“And we think his family’s past has something to do with it?” Whit asked skeptically.
“There is a lot we don’t know at this point,” Max said. “We need to find out exactly what kind of man Paul Sturvin is. Because until we have him back here, he is our person of interest number one.”
69
“You doing ok?” a male voice asked from behind Jac. One she recognized. Fortunately, Barnes wasn’t with him.
Barnes had become an almost nonentity. She didn’t know exactly what he was doing. It was almost like he’d wondered away hours ago—and no one had even noticed.
Not so with Whit. He was staring at her with his gorgeous brown eyes—eyes filled with concern.
Jac paused a moment to consider his question. “Yes. I’m focused on finding the girls. I’ll…deal…with the emotional side of things later.”
“See that you do.” Whit squeezed her shoulder gently. “Take care of yourself, Jac. Promise me. I’ve…seen too many of us struggling lately.”
There was a world of pain in his words. Pain that had her attention sharpening. “You ok?”
“Yes. Just…demands of the job. You know how it goes.”
She almost asked about the woman from admin who he’d been dating so heavily the last she knew. But something made her hold off on that.
Now wasn’t the time for that.
But she wouldn’t forget. Something was going on with Whit. She just couldn’t put her finger on what.
Dani came in, hurrying as quickly as she could. Most days, she preferred the crutches, but some, like today, she had to use the chair. Jac knew Dani’s story, but it wasn’t something the other woman broadcast. “Dani? What is it?”
“I have a list of every known address, every property, every camping spot Paul Sturvin and his brother ever visited. If we go on the theory that in times of stress—”
“People seek out the familiar,” Jac finished. “We need to figure out which of these properties is the most likely.”
“And one other thing…”
Jac turned toward the other woman.
“I’m not entirely certain, but…something feels off about the two men.”
“What do you mean?” Everything felt off about Paul Sturvin to her.
“I’m looking into it now. But there’s something about the photos of Paul Sturvin that don’t look right to me. I’ll dig deeper and get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Can you be more specific?” Whit asked.
“I’m not certain, but if you look at the photos of Paul Sturvin from eight, ten years ago, he carries himself much differently from more recent photos. And…look here.” She took the keyboard for the digital display board from Jac and brought up a file from the main server. “Here is the photos from Rachel and Paul’s wedding. Here’s the most recent photo.”
The photos were both close-ups, with Rachel and Paul in a similar pose. There were lines around Rachel’s eyes in the most recent. A sadness. Jac wished she had seen that earlier, wished she had made more of an effort to know Rachel before.
That was a guilt she would always have.
“There are nine years between them,” Jac said.
“Well, look at his neck. At the birthmark. In the first photo, it’s approximately an inch and a half in width and more oblong.”
Jac moved closer to the screen. “It’s in a slightly different place.”
“And if we do a size comparison,” Dani said, illustrating what she was saying. “It’s also twenty-five percent smaller and more circular.”
“Seriously?” Whit asked, clear skepticism in his tone. “What does that even matter?”
“Well, it’s a café au lait macule. They usually show up on the buttocks. And unlike some other types of birthmarks that fade with age, this type doesn’t. It’s rather distinctive.”
“So his birthmark changed over nine years?” Whit asked again. “I don’t know what the significance is.”
“The significance is this.” Dani pulled up a photo of two young boys, around the age of eighteen months. “Check out the birthmarks on both boys.”
Dani zoomed in on the photo.
Each boy had the birthmark. It took her a moment, but… “The birthmarks are different.”
“The baby on the left is Paul Sturvin, according to the photo. I thought his birthmark looked a bit like the state of Georgia, there. His brother, Philip’s looks a bit like Alabama, minus the Mobile area.”
Jac saw it, too.
Then she looked at the birthmark in the Sturvin wedding photo. “That’s definitely the same birthmark as the boy on the left.”
“From photos I’ve found of the couple before they were married—Debbie had several photo albums; Kelly brought me one when I asked—we’re talking the birthmark of Georgia. But more recent photos, those taken in the last five or six years, it’s changed a bit.”
Jac studied the most recent photo, the one taken in Max’s rec room.
“Alabama!”
“Exactly. But I’m not entirely certain. I mean, the birthmarks are very similar. And Philip is dead, so we really can’t compare. I’m waiting on someone to find me photos of Philip as an adult. But that’s taking a while.”
“When you find something definitive, besides just these photos, let me or Max know, ok?”
“Will do.”
Jac looked at Whit. “Can you find me everything you can about Philip Sullivan?”
70
Eugene Lytel owed him money. Paul was going to need that cash, and soon. He hadn’t intended to go to his old cabin near the Wabash River in Indiana.
He’d always hated this place. He’d inherited it from the aunt and uncle who had adopted him shortly after his fourth birthday and separated him from his brother forever. They had been a big part of destroying his only concept of family.
It had never meant as much to him, the family they had tried to create around him. Not when he’d see his identical twin six times a year at so-called family functions. They’d had no business splitting him and his twin up. He and Philip had been parts of the same whole. They never should have split them up like that. Take them away from each other like that.
It had destroyed his entire relationship with the one person who had mattered the most.
The whole idea of
