Her Lost and Found Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Which was part of what ate at her. Shouldn’t she have known? How could she not have known?

  “The police said later that it was obvious he’d been planning to take Jackson for some time. He’d just been waiting until his mother’s death. He’d made arrangements to have her buried with no visitation or services, and he’d bought the casket and grave site months before.”

  There’d been more. Emptied bank accounts. Visits to the dark web, visiting sites where one could learn about fake IDs. Purchase them, even. He was a smart man with a plan.

  “I had refused to be his new codependent,” she said now, relaying what an analyst with the police had told her. “Unfortunately, I gave birth to the perfect alternative. Like mother, like son. Jackson was the perfect gift...”

  One she hadn’t meant to give Mark. One she’d never forgive herself for letting go.

  One she’d been looking for ever since.

  Now it was time to get him back.

  Chapter Eight

  “So, what are you asking me to do?” Mallory Harris’s tone gave nothing away. Johnny was impressed. He couldn’t tell whether Tabitha had won her over or not.

  She’d won consideration, at least. For Tabitha’s sake, that pleased him.

  “We need evidence that will lead to a warrant,” he began.

  “You want me to get Jason’s DNA?” Mallory was frowning. “I don’t think—”

  “No way,” Braden interjected, shaking his head. “That would—”

  “No,” Johnny interrupted, looking at both of them. Tabitha had done her part and it was his turn. Feeling as though her quest lay on his shoulders now, he said, “Any DNA you collect could be disallowed in court,” he said. “Collecting it without Matt’s knowledge could also put you in legal jeopardy.” And he truly cared about that. “When we get DNA, it needs to come with the proper chain of evidence. And Tabitha and I want it to be very clear to both of you that we have no intention of involving you in anything that would create a threat to either one of you or your businesses.”

  He turned to Tabitha who was nodding profusely.

  His task was to protect—all of them. He could do that.

  “So what do you need from me?” Mallory asked again.

  Tabitha’s sudden clutching of his knee under the table derailed his thoughts. But only for a second. “We need information,” he said. “You’ve already told us his last name, Jamison. That’s a good start. Anything else you might notice, any conversation that could be pertinent.” He nodded at Braden. As one of the trainer’s clients, he could be a great help, too.

  “It’s not like Jason’s going to be able to tell me much,” Mallory said before Braden could comment. “He was only a year old when he came to us. He’s just now starting to talk in complete sentences.”

  Tabitha jolted beside him, sitting up straighter. She’d let go of his knee, but her leg pressed against his.

  “When you first met him, what words was he saying?” she asked.

  Mallory shook her head slowly. “I can’t remember anything specific, although I might’ve made some notes in his file. I have fifteen one-and two-year-olds, most of them since soon after birth. We split them up into two classes of seven, based on a number of parameters. Because Jason was a year old when he came in, I would’ve jotted down a few points so I could track his developmental progress to know where to place him.”

  Pulling a folded sheet out of her purse, Tabitha passed it to Mallory. “I copied these out of his baby book. These are the words he was saying a year ago, along with what they meant.”

  Johnny wished he’d been privy to that information. He’d involved her in every aspect of the Angel’s Food Truck part of their enterprise from logo design to—

  Emotions that had no place in his life dropped into the current meeting. He gave them the boot.

  Mallory still had her head bent, studying the handwritten, slightly worn piece of unfolded notebook paper. He’d get it into a page protector when she finished. Have it ready for next time.

  If there was a next time.

  “Sha sha,” she said. “I remember Jason saying that, looking up at me like he wanted something and I couldn’t figure out what it was.”

  For real? Johnny stared, seeing the worn sheet as possible evidence now.

  “It’s a pretty common sound, isn’t it?” Braden’s tone wasn’t unkind or even unfriendly. His practicality spoke to Johnny, bringing him out of the weird funk he’d begun to sink into.

  “Yeah,” Mallory said. “A lot of the sounds babies make when they’re learning to talk are similar. You say here that he said it every time you passed a hamburger joint he recognized. He wanted French fries.”

  Johnny felt Tabitha’s trembling knee against his. He wanted to look her in the eye. To connect, give her strength. But her entire focus was on Mallory.

  “He loved them,” she said.

  “I remember sha sha in particular because his eyes were so serious when he said it, which made me think he was used to having that word understood. I asked Matt about it that night and he told me Jason was asking for potatoes.”

  French fries were one form of potatoes. Babies all made similar sounds. And yet...

  Sha sha used by two babies for the same vegetable prepared differently would sway some members of a jury. Or a judge.

  “This is the kind of stuff we need,” Johnny said. “Or anything Matt might inadvertently say that the police can take to a judge, along with all the other similarities, to request a warrant for DNA samples.”

  “You want me to record my conversations with Matt?” Mallory asked.

  Johnny shook his head before Braden could object—which, judging by the instant frown that had appeared on his face, he’d been about to do. Johnny didn’t blame him. “Absolutely do not record any conversations,” he said. “California is a two-party consent state, meaning that, unlike many states, in California you need consent from all parties in a conversation before you can record it. You’d be breaking the law to do anything else so, please, do not even go there. You would not only not be helping us, but you’d be harming yourself.” He needed to be completely clear about this. To protect Tabitha, too. There could be no appearance that she was asking anyone to break the law on her behalf.

