not to go near the edge because she didn’t know how to swim, but she’d stared at that welcome pool of water day after day, longing to go in.
Good manners and the subtle sense that always pervaded their home of needing to obey in her mother’s domain had kept her away from the pool for several days, but she’d finally given in to the longing one hot afternoon. A small window of opportunity had opened up when the adults had left the room and she’d taken it, slipping into the backyard and heading for the welcome of cold water on a hot summer afternoon.
Claudia had known the moment she broke the surface that she was in trouble. The T-shirt and shorts she still wore wrapped around her, stifling in the way the material instantly clung to her body, and the water, instead of being welcoming, covered her head and face, suffocating in the way it was suddenly everywhere.
She’d tried to scream, only to have that water fill her mouth and every movement—each thrash of her arms and kick of her legs—seemed to drag her farther down instead of buoying her up.
It had been Mac’s shout and the solid hold of his large hands as he pulled her out of the water that she still remembered.
But it was the languid claws of the water that haunted her nightmares, even to this day.
She’d taken lessons, of course. She’d been forced back into that pool to learn, day after day. Her mother had been ruthless about it and the staff had followed her orders, scared to do anything that would smack of defiance or disobedience. But it had been Mac who’d sat by the side of the pool, keeping watch lesson after lesson, to see that she was safe.
That memory wove in and out of her thoughts as she, Hawk and Mac settled into the warm, welcoming kitchen in Mac’s home. The news in the corral had come as a surprise—her mother had spent months away from her family in Europe?—but it was the story that Mac wove that was the real surprise.
“Mac, how is it I don’t know this? I’ve always heard the fanciful story of her European romance, but in what had to be nearly a year to have a relationship and a baby, Mom never came home? How long was she away from Knox, Leonor, River and Thorne?”
“She always claimed she was wrapped up in her whirlwind marriage and then was devastated when it didn’t work out. And it’s not like I spent much time around her, questioning the truth. Not like I’d have gotten it, anyway.” Mac grumbled that last part and it went a long way toward calming the racing thoughts that kept swirling in her mind, finding no purchase.
He was shaken, too. And whatever calm she’d had when Hawk initially shared his suspicions on their drive into Whisperwood, she couldn’t hide the increasing swirl of panic at Mac’s reaction.
“But did she ever say anything about her time away? She always told me she’d had a falling-out with my father.”
“That’s what she claimed. Said Claude was a rebound after divorcing her husband Wes, and that the only good thing she got out of the marriage was you.”
Claudia suspected her mother had said a whole lot more—the divorce from Wes had been in no small part because of her affair with Mac and Thorne’s subsequent birth—but she kept her thoughts to herself. Mac had done his own penance for getting mixed up with her mother and even for all the pain Livia had caused, Claudia knew with everything she was that he’d never trade his son, Thorne. Or the rest of them.
That fierce devotion had only increased—if it was even possible—when Wes had come back last month to exact his misplaced vengeance against Mac. Yet one more by-product of her mother’s hurtful choices.
“Mr. Mackenzie. Did Livia ever say anything to you about that time?” Hawk asked.
After sharing his suspicions about the Krupids’ daughter and her mother’s subsequent actions, Hawk had quieted as Mac recounted what he remembered of that time. It had only been the bombshell about her mother’s time in Europe—her extended time—that had made Claudia finally begin to see the possibilities in Hawk’s suspicions.
For all the gleaming temptation she’d felt at the idea of not being Livia Colton’s daughter, the increasing proof points were something else entirely.
Life just got real, as her brother River was fond of saying.
Very real, she amended.
Anxious to do something, she got up and went to the fridge, pulling out the canister of coffee that sat perpetually full on the bottom shelf. She washed out the dregs from the morning’s brew and started them on a fresh pot. Coffee might not solve the world’s problems, but she’d always suspected that armed with it she was a hell of a lot more prepared to handle what came her way.
The twin expressions of gratitude as she brought mugs, the sugar bowl and a fresh bottle of cream to the table only reinforced the thought.
“That’s my girl.” Mac patted her arm, his touch real and comforting as they both tried to process the truth.
“Tell me about this family, Mr. Huntley. The Krupids, you say?”
Once again, Claudia was struck by the innate kindness in Hawk’s voice and his deep respect for Mac. For all his deliberate purpose in pushing toward a conversation and a quick resolution, he seemed well aware of the tornado he’d unleashed into their lives.
“The Krupids are good people. Quiet people who’ve worked to make a life for themselves here in America.”
Mac stilled from where he doctored his coffee. “Why do you think this?”
“For starters, they were hesitant to come to me. They’ve never given up hope of finding their daughter, but they’d been scammed a few times in the past.”
“Too damned many people who are too quick to prey on others’ misery,” Mac said, his voice quiet.
“Yes, sir. That’s been my experience, as well.” Hawk finished stirring the cream into his mug and continued on. “Even with all their disillusionment, they’d saved more money and were determined to try once more to find some comfort in the loss of Annalise.”
“So why did you take on the case?” Mac asked. “Apart from it being your job. I suppose you have a choice on what cases you take on?”
“Yes, I do. And there was something about the photo of Annalise that captivated me. Something about her parents’ grief, as well. I work cold cases as a personal mission and I knew the moment I heard this one I needed to do something.”
Cold cases?
Was that what she was?
The thought struck with swift, heavy punches, the blows slamming into her with steady force. She’d spent her life as a Colton, yet there was a possibility to someone else—to an entirely different family—she was a mystery to be solved.
A well of pain and sadness that had never been filled.
Whatever had carried her through the morning—the vague sense of unreality at Hawk’s suspicions juxtaposed against the strange reality that had always been her life as a child of Livia Colton—vanished like smoke.
And all that remained was the very real and mounting evidence that her entire life had been a lie.
* * *
Claudia
