by Sharp, Tracy
“Did she?” I asked her.
“For herself. Yes,” she said.
“Taryn said that she changed her mind about keeping her baby. Did that happen to you?” Jack asked her.
Hailey shook her head. “No, I hadn’t changed my mind. But I had a bad feeling and I wanted to get out of there.”
“What happened, Hailey?” I asked her.
She took a deep breath, her eyes becoming distant as she replayed the memory. “I overheard Adrian talking on the phone. I don’t know who she was talking too, but she was throwing around dollar amounts. She was talking about me and the baby I was carrying. I was blonde with blue eyes, and so was the father. She had asked me about his hair and eye color when she was taking down my information before I entered the house. I didn’t know what that had to do with anything when she was asking me, but it hit me then, listening to her on the phone. Apparently fair haired babies with blue eyes, especially boys, net a lot more money in the black market than babies with darker coloring.” She shook her head. “So do redheads, incidentally.”
Jack and I looked at each other. She’d actually said it. Black market.
She nodded at us. “Yeah. My baby would bring in more than the other girls’ babies. So they had to make sure I didn’t go anywhere.”
“Jesus,” Jack said.
“I felt like I had to get out of there. I wasn’t keeping my baby but I didn’t want him to be sold to somebody. He wasn’t a puppy for Christ’s sake.”
“Did you try to leave?” I asked her.
“Yes. I did.” She took a deep breath. Her eyes grew wet.
I leaned forward. “Hailey. I know this is really hard. But we need to know. We are looking to put Adrian Mandell out of business permanently, and have her answer for what’s she done, what she’s been doing, for all these years. Your story could help us do that.”
She looked at her hands in her lap. “I tried to leave. I was really close to giving birth. I waited until two a.m. The doors were locked from the inside. A fact I hadn’t realized until then. There were bars on the ground floor windows. To protect us, they said. I panicked and climbed out a second story window. Somehow I made my way down to the ground without breaking anything or hurting myself too badly. I just kind of twisted my ankle a little. I don’t even remember how I got down.” She stopped, for a moment then took a shaky breath. “I made it as far as the road, planning on flagging down a car. A couple whizzed past me, not even slowing down. I was so scared.” She shook her head, her voice cracking.
Jack and I nodded, listening.
“I made it maybe a mile down the road before one of Adrian’s men caught up with me. He stopped the car in the middle of the road. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to give out. I heard it pounding in my ears, and for just a moment, I heard the baby’s tiny heartbeat, so much faster than mine. For just that instant, I heard it.” Her voice grew thick with tears. “He had no one to rely on, no one to look out for him. Only me.” She wiped her tears away with the fingers from both hands and sighed heavily. “Adrian’s goon grabbed me and dragged me to the car, and pushed me in.”
I felt my blood boiling. Anger made me grit my teeth. I glanced at Jack. His set jaw told me that he was gritting his teeth too.
“They put me in a locked room. They drugged me. When I woke up, my baby was gone.”
Nobody spoke for a long moment. Finally, Jack said, “Jesus Christ.”
“My baby was gone,” she said again, her face stricken, as if it had happened mere moments ago. “That day, Adrian cheerfully packed me up and sent me back home. That’s the last time I saw her. I never heard about my son after that. I don’t think he was ever told who I was or how to contact me if he wanted to. He probably doesn’t even know he was adopted.”
She was probably right. In the black market, if the children are ever told that they were adopted at all, most times they are told that their biological parents are dead. Just like Adrian had told us we’d have to do when she was horny for our money and had considered selling an infant to us.
“You never tried to contact Adrian?”
“No.” Her voice was flat.
“Did you ever tell anybody about being drugged? Or about money being exchanged for babies?”
“No, I didn’t.” She looked at Jack, then me. “Who would’ve believed me?”
She made a good point. She was a pregnant teenager who had given her baby up. Who would’ve believed her?
And more to the point, who would’ve wanted to know?
***
Elena Katlan, another woman whose name had appeared in Taryn’s address book, had not changed her name. Her phone number was not the same, but we did a search of her name on the internet and there she was on Facebook© under her maiden name. She also had a blog which she used to allow women who had similar experiences with giving up their babies could tell their stories. Her blog allowed mothers and the children they had given up to find one another.
She had an area on the site which allowed people to share their information, the circumstances under which they’d given up their babies. Also any links, such as their websites, blog sites and email they wanted to share so that their long lost loved ones would be able to find them. This was all assuming, of course, that the children they’d given up were even aware that they had a mother somewhere other than the one they had known as their mother all their lives.
Elena did not list a phone number on her blog, but she did list an email. Jack dashed one off to her, asking her to share her story about being at Adrian’s home for unwed mothers back then. He explained that we had our sights on shutting Adrian and her cohorts completely down. He gave her both our cell numbers.
