Page 57 of Deadly Scandals

But I knew that somehow, saving Sienna would be like saving my own sister—who I had given up hope of ever finding.

Grant and I shook hands, which was very awkward, but then we walked back toward City Hall to meet Mia.

She wasn’t there. Grant texted her and found out that she had taken Sam to get a slice of pizza. We finally met up with them. The little boy had tomato sauce smeared on his face.

“Did they find my sister yet?”

I shook my head. “No, not yet.”

“Where’s my daddy?”

Grant sat next to him. “He’s talking to the police. We’re going to watch you for now.”

He pursed his lips. “Can we go on some rides?”

I looked at Grant. Well, it wasn’t appropriate to go on any rides right now, but I wanted to make Sam happy. I was sure we all did. This could be the last time he had any semblance of a normal life.

In a week, he had been through so much. His mom was in the hospital, and his sister was missing. His world was about to fall apart.

Grant turned to Mia and whispered something in her ear.

Mia’s mouth gaped, and she immediately began to cry.

Grant embraced her.

Sam was now focused on his chocolate pudding. Grant joined us with his beer, and Grant, Mia, and I huddled in the booth.

I spoke in a low tone. “Look, guys, tell me if I’m crazy, but this has to be connected to Julián.”

Mia rolled her eyes at me. “You’re crazy, Ash.”

“No, seriously. I think it is.”

Mia’s face grew intense, and Grant seemed to be monitoring our interaction—probably to make sure we didn’t break out into a fight. “What are you talking about?”

“Look…there are too many coincidences.”

She shook her head, her voice getting louder. “No, there aren’t. You did work my case, didn’t you? My brother lost it, was obsessed with me, kidnapped my son because he thought it was his kid because he raped me. Remember?”

I bit my lower lip. I needed to slow my role. “Doesn’t that seem a little far-fetched, Mia? Do you really think he acted alone?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’d like to say he didn’t, but he swears to me he did. I think he’s telling me the truth. I didn’t want to believe it—it’s been my worst nightmare—but through therapy, I have learned to accept it. He’s sick.”

I turned my gaze to Grant, who was noticeably calm and nonreactive. His breathing was steady, his hand wasn’t shaking; he was like a machine.

Why wouldn’t he have an emotional response to this conversation?

“What do you think?”

He paused before he calmly said, “I think we have no idea what’s happening.”

I was not satisfied with that answer. “I’m not asking about Sienna. I’m asking about Joaquín.”

He glared at me. I knew that glare. The SEAL death stare. He would not let me into his thoughts.

“Are you suggesting that Joaquín was involved in kidnapping Sienna because he kidnapped my son? Joaquín’s in jail, Ash. You should know that. You put him there.”

“I’m just saying he could be involved.”