Unfortunately, Nate knew exactly how Leslie felt. "Do you think you could identify them?"

She shook her head, winced, and rubbed her temples. "They wore masks."

"So how do you know the other person was a woman?"

Leslie blinked. "Her voice. She told the guy to hurry up. That's when they left."

He nodded slowly, thinking fast. "That guy who just tried to grab your purse. You think he was connected—?"

"No. No, that was just... I don't think that had anything to do with it. Just bad luck. I'm a magnet for bad luck."

"Why don't you think they're connected?"

"Why would they try to snatch my purse? They could have stolen that when they broke into my house."

A good point. "Did you call the police last night?"

"No! They told me not to, or they'd kill me."

But they wouldn't kill her, because Leslie was their only link to Marisa. And for some reason, Leslie believed Nate knew where her sister was.

If he wasn't careful, he'd get pulled into this.

Marisa's image filled his mind's eye. He shook it off. The last thing he needed was another drama. After what he'd been through, he knew he was meant to be on the sidelines of life, not in the thick of it. The reporter telling the world about the good and bad deeds of others. Always the by-line, never the hero. That was his fate.

"They think Marisa stole the money?"

"They were sure of it."

That's what everyone had thought. Everyone but Nate.

"I'm sorry, Leslie, but I have no idea where your sister is."

"She left a clue with you. She told me she would."

"When?" His skepticism must've been obvious in his voice, because her eyebrows lifted. He had secured Marisa a hotel room until he got the whole story, but she wasn't supposed to have contacted anybody. Maybe she'd risked contacting her sister.

"Through your stories," Leslie said. "Remember the false name you used for her?"

He thought back. The name had been important to her. "Piper, right?"

"I had a doll when we were growing up. We played a game with her—like hide-and-seek. One of us would hide the doll, and the other would try to find it. It was a silly game, but our apartment was too small to play real hide-and-seek, so this was our variation. The doll was named Piper. So the game was called Peek-A-Piper."

Nate couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe it sounds stupid to you, but she could've used a thousand names. She insisted you use Piper, right?"

She had.

"It was her way of telling me you'd be the way to find her."

"All of which sounds so sweet and nostalgic, but how do I know any of it's true? You don't exactly look like her."

Leslie pulled a little photo album out of her purse and handed it to him. "I carry this with me everywhere, just to remember..."