There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if it were a bad connection and there was a slight delay before the full connotation of his words landed.

“So, you found her?” the lawyer finally said, his voice void of any inflection. Kevin would have preferred to deliver the news in person. Would have been easier to read Clarke, but meetings with the old man had to be scheduled weeks in advance. Clarke always canceled at the last minute due to some bogus “emergency,” and the rescheduling dance would start all over again. “Is Sarah with you now?”

“No. Unfortunately, by the time I had arrived on the Gulf island, she was gone. However, I spoke with several of the nurses at the hospital, the police, the woman at Art Expressions Gallery, where she worked—”

“And they confirmed that this Mary Browning was indeed Sarah?” Clarke cut in. “I’m surprised. The news clipping you showed me didn’t look anything like her.”

Whether it actually was Sarah or not, it was vital that Phillip Clarke believed it was. If Kevin wasn’t able to produce proof positive that Sarah was alive, then in a couple more years the $385 million tied up in the Rainsford estate would be going into a fucking charitable trust. As in accordance with Sarah’s parents’ wills, said trust would be run by none other than the sneaky little dipshit Phillip Clarke Esq. Well, Kevin was no dummy. He’d had access to a calculator. He’d done the math. The setup fee, along with the “fiduciary services and asset management” fee, was over a cool $5 million for the first year. It would then “drop” to a mere $3,080,000 annual fee, which would rise in conjunction with the increased value of the investments. Yeah. He had the old man’s number. Had a couple of other theories about the corrupt old bastard he was checking into as well. The lawyer could pretend he was above it all, but the kind of payday and power that came from overseeing the Rainsford estate was a hell of a motivation to declare Sarah Audrey Rainsford Hawkins dead.

At least in the limbo land Kevin was trapped in now, he had access to the joint checking account with $35,000 arriving from Sarah’s trust like clockwork at the end of every month. Life would be even sweeter once Sarah was back under his control. He wouldn’t have to settle for the scraps. All that beautiful money would be his. A four percent rate of return on $385 million would net him $15,400,000 year in and year out. Of course, Kevin would have to keep a closer watch on Sarah now that he knew she was a runner. Wouldn’t allow her the multitude of freedoms she’d enjoyed before. He would keep her at arm’s reach at all times, even if it meant shackling her to the basement wall.