  He started to sweat. Wanted a beer. He felt things were getting out of hand. Looking at pictures, visiting daycares, going home and supporting your next-door neighbor as she grieved for her missing son was no-brainer stuff. Accusing a real live man of kidnapping and involving the guy’s associates, possibly even friends, involving others whose actions were completely unpredictable and out of your control—he didn’t like it.

  Tabitha had hardly sipped her tea and they’d yet to have dinner. She’d made him a snack from the day’s leftovers as they’d closed up the truck, reminding him that they had this meeting and that he got cranky when he missed a meal. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. But remembering now...

  When had they grown so familiar with each other? How had they reached the point where pressing knees under the table meant something?

  “The truth is, we’re not sure what we’re looking for.” Johnny didn’t like that. “His last name might be all we need if the police can use it to verify that he is who he says he is. But unless he has a criminal record, it’s also possible that he paid for a new identity that would pass through police databases. Keeping your eyes and ears open for anything that might be a clue, or that could, alternatively, clear Matt... We’re going with the hope that when we see it, hear it, find it, we’ll know.”

  Mallory’s eyes were clouded with concern and warm with empathy as she glanced toward Tabitha.

  “Then we’ll take our list of coincidences to the police and hope to God it’ll be enough to justify a warrant.” For Tabitha’s sake, he hoped that if it got as far as contacting the police, they’d ha
ve more to go on than they did at present. “We’ve also got a private investigator helping us, just so you know.”

  Braden spoke up. “Or we could find something that clears Matt, and then there’d be no reason to go to the police.” His glass of tea was half empty.

  Johnny leaned forward. “It’s imperative that you not let Matt know Tabitha’s in the area, that he’s suspected of kidnapping his son or that he’s being investigated,” he stated in his most intimidating lawyer tone. “I cannot stress this enough.”

  “There’s nothing illegal about looking out for a friend,” Braden said, but he seemed to be feeling his way more than asserting an intention. “And Matt’s become a friend.”

  “If he’s innocent, none of this is going to hurt him. And if he’s not, then you telling him will most likely cause him to run again, which will put the life of a two-year-old boy in jeopardy.”

  Braden didn’t seem convinced enough to suit Johnny. “Let’s look at this another way,” he said, becoming a lawyer completely for the first time since he’d started his sabbatical. “If Tabitha’s right, and Jason really is her kidnapped son, Jackson, and you knew about the possibility and refused to help, it could look like you were harboring a criminal.” He was getting into the swing of it. “Here are different ways the headlines could read. Daycare Owner Helps Return Kidnapped Toddler. Daycare Owner Helps Catch Kidnapper of Child in Her Care. Or, Daycare Owner, Housed in Building Owned by Ex-Husband, Cared for Kidnapped Child—or Harbored Kidnapped Child. Or how about his one? Ex-Husband of Daycare Owner Rents Business Space to Kidnapper...”

  “I’m not going to put my business reputation above loyalty to a friend,” Braden said, meeting Johnny’s gaze head-on. Trouble was, although Braden was shaping up to be a pain in his ass, Johnny kind of liked the guy.

  Who wouldn’t see value in a man who stood by his ex-wife and put friends before business?

  “What about the other tenants in your building? If your business takes a hit, so, likely, will theirs. Don’t they deserve your loyalty, too? And what about Mallory’s business?”

  Braden didn’t respond.

  “Say it gets out,” Johnny went on, “that someone—Tabitha—suspected her kidnapped son was in Mallory’s care. Even if it turns out not to be true, what if Mallory did everything she could to help that mother find peace, while also protecting the health and safety of the child in her care? But if you say something to Matt, and he does turn out to be Mark and runs...or if Mallory didn’t do anything to help...”

  “Enough,” Mallory said as Tabitha started to fidget beside him. “Get the testosterone brain off the table for a minute.” She softened the words with a sincere-sounding, “Please.”

  She looked at her ex-husband. “I know you’re training with Matt, and I won’t ask you not to, but I think everything else in this situation is my call.”

  Braden met his ex-wife’s eye. For a very long moment.

  Johnny watched with interest, amazement, even. He’d known a lot of divorced couples, had studied difficult cases in law school, and had never seen anything like this. They seemed to have a divorce agreement much like the relationship compromises worked out between still-married couples. The most impressive part was that it appeared to work for them.

  Just being there together seemed to proclaim that.

  For a second, he envied them...

  Braden nodded, conceding that the decision on how to proceed was Mallory’s. Johnny felt Tabitha stiffen beside him. She was staring at Mallory.

  As if she thought they were down to the moment she’d been both dreading and needing. She didn’t seem to get that they’d passed that moment a while back. Mallory was in. All that was left was the formality of a verbal agreement.

  “So we can expect your complete cooperation?” He looked from Mallory to Braden.

