Griff sputtered a laugh. “How do you figure that?”

Pierce’s eyes were dark with emotion. “Do you think that’s Brian Arlington sitting up there at the dinner table right now?”

Griff hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“I do. No way in hell is that Brian.”

“Yeah, but you always think that, Pierce.”

Pierce snorted. “And I’m always right. And I’m right this time too.”

“Based on what?” Griff wasn’t sure if his impatience was for Pierce or himself for privately agreeing with Pierce. “He looks like an Arlington. He’s got those eyebrows and those blue eyes. He’s got Tiny Teddy.”

“You look like an Arlington. Dark eyebrows with blond hair are not that rare.”

“Is he willing to take a DNA paternity test?”

Pierce’s face changed. “He said he’ll think about it. Jarrett says no.”

“What? Why?”

Pierce shook his head. It was the first time Griff had ever seen him look so...dispirited. “Because Jarrett wants to believe,” Pierce said wearily. “He’s convinced his time is running out, and he wants to live long enough to see Brian come home. Even if he has to accept an imposter.”

“Jarrett never said that.”

“No, but that’s what it amounts to. He’s been disappointed so many times, he’s not willing to risk it again. He swears this is Brian. That he can feel it’s Brian.”

That shook Griff. “Maybe it is Brian.”

Pierce shook his head. “It’s not. I would know if he was Brian.”

Griff considered this. Considered Diana’s poignant revelations over their lunch together. If anything, he’d expect Pierce to leap at the chance of accepting Brian was safely returned. Wouldn’t that be a huge burden of guilt lifted from his shoulders?

He asked slowly, “How would you know? How would your feelings, your instinct be any more reliable than Brian’s family?”

The line of Pierce’s jaw was stubborn. You could break a fleet of warships against that jawline. “I think I would feel something for him. I think I would feel some sense of recognition.”

Griff shook his head. “Come on, Pierce. More than his own flesh and blood? That’s illogical. Besides, Brian was four years old. What is it you think you would remember or recognize? And how do you explain Tiny Teddy?”

“I don’t know.”

“If he’s willing to take a DNA test—”

“Being willing to think about it is not the same thing as taking the test.”

True. Brian could indefinitely stall that test, especially if the only one pushing for it was Pierce, and that seemed to be the case from what he’d observed in the drawing room. Okay, Chloe would probably think a paternity test was a great idea. She wasn’t too thrilled with recent developments. But Chloe was so hostile to Michaela that her resistance to Brian might stem solely from Michaela’s acceptance.

Griff said, “The others believe it’s Brian too.”

“I know.” Pierce gnawed on his lip. “That’s what really puzzles me. Jarrett, I understand. Finding Brian has been a lifelong crusade. But the others...they’ve always believed Brian was dead. Hell, Gemma believed Brian was dead. They’ve always rejected the other imposters out of hand.”

“She said she knew she’d never see him again. That’s not necessarily the same thing.”

Pierce looked at him in puzzlement. Griff said, “I’ve read Gemma’s journal. In fact, I’ve practically memorized the months following Brian’s kidnapping. She never actually used the word dead.”

If anything Pierce looked more perplexed, and Griff said awkwardly, “Not that that really means anything. In fact, now I’m not sure what my point was.”

Pierce turned to the arched window and stared out at the bluing twilight. “Do you think that’s Brian up at the house?” He turned from the window and stared at Griff.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

“Do you?”

Griff sighed. “No.”

Pierce smiled. It was not one of his more pleasant smiles. “Good. I want you to help me prove he’s a fake.”

He was serious. “One of us is crazy,” Griff said. “He bears a striking resemblance to you.”

“You’re an investigative journalist, right? This is what you do?”

The image of Pierce shouting at him in his office that afternoon returned to Griff. He said shortly, “Is it?”

“Isn’t it?”

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m about to be chucked out of here on my ear.”

“I noticed,” Pierce said. “Brian can’t get you out of here fast enough, which is something else I find suspicious.”

“Not so long ago you couldn’t get me out of here fast enough. Why the sudden change?”

Pierce shrugged. “I have changed. Isn’t that good enough?”

“Not really. No.”

“All right. I’ll be honest. You didn’t add up. You still don’t add up. But I accept that your intentions are sincere. And I’ve got bigger problems than you right now.”

“Jeez. Thanks!”

Pierce’s expression altered, seemed almost to soften. “You had a panic attack over a teddy bear,” he said. “If you think that doesn’t set off a few alarm bells, think again. But you—”

“It wasn’t over Tiny Teddy,” Griff interrupted. “It was an anxiety attack over them pulling the plug on my project. That’s all. I’ve worked hard on this.”

“Exactly,” Pierce said smoothly. “Why should all the time and hard work you’ve put in be wasted? You’ve devoted how much time to this story already? You probably know more about Brian and his case than anyone. There is no one better positioned to check out this Leland Alvin’s background.”

Griff regarded Pierce grimly. “Why?” he asked finally. “Why do you care so much? If it makes Jarrett happy, if it makes them all happy to believe this guy is Brian, then what does it matter? You can’t really believe some outdated bullshit about aristocratic bloodlines and rules of inheritance?”

“Bullshit?” Pierce raised his brows. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before. You really are the budding young Marxist, aren’t you?”

“Answer me.”

Pierce looked away. Griff thought he wasn’t going to reply, but then he said, quietly, “There are things I would undo if I could. But I can’t. One thing, the only thing, I can do for Brian is to make sure no one...takes his place.”

It touched Griff more than he expected. He said, “Pierce, wherever Brian is, it doesn’t matter to him. He doesn’t care.”

“It matters to me.” Pierce’s voice was gruff. He drew a deep breath. “So. Are you in or out?”

Good question. Which was it? If he sided with Pierce in this matter, he would lose any chance of Jarrett supporting him over Stranger on the Shore. But that ship had probably sailed anyway, given Brian’s—Leland’s—opposition to the book.

Regardless of the outcome, this investigation would make a great story. This could provide the focal point he had been looking for but failed to find when he’d interviewed Johnson. But that wasn’t really the main thing anymore.

The main thing was, while in theory it shouldn’t matter if the Arlingtons were happy believing Leland was Brian, in practice it bothered Griff very much that—if Leland was a fake—he was taking advantage of Jarrett’s longing for his lost grandchild. He was fond of Jarrett and he didn’t want him used by someone that criminal, that callous, that cold-blooded.

Pierce was still watching him with that narrow-eyed intensity.

Griff said, “Where do we start?”

* * *

“How do you think he got hold of Tiny Teddy?” Griff asked.

He and Pierce had settled in the kitchen of the guest cottage. Griff had found fixings for chicken and mushroom hash in the well-stocked fridge, throwing together a quick meal while they talked over their plan of attack. Now they were eating and making notes.

Pierce took a bite, chewed, swallowed, said, “First of all, there’s nothing to say that bear was Tiny Teddy.”

“I’m sure it was.” Pierce gave him an odd look. These days he was getting that look a lot from Pierce. Griff qualified, “Going by the photos I’ve seen.”