a sort of horrified curiosity mixed with embarrassment that she would even consider asking the question. When he didn’t answer right away, she pushed him. “Well?”
Brandon shrugged. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t occurred to me. I think it’s a real possibility. We’d have to prove it—or disprove it—of course.”
“Of course,” she murmured then gave a disbelieving laugh. “I really don’t think I could possibly be her. I mean, it just doesn’t make sense. I’m not adopted.” She swallowed hard. “At least I was never told that I am.”
“I understand that you’d feel that way, but I think it’s something we need to consider and look into.”
She bit her lip and gave a slow nod. “So where do we start?”
“Let me think about it.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “You need some rest. Is there anyone that could stay with you tonight?”
She shrugged. “I’ll be all right.”
“I really don’t think you should be alone. Today was traumatic, a tragedy that’s already playing on every news channel in the country. You probably have the media camped out on your doorstep.”
Sonya froze. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
He knew she hadn’t. “So. Is there anyone you could stay with?”
“I could call Missy Carlisle, I guess.”
“Who’s that?”
“A friend from work. Even though I haven’t been there very long, we’ve become pretty close.”
“Close enough to spend the night?”
“Of course.”
He nodded to the device still strapped to her arm. “Is that your phone?”
Sonya looked at her biceps as though she’d never seen it before. “Yes.” She released the device from the strap and dialed her friend’s number. While she talked, Brandon watched her. When she’d first come into the office, he’d seen her with Erica and wondered about her.
Erica had caught him watching. Later she’d patted his arm and said, “Don’t worry, she’s the real deal. She’s not here to gawk at our resident hero.”
Brandon had rolled his eyes. “Cute, sis. I’m not the one who worries about that and you know it.”
“Well, you have to admit, thanks to the media, we’ve had a few loonies looking to become your next girlfriend.”
He couldn’t help the wry twist his lips took.
A hero.
Just the thought made him shake his head. He wasn’t a hero; he’d just done his job. But the media had dubbed him a hero for being a part of bringing Molly home. Erica’s three-year-old daughter had disappeared while on a field trip with her preschool class.
Brandon had been a detective with the police force in Spartanburg. Banned from working the case because of his relation to Molly, he’d resigned and come on staff full-time with Finding the Lost. They’d brought Molly home three years later. Longer than he’d intended, but at least she was finally home with her mother.
And then he’d been in the right place at the right time two months ago. He’d caught and subdued an abusive husband trying to kidnap his child in the grocery-store parking lot. The media had gone nuts. Grudgingly, he admitted Erica had a point. Put the word hero on a guy and things got interesting—and extremely embarrassing. Not too long after the story broke he’d started getting marriage proposals via mail, email and even text messages.
Women. He’d never understand them. And frankly wasn’t sure he ever wanted to after the fiasco with his fiancée leaving him. All he’d learned was that most women weren’t to be trusted. The only exceptions he knew of were Katie Randall and Erica. He had no doubt they were a different type of woman.
But there was something about Sonya that made him wonder if she fell into the same category as his sister and friend. He also wondered if she ever smiled. A genuine smile, not strained or sad or worried.
She hung up and looked at him. “Missy said that would be fine. I need to go home and get some things, though.”
“I’ll take you.”
Sonya stood. “It’s not necessary.”
“Maybe not, but I want to.”
She tilted her head, and her ragged ponytail flopped onto her left shoulder. She studied him for so long, he almost started to squirm. “Okay.”
Her quiet acquiescence stirred his heart. And his mind. Was her innocent little-ole-me an act? Or was Erica right and she was the real deal? He decided he’d have to keep his distance until he figured it out.
* * *
Sonya sat in Missy’s living area and debated whether or not they were close enough friends for her to share her heart. She noted the Bible on the end table and the plaque on the wall that stated, As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
Neither one of those necessarily meant Missy practiced what she displayed, but chances were she wouldn’t have the items if she didn’t.
“What is it?” Missy handed Sonya a mug of steaming coffee flavored with vanilla.
Sonya blew on it, then took a sip. She smiled. “My mother always said one little puff isn’t going to make one bit of difference in the temperature.”
Missy laughed. “Well, she’s right.”
“I know but I do it anyway.”
Missy sat in the recliner and curled her legs beneath her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
The television played in the background on mute. Fox News carried the latest about the shooting, and Sonya shook her head. “I’m all right. Still shaken up, of course. The whole thing is surreal and I’ll probably have nightmares for weeks, but I’m just grateful to be alive.” She took another sip of the steaming brew. “How is the woman who was brought in?”
“Still alive when I left an hour ago, but critical.”
Sonya leaned her head against the back of the couch. “I don’t understand people who can do that kind of thing,” she whispered.
“I don’t, either, and I don’t want to.” Missy paused. “So who was the good-looking guy who followed you here?”
Sonya felt the flush creep up into her cheeks. “That’s Brandon.”
“And? You haven’t talked about him at work.”
That wasn’t her style, but she didn’t say that. “I hired him to look into something I found going through my mother’s things after she died.”
“What’d you find?” Missy turned serious, her brow creasing.
So Sonya spilled her story. Missy stared wide-eyed, her flavored coffee forgotten. Sonya finished with “The shooting happened just across from Brandon’s office with Finding the Lost. He heard the shots and came running.”
“That’s just crazy. And this Heather Bradley was kidnapped twenty-eight years ago?”
“Yes.”
“And Brandon works for this company.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me more about Brandon. You blushed when I asked you about him.”
Sonya groaned and gave a half laugh. “I can’t figure Brandon out. On the one hand, he’s kind, concerned and obviously very good at his job. On the other, he comes across aloof and—suspicious.” She’d been aware of his intense scrutiny while she’d been on the phone with Missy, but had pretended not to notice. He’d walked her back to the park and waited while she’d retrieved her