The expression on his face when he saw them was a mix of relief and regret. Bailey wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Ms. Morton, how’s your father?”
“He’s fine, on his way back to Sacramento.” She waved her hand at the house. “Will you explain to me what this is about?”
“We issued the warrant on a suspicion that the Mortons knew more about your disappearance than they’d acknowledged to the Appleton police.” When Bailey started to object, he held his hand out. “Please, let me finish.”
She nodded, inhaling slowly. “I’m sorry. I know you’re only doing your job.” She took another deep breath, hoping to slow her racing heart.
“Patrick Morton was a student at UCLA at the same time as Theresa and Alex Spatz. Ernie and Helen Morton flew to LA to spend some time with Patrick and had planned to fly back with him when his quarter ended. That was the week before Theresa died. The day she was killed, Ernie and Helen rented a car and drove home instead of using the non-refundable return tickets.” He held up his finger to make his point. “They drove home a week early.”
“How the hell did you get their travel records?” Ryan asked. “It’s been over twenty-eight years. You can’t possibly prove—”
“We have what we need, Ryan.” He frowned. “I’m sorry.”
Bailey staggered for a moment, forcing Ryan to grab her from behind. “Bay, you okay? Do you want to sit down?”
She balanced herself and nodded. Her stomach was hosting an entire gymnastics team, and they were all tumbling at once. After steadying herself, she said, “What evidence? What have you removed from this house?”
“I can’t share that with you. It’s part of the investigation.”
Bailey and Ryan both threw their hands up at the same time. “Come on,” Ryan said, his temper flaring. “Hasn’t she been through enough? Jesus. Come on, man.”
Vince placed a calming hand on Ryan’s chest. “Don’t overreact here, Ryan.”
“Bullshit, Dad. She’s been through hell. He can’t walk away without giving us something.”
“Mr. Walker, I’m sorry, but I need to follow protocol.”
“Can’t you just tell us something?” Bailey asked. She stepped closer, her eyes focusing on his. “What did you find?”
Sharpe rubbed his hand over his forehead, contemplating. His eyes scanned the street, and Bailey knew he was looking for any lingering press. “A letter was mailed to me, anonymously. I don’t know who sent it, but it was written by your mother. She confessed to everything.”
“We read all her letters.” Bailey lowered her eyes, trying to remember all of Patrick’s letters. “My uncle wrote letters to her. We read them.”
“This one was written in her hand, signed by her.”
“I don’t understand. Helen sent you a letter?” Ryan asked.
“No. The letter was addressed to Bailey. It was sent to me without a return address. I don’t know where it came from.”
“You have a letter from my mother addressed to me?” Her mouth turned into a frown. She lifted her hand to cover it, willing herself not to cry.
Ryan clenched her other hand. “We haven’t found any letters written by Helen, and certainly none addressed to Bailey.”
“I want to see it. If it was addressed to me, then you have to let me see it.”
“Actually, I don’t.” He jingled his keys in his hand, anxious to leave. “It’s evidence of a horrific crime—”
Bailey wanted to punch him. “Against me!” she shouted. “I’m the only victim here. Surely you can—”
“Theresa Spatz was a victim, too.”
Bailey’s eyes lowered, her entire body now heavy from the stress. “You’re right. So was Alex, but I refuse to believe my parents are guilty of anything other than being there for me when I needed them.”
“Agent Sharpe, can’t you tell us what the letter says?” Ryan asked. “It would ease Bailey if she had an idea. We don’t expect you to give it to us. Just recite the contents.”
“That couldn’t hurt, right?” Vince asked.
“I’m sorry, but the contents won’t make her feel better. I promise you, it’s not something that’ll bring relief.”
“I don’t want relief. I just want some answers. I can’t continue a relationship with Alex Spatz until I know everything,” Bailey said, her eyes narrowing on him. “That letter contains my mother’s dying words to me, and you won’t share them with me? H-how could you?” She nearly lost her breath on the last few words.
Sharpe jiggled his keys again, this time staring at them. Then he snapped his phone from the belt clip he wore. “This can get me in a lot of trouble.”
“I won’t tell a soul. I promise,” Bailey whispered.
Sharpe unlocked his phone and flipped through before turning it toward Bailey and handing it to her. On the screen was a photo of the letter. “It’s in our evidence locker, but I took a picture before we processed it.
Bailey spread her fingers on the screen to zoom in on the words, allowing her and Ryan to read it at the same time.
Dear Bailey,
I’m sure by now you have figured out the truth about your parentage. If you haven’t, I promise you will know everything by the end of this letter. Please don’t go public with this information. Do what you must to reunite with your biological family, but try to avoid sharing this information outside of your immediate friends.
I wanted to tell you, and I had planned to tell you before it was too late, but I worried for your safety. Someone, I’m not sure who, has been threatening me for months. If it were just me who was threatened, I would have gone through with my plan, but I wouldn’t risk you for anything in the world. And it was you they threatened to harm. Unfortunately, I don’t have more information about who has done this or why. I can’t even guess at how they’ve found this information out, but they have, and they don’t want the world or you to know. Please be careful. Destroy this letter when you’re
