Page 110 of Ultimate Justice

The woman was tall, maybe five-nine, with long, wavy dark brown hair and clear gray eyes. Eyes so like his own. “Can I help you?”

The aging software he’d used to produce a photo of what his sister would look like today was spot-on. When he didn’t answer, she took a step back, about to slam the door in their faces.

“Evan.” Marlie nudged him. “Say something.”

Right. She had no idea who they were, and his being tongue-tied, staring creepily wasn’t helping. He held up his creds. “I’m with the FBI,” he managed. “You called us to say—”

The woman’s eyes flew open, and she gasped. “Evan?”

“Yeah, Gracie,” he croaked, still not believing it was really, actually, and finally her standing before him. “It’s me.”

The door opened fully, and she flung herself into his arms so hard he stumbled backward. Blue snorted, jumping out of the way.

Unable to utter another coherent sentence, he clung to his sister, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders.

Just when he’d made the decision to stop searching for her, stop looking for her in every news report about a missing girl or woman’s body being found, and stop praying that one day she would simply walk through his parents’ door and say the words she always used just to piss off their father—like it or not, I’m home.

Yet, here she was. For real.

He squeezed his eyes shut, returning Gracie’s embrace while she cried in his arms. There were so many questions to be asked and answered. For now, they could wait.

Over the top of her head, he glimpsed the tears streaming down Marlie’s face. Having picked up on the excited vibe, Blue cavorted around their legs. Marlie’s face blurred, and he had to blink faster to keep her in focus. Eventually, he gave in and let the tears go.

Recounting factual things was an absolute must in his job, right down to the very last detail, because details mattered. But if anyone had asked, he honestly couldn’t say how long they stood that way.

Finally, Gracie pulled away, smiling through her tears. She sniffled, wiping the wetness from her cheeks, then took his hands in hers. “Come in. I have so much to tell you.”

Epilogue

Six months later

Marlie’s mother and sister gave her one last hug before leaving the dressing room to join the rest of Marlie’s family. Given how she’d distanced herself from them, she hadn’t been certain they’d come to the wedding, but was grateful they’d made the trip.

“Thank you,” Grace said as she attached the long lace veil to Marlie’s updo.

“For what?” Marlie looked at herself in the full-length mirror. The silk A-line wedding dress, with its delicate embroidery and tiny crystals, sparkled whenever she moved. Tori and Gemma had worked their magic again on her makeup, and especially her hair, into which they’d tucked white baby’s breath and more crystals.

“For everything.” Grace adjusted the comb deeper, so the veil wouldn’t fly away and take Marlie with it if a wind kicked up, as it was likely to do on the top of the Red Rocks amphitheater. “For welcoming me into your family. For helping me find an apartment nearby, and for letting me be in your wedding party. But mostly, for helping me with…you know.”

“You’re welcome.” She met Grace’s gaze in the mirror. Turning, she took the other woman’s hands in hers and squeezed them. “You’re my family now, too. I’ve loved getting to know you.” Grace hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she had a lot to tell them.

In the six months since they’d found her, Marlie had not only been counseling the children they’d rescued from the camp, but Grace, as well.

Turned out she’d remained at the camp until she was seventeen, when Frank Manello made it clear he wanted her for himself. That’s when she started planning her escape, stealing cash, small amounts at a time, so no one would notice. On the day of her escape, she’d put those hide-and-seek skills Evan had told her about to good use. Eventually, she hitchhiked to Grand Junction, taking odd jobs and staying at shelters until she saved up enough money to rent a small room.

Then, not wanting Manello or anyone else at the camp to find her, Grace lived off the grid. Her only sources of income were always in cash—teaching piano and selling her watercolors at craft fairs. She was good at both, and eventually made enough to rent the tiny house they’d found her in.

Marlie’s counseling didn’t end with Grace. She was also helping Evan and his parents to understand why Grace had chosen not to return to her family, even after she’d escaped the camp.

“You look beautiful.” Grace lifted the veil, releasing it and letting the air settle it around her shoulders and the back of the dress.

Behind them, a cork popped, then another.

“Thank you, but you all look beautiful.”

“Champagne anyone?” Gemma held up a bottle of Dom Perignon in one hand, and a different bottle in the other. “None for you, though.” She pointed to a very pregnant Tori, who sat sprawled on the dressing room’s sofa, her baby-belly covered in pretty pink silk. “I got you sparkling cider.”

“Yuck.” Tori made a face, and with obvious reluctance, accepted the flute Gemma handed her. “I’m really learning to despise this stuff.”