Proof

Book 4: Lost and Found Novel

by Fern Michaels

Genres: Women's Fiction; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

For fans of Nora Roberts and Danielle Steel, beloved storyteller Fern Michaels blends mystery, drama, and a touch of romance for the fourth in her #1 bestselling Lost & Found series, as a shoebox of mementoes found in a childhood dresser becomes the catalyst for a search into Luna’s own past…

Even though Luna and her brother Cullen seem like complete opposites, they’re identical in two ways: they’ll never let injustice stand and they always have each other’s back...

Sometimes, two very different pieces of furniture just pair perfectly together. Brother and sister Cullen and Luna Bodman work much the same way. While practical-minded Cullen Bodman focuses on their family’s antiques restoration business, his sister Luna’s next-door Namaste Café brings in new clientele. As a thank you to his sister, Cullen retrieves Luna’s childhood dresser from storage and refinishes it. A delighted Luna rummages through the drawers and discovers a shoebox full of mementos of her friend Brendan, reviving memories of love and a broken heart. But a flurry of emails and texts leads to a very brief death notice: Born. Died. Nothing else.

Beyond Luna’s sadness is her uncanny intuition that something about the announcement is off, a feeling that intensifies when she later glimpses a person who seems to be Brendan’s doppelganger. His laugh, his walk—Luna remembers both so well. Is her old friend really alive? And if so, who faked his death, and why? It’s not the first time an item of furniture has spurred Luna to solve a fascinating puzzle. But this time, the mystery is much more personal, and the stakes infinitely higher . . .

Release date: August 20, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 320

Sample

It was a quiet start to the week. The center was open Wednesday through Sunday afternoon. Mondays and Tuesdays were devoted to meetings, paperwork, deliveries, and catching up. Luna opened the café for anyone in need of coffee, and The Flakey Tart delivered a basket of croissants for Luna to oversee. She fired up the De’Longhi La Specialista espresso machine and put out cups and plates. It was a self-serve situation on the days the center was closed to the public.

Luna fixed a cup for her brother and brought it into his workshop, her dog Wylie following behind her.

“Why the long face?” Cullen asked as she handed him his java.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Luna glanced up at him.

“I know that look. Something is on your mind.”

She shrugged. “No. Not really.” She was lying, and he knew it.

“Don’t give me that, little sister. What’s up?” He leaned against the long shop table.

“I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“That could be a good thing or a bad thing.” Cullen was well aware of his sister’s feelings. “Things okay with Chris?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said mechanically.

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Of course.” She furrowed her brow, then turned and went back into her café.

Cullen knew there was something bothering Luna. The problem was, if she couldn’t put her finger on it, then it was impossible for him to help. He also knew she would eventually figure it out.

Luna sat down at her easel. Nothing was coming to her. It was almost as if she were numb. Physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally numb. She closed her eyes, took her pen, and drew a large question mark on the pad. “So? What is it?” she shouted at the inanimate object staring back at her. Wylie also sensed Luna’s uneasiness and plopped his head on her knee. Luna looked down into his big brown eyes. “You got an answer, pal? ’Cause I sure don’t.”

She got up and made herself a cappuccino, then spotted a glorious work of art flowing across the atrium. It was Chi-Chi. She often dressed in vibrant colors that perfectly draped her five-foot-seven-inch frame. A matching head wrap held her long, black box braids in place as they cascaded down her back.

No wonder Cullen is in love with her. Luna sighed.

“E káàrò.” Chi-Chi gave her the morning greeting.

“E káàrò,” Luna replied. “Your usual?”

“Thank you. I can do it. This is your day off.”

Luna got up and moved toward the counter. She gave Chi-Chi a side hug. “What’s on your agenda for today?”

“I am going through all the papers my brother left behind. He is so disorganized. It is astonishing he can get back and forth from Nigeria without finding himself in Nova Scotia.”

“You don’t know that it hasn’t already happened,” Luna joked.

“You are right. He would never tell me if such a thing happened to him.”

