Emily's Daughter
Page 15
He realized the girl was staring at him strangely and he brought his thoughts back to the reason he was here, which was hard because he’d been raised to have respect for women, and the idea of someone hitting this young girl filled him with disgust and anger. He took a deep breath and forced his personal feelings aside.
“I’m sure I sound like your dad,” he said.
She rolled the gum around on her tongue. “You don’t look like my dad,” she said. “You look damn good and I bet you’re real good,” she added brashly, leaving little doubt as to what she was talking about. They were getting way off track and he had to turn this conversation to his advantage.
He smiled deeply. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t, but if you’re interested, it’s Dawn Mercer.”
He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Dawn, I need your help.”
Something in his voice must have alerted her, because her jaw stopped working and she took a step backward. “Hey, if it’s about what you were asking Ms. Hale, you can forget it. She said no and that’s final. I just got this job and I’m lucky to have it.”
Jackson wasn’t deterred by her negative response. He was sure he could get through to her. “This is important and I’d be so grateful.
She gazed at him from beneath lowered lids. “How grateful?”
Jackson knew it would take a lot more than two hundred dollars to get information from her. He assumed she was after money. The other possibility he didn’t want to think about. Getting involved with this girl wasn’t even a remote option. It was repulsive.
He reached for his wallet and laid ten one-hundred dollar bills on the counter.
The girl gasped and her mouth fell open, obviously in shock.
Jackson kept on, speaking persuasively. “This money can be yours. All you have to do is let me see Emily Ann Cooper’s records.”
“Gosh, I could get my own place,” she mumbled. “I could go home. I haven’t seen my grandma in three years.”
“Where’s home?” he asked.
“Lubbock.”
“You can go to Lubbock and do a lot more with this money.”
“Yeah,” she answered, but she made no move to take the cash.
“Come on, Dawn, it’s not a hard decision.”
Her eyes jerked to his. “What if Ms. Hale catches us?”
“We have to hurry before she gets back. If she does, I’ll take the blame. I’ll say I sneaked past you or something. We don’t have much time, so make up your mind.”
“I don’t have a key.”
“But you know where the key is kept.”
“Yeah,” she said, but still she hesitated. Then all of a sudden she grabbed the money and went to the desk and came back with a key. “Come this way, and remember, I had nothing to do with this.”
He followed her through the office and down a hall. “What year?” she asked over her shoulder.
When he told her, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. “Gosh, that’s in the old filing room. I hate that place. It smells of dust and mildew.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, almost afraid she was going to change her mind. “Just show me where it is and I’ll do the looking.”
She whirled around and walked to the end of the hall, where she inserted the key into a lock. The metal door swung open and they stepped inside. As the dust filled his nostrils, he sneezed. The room was as unpleasant as she’d said. Filing cabinets lined each wall to the ceiling and a small table sat in the middle. There was no outside light of any kind. The place was like a tomb, and he shook off a sense of foreboding.
A light hung from the ceiling. She reached up to pull the dangling string. “I have to be at my desk. You’ve got ten minutes, then you have to leave. If Ms. Hale comes back, I’ll start coughing and you’d better hide until I can get you outta here.”
“Fine, thank you.”
“The years are on the front of each cabinet, so it shouldn’t be hard to find. Just be quick.”
She was nervous. So was Jackson, but he wasn’t quitting now. He glanced at the years on the cabinets and kept looking until he found the one he wanted. Then he searched for the letter C. He opened the drawer and a mildew smell met him. The papers were yellowed as if they’d gotten wet. He shuffled quickly through the files until…he saw it—Emily Ann Cooper. Elation ran through him. Ms. Snell had been lying. Miller Steels Agency had handled the adoption. He yanked the file out and carried it to the table and laid it under the light. His heart raced. In a moment, he’d know who had adopted their daughter.
He peered through the contents—just two pages, mostly information about Emily. The words at the bottom of the second page had his full attention. He couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. But there it was in bold letters: ADOPTION CANCELED.
The pain started in his stomach and spread to his heart and held it in a vise until he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything but stare at the words.
“No,” he moaned, sucking air into his tight lungs. Something was dreadfully wrong. Now he had to find out what. At the moment, though, he could barely think. He couldn’t take his eyes off the words.
The girl rushed in. “What’s taking so long? You have to get outta here.” She noticed his ashen face. “What is it?”
“Tell me what this means,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound like his. He didn’t even know why he was asking the question. He knew what the words meant, but he had to hear someone say them.
She peered over his arm. “That means the mother changed her mind and kept the baby.”
Kept the baby. Kept the baby. The words circled around and around in his head, but he refused to believe them. He wouldn’t. There had to be a mistake.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yeah, there’d be lots of info if the baby was adopted.”
“I see. Does a mother often change her mind?” For some reason, he had to keep talking.
“Sure, I almost did.”
His eyes focused on her face. “You had a baby?”
“Yeah, when I was fifteen.”
“How old are you now?”
“Eighteen.”
God, she was just a kid and had already lived more than most girls.
