“Goddammit, Vaughn. You gonna throw that in my face every time I get on you about this Lark thing?”
Yeah, that had been low of him. Cam already carried enough guilt around about the circumstances surrounding the bomb, and it hadn’t even been his fault to begin with. Vaughn had knowingly stepped into the line of fire to protect his twin, and to throw that calculated sacrifice in Cam’s face now was an asshole move.
“Sorry,” he muttered and sat down to scroll through his search results.
“This has to stop.” Cam shoved the laptop closed and rested his hand on the lid. His wedding ring sparked in the florescent overhead lights of the office, and some nasty emotion twisted in Vaughn’s chest. Something a lot like jealousy.
He hated that about himself.
He was thrilled for Cam and Eva. How could he not be? Their marriage had been a long time coming, and Cam was practically walking around with little hearts circling his head. It was pathetic, but he would not begrudge his twin that happiness.
Except…
The condo they had bought together was so fucking empty now that Cam had moved out. His twin had been at his side since day one, and now, less than a month from their thirty-second birthday, he was living alone for the first time in his life. And he didn’t like it one fucking bit.
He sat back and dragged his hands through his hair. It had finally grown out from the haircut he’d been forced to endure for their youngest brother’s wedding last fall, and he felt more like himself again.
He gazed up, saw the worry etched into his twin’s features, and sighed. “Listen. I’m fine.”
“Bullshit,” Cam said. “You look like hell. I’m telling you, give it a rest. If you haven’t found her yet, you’re not going to.”
“I can’t. I’m too close.” He reached for the stack of papers on his desk and tossed them down one at a time so Cam could see each photocopied driver’s license picture. “Violet Smith, Rose Davis, Summer Harrison, Autumn Clark, Robin Jones, Lark Warren—different names, appearances, birthdays, social security numbers, and yet all the same woman. I know every name she has used since she first appeared on the scene five years ago—she always sticks to a nature theme, which leads me to believe her real name is something similar. She tends to steal her names from the recently deceased. I have her employment history for all of her aliases. She goes for just above minimum wage jobs—temp administrative assistant work, waitressing, bartending, nothing that anyone will run too deep of a background check for. I have most of her former addresses. I’ve even talked to some of her past acquaintances. It’s always the same story—one day, she just ups and disappears and nobody ever hears from her again.”
“Sounds like she’s running,” Cam said. “Which means she doesn’t want to be found.”
“Yeah, Reece said the same thing.” Their second oldest brother was a computer whiz and had been helping him uncover Lark’s past for the last few weeks. “Question is, running from what? Or is she just a common identity thief?”
Cam rubbed his jaw, then picked up the first paper in the stack, the picture that showed Lark as they both knew her, with streaky brown hair, blue eyes, and a Playboy bunny figure. “What do you plan to do when you find her, huh? Haul her back here for identity theft?”
“She broke the law. And if I can figure out her real name, I’ll probably uncover more criminal activity. People like this don’t wake up one morning and decide to start stealing identities. She’s been at this for a long time and needs to be held accountable.”
Cam handed the papers back. “We both know that’s not why you’re hell-bent on finding her.”
Vaughn grunted. The hairs on his arms prickled, like he was preparing for a fight he didn’t want. Twin or not, he wasn’t about to have that conversation with his brother. And the truth was, he couldn’t pinpoint why he had to find her. Hurt pride? Yeah, he had that in spades. Anger? Yep. She’d fucking lied to him about…well, everything. And…so many other messy emotions he didn’t care to dig around in, but it all swirled together into an inexorable need to track down the woman he’d known as Lark Warren.
Hands propped on his hips, Cam pushed out a breath in frustration. “All right,” he said after a moment. “At least let me help you.”
“Nah. I got this. Besides, didn’t Reece give you the case that came in yesterday?”
Cam rolled his eyes and went over to his desk as their incoming line rang. “Yeah, another cheating spouse. It’s about as interesting as watching paint dry.” He answered the phone, “Wilde Security.”
While Cam spoke to the caller, Vaughn opened his laptop again and clicked back to the internet. Before he’d gotten the itch to fight, he’d been frustrated by trying to trace Lark before she was her first alias, Violet Smith. If he could only figure out when and where Violet had come into being, he might be able to find—
“Vaughn,” Cam said.