“Because you’d never let him forget it.”

“Please. I cannot unsee the spectacle that was on display when I walked into my house and found him with Jennine. I do mean on display. It was a very unpleasant experience.”

“The thought is horrifying.” Luna giggled. “But not surprising.”

“We never should have left him alone.”

“He is a grown man.” Luna smirked.

Chi-Chi grunted. “I do not believe those two words go together: grown and man. They are just silly boys in larger clothes with bigger feet.”

Luna barely stopped coffee from escaping out of her nose. “Do you feel that way about Cullen?” Luna had a twinkle in her eye.

“He is a man. A good man. A smart man. A kind man.”

“Yep. All of those. But he’s still a guy.” Luna rolled her eyes. “I grew up with him. I oughta know.”

“By the way, who were you talking to before I came in?”

“Huh?” Luna seemed confused. “You mean Wylie?”

“No. Before. You asked, ‘What is it?’ Your voice was more demanding than usual.” Chi-Chi winked at her.

“Oh, nothing.” Luna sighed.

“My dear friend. You cannot pretend there is nothing bothering you. I do not mean to pry, but you do not seem to be yourself today.”

“That’s just it. I have this weird feeling, and I cannot figure it out.”

“Weird in what way?” Chi-Chi pulled out a chair. “Please sit with me.”

“Have you ever had the sense that something is gnawing at your subconscious, but you can’t bring it into focus?” Luna asked.

“Not very often. But when I do feel that way, I go deep into my work. It brings me into a different state of consciousness. That is when many answers come to me.” She patted Luna’s hand. “But I am not telling you something you do not already know.”

“You’re right about that alpha and theta state. I just can’t seem to get there today. It’s as if my mind has drawn a blank. I feel edgy. Unsettled.” “Do you think it

Chi-Chi eyed her friend curiously. “Do you think it could be that you are uneasy because of your relationship with the marshal?”

“No. Our relationship is solid. We’re good,” Luna insisted.

“But is it as good as you want it to be?” Chi-Chi pushed.

“What do you mean?” Luna peered at her friend over her coffee cup.

“You and Chris have been seeing each other for almost three years, am I right?”

“Well, we really can’t count the first year.” Luna stared back at her.

“Let me ask you: Do you want more?” Chi-Chi pried.

“More what?” Luna asked casually.

“Please, Luna. I am not a fool. Are you satisfied with the limited time you have together?”

“Okay, so he lives two hours away. We manage.” She took another sip of her coffee.

“Is managing what you want?”

“I don’t know.” Luna sighed yet again. “We’re very happy when we are together.”

“Ah. That is my point: when you are together. How happy are you when you are not?”

“I’m busy.” Luna swept her arm, indicating the café and her easel.

Chi-Chi smiled. “I can tell you are not going to discuss this with me.”

“There is nothing to discuss.” Luna shook her head for emphasis.

“If you say so.” Chi-Chi got up. “I am going to say good morning to Cullen. Meanwhile, I suggest you continue your conversation with your sketch pad.” She smiled and turned toward the door that connected the café with Cullen’s showroom.

Luna remained in her seat, staring into space.

As Chi-Chi stepped into the showroom, a soft bell rang in the back, signaling someone had entered. Chi-Chi was familiar with Cullen’s routine and made her way past the beautifully restored pieces of furniture, lamps, and a variety of once-discarded home goods such as old lanterns, plaques, a coatrack, and an umbrella stand. She called out, “E káàrò!”

“E káàrò,” a voice in the distance replied. “Come on back.”

Chi-Chi admired the most recent armoire Cullen had revitalized as she entered the workshop area. Cullen was wearing a work apron, and a face shield sat atop his head.

“Good morning!” He was grinning from ear to ear. “I’m covered in sawdust,” he said apologetically as he attempted to brush some of it off.

Chi-Chi waved a hand in front of her face, fanning away any remnants from his work. “I can see that.” She blew him a kiss.

“You look lovely today.” He smiled at her.