Her words penetrated his numb mind. “When my mom discovered I was pregnant, she kicked me out. I didn’t have anywhere to go. The Haven took me in, on the condition that I give up my baby. I said fine. I was fifteen and I didn’t have a job or know the first thing about raising a kid, but when he started to kick and move, he became real to me and I wanted to keep him. Then I met the adoptive parents and I saw they could give him a lot more than I could.”
“So you gave him away?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think about him?”
“Sometimes, but then I tell myself I gave him the greatest gift of all—a chance at a life. If he was with me, my boyfriend would probably beat on him, too.”
“What about the father?”
She shrugged. “He was sixteen and refused to admit it was his. Besides, we were too young to even think about being parents. Famous last words, huh?”
The girl’s words washed over him as Jackson tried to deal with painful emotions he couldn’t assimilate or understand.
Emily. Oh, Emily. What’s going on?
“Is the child you’re looking for with the mother?”
“No, that’s the problem. She’s not with her mother. I don’t know where she is.”
“Gosh, I’m sorry, but you have to leave. Ms. Hale could come back at any minute, especially if it’s a long labor.”
Jackson closed the file and returned it to the filing cabinet, then Dawn pulled the light string and they left. She locked the door with a final-sounding click.
As they reached the office, Dawn kept glancing toward the door. It was time to go; that was very clear. On impulse he pulled out his wallet, removed all the cash and laid it in front of her. He knew it was about eight hund
red. “Get rid of the abusive boyfriend and go home to your grandmother,” he said. “Lose the bleached hair, heavy makeup and tight clothes. Have some respect for yourself and you’ll find a man who will, too. Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.”
With that, he walked toward the front door, hoping that wherever his daughter was, she had someone looking out for her.
“Thank you,” she called after him. He heard her pick up the phone and hoped she was dialing Lubbock, Texas.
JACKSON HURRIED OUTSIDE and inhaled deeply. He needed the fresh air and sunshine, needed to be somewhere other than that gloomy place. But he still felt confused and overwhelmed, even in the bright light of day, with the busy streets around him and people who seemed to have blank faces. He was alone, struggling to make sense of everything that was happening, but all he could see were those words: ADOPTION CANCELED. Nothing else registered.
At his car, he placed his palms flat on the hood, as if he could draw from it the stability he needed. He gulped in some air and saw her face—Emily’s. He could hear the pain in her voice and see the sorrow in her eyes and he knew again that she wasn’t lying to him. A shuddering breath escaped him and it released the tightness in his chest. She wasn’t lying to him. Now that he’d firmly established that in his mind, he could go on. For a moment he’d been suspended in a realm of desolation and despair, but now he could breathe again. As long as he had faith in Emily, he could sort this out. And he would. First he had to find a way to tell her, though. How did he do that?
As he drove to his hotel room, thoughts ran riot in his head. If the adoption had been canceled, why didn’t Emily know? Maybe a wealthy and powerful family had adopted their daughter and they’d wanted to make sure no one could trace the child. Money talked. He’d been in business long enough to know that. If a sufficient amount of money changed hands, the records at the hospital and the agency could have been altered to suit the purposes of the adoptive parents. That was the only explanation he could think of, and if it was true, they would never see their daughter. That left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Back in his room, he paced and paced until he thought his brain would explode with so many disturbing questions. He had to talk to someone or he’d go crazy. He picked up the phone and called his father, hoping he’d be in the house and not out fishing.
When Jackson heard his voice, he experienced a moment of relief. As always, George wanted to know how the search was developing. Jackson told him what he’d found. George seemed as puzzled as he was about the information.
“I just don’t understand, son.”
“I don’t, either, but I’m trying to piece this together because I know Emily’s not lying to me.”
“Sounds like you and Emily have made progress.”
“We have, and if I don’t do anything else, I’m going to find our daughter—for her and for all the lousy years in between. I’m just scared.”
“About what?” George asked.
Jackson told him about his suspicions of a wealthy couple having all the records altered.
“I guess it’s a possibility, and I’ve also heard about babies being sold on the black market.”
“I couldn’t take that,” he groaned.
“You have to be prepared, son,” George said. “Because it appears that something’s going on that shouldn’t be.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He paused. “I saw the record of her birth at the hospital, but after that, there’s nothing.”
“What about a birth certificate?”
“The adoptive parents would’ve had that changed. The original is sealed in Austin. That would probably be my next step. I’ll call my lawyer to see—hey, wait a minute!”
“What?” George asked excitedly.
“If everything was on the up-and-up, there should be a record of her birth at the courthouse,” Jackson said, the blood pumping through his veins with accelerating speed. “I should’ve though of that, but my mind’s short-circuited. I’ll go…” He glanced at his watch and saw it was after five o’clock. “Damn, I can’t make it in time. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”
“Good,” George said. “That might answer some of your questions.”
“I hope so.” Jackson echoed the sentiments. “I’ll call when I can.”
“Oh, Jackson,” George said before he could hang up.
“What?”
“Do you mind if I tell Maudie?”
Jackson wasn’t sure what to say.
