by Jami Alden
“St. Luke’s. Up in South San Francisco.”
Danny nodded. “But in some cases adoptees can get their records unsealed. He filed the papers under a false identity so no one could ever trace it back to him.”
False identities and fake adoption records? This was getting more sickening by the second. “How many other girls did he…help?” Caroline wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“There was one other girl while I was there. Emily Parrish. Her parents were religious freaks and threw her out when she got pregnant. Jack wanted her to give up her baby, too.”
“The files showed there were four other girls living at Harmony House at that time. James wasn’t working with any of them?”
Lauren licked her lips, taking care to choose her words. “Two of the other girls were Mexican, one was black, and one was,” she paused, looking sheepish, “really ugly.”
“James only wanted pretty white babies for his clients,” Danny bit out.
“It wasn’t Emily’s fault she was beautiful, and I may not look it now, but I was a lot cuter as a sixteen-year-old. James made us swear the babies’ fathers were white too, and told us the deal was off if the babies came out looking, how did he put it? Ethnic.”
Caroline swallowed back a surge of bile. She pushed it away, forcing herself to focus. They still didn’t really know how or if Anne Taggart was involved. “So was Anne helping him with any of this? Was she involved at all?”
“No,” Lauren said. “I mean, I talked to her about giving the baby up, and she thought Jack was a great guy for helping us, but I never told her about the money part. He made us swear.”
“She thought he was a great guy?” Danny asked, and only someone who knew him well would pick up on the hostility vibrating through his voice. “Do you think they were having a relationship?”
Lauren’s wide eyes darted nervously between Danny and Caroline, as though it had just dawned on her that they were discussing Danny’s mother and Caroline’s husband. “They were friendly,” she said carefully. “They seemed to like each other, but I don’t know anything that happened outside of Harmony House.” She shook her head and held her hands up as though to fend off a predator.
Caroline couldn’t blame her. Danny’s eyes were narrowed into icy gray slits and his whole body was tense. She put her hand on his arm and gave him a warning squeeze.
“I remember them arguing though, about Emily. It was right before Emily left.”
“Left?”
Lauren nodded. “I wasn’t supposed to know, but Emily wanted to back out of the adoption. She wanted to keep her baby. She and the director and Jack had a meeting and he was really pissed. Afterward, Emily told Anne what happened. Anne promised to help her smooth things over with Jack. They got in a huge argument. He told her it was none of her fucking business, and she said he had no right to force her to give up the baby if she didn’t want to.”
“What happened to Emily? We can’t seem to find any record of her anywhere after she left the shelter,” Danny said.
Lauren shrugged. “After she decided she wanted to keep her baby she left. She moved back with her parents, at least that’s what Christine told us. I remember Anne was really upset. She’d heard about Emily’s family and was worried about how they’d treat her. After that she quit showing up for her volunteer shifts. I figure she was pissed at the director and Jack and didn’t want anything to do with any of us.”
“She didn’t show up because she disappeared,” Danny said bluntly. “What about Jack? Did you see him after that?”
Lauren closed her eyes and nodded. A big fat tear escaped to roll down her cheek. “The day after my daughter was born. He had me sign some papers and gave me my check. Then he took my daughter to her new family.”
Lauren looked at her watch and her eyes widened in horror. “I have to go now.” She jumped from her seat. “Good luck with everything,” she said awkwardly and practically ran to the door.
Danny held Caroline’s arm as they walked to her car. She knew she should pull away, but it felt too good to have his big, strong hand on her, his muscular presence at her side.
She climbed in the car and waited for the accusations to fly. With every new discovery, it became more clear James had something to do with Anne’s death. He had probably killed her to keep his secret. Her mind flinched away from acknowledging the possibility.
Instead of voicing her worst fears, all Danny said was, “If this goes the way I think it’s going to go, that woman’s going to have to tell her husband what happened. She should have told him a long time ago.”
“She wanted a new life. A clean slate. I can appreciate that.”
“She claims to love her husband, but she keeps something like that from him? That’s not cool.”
“Some secrets get too big to share,” Caroline said. She should know, she was choking on hers, and she never made it past the twelfth week of her pregnancy.
“Not if you’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone.”
“Right. Says the expert in romantic relationships who is always so open about everything.”
“Not wanting to spill my guts all over the table for everyone and keeping big secrets like, say, having a baby, are two very different things. But you’re right. I’m certainly no expert on romance. Good thing we figured that out early.”
Caroline ignored the pinch of grief and pulled out her cell phone as Danny guided her car out of Lauren’s neighborhood. She needed to talk to Patrick. He was James’s closest friend. If James had been up to something, chances were Patrick would have had an idea. He had to have been suspicious, even if he hadn’t known exactly what James had been involved with.
Melody answered on the first ring. “Hey Caroline. I’ve been wondering how you are. Are you still hanging out with that fine—”
“Mel, sorry to cut you off, but I really need to talk to Patrick. Is he home?”
Danny started to say something, and she held her hand up for silence.
“Sure, I’ll get him.”
“I’d really rather talk to him in person. Will he still be home in about an hour?”