“Thank you. And you? You look like you do every morning,” she teased. “But I like it anyway.”

“Good thing for me. So, what are your plans for the day?”

“I will be going through the paper mess my brother left for me.” She paused. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When I was speaking to Luna, she seemed very distracted. Almost worried. She was not behaving like her usual self.”

Cullen picked up the damp towel that he kept on the workbench and wiped his hands. “I was thinking the same thing. She seemed a little off. I mean off as in not her usual kind of off.” He managed a grin. “She was almost sullen.”

“Ah. Yes, that is a very appropriate word. Sullen.” Chi-Chi tilted her head. “Do you know why she may be in a mood? And please do not say hormones, or I will have to slap you.” Chi-Chi was serious. She’d had enough of the female moodiness/hormone stigma. If men could experience having a period just one time, they would never criticize a woman again for going through her monthly challenges. Then add paying sales tax on the necessary items. It was infuriating.

“Easy.” Cullen could see the fire smoldering in Chi-Chi’s eyes. “I would not dare to suggest . . .” His voice trailed off before she could get in a good punch, verbal or otherwise.

Chi-Chi folded her arms. “What did she say to you this morning?”

“Not a whole lot. I asked her if there was something bothering her, and she was vague. Something about not being able to put her finger on it. Then I asked about Chris, and she said things were fine.”

“Hmm,” Chi-Chi responded. “I got a similar response from her.”

“It’s been several weeks since they’ve seen each other,” Cullen reflected.

“Yes. And they usually spend every other weekend together. Something is not quite right. I can feel it in my bones,” Chi-Chi said.

“You’re beginning to sound like her, too!” Cullen chuckled.

Chi-Chi gave him one of her stop before you say something stupid looks. “Maybe you should call him and invite him to a game, or whatever men do together.” She looked him directly in the eye.

Cullen blinked several times before replying. “I suppose I could, but Luna might get annoyed.”

“Why would she? He is your friend, too, is he not?”

“True. And we have hung out together before.” He looked up at the local community calendar. “There’s a classic car show in Asheville on Saturday. That could be interesting. Maybe I’ll get into the car restoration business.”

“That is a brilliant idea,” Chi-Chi said.

“Getting into the car restoration business?” He tightened his lips. “I was kidding.”

“I know you were kidding, but that could be your excuse for going. You can tell him that you have been considering classic car refurbishing and want to research the idea.” Chi-Chi was normally uncomfortable with subterfuge, but this was for a good cause. Plus, she wouldn’t be the one carrying it out.

“Now that is brilliant,” Cullen responded cheerfully. “We make a good team.”

“I happen to think so.” Chi-Chi was almost blushing. “You have your assignment, so now get busy.” She turned on her heel and waltzed out the door.

Cullen watched the colorful fabric float away. He pulled his phone from the drawer that kept it safe from flying splinters and speed-dialed Chris’s number.

U.S. Marshal Christopher Gaines looked down at his cell phone. The caller ID said Lucinda, Gaines’s ex-wife. “This can’t be good,” he muttered to himself. “Yes, Lucinda. What’s up?”

“Chris, it’s Lucinda.”

Yeah, duh.

“I have something important we need to discuss.”

“Everything alright? Carter okay?” Gaines’s thoughts sobered as they turned to his son.

“Yes, everything is fine, actually,” Lucinda said matter-of-factly.

“So?”

“So, I wanted to let you know that Bruce and I are planning on moving to Chicago.”

“You’re what!” Gaines bellowed. “When was this decided? You can’t take Carter out of the state without my permission.”

“I realize that, Christopher, but Bruce has an opportunity to buy into a dental practice in Chicago.”

Chris had been thrilled when Lucinda remarried. After Carter was born, she’d complained she was bored, so she started working at a dental practice when they moved to Charlotte. It didn’t take long for Lucinda to have the dentist wrapped around her finger—and a few other body parts. When the affair became obvious, she blamed Chris. She said he was married to his job, and she didn’t want to live her life alone. Fortunately for Chris, he didn’t want to live with a whiny, spoiled woman who seemed to have forgotten what had attracted her to him in the first place: he was a U.S. Marshal. He kept long hours, often traveling for days at a time.

