Cassie Miles - Mommy Midwife

He glanced over at her. “I can’t force you to talk to me, but it’s important for us to figure out who’s after you. Anything you can remember might be helpful.”

“You’re right,” she admitted in a small voice. “I hate that you’re right, but you are.”

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be shocked.”

She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Do you think there’s a connection between the kidnapping when I was a child and what’s happening now?”

“I don’t know.”

She turned away from him with her face in shadow. If he could have seen her expression, he’d have had a better idea of what was going on in her head. Either she would decide to trust him with her secrets or she’d keep that door closed. He hoped for the former.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she said. “When you think of being held captive, it seems like a horror story. But it wasn’t.”

He said nothing, not wanting to interrupt her fragile narrative. There were more vehicles on the road to Keystone, both coming and going. He kept careful watch in the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being tailed.

“Our family was stationed in a South American country,” she said. “I don’t even remember which one. I was only seven, and life was kind of a blur, living in one place after another. My sister was four and she was with the nanny all the time. I had more freedom. Our residence was a square with a patio and garden in the middle, which was where I spent most of my time. We had servants, and I played with their kids. Though I wasn’t aware of learning the language, I spoke Spanish as often as English.”

As she continued, her voice became more sure and steady. They were only a few minutes away from their destination, and he decided to prolong their trip so she’d keep talking. He cranked the steering wheel, and the rented SUV made a sharp left.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “This isn’t the way to Keystone.”

“I’m doubling back to make sure we aren’t being followed.”

Her slender hand rested atop her belly. “You know, I’ve never talked about this before. It doesn’t even seem like it happened to me. The memory is more like a movie I saw or something I read in a book.”

Hoping to get her back to the story, he prompted, “Did you have your own room at the residence?”

“I sure did. And a canopy bed with a pink duvet and lots of flounces. The room where my parents slept was huge with a giant walk-in closet. I loved to watch my mother getting all dressed up for special events. The night when the incident took place, she wore a dark blue

V-neck dress with long sleeves and shoulder pads. Remember shoulder pads? My mom always wore them. It was that power dressing thing.”

She was loosening up, and he encouraged her. “I’ve seen photos of your mother. She’s an attractive woman.”

“Beautiful and classy. My sister looks a lot like her. Me? Not really. We all have blond hair, that’s about it.”

He thought Olivia was beautiful, and he’d told her a million times. But that wasn’t the point right now. “When you were a child, did you know what your parents did?”

“They worked at the embassy. That’s all I knew. That’s typical, isn’t it? Most kids don’t have a clue what their parents actually do for a living.”

“Most kids don’t have spies for parents.”

“And they don’t get abducted,” she said. “Okay, now I’ve started this story, I want to get through it.”

“I’m listening.”

“My mom was all dressed up. Since my dad was already at the party, I went to the front of the house with her to wait for the limo that would take her to the party. A big, shiny car pulled up. A strange man got out and talked to her in a low voice. He might have had a gun, probably did, but I didn’t see the weapon. All I knew was that when he grabbed her arm, he was taking my mother away from me. And I knew in my heart that I couldn’t let her go. If I did, I was afraid I’d never see her again. I jumped into the car with her and held on to her with all my strength.”

“You were a gutsy kid.”

“Not at all. I was scared out of my head. I heard the men talking in Spanish, trying to figure out how to get rid of me and I yelled at them that I wouldn’t leave my mother. They ended up with both of us. Two for the price of one.”

“Where did they take you?”

“I curled up on my mom’s lap. We put on blindfolds. She pretended it was a game but I knew better. We drove for a long time. When we got out, we were in a fabulous house—a palace, really. They took us up a marble staircase to the third floor. The doors were locked, but we had plenty of space with a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom.”

“And then?”

“Nothing,” she said. “We stayed there for a week. We were well fed and mostly left alone. Then they put on the blindfolds and took us home.”

Troy reminded himself that she was telling this story from the perspective of a seven-year-old. Her mother had been there to protect and reassure her child, and he suspected that Olivia’s mom had gone through hell during that week. “Tell me about a typical day when you were being held captive.”

“I don’t think I can remember much detail, but I’ll give it a try. First, we’d get up and do some exercises, touching our toes and reaching for the sky. And then, we’d wash up. I had to help my mom because she had a bruise. On her cheek. A huge, dark bruise. Oh, my God.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I had completely forgotten about the bruise. It was terrible. How could I forget?”

Memory was a funny thing. She hadn’t wanted to think of the abduction as a trauma, and she’d suppressed negative thoughts. “How did she get the bruise?”

“Late at night, one of the men came into our room,” she said. “He was loud and angry and he smelled bad. His face was red like a devil. And he slapped Mom so hard that she fell on the tile floor.”

She inhaled a sharp gasp before continuing. “I ran to the man. I kicked and I hit and I shoved. I did everything I could to keep him from hurting my mom. And he went away. Mom held me, told me she wasn’t really hurt, and we had to be quiet.”

His heart ached for the brave little girl who had tried to take care of her mother. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Mom told me to run and hide in the bathroom whenever anybody came into the room, and that’s what I did. I stood on the other side of the door and listened really hard. They never hit her again. If they had, I don’t know what I would have done.” She shook her head. “After a week, we went home.”

“Were you ever given an explanation? Did your parents ever talk to you about what happened?”

“Never. We accepted that a bad thing had happened, and we moved on. Literally, we moved. We went to Washington, D.C., for my parents’ next assignment.”

Because of the kidnapping, their cover story had been compromised. He knew that the Laughton family never returned to South America. Her father had gone on short assignments in Europe and the Middle East. But it wasn’t until both of their children graduated from high school and went to college that Richard and Sharon returned to regular work in foreign embassies.

Troy respected her parents for making the safety of their children a top priority. It was going to be difficult to tell them that their daughter was almost, once again, the victim of a kidnapping. Still, they needed to know. The intruder at Olivia’s cabin had taken a photo of the entire family.

* * *

T HE LODGE - STYLE hotel where he had reservations was four stories tall, and their suite on the top floor had deluxe amenities. After the bellman left her suitcase and his duffel, Troy inspected their space with an eye to security, prowling through the spacious sitting room with its cream-colored leather furniture, the bedroom, bathroom and the tiled area with the hot tub. He positioned a chair in front of the door so anybody breaking in would make a lot of noise, then he stepped onto the balcony that looked toward the moonlit slope. In a few months, the groomed mountainside would be filled with skiers and snowboarders.