do.”

Daniel watched Alex Fallon take in the room with a sweeping glance. Then she shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll stand,” she said. “Is she ready?”

She was a cool one, Miss Alex Fallon. And she’d given him the shock of his life.

It’s her, was all he’d been able to think when she’d looked up into his face. He felt lucky he hadn’t embarrassed himself more than he had. When she’d said he looked like he’d seen a ghost, she’d hit the nail on the head. His heart was still unsteady when he looked at her, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

When he really looked at her, he could see she was different from the smiling photo of her sister. She was thirteen years older, but that wasn’t it. There was something different in her eyes. They were whiskey-colored, identical to her sister’s, of course. But the laughter he’d seen in Alicia Tremaine’s eyes was nonexistent in Alex Fallon’s.

She’d been through trauma, thirteen years ago and again now, so perhaps her eyes had once held mischief and fun. But now Alex Fallon was cool and collected. He’d witnessed brief spurts of emotion-fear, anger, relief, all quickly controlled. Watching her stand before the curtained window, he wondered what was going through her mind.

“I’ll go check,” Felicity said and closed the door behind her, leaving them alone.

Alex stood quietly, her arms at her sides. But her hands were clenched into fists and Daniel fought the urge to pry her fingers apart.

She was a beautiful woman, he thought, finally able to look at her without her watching him in return. Her eyes had rattled him, as if she’d seen more than he’d wanted her to. Her lips were full but unsmiling. She was slender, but her sensible black suit still hinted of curves beneath. Her hair was the same dark caramel color as her sister’s and it fell midway down her back in waves, thick and sleek.

Because the thought of touching her hair, of caressing her cheek… because the thought had actually entered his mind, Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets. She flinched when he moved. She’d been aware of him, even if she hadn’t been looking at him. “Where do you live, Miss Fallon?”

She turned, just enough so that she could see over her shoulder. “ Cincinnati.”

“Where you’re a nurse?”

“Yes. I work in the ER.”

“Tough job.”

“As is yours.”

“You don’t use the name Tremaine.”

A muscle moved in her throat as she swallowed. “No. I had it changed.”

“When you got married?” he asked and realized he was holding his breath.

“I’m not married. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle after my sister died.” Her tone dared him to push further, so he turned the conversation a different way.

She wasn’t married. It didn’t matter. But it did. Deep down, he knew that it mattered very much. “You said your stepsister has a child. You called her Hope.”

“Yes. Hope is four. Social Services found her hiding in a closet Friday morning.”

“The locals think Bailey abandoned her daughter?”

Her jaw tightened, as did her fists. Even in the dim light, he could see her knuckles whiten. “That’s what they think. Hope’s teachers said Bailey would never have left her.”

“So you came straight down to take care of the child?”

She did look at him then, straight and long, and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to look away if he’d tried. Alex Fallon had an inner strength, a purpose… whatever it was, it demanded his attention. “Yes. Until Bailey’s found. One way or another.”

He knew it was a bad idea, nevertheless he took her hand and uncurled her fingers. Her neat, unpolished nails had left deep gouges in the tender flesh of her palm. Gently he rubbed the creases with his thumbs. “And if Bailey’s never found?” he murmured.

She looked down at his hands holding hers, then back up to meet his eyes, and his nerves fired in a chain reaction that seemed to singe his skin. There was a connection here, a tie, an affinity that he’d never experienced before. “Then Hope will be my child and she’ll never be alone and afraid again,” she said quietly but resolutely, leaving no doubt in his mind that she would keep her promise.

And suddenly he was swallowing hard. “I hope you get closure, Miss Fallon.”

The grim line of her mouth softened, not a smile, but still softer. “Thank you.”

He held her hand another few seconds, then released her as Felicity came back in.

Felicity glanced from Daniel to Alex Fallon, her eyes narrowing slightly. “We’re ready, Miss Fallon. We won’t show you her face, all right?”

Alex Fallon nodded. “I understand.”

Felicity pulled the curtain about two-thirds of the way across. Malcolm Zuckerman was on the other side of the glass. Felicity leaned into the speaker. “Let’s begin.”

Malcolm pulled the sheet to the side, revealing the right side of the victim.

“Agent Vartanian said your stepsister had a tattoo,” Felicity said quietly. “I checked myself and saw no scarring. There’s no evidence there was ever a tattoo on that ankle.”

She nodded again. “Thank you. Can he show me the inside of her arm?”

“I didn’t see evidence of needle scarring, either,” Felicity said as Malcolm complied.

Her shoulders finally relaxed and she trembled visibly. “It’s not Bailey.” She met Daniel’s eyes and in hers he saw a raging combination of sympathy, regret, and relief. “You still have an unidentified victim, Agent Vartanian. I’m sorry about that.”

He smiled, but sadly. “I’m glad it’s not your stepsister.”

Felicity pulled the curtain back over the window. “I’ll be starting the autopsy in a few minutes, Daniel. Should I wait for you?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. Thanks, Doc.” He waited until Felicity was gone, then stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Alex Fallon still trembled and he was tempted to pull her against him and hold her until she put her public face back on. “Are you all right, Miss Fallon?”

She nodded unsteadily. “Yes. But Bailey’s still missing.”

He knew what she was asking. “I can’t help you find her.”

Her eyes flashed. “Why not?”