But, like many people, Lucinda ignored reality and hoped things would change for the better, or to what she wanted. Unfortunately, under most circumstances, they only changed for the worse. If one wanted things to get better, the changes had to be big. Really big. In Chris and Lucinda’s case, the big change was her affair. With both of them getting what they wanted, it was a relatively amicable divorce. Chris was not bitter about Lucinda’s transgressions. He was relieved. And then even more relieved that there would be no alimony. He had no problem with child support, but paying alimony to someone who clearly was able to work but didn’t irked him to the moon and back.

“We’ll have to go back to court,” he said into the phone.

“I was hoping we could resolve this between the two of us.”

“I don’t think so, Lucinda.” Gaines was in law enforcement. If there weren’t any rules, then they couldn’t be enforced, and he didn’t want Lucinda to have the advantage of doing whatever she pleased. “We have a legal and binding joint-custody arrangement.”

“I am aware of that, Chris.” She softened a bit. “But do we really need to go through all that legalese stuff when we can work this out together?”

“Nope.” He was adamant. Lucinda’s life’s work was to get her own way, but he wasn’t about to let her sweet-talk, threaten, or pull whatever tricks she had planned. “Call your lawyer, and I’ll call mine.” He waited for a response.

“I really wish you wouldn’t be so difficult,” she huffed, sounding more like herself.

“Lucinda, I am not being difficult. I’m being thorough.” He inhaled. “When is all of this supposed to happen?”

“Within the next six to eight months,” she replied.

“Then we have time to work this out.” Chris was being thoughtful, not for her sake, but for his own. And Carter’s.

“Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that,” she murmured.

Chris was trying to keep the lid on his steam. “Don’t get so excited, Lucinda. This is not going to be easy. Listen, I have to go. I have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“It’s always about your job, Chris,” she snarked.

“Please, Lucinda. Let’s not get into that now.”

“Fine. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer. Bye.”

Chris’s mind was racing. This could not be happening. He was not going to send his son off to the other side of the country. Not with Dr. Tooth. Lucinda’s husband Bruce was a good dentist, except for one thing: he had the worst buck teeth in the state of North Carolina. Why any person would trust their mouth to someone who was oblivious to his own was a head-scratcher.

Carter was in eighth grade now. Since he was six, he’d practiced hard to develop his baseball skills with his dad. Chris had once been a professional baseball player and was an active participant in Carter’s growing interest in the game. Chris trained Carter at home and on the field, where he coached Carter’s team. A winning team, at that. The previous summer, Carter’s Little League team went all the way to the finals. Most of the kids were in eighth grade now and were no longer eligible for Little League, so Chris had helped the school form a softball team for the students. He was determined to make sure this team was a winner, as well.

No, Lucinda was not going to break up the team, at home or on the field. Chris took a few deep breaths before he went into his meeting. Things had been going along smoothly with his job, his son, and his girlfriend. And now the monkey wrench known as Lucinda was thrown into the mix. This was going to get ugly. He picked up his phone and called his lawyer. “Houston, we have a problem.” Chris always laughed at that opening line, because his lawyer’s name was actually Houston.

“What’s up, man?” Evan Houston laughed.

“Lucinda is moving to Chicago.”

“When? Why?” Evan asked, rapid-fire.

“Six months, maybe. Dr. Tooth is buying into a practice out there.”

“Have they seen his teeth?” Houston mocked.

Chris laughed. “Apparently not.” He paused. “We are going to have to renegotiate the custody agreement. As in, I want full custody.”

“I can understand that,” Houston replied. “You know it’s going to be a battle.”

“Of course, it will be. We’re dealing with Lucinda,” Chris agreed.

“But you could make a good case for yourself. Bruce is not Carter’s father, and not at all involved in Carter’s activities. Correct?” Houston noted.

