Page 179 of Our Little Secret

An attachment was included.

She skimmed the documents he’d sent with the email and as she did, a cold fear washed over her. Not only was Eli Stone/Gideon Ross actually Elijah Jacob Rossario, known as “Ross,” he was also involved in an accident near Estacada, Oregon, when he was a teenager. Everyone else in the pickup died at the scene, his parents and his brother, Gideon. However, it was suspected his parents and brother were murdered before the accident. Their wounds were more in line with a beating than with vehicle crash injuries. However, because of the mangled wreckage and bodies and ensuing fire, it was hard to determine the cause of death. Ross was the only survivor and wasn’t unscathed. He’d ended up with a broken clavicle and bruised and broken ribs.

The cuts and contusions on his body were consistent with him being thrown from the vehicle, but there were questions about the rest of his family. Unfortunately, the driver of the other vehicle involved, the owner of a small logging business, died from injuries he sustained as his truck and load rolled down the same sharp ravine as did the Rossarios’ extended cab pickup.

Did he slaughter his family and collect the insurance money and all their assets? Or was he a victim? Whatever the reason, no charges were ever brought against him. He lived with an aunt and uncle until he came of age and then he collected his inheritance and sailed the world on his boat, theMedusa.

According to records Caleb had plumbed from Las Vegas, Elijah Gideon Rossario was married to a woman named Emme Cosgrove, who supposedly traveled with him aboard his sailboat to French Polynesia. That’s where her family lost touch with her.

“French Polynesia,” Brooke whispered, fear sliding down her spine as she remembered the necklace she’d seen on his boat, the one she’d fingered with the fish hook made from bone. He’d seemed to tense when she touched it.

Now she knew why.

Oh. God.

Caleb included a few sparse links to news clippings about the accidents.

She skimmed them twice, then called the unfamiliar number, presumably Caleb’s burner. He picked up on the first ring.

“This dude is bad news,” he said before she could utter a word. “You see that, Brooke. This is serious stuff. He may have killed his entire family and his wife. He’s certainly a person of interest. People around him either die or disappear, so my advice is to tell your sister to end it with him.”

“What if he won’t take no for an answer?”

“Then get the police involved. Hell, do it anyway. The guy’s dangerous,” Caleb said. “I just scratched the surface. I’ve only been at it a couple of hours, so who knows what more I might find? As far as I can tell he doesn’t have a rap sheet, no charges have ever been filed, but that’s only because he’s slick. Got it?”

“Yeah.” He was right.

She did get it.

Elijah Gideon Rossario, the man she’d known as Gideon Ross, the man Leah thought was Eli Stone, was deadly.

“Look, I’m sending you the only picture I could get of Emme Cosgrove.”

A second later it arrived in the spam folder, again from the same garbled address.

“Got it,” she said. Dreading what she’d find, she opened the attachment.

Then her heart stilled.

“Notice anything?”

She did. “Yeah,” she admitted, her throat suddenly bone dry.

The woman in the photograph, a young, blond woman with bright eyes and an easy smile, looked exactly like Brooke.

“Oh my God.”

In the picture Emme Cosgrove was younger than Brooke, her hair slightly darker, the wild curls the same, the high cheekbones, straight nose, and wide green eyes. And around Emme’s slim neck? The very necklace Brooke had seen in the cabin of theMedusa.Across the bottom of the picture a single word was visible: MISSING.

Fear congealed inside her.

“I assume your sister resembles you.”

“Aside from the coloring, our hair and eyes, yes,” she admitted, thinking how often they’d been mistaken for each other growing up.

“I’m guessing she’s in serious danger. Probably you too.”

“You’re right,” she said to Caleb, suddenly frantic.