Page 35 of Girl Lost (The King Legacy #1)

THE COMMISSIONER would have his badge if he knew Corbin had formed an unofficial interagency task force.

His job was hanging by a thread as it was.

Pursuing this could snap that thread entirely.

Trinity was out there somewhere, her heart possibly the key to unraveling this whole organ harvesting ring.

Risk his badge or risk more lives? Some choices made themselves.

After everything they’d been through, he could trust his friends. And Luna. Working with her lit something inside him he thought long dead. It felt ... right. Like he was finally where he was supposed to be.

Commissioner Tinch didn’t need to worry about how they caught his daughter’s murderer so long as Corbin did it.

Even if it meant losing his job.

Corbin pulled into the doctor’s office parking lot and cut the engine. “Did you bring the release form?”

“Right here.” Luna handed him the folded paper.

“Let’s hope this is good enough,” he said, scanning the document. His eyes caught on a detail that made his heart stutter. “Wow,” he murmured.

Luna tilted her head. “What is it?”

“Trinity’s birthday.” His throat tightened a fraction. “It’s the same as...” He swallowed. “The same day our daughter was born.” The baby girl they’d given up all those years ago.

“I think you’re mistaken. It says Trinity was born on May 3. Our daughter was March 5.”

Corbin shook his head, pointing to the date on the paper. “No, look. It says right here—3/5. That’s March 5th.”

Luna snatched the paper back, her eyes widening as she stared at the numbers.

A long moment passed before she spoke. “Oh. I ... I read the date wrong.” Her voice seemed quiet.

Small. “I guess between the military, the Agency, and living overseas for so long, I’m used to putting the day before the month. ”

Something shifted. A shadow crossed her face.

“Luna? What’s wrong?”

She folded the paper quickly, tucking it away. “Nothing. We should hurry.”

She was shutting him out. Again. Bolting, but in a different way. He wanted to press further, but Luna was already opening her door, stepping out into the parking lot.

He got out of the car. Headed for the doctor’s office.

March 5th. The day he’d held their baby girl for the first and last time.

The nurse had written it neatly on a card for the bassinet, her hand steady while his world had fallen apart.

Luna had been silent then, tears streaming down her face.

He hadn’t known what to say. What could he say?

They hadn’t talked in months and now the weight of their choices felt too heavy for words.

She must be thinking about it too. That date. That moment.

This time, he would talk to her about it. But bringing it up now wouldn’t help either of them. Later, when they were trapped in a car for hours on a stakeout with nothing to distract them and no way to escape the conversation.

The glass doors of the South Beach Pediatric Center slid open, and a rush of cool air washed over him. The place reeked of anti septic and anxiety. Corbin hated doctors’ offices. And hospitals. The smell always brought back memories he’d rather forget.

The waiting area was packed. A married couple leaned forward, watching their daughter color outside the lines of a unicorn picture.

A kid, maybe five, coughed into his Spiderman mask as his mother rubbed his back with a weary hand.

A thin woman in a business suit bounced her legs and thumbed her phone screen, occasionally glancing at the sleeping infant nestled in one of those car seat and stroller combos.

Luna walked past, making a beeline for the receptionist’s desk. “Ready?”

Game face. It was a look he’d seen a thousand times before. On suspects, on witnesses, on victims. But seeing it on Luna ... it sent a thrill through him. She was in her element.

“Sure.” Get this over with, and the quicker, the better.

The plan was to let Luna use her powers of persuasion to get as much information as they could. If they could.

A woman sat behind the desk, her gaze fixed on a computer screen. A nameplate identified her as Sharon Rodriguez. She snapped her gum every few seconds and tapped her acrylics on the keyboard. The pink nails were studded with rhinestones and shaped like tiny two-inch daggers.

“Can I help you?” The gum snapped again.

“We’re hoping you can.” Luna’s smile dripped with honey. “How are you today? I love those nails, by the way. Where did you have them done?”

Sharon fluttered her fingers to give them a better look. A tiny silver jewel dangled from the tip of her pinky. “My daughter has a shop over on Fifth. She’s the best in town. Probably in the state.”

