Kathleen Long - Without a Doubt

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LITTLE GIRL LOST…AND FOUND?The moment she laid eyes on the little girl with the butterfly-shaped birthmark, reporter Sophie Markham swore she was looking at her long-lost niece. And yet this child's parents claimed to have met the birth mother…who had perished in a fire. Digging into the adoption quickly became dangerous, but her biggest challenge was the child's uncle, and Sophie's ex, Gary Barksdale. Being near him reminded Sophie of the passion that had once driven their careers and their relationship. And working together now felt as natural as it had back then–except this time someone wanted them dead.

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“Trevor James. Sophie Markham.” Maggie gestured between the two of them. “Trevor is my life coach, though he prefers the term personal adviser. Did you two get a chance to meet at the party?”

No, they hadn’t. But Sophie recognized him now. Life coach to the rich and famous of the Philadelphia region. The man had made quite a name for himself in the elite circle of the business and social sets. In recent months, his face had been on the news almost as much as her own had been.

Sophie extended her hand. “We didn’t, but it’s a pleasure to meet you now. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“All good, I hope.” James gave her hand a quick pump, but held her gaze a fraction of a second too long, sending a frisson of unease skittering across Sophie’s nerve endings.

“Naturally.” She freed her grip from his.

Tall and lean, he stood at least six foot three. His dark waves fell in a precise cut that Sophie found borderline artificial. He stepped back, allowing Sophie and Maggie to walk ahead of him.

As much as she told herself she was letting her imagination run amok, Sophie swore she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her skull. The tiny hairs at the base of her neck pricked to attention, and she fought the urge to reach back and smooth them.

In a matter of minutes, Cookie completed their setup and locked the necessary lighting into place. Sophie gave silent thanks, not wanting to make small talk with Trevor James any longer than she had to.

She’d lied when she’d thought she hadn’t let herself care for anyone since her breakup with Gary. Cookie’s friendship and grace under pressure were two things she’d be lost without, and she cared for him. Over the years, the gentle soul had become the father she’d never known.

He shot her a wink. “Ready when you are, Ms. Markham.”

She rolled her eyes at his use of formality, knowing he was the only one in the room who could see her, then she turned her attention to Maggie.

Trevor James sat at the woman’s side, his obviously practiced smile glued in place on his chiseled face.

Even though Sophie had done her best to gently suggest the piece would be more genuine if her life coach was not in the shot, Maggie had insisted.

An emotion shone in James’s icy eyes, an emotion Sophie couldn’t quite put her finger on. Smugness? Confidence? A certainty that he’d get his way no matter what?

She shook off her instinctive dislike of the man and began the interview. She’d no sooner begun than Ally popped into the living room, launching herself into her mother’s lap.

“Sorry.” Maggie gripped her daughter’s hand and marched her toward the kitchen. She returned a few moments later. “She’s just excited. If she stays with her coloring books, we’ll be safe.”

But no more than a few minutes passed before Ally repeated her performance.

Each time the girl appeared, Sophie found herself more and more distracted by the assuredness that had begun to settle into her bones.

Ally Alexander was her niece. Professional objectivity be damned. Robin had somehow survived the fire and had been adopted by the Alexanders.

As crazy as the theory sounded, Sophie’s gut knew she was right.

Her head knew.

Her heart knew.

And she’d do whatever it took to get her niece back.

She stifled the gasp that threatened to burst from her lips. Fought the urge to bundle the girl into her arms and bury her face in the baby-soft hair. She battled down her desire to press her lips to the butterfly birthmark, just as she’d done the day Robin had been born.

“Sophie.” Cookie’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Earth to Sophie.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, reaching for the notepad on her lap onto which she’d scribbled her interview questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” Maggie replied. “I’m afraid my daughter’s a bit wound up today. She doesn’t want to miss anything.”

Sophie tipped her head, listening to the sweet notes of Ally’s singing coming from the kitchen. “Would she like to watch us?”

Maggie’s expression brightened. “She’d love it, but I don’t know how we’d ever get her to sit still or be quiet.”

Sophie reached down into her bag and pulled out a rainbow-colored lollipop. She kept a bag of the sweet treats handy for occasions just like this one.

“I used to be a Girl Scout,” she teased. “Is she allowed to have this?”

“Always prepared.” Maggie nodded and took the offered treat, then called out to Ally. The young girl’s navy-blue eyes grew to the size of saucers as she spied the candy. “You have to sit still and be quiet. Can you do that?” Maggie asked.

Ally grew very serious, nodding her head as if the sight of the lollipop had put her into a trance.

A few moments later, she settled happily across the room, licking her treat and quietly watching her mother’s interview.

Sophie shut out the questions screaming through her mind and immersed herself in the task at hand. She methodically fired questions at Maggie and redirected the interview as necessary to gather enough statements and reactions to edit the final piece.

She was deep in the zone when Ally let out a squeal and dashed across the room to where a newcomer stood, wordlessly watching the scene before him.

Cookie cut the camera light and Sophie turned, her heart lodging in her throat at the sight of Ally bundled into Gary Barksdale’s arms. He’d shaved today and the dimples winking out from his cheeks reawakened long-dead memories of lazy afternoon walks and long talks that had lasted into the wee hours of the morning.

The mental pictures grabbed Sophie’s heart and squeezed.

She swallowed down the unwanted tangle of emotions and plastered on her most professional smile.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Gary said with a wink. “Thought you’d be done by now.”

WHEN MAGGIE HAD PHONED to let Gary know Sophie was on her way over to do a feature spot, he couldn’t resist watching. He knew his sister’s game, but so what? She had designs on putting him in close proximity with Sophie, no doubt wanting to rekindle the spark of what they’d once shared.

The diversion had fit perfectly into his day. His next piece wasn’t due until tomorrow, and after he’d spent the morning reviewing the photos and stories that had covered Rebecca and Robin Markham’s deaths, he had to admit Sophie might be on to something with her theory.

Seeing her again would give him a chance to dig more deeply into just what had awakened her suspicions.

At the time of the fire, the investigators’ determination that the absence of the child’s remains needn’t be questioned had been acceptable. But the case had been unprecedented. Shouldn’t that alone have raised a note of doubt?

The cause of the fire had been ruled accidental. Gary realized that point was crucial. Any sign of foul play would have raised a red flag, but there had been none.

End of story. Closed case.

Closed, at least, until Sophie’s questions had kicked his investigative brain into overdrive. The what-ifs had been rattling around inside his skull all day.

As he watched Sophie now, he took stock of how far she’d come with her career. He remembered the day she’d done her first live report for WNJZ. He’d watched every second, had followed her career from graduation forward. As much as he tried to deny it, Gary had always been sure of one thing.

For him, Sophie Markham would always be the one that got away. Hands down. No matter that she had broken his heart, he’d never been able to shake the depth of what they’d shared for however briefly they’d shared it.

Ally had begun to alternate between licking her lollipop and singing. Maggie shot Gary the evil eye and he smiled. He recognized that nonverbal cue. He held out his hand to his niece and tipped his chin toward the kitchen.

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