Page 40 of Saved by Him

The womanon the other end of the video call had dark, wavy hair, baby blue eyes, and a sweet face. Cute, but not overly memorable. She also had one of those faces that showed every emotion, and right now, she was nervous.

“I don’t understand why a private investigator would want to talk to me. I work at a pharmaceutical company that donates money and resources to third world countries and low-income neighborhoods. They’re good people.”

“I’m sure they are,” I said, “but I’m not calling about your current job. I’m calling about a job you had almost ten years ago. With the US Marshals.”

The color drained from her face as I watched. “The Marshals?”

“Yes, Ms. Balk.” I kept my voice even, devoid of judgment. No matter what I found out, I couldn’t judge her, not if I wanted her to talk. “Specifically, I’m looking at the time you spent with Harry Franklin in Cheyenne, Wyoming.”

Her eyes darted away from the screen, and she fidgeted, twisting her fingers together. “Um, I don’t really know why you’d need to talk to me about any of that. I wasn’t with the Marshals for long. A couple years and then I left.”

“Why did you leave?”

“It wasn’t for me,” she answered quickly. Too quickly. “That’s all. I thought it’d be a good fit because of my dad. He worked for the service for decades. Gave his life to it, and I thought becoming a Marshal would honor that memory, but I wasn’t really much good at it.”

She was rambling, but I let her go. Sometimes when people were talking out of nerves, they said things they wouldn’t normally say.

“I’m not really a people person,” she continued. “They act like they like me, but then they do things…” Her cheeks flushed.

Shit.

A suspicion formed, and my gut said to follow it. “Ms. Balk, did you become…involvedwith someone you were assigned to?”

“No. No. Of course not. I never…” Her voice kept rising until it was shrill. “I wouldn’t…”

“Ms. Balk, I was hired by one of the daughters of Marcy Wakefield, also known as Helen Kingston, to find Kingston’s other children.”

“I can’t help with that,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“I think you do.” I kept my voice even. “I think Wakefield manipulated you, either by pretending to be your friend or something more. I think she fed you a story when she got pregnant eight and a half years ago, some story that made you help her.”

I could see it on her face, the embarrassment and humiliation. I might have gotten some of the details wrong, but I was on the right track. Salome Balk was my missing piece, and she’d get me the lead I needed to find another one of Jenna’s siblings. I couldn’t do anything about Serge and the others right now, but I could do this.

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