“No!” Luna gasped. “Fabulique? On Fifth and Sunshine?”

Sharon’s smile grew wide, showing the dot of fluorescent-green gum clenched in her molars. “You’ve heard of it?”

Luna leaned on the counter and flashed a grin. The kind he imagined had charmed diplomats and disarmed terrorists. “Okay ... that place is amazing,” she said. “I had the absolute best mani-pedi there two weeks ago.”

She had? He inspected Luna’s nails. Short and soft pink with white tips. What did they call that? French? Boy, he really had nothing to contribute to this conversation.

“Did you happen to meet Kelly?” Sharon asked.

“Yes, she’s the one I saw!”

He’d never seen Luna this animated. Well, not since their early days.

That one night when they’d lain on a beach blanket in the middle of the night to watch the meteor shower.

They’d ended up talking. Joking. Teasing.

He’d given her a nickname that had her belly laughing.

A secret between just them. And there wasn’t a moment that night when they weren’t touching.

“Okay, no way that’s your daughter,” Luna was saying. “You do not look old enough to have a grown daughter.”

“That’s so sweet of you to say.” Sharon blushed and straightened the stack of file folders on her desk.

“It’s true. Kelly was so kind. So talented. And a businesswoman? Wow, you’ve done a wonderful job raising her.”

“Oh, honey, she gets all her talent from her daddy. But I’ll tell her you said that. She’ll love it.”

“You know...” Luna leaned in. “I’ve been meaning to bring my friend here. He’s never had a mani-pedi, can you believe it?”

“No ... way.” Corbin started to shake his head, but Luna’s foot connected with his shin. A sharp, pointed jab.

“No way would I miss it.” He forced a smile.

“Well, tell you what,” Sharon said. “You bring him in, mention my name, and Kelly will give you both a discount.”

“You got it.” Luna winked. He couldn’t believe it. Actually winked. “We’ll be there next week for sure.”

“Well, enough jabberjawing,” Sharon said. “What doctor are you here to see?”

Luna jumped in. “Actually, we were hoping to have a quick chat with Amanda, in billing? It’s about a ... family matter.”

Sharon pursed her lips. Those daggerlike nails tapped a nervous rhythm against the desk. “Well, I’m not really supposed to let people back there without an appointment...” She glanced at Corbin, then back at Luna. “But you seem like nice folks. Let me give her a call.”

Sharon made the call and then pointed down a hallway. “Last door on the right. She’s a sweetheart.”

Luna fell into step beside him. The transformation was instant. Gone was the bubbly, charming woman who’d just sweet-talked their way past the receptionist. Her smile vanished. Her shoulders squared, her gaze distant, guarded.

He’d almost forgotten how quickly she could shift, how easily she could compartmentalize, build walls around herself.

It had thrown him off balance. That bubbly personality wasn’t an act, he knew that.

But it was a side of her she chose to conceal until she needed it.

A tool to get what she wanted. And it had worked.

She’d charmed Sharon into doing something she clearly wasn’t supposed to do.

Something he never could have pulled off.

They reached the last door on the right. A neat, handwritten nameplate was taped to the open door. Amanda Dunn. He tapped his knuckles against the frame before he stuck his head in.

The office was an efficient mess. Stacks of files lined one side of an L-shaped desk. A computer monitor dominated the other. Ceiling-high file cabinets lined three walls, each drawer meticulously labeled with color-coded tabs. He wouldn’t be able to function in this kind of organized chaos.

The woman standing behind the desk fanned herself with a file folder.

She was in her late forties, he guessed.

Short, with blond hair dyed a shocking pink on top.

One side of her head was shaved, the pink hair sculpted into a wave.

A rhinestone glittered in her nose piercing.

Thick black glasses framed intelligent blue eyes. A small fan oscillated on her desk.

“Come in, come in! Hot flashes all day long. I swear, I’m melting.

And the AC in this building is a joke.” Amanda gestured to the stacks of files on her desk.