“Yes, but you can’t stay long. Patrick has to get up early again tomorrow to catch a flight.”
Caroline promised they wouldn’t take too much time and hung up.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Danny’s harsh voice cut through the car’s dark interior like a steel blade.
“Patrick has been James’s best friend since they were freshmen in college. I can’t believe James would have all of this going on without Patrick knowing something.”
“That may be true, but if he hasn’t said anything in all this time, why would he say anything now?”
“Maybe he doesn’t realize what he knows. But he could remember something from that time that could help us.”
“What are you hoping to find out, Caroline?”
She wasn’t sure. “I don’t know. Another explanation? An accomplice who held a gun to James’s head and forced him into this?” Anything but what the truth was shaping up to be. “Let me talk to Patrick, okay? He and Mel have done so much to help me, and if nothing else I don’t want them blindsided when the truth comes out.”
Danny finally agreed. “But you follow my lead. I’ll ask the questions, I’ll manage the information. Got it.”
“Sir yes sir,” she snapped.
He made a detour to his house to pick up a few changes of clothes. They left the lights of town behind and traveled up a windy, unlit road into the hills. As they climbed, the twists grew sharper and the trees grew bigger until Danny turned down a narrow, gravel drive and pulled up in front of a woodframe structure that was more cabin than house. To her intense disappointment he instructed her to wait in the car as he ran inside to grab his things.
After years of trying not to think about Danny at all, suddenly she was intensely curious about every aspect of his life, including his house. Though Joe Taggart had made a fortune as an inve
stment banker, Danny and his brothers were no trust fund babies. Even if they were, Danny wouldn’t have spent his money on a lavish home. The house was small, cozy looking from what she could see of it from the single porch light casting its glow across the front. Intensely private, it was set back deep in the trees. It suited Danny perfectly.
She bet if she went inside, she’d find it sparsely, but comfortably furnished, with Danny’s typical piles of clothes and magazines littering every surface.
Danny emerged from the house and tossed a small black duffel in the backseat. He was largely silent on the drive across the bay, other than to ask Caroline exactly where they were headed so he could punch it into the Mercedes’ navigation system.
Caroline couldn’t get Lauren’s grief stricken face out of her head. Imagining the other woman’s pain cut her to the core. Money aside, Caroline understood the other woman’s choice. She’d learned through her experience with Kate that raising a child was hard even when there was family support and plenty of money. A scared, broke teenager with no one to fall back on barely stood a chance.
Yet she couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been, to carry a child, give birth to a healthy, perfect baby, then let someone else walk away with her, knowing you’d never see her again.
Caroline took a shaky breath and swallowed the baseball that had taken up permanent residence in her throat.
“You okay?”
“I can’t stop thinking about Lauren. About her baby.” About my baby. “How hard it must have been to give her up.” She swallowed back a sob.
“You’re pretty broken up over a stranger’s baby.”
“That my husband apparently helped her sell on the black market,” she reminded him. “I’m still a little shell-shocked from that. Besides, hearing Lauren made me think about Kate.” And me.
“Your stepdaughter, right. She’s got a kid.”
Caroline didn’t remember telling him that, but didn’t bother asking how he knew. It seemed no secret in the world was safe from Gemini Securities. “She got pregnant when she was nineteen. She’d just started her freshman year and she hooked up with a loser named Spike.” At Danny’s snort she said, “Seriously. That’s what he called himself. After Kate got pregnant, it was clear he was hoping to cash in on her trust fund. Instead, James cut them both off. Spike was out of there the first time Kate’s credit card was declined.”
“Sounds like exactly the kind of guy you want to blend DNA with.”
“It was another two months before I could convince Kate to move back in. She was so mad at James for running Spike off.”
“You wanted her to move back in? Why not let James write a check and let her live on her own?”
“I wanted her and the baby with us. She was young and scared and still needed her parents.” I was young and scared and needed someone to lean on. “And then when the baby came, I was able to help her.” She closed her eyes and breathed through her nose, able to conjure up the sweet baby smell of Mikey’s head.
Until Mikey, Caroline hadn’t had much experience with babies, but she took on the role of nursemaid like she’d been trained for it. The first year and a half of his life she’d seen him every day. Squeezed his plump little thighs when she changed his diaper. Walked him up and down the hall, singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” on an endless loop. Imagined what it would have been like with her own baby.
Kate and Mikey had moved out two and a half years ago, and Caroline understood Kate needed to be closer to school and they needed to have their own space.
That didn’t mean it didn’t break her heart.
“So you’re a grandmother then, aren’t you? What does that make you? A GILF?” Danny asked.
“A what?”
“Never mind,” he chuckled. Caroline wanted to press him but they had reached Melody and Patrick’s house, a beautiful Mediterranean style stucco house tucked back from the street.
Patrick answered the door when Caroline rang the doorbell. She couldn’t help returning his broad, friendly smile. He was a big, strapping Irishman with thick silver hair and a weathered, ruddy complexion. Like James, he’d aged extremely well. On the north side of fifty he was still fit, his belly flat, the muscles of his arms evident in the sleeves of his polo shirt.