  “Of course,” Mallory said, and Johnny felt the air leave Tabitha almost as though she’d been deflated. He might have made a joke, if not for the seriousness of the moment. Or put an arm around her—if he wasn’t Johnny and she wasn’t Tabitha of the life-quest partnership.

  “Where do we begin?” Mallory asked, clearly unaware of the strange undercurrent between Tabitha and Johnny all of a sudden.

  Or, at least, Johnny’s reactions. Based on the subtle changes in Tabitha’s behavior, Johnny suspected the vibes weren’t just his, but he could be wrong. The changes in her could easily be explained by the growing circumstantial proof of her certainty that she’d finally found her son.

  “I suggest we all order some dinner.” Johnny blurted the first thing that came to mind that he deemed appropriate.

  “I agree with that.” Braden smiled for the first time since joining them. “But I have to tell you, just to be fair, that I don’t buy this Matt being a kidnapper stuff for a second.”

  “Mark had a habit of biting the right corner of his lower lip.” Tabitha spoke directly to Braden. “Have you ever seen Matt do that?”

  Johnny watched her, impressed that she was homing in on viable facts to compel a warrant. And, again, he felt a bit...bothered that he hadn’t already known that. Was he her partner or not?

  “I haven’t,” Braden said.

  Johnny ordered a pitcher of beer for the table.

  He couldn’t speak for the rest of them, but he needed a drink.

  Chapter Nine

  “I swear to you, I will check that child carefully, every day.” Mallory’s tone held the kind of bone-deep promise that women gave to women. They stood together on the passenger side of Johnny’s small SUV outside the pub. The guys were behind the car, also involved in conversation.

  They’d had dinner together with frustratingly little conversation about Tabitha’s quest. She’d made small talk while her whole purpose for being there lay like the proverbial elephant on the table between them.

  “I can only imagine how horribly, impossibly hard this has to be...” Mallory took her hand. Squeezed it.

  Uncomfortable with the contact, and yet strengthened and warmed by it, too, Tabitha nodded. Not trusting herself to speak, she tried to smile. To find the emotional boundaries that allowed her to get through some of life’s most difficult moments.

  “I’ll make sure I have personal time with him every day,” Mallory continued. “I’ll be on the lookout for any changes in behavior, for anything he might say that could give cause for concern. I’ll do my best to see that he seems as happy and well-adjusted as always.”

  “Does he really talk in full sentences?” The question was so hard for Tabitha to ask. All the things she’d missed—not knowing about her own son’s growth, his progress...and needing to know so desperately.

  “He does.” Mallory nodded. “And quite confidently, as well.”

  Tabitha felt the tears overcoming her, and Mallory must have noticed as she gave her hand another squeeze. “I don’t remember his weight and height exactly, but he’s pretty much average size. All our parents have to provide proof of inoculations and regular medical exams.”

  The medical records... Tabitha’s heart jolted and then slowed. They’d be under the assumed name, of course.

  “Jackson was a little small for his age at six months,” she said aloud. “But he was average at the next two visits...” The last two Tabitha had had with him.

  It sounded as though the guys were wrapping up. Tabitha had to know, had to ask Mallory... “So, you really think Jason is Jackson? You believe me?”

  The woman’s expression never faltered. “I believe there’s a possibility,” Mallory said softly, her tone and her gaze overflowing with compassion. “It won’t hurt Jason to have me watching over him, even if he’s not Jackson. And I won’t be giving you any information that could put me in legal jeopardy,” she added, referring back to the only real conversation they’d had about Tabitha’s quest once dinner was ordered. Johnny had provided a rundown on things
Mallory and Braden should and shouldn’t do.

  Tabitha wanted more. Needed more. Hoped for more. But it was more than she’d had that morning. A thousand times more. “Thank you.”

  Johnny was almost at his car door, while Braden waited for Mallory.

  Johnny and Tabitha would be heading back to Mission Viejo the next day—Tabitha was on the weekend shift again, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Her task now was to compile a list of everything she could remember about Jackson and Mark—mannerisms, word choices, likes and dislikes. Anything that might lead them to something significant that Mark and Matt had in common, even if it was just so many similarities that they’d be hard to explain as mere coincidence.

  “I’ll see you Monday night, then,” Tabitha said, giving Mallory’s hand one last squeeze before turning toward her door. The two couples had agreed to meet for dinner again the first night Tabitha and Johnny were back in town.

  “Tabitha?” Mallory called her back.

  Tabitha turned.

  “Jason has blue eyes,” she said, her voice, even her lips, trembling. And then, before Tabitha could so much as thank her for offering renewed hope, Mallory was gone.

  * * *

  On the drive back to the hotel, Johnny waited for Tabitha to say something...anything. Even “They seemed like a nice couple” would’ve been good.

  His mind spun with all the things he wanted from her—conversations he wanted to have. What had she thought about the fact that the Harrises were divorced but still appeared to be friends? Was it because, like him and Tabitha, they were close without any of the messy stuff getting in the way?

  In friendship. Not in love.

  Glancing at her, he got nothing. Not a glance back. And not a clue as to what she was thinking. The meeting had gone as well or better than she could have expected. She had exactly what she wanted. An “in.”