“I did, didn’t I?” She grinned back at him, a spark of joy in the dim light, and then she fell into a brooding silence again. The darkness of the Queens Midtown Tunnel combined with the overhead lights had lit the interior of the cab a greenish-yellow tint. “Now all I have to do is get my damned ID. Uncle Phillip sure freaked out when he realized Vicki had cleared the office of all my files. I have so many questions zipping through my brain. Did she bring them home with her? Is she planning on using them to blackmail Uncle Phillip? Or maybe she’s planning on selling them to Kevin? And the strangest thing is, it’s hard to imagine her doing these things. You’ll see when you meet her.” Sarah shook her head. “What if she won’t hand them over? That is what’s worrying me the most. I can’t get ID without having ID to prove I’m who I say I am. It’s a catch twenty-two. If I don’t get this mess sorted out, Sarah Rainsford could literally cease to exist. But then I circle back to why would Vicki do that? What’s in it for her?”

Mick could conjure a million reasons why someone would want to make an incredibly wealthy heiress disappear. Maybe that person was Vicki. Maybe it was someone else. More information was necessary in order to have clarity. Hopefully, Vicki would have a reasonable explanation for why Sarah’s documents were at her home and would be happy to hand them over.

“I’ve got to confess, I’m still reeling from the unwanted image of the two of them getting it on.” Mick wasn’t sure which possible affair Sarah was referring to. “I’d seen them at the office and at social functions as well.” Ah. Clarke and Vicki. “I had no idea they were having an affair, and for all those years. I wonder if his wife knew, if my parents did.” She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s true Vicki was always there in the background, like a comfortable bookcase or old slippers, but Uncle Phillip seemed so solidly married.”

“You called him that in the office as well. I wasn’t aware he was your uncle.”

“He’s not. It was an honorary title, I guess, from way back as long as I can remember. No blood relation. They were just Uncle Phillip and Auntie Jane. His wife is lovely. They’ve been married forever—thirty-five, forty years. Have two grown sons. There were photos of his family on his desk. Did you see them? Looks like there is a granddaughter now, too. He always carried photos of them in his wallet. How can he betray Auntie Jane like that? And how can she? Vicki deals with his wife all the time, making travel plans, dinner reservations . . . How can she look Auntie Jane in the face, knowing . . . ?”