She’d met Patrick a little over ten years ago, after she and James had been seeing each other for several months, and she’d liked him as soon as she met him. Unlike most of the friends and colleagues that she’d met, Patrick didn’t look her over like she was on an auction stage and follow it with a look at James so blatant it might as well have been a high five. Of all of James’s friends and colleagues, Patrick was the only one who seemed more interested in her brain than her bustline. He’d grilled her about where she was from, why she hadn’t gone to college, and if she thought she was prepared to be a stepmother to then thirteen-year-old Kate. Apparently satisfied with her answers, Patrick, and by association, Melody, had taken her under their collective wing and insured her acceptance into the country club social circles James ran in.
Since James’s death, Patrick had been Caroline’s rock, a big brother type who helped her with everything from funeral arrangements to using his influence to get Rachael Weller to represent her. As Caroline stepped over the threshold, Patrick opened his arms, and Caroline didn’t hesitate to step into his embrace.
“How are you doing, kid?” he asked as he released her with a warm pat on her shoulder. “Melody said you wanted to talk to us? About James?” Caroline nodded and he looked over her shoulder. “And this must be the private investigator you were talking about.”
Danny introduced himself and offered his hand. Patrick took it, and Caroline could see the muscles in his forearm tense as he squeezed Danny’s hand in an aggressive grip. The men locked stares, gray to blue, sizing each other up as they shook hands several seconds beyond courtesy.
“Ease up boys, okay?” Caroline said. “No need to break each other’s wrists.”
Patrick’s face creased in a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Caroline chalked up Patrick’s suspicious vibe to being protective of her. Patrick gave Danny’s hand one last pump before releasing it. “Melody’s waiting for us in the living room,” he said, motioning for Caroline to lead the way. “You’ll have to forgive me for not offering you a drink,” he said, his voice echoing off the high ceilings and hardwood floors, “but I have to get up early tomorrow to drive to Sacramento.”
“Another seminar?” Caroline asked. In addition to his busy radiology practice, Patrick also taught seminars in cutting-edge ultrasound and X-ray techniques.
Melody was curled up in the corner of the sofa with a book when they entered the living room. She smiled and put down her book before she stood and gave Caroline and Danny a dazzling smile. She wore leopard print silk lounging pajamas, and her usual full face of makeup. Her smile melted into a concerned frown when she got a closer look at Caroline. “Caroline honey, you look like you’re about to drop. Sit down.” She pushed Caroline onto the love seat and resumed her position on the couch.
Danny took the seat next to Caroline, his broad frame swallowing up the remainder of the small sofa. He rested his ankle on his knee and spread his arms across the padded back. His fingers barely grazed her shoulder.
She shifted as far away as possible and gained about an inch of extra space. She barely took a breath before Danny shifted imperceptibly and closed the gap. Caroline gave him a sidelong glance, but he was looking at Melody, his expression bland as Wonder Bread.
Bastard knew exactly what he was doing, crowding her like that, getting in her space.
“What did you want to talk about?” Patrick had taken a seat on the cushion next to his wife. His hand rested on her spotted, silk clad knee.
Caroline licked her lips and tried to figure out how to start. But Danny’s deep voice cut through the room before she could utter a syllable.
“As you know, I’m helping Caroline look into her husband’s murder,” he began.
“We’re exploring a connection he may have had to a shelter in San Mateo about eighteen years ago.”
“What kind of a shelter?” Melody asked.
“It’s a shelter for pregnant teens,” Danny said.
“I don’t understand what relevance James’s work at a shelter for pregnant teens would have on his murder investigation,” Patrick said, giving Caroline a confused frown.
“In a case like this, we need to follow every lead, no matter how obscure it seems,” Danny said. “We think James may have helped some of the girls find adoptive homes for their babies. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?”
Patrick shook his head. “James did a lot of family law, and I know he handled adoptions on occasion, but it was never anything we discussed in depth.”
“He never talked to you about his work at the shelter?” Danny asked.
Again, Patrick shook his head. “This is the first I’ve ever heard of it. When did you say this was again?”
“The time frame we’re looking at is between May and July of 1991.”
Melody rolled her eyes and she and Patrick exchanged a knowing look. “The year of hell,” Patrick said. “I barely saw James at all that year.”
“That was the year Susan was diagnosed for the first time,” Melody explained. “I didn’t know her that well then—Patrick and I had been married for about a year.”
“Mel was getting ready to have Jennifer, and I was picking up extra shifts at all the area hospitals. My ex-wife sued me for additional alimony—”
“We call her the leech,” Melody piped in, her smile straining around the edges.
Danny smiled faintly as they chuckled, but his eyes stayed locked on Patrick.
“But if she wasn’t such a money sucker, I might not have met you,” Patrick said with a smile for his wife. “I met Mel on one of my many extra shifts about a year before.”
“I remember Mel mentioning that,” Caroline said.
“Anyway,” Patrick continued, “James and I were both so busy, we barely saw each other for at least six months.” Patrick scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I’m trying to think if I saw him at all that summer.” He shook his head regretfully. “I wish I could help you.” His bushy gray eyebrows knit together over his bold beak of a nose. “Now explain to me again what you think this has to do with his murder.”
