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reply I got back.
                  I went back into the living room and found Mr. Branson pouring himself a drink from one of the decanters on the bar. Mrs. Branson had her head resting in her hand on the arm of the sofa. “I’m sorry you folks had to come home to this, but I want to assure you that the first thing I did was to make sure Celia was safe, and she is. Alicia brought her down for a while when the police were searching the house. She’s back upstairs now, sleeping hopefully.”
                  “That’s good,” Branson said, taking his drink and sitting down on the sofa next to his wife.
    She looked up and I noticed a look pass between him and his wife before she gave me what looked like a practiced smile and said, “Yes, we’re so glad.”
                  “Was this man Russian like the other one?” Branson asked.
                  “I don’t know yet, sir. He wasn’t talking at all last I heard. But, while we’re on the subject, do either of you know anyone from Russia or who recently immigrated that might have some kind of grudge against your family? It could be a former employee or former house staff…”
                  “Alicia is the only Russian we’ve had on staff,” Matt Branson said as he took a long sip of his drink.
                  “How long has Alicia been with you?”
                  “I don’t know…seven months or so,” he said.
                  “Has she had any visitors since she came to live here, family or friends from Russia?”
                  “Not that we’re aware of,” Matt said, once again speaking for both him and his wife. “Do you think she might know these guys?”
                  “No. Russia is a big place. Again, I’m just trying to figure out who might have some kind of motive to want to get on your property and what that motive is.”
                  “So you don’t think they’re trying to kidnap my daughter?” he asked.
    From behind me, I heard Blake’s voice. “Is she your daughter, Mr. Branson? I mean, biologically.”
                  Matt Branson jumped to his feet and splashed bourbon from the crystal glass in his hand to the Egyptian carpet underneath his feet. His wife stayed put, but she had gone from looking annoyed to looking sick. “How dare you ask me that?”
                  I looked around behind me and saw Blake come into the room. “I dare because my firm can’t do its job if you aren’t a hundred percent honest with us. We have reason to believe that you had a surrogate mother for Celia.”
                  Mrs. Branson snorted out a laugh. She was silenced by a stern look from her husband. “Where did you get your information?”
                  “That doesn’t matter,” Blake said. “Either you come clean with me now, or we walk out of here and not come back. I will give you one chance to shoot straight here.”
                  Matt Branson looked at his wife. She held his gaze for several long seconds and then said, “We found out that Julia couldn’t have children early on in our marriage. It took us a while to decide between adoption and surrogacy. We decided on surrogacy ultimately, and that is how Celia was born.”
                  “Why keep it a secret?”
                  “Because of our standing in the community, we just felt it would be better for Celia as she grew up if no one knew. She’s our daughter, Mr. Donovan, whether she was created the traditional way or not.”
                  “I’m not disputing that. What I have an issue with, is the fact that you hired me to keep your daughter safe and try to find out who wants to kidnap her, yet you withheld from me the fact that there is someone out there who might have a very good reason to want