“True. He’s basically invisible. I don’t think he’s been to more than one of Carter’s games,” Chris responded.

“Good. Start keeping track of his involvement—or lack thereof—but don’t let on you’re keeping score. You don’t want Lucinda pulling a stunt and having Bruce suddenly become interested in Carter’s life.”

“Good point. I won’t even ask if Bruce will be attending any of Carter’s games, or his science project exhibit.”

“Great. Make sure you keep notes on how often Bruce helps with his homework, too.”

“That I can say with confidence is a big never,” Chris replied. “I have a meeting in five minutes. We’ll recon later. Thanks, man. I appreciate the suggestion and the advice.”

“Any time. Always happy to help the U.S. Marshal service,” Houston said before he ended the call.

Chris had met Evan during his first case in Charlotte. Chris’s area of responsibility was missing children and human trafficking. Evan Houston practiced family law. A child had been abducted from his backyard by one of his relatives. Chris was immediately called into the investigation. Two days later, the child was fortunately found unharmed, and his uncle was arrested, charged, found guilty of child endangerment, and sentenced to five years in prison. The mother was terrified that she and her son would be in constant danger from her estranged husband’s family. The family wanted her boy, and she was sure they would also want revenge. She sought Evan’s help to represent her in an application for relocation, and Chris helped facilitate the request. Both men were fathers. Both men had boys the same age. There was an immediate kinship between them, as they imagined what it would be like having one of their own go missing. From that day forward, the two men were tight friends.

When Chris told Evan about Lucinda’s indiscretions, Evan offered to represent Chris in his divorce, pro bono. Free of charge. Evan, too, had suffered a betrayal and knew exactly what was to come for his friend: Aggravation. Lack of cooperation. Empty threats. Blame. And a whole lot of B.S.

Chris gathered his tablet, a pad, pen, and his cell phone and strode down the hallway to the conference room. He was breathing a little easier now, thanks to Evan.

Chris’s appearance could be intimidating to some. He was just over six feet tall with a well-toned body. His gait was confident. His long black eyelashes surrounded deep blue eyes that demanded one’s attention. One wouldn’t say his eyes were steely, or cold either. But they had the ability to pierce the veil of anyone who attempted to lie. It was one of his best weapons. Then there was his smile. Warm. Inviting, if he chose. He had black wavy hair with a dash of gray at the temples that gave him the appearance of a man who packed a lot of experience for someone about to turn forty.

He’d first met Luna Bodhi Bodman a few years prior during a search party for a little girl. Luna wasn’t the least bit daunted by his handsome looks or air of authority. He had been struck by her confidence and self-assuredness. She was quite different from anyone he had ever met, and it took a little time for him to become smitten with the quirky and eccentric free spirit. Luna had very few filters. Not that she was unkind, but if something was on her mind, or in her gut, she felt compelled to say it.

The two developed a strong friendship while they collaborated on other cases involving missing kids. He appreciated her ability to “read” people and advocate for “doing the right thing.” After several assignments, Luna left her job with social services and opened a café in the Stillwell Center outside of Asheville. It was a two-hour drive away, but Gaines wanted to maintain the relationship. Perhaps even take it a step further.

The grand opening of the art center had given him the perfect opportunity to show his face, and perhaps kiss hers before the night was over, but he’d almost missed the event. He had remembered sunflowers were her favorite and combed Charlotte until he found a florist who had them. He was running late and came close to breaking every traffic law between Charlotte and Asheville. Not only was his car racing, but so was his heart.

He had handed her the flowers and profusely apologized for his tardiness, but the look in her eyes and the expression on her face made it all worthwhile. He let out the biggest exhale, realizing he might have been holding his breath the entire length of the interstate.

His recollection of that night was broken by voices coming from the conference room. There were a half dozen people gathered around the long table.

Chris’s boss, Frank, was sitting at the head of the table and began to speak. “People, I have some news. There are several positions opening up in the Witness Security Program. As some of you may know, the number of people in the program has grown considerably, thanks to prosecutors increasi. . .