“She won’t tell anyone. I just need to talk to someone.”
Jackson knew the feeling. “Fine, but I don’t want her calling me with a lot of questions, okay?”
“I’ll make certain that doesn’t happen.”
Jackson had to grin. His dad had as much control over Aunt Maude as he had over the weather, but she was family and would learn about this eventually. And Jackson didn’t want to keep it a secret. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
“I’m taking her out to dinner tonight,” his father was saying.
“Glad to hear that. Tell her I said hi.”
JACKSON STROLLED TO the River Walk and ordered dinner at the same place he and Emily had eaten that first night. But this time, the people, the camaraderie and the jovial atmosphere left him untouched. He missed Emily and he wanted to see her and talk to her. The need was so strong he had a hard time finishing his meal.
He went back to the room and called her. It was good to hear her voice, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t tell her what he’d found out, not over the phone. He had to see her face-to-face. He comforted himself with the thought that tomorrow he might have some answers and could put an end to these unsettling events.
EMILY HUNG UP THE PHONE with a frown. Something was different. She could hear it in Jackson’s voice. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but he wasn’t as enthusiastic about finding their daughter as he’d been before. He seemed resigned or disillusioned. She couldn’t decide which, and she wondered if there was something he wasn’t telling her. Something bad. No, she wouldn’t think like that. She just wished she could be with him, but he’d said he was going to the Bexar County courthouse to look for a birth certificate, which didn’t make any sense because there wouldn’t be one. After that, he planned to return to Rockport. That meant he did have something to tell her. She felt an uncanny sense of dread.
Becca burst into the room, drying her hair with a towel.
“Becca,” Emily complained, “why did you wash your hair? We need to get to the hospital as soon as possible. I want to catch the doctor to see when we can bring Mom home. She’s responding very well to the new medication.”
Becca sat at her makeup table and ran her fingers through her long, wet hair. “What’s the big deal? You’ve been there all day, and you can call the doctor.”
Emily let out a long sigh. “Don’t try my patience tonight.”
Becca turned to face her. “What’s the matter? You seem really tense.”
“Nothing.” Emily dismissed Becca’s question with a wave of her hand.
“You’re upset,” Becca insisted. “You’ve talked to Jackson, haven’t you.”
Emily glanced down at her hands and didn’t say anything.
Becca got up to sit beside her on the bed. “He hasn’t found anything on your daughter?”
“No,” Emily murmured.
Becca hugged her. “Sorry, Em.”
“It’s all right.” Emily brushed away a tear. “I’ve been praying and hoping, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
“Sorry,” Becca said again, then her face brightened, “Oh, I forgot to tell you. I volunteered you as a sponsor for the prom.”
“What?” Emily’s eyes opened wide.
“Well, one of the sponsors has the flu and Mrs. Becker was in a panic. I told her my big sister would be glad to fill in. Besides, don’t you want to see if I get to be queen?”
Emily smiled, some of the sadness leaving her. “Yes, I wouldn’t want
to miss that.”
“Good, ’cause I also volunteered you to help us decorate. We’re having it in Corpus at a ballroom because our gym’s too small.”
“Becca!”
“Well, Mom and Dad don’t like to do those kinds of things and I thought you would.”
“I need to spend this time with Mom. That’s why I’m here instead of with Jackson.”
Becca’s face fell and Emily cursed herself.
“You’d do it for her,” Becca mumbled.
Emily didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. She knew. Becca was becoming very jealous of Emily’s daughter—a daughter Becca felt was threatening their relationship.
Emily smoothed the wet strands of her sister’s hair. “I’ll do it for you, too.”
“You will?” Becca asked hopefully.
“Yes, and Saturday when we get your hair done for the prom, we’re getting it cut.”
“Ah, jeez, Em. You’re taking the fun out of it.”
Emily smiled into her gorgeous eyes, knowing that no matter what happened she would always have Becca. She just wished Becca wasn’t so jealous of her daughter. The odds of finding that elusive daughter were getting slimmer and slimmer. She quickly suppressed the sobs that welled up in her throat.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JACKSON DIDN’T SLEEP MUCH. He was too nervous. He was up at dawn, ate breakfast in his room, then went for a walk. After that, he headed for the courthouse and waited for it to open. If their daughter was adopted, there’d be no record of her birth, except in her adoptive parents’ name. He had to see if there was a birth record under Baby Girl Cooper. If not, he’d know with certainty that something underhanded had happened.
The woman at the desk was very polite and immediately directed him to someone else. Jackson thought this would be another runaround, but when he told the second woman what he wanted, she smiled and asked how he was related to the person on the certificate. He told her he was the baby’s father. She said she’d need some identification. He wasn’t surprised because he’d researched it on the Internet and knew exactly what the procedure was. They didn’t give information out freely. He showed her his driver’s license, his social security card and a copy from the hospital records that identified him as the father. She inspected the papers and said it would take a while, but she would get it. Jackson stood at the desk tapping his fingers impatiently, then stopped doing that, and started to pace. He couldn’t be still.