“Heaven forbid I take one vacation day to give Mom a ride to the VA in Coco. Dermatologist appointment.” She stopped fanning and planted a fist on her hip.

“Do you know how hard it is to get appointments there? Months! And of course, it had to be the week I was supposed to reorganize the entire billing system. So now...” She waved a hand.

“Chaos. But anyway, what can I do for you?”

“I’m Special Agent King with the FDLE, and this is my partner, Agent Rosati.

It’s about a patient.” He tried to channel Luna’s charm, the easy smile that could melt glaciers.

“Trinity Brown. We’re concerned family friends.

And, well, has anyone told you that you look amazing today?

” He stumbled, the words tangled in his mouth. He was failing miserably.

Amanda raised an eyebrow. The corner of her lip twitched.

“Family friends, huh? That’s what the last two said.

And the ones before that.” She plopped down in her chair and leaned back, eyes magnified behind her thick glasses.

“You law enforcement boys really need to work on your cover stories if you want medical records without a warrant.”

He felt heat creep up his neck. Busted. “Okay, you got me. We’re investigating a missing person case. We need to access Trinity Brown’s medical records.”

“No can do, Agent King. Not without a warrant,” Amanda said, shaking her head. “I’m the gatekeeper of these records. Patient confidentiality is sacred to me. I take my job very seriously.”

“Believe me, I understand.” He was so not good at this. Not like Luna. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Trinity’s a juvenile. She’s in the Warrior program—”

“Oh, that program’s amazing!” Amanda exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

“A few years back ... three ... maybe four. Wait, has it really been five years? Anyway, my friend’s sister’s nephew was in trouble with the law, facing serious jail time.

But then he got into that Warrior program, and it turned his whole life around.

He’s got a job now, a wife ... it’s a miracle, really.

He had this awful rash on his back, the poor kid, and—”

“Yeah, that same program turned my life around.” For someone so worried about confidentiality, she was sharing details about a complete stranger pretty easily.

But fine, if flattery wouldn’t work, maybe honesty would. “That’s why I’m so worried about Trinity. She’s been ditching the program, hasn’t been seen in days. And we just learned she has some serious medical problems. I just ... I need to make sure she’s okay.”

“Oh, that’s so sad,” Amanda said. “It breaks my heart to see those kids struggling. We get teenagers here all the time. Even little ones. It’s just not right. But...” Her face hardened. “My hands are tied. I can’t give you anything without a warrant or a parent or guardian’s consent.”

While Corbin spoke, Luna stood quietly beside him. She’d picked up a framed photo from Amanda’s desk and studied it. A young girl with a bright smile, holding a dog with floppy ears.

“Actually, the program has legal guardianship of Trinity,” Corbin said, hoping this would be the magic phrase.

“Oh, well that’s different.” Amanda’s eyes brightened. “Let me see the paperwork.”

Luna unfolded the document Harlee had printed, the crisp paper crackling in the quiet office. She slid it across the desk.

Amanda scanned the document, her brow furrowing. “Hmmm ... this names a Stryker King as the guardian. Any relation?”

Stryker King. His father figure. The man who’d saved him from becoming a statistic, from following in his own father’s footsteps.

The man who was like a father to him in every way that mattered.

They shared a last name, yes, but only because Corbin had changed his because he couldn’t bear to carry the weight of his biological father’s name, the name that reeked of violence and betrayal, for the rest of his life.

He could lie. Say yes, just to get another shot at the file. But he couldn’t do that. He’d rather wait for Jett and Harlee to find something. “No. We’re not related.”

“Too bad,” Amanda said. “I could probably make an exception for a close relative. You know, father, brother, sister, mother...”

Luna returned the framed photo to Amanda’s desk. Pushed one corner with a finger to straighten the position. She clasped her hands behind her back.

This was a dead end. A waste of time. “Well, thank you anyway. We really appreciate—”

“I’m her biological mother,” Luna said.

Corbin was shocked into stillness.

Luna was ... Trinity’s mother? How ... what...

March 5th. The date.

He tried to speak but couldn’t. Words wouldn’t form.

And he was pretty sure his mouth hung open.