“Don’t know why I’m having trouble believing that William could speak to you with his mind, given the events in my so-called golden years,” Roxy said.

“Tell me again what Quincy said, Stella,” Lynn asked.

“That he has a powerful congressman in his pocket that could get him in, and they would get William out. And now that I’ve seen Flip Smith here, he wasn’t exaggerating. There’s no one more connected. Mom, you remember that Dad and Flip were buddies, even if they were on other ends of the political spectrum. Quincy hopes that when Flip sees that the grandson of a US senator is being held against his will, he’ll use every resource to get him out. And that Quincy intends to broadcast it all on social media from his phone if he has to.”

Stella laid on the horn. “Move, people! OK, once we clear this, we’ve got to haul butt. Hang on ladies.”

When the crowd thinned, Stella hustled down the alley. “Mom, get out my phone. I think we take a left here and that will get us to one of the avenues.”

“Yes, take that left.”

“The freeway shouldn’t be too far—”

Stella slammed on the brakes at the sight of the black cars blocking the street and the men in suits waiting outside. She changed gears to back up, only to see a large black SUV pull up directly behind them.

Kate was horrified at the condition of the man. She’d only ever seen him in photographs and video of him being released from jail when the kidnapping and murder charges had been dropped. He was old fifteen years ago, but appeared in good health.

She guessed Dr. Steven Richards was in his late eighties, and looked every bit of it. His breathing appeared labored, his clothes were disheveled, and he was in bad need of a shower.

“My God.” She turned to Agent Hallow.

“I told you, he won’t talk or cooperate. Hasn’t since they seized him in New Orleans. Won’t eat or do anything.”

“Dr. Richards,” Kate said, walking across the room to where he sat slumped in a chair. “Dr. Richards, look at me. My name is Kate Roseworth. I’m Lynn’s middle daughter.”

He raised his head, his eyes bloodshot. “Well, of course you are. You look just like her. You even have her hair.”

Kate had never discussed the affair her mother had with the man in front of her. Or that he likely was the father of her sister Anne, making him the biological grandfather to her nephews, including William. There was no denying the resemblance.

“Sir, I have a lot of questions for you about my nephew. But I’m very worried about your condition.”

“That’s because I’m dying, ma’am.”

“Agent, get a doctor in here—”