We had a response from her within a half hour. She called his cell phone.
“Where are you located?” Jack asked her, after listening to her for a time. He winked at me, and slowly nodded his response to her, as if she could see him nodding. “Okay. Sounds good, Elena. Thanks for calling us.” He ended the call and held his cell in his hand tightly, shaking it back and forth a little with a grin.
“Well don’t keep me in suspense,” I said, excitement blooming in my chest. “What did she say?”
“She said she’d been waiting for somebody to contact her with a plan like ours. Her efforts to expose Adrian have gone on deaf ears apparently. Adrian’s a well-known and respected member of her community. So they say.”
“Why, with so many women who have similar stories to share, wouldn’t anyone listen?” I asked him.
“Because, Adrians husband has a lot of clout. He is the D.A in Philly, and the word is that he has political aspirations. He comes from a very powerful, prominent family in Philadelphia.”
“So?”
“Leah, you know the drill by now. He’s got the law and the media in his pocket.”
“Well, he’s never dealt with the likes of us before, has he?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I think not. But he’s about to.”
***
Before we got to the truck, though, the office phone rang. Jack and I both eyed it, looking at each other, before he reached over and picked it up. We wanted to get out of there. Get to doing something. But at this stage in the game, that call could be from anyone.
But it wasn’t just anyone. It was a woman named Jamie Holland. She’d been one of the young girls who had given her baby up to Adrian Mandell, once upon a time.
***
Jamie knew of Elena. In fact, she had been reading Elena’s blog for several months and was trying to get up the nerve to contact her, maybe ask her for help finding her son. Jamie was local, so Jack invited her along with us. She said she’d follow us in her car.
We met her at a rest stop off I87. She was a small, dark haired woman with short cropped hair. She was standing against a silver Honda, arms crossed when we drove in. We parked in the spot beside her and climbed out of Jack’s truck.
Her huge blue eyes regarded us with a mix of cur
iosity and caution. She was a pretty woman, but she wore trepidation around her like a cloak. Still, she stepped forward and offered her small hand to Jack first. “Jack and Leah.” She’d said it matter-of-factly. “I’m Jamie.” She offered her hand to me and gave me a tiny smile.
I looked down at her and smiled back. She couldn’t have stood more than five-one. “It’s nice to meet you. Thanks for coming with us.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said.
We stood in awkward silence for a moment, not knowing what to say. The reasons for us coming together were not exactly cheerful ones.
Finally Jack said, “Do you need anything at the rest stop while we’re here?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m ready to go, if you two are.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to travel with us in our vehicle?” I asked her.
“I’m fine in my car. Thanks.”
Really, she didn’t know us at all, so it was a wise choice. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get hit the road.”
Elena was in Salem, NY. About an hour from Albany, Jack cranked the tunes while the sun beamed down all around us. We didn’t talk much, but both of us snuck peeks at the rearview and side mirrors. We didn’t know what to expect, but this woman left us feeling protective of her. I could sense it in him and I felt it in myself. Something about how she held herself so tightly, showing a brave face while peering between the bars of her defenses, made us want to protect her.
Jack was excellent with direction, me, not so much. He found Elena’s house easily a ranch house on a sprawling stretch of land. Horses hung out within a round, fenced in area, regarding us with steady dark eyes.
The cold air had turned frigid. The wind had picked up, turning a crisp winter day icy. The bright sun was deceiving as a bitter wind all but stole my breath away and left my skin feeling raw and stinging.
A tall woman with shoulder length auburn hair came toward us, a smile on her face.
“Elena?” I said, offering my hand.
“Yes,” she said, choosing to hug me instead. It felt a little odd to me, but I let myself be gathered into her embrace for a few seconds.
“Jack,” she said, turning her hug onto him.
A car door slammed and I turned to see Jamie emerge from her Honda. She approached with her hands pushed deep down into the pockets of her black pea coat. The short locks of her hair were being tousled by the wind. She approached with her chin tucked slightly and her eyes moving between the ground and Elena.
“And who might this be?” Elena said, smiling warmly, as if she were talking about a four year old.
“Elena, my name is Jamie Holland.” Her voice was muffled by the wind.
Elena nodded, her smile faltering just a little as she waited.
“Adrian Mandell stole my son from me eleven years ago.”
Elena reached for her, took Jamie’s stiff little body into her embrace. “Thanks for coming, Jamie. I’m glad you’re here.”
***
Elena led us to the house. A wrap-around porch spanned the entire front of the house and disappeared around the back. Inside, the intoxicating smells of home cooking made me feel dizzy with hunger. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and my stomach protested loudly.
Elena grinned at me as she closed the door behind us. “Hungry?”
“You heard that, huh?” I said, moving a hand over my belly.
“I’ve got homemade minestrone soup in the kitchen and fresh baked bread cooling on the table.” She gestured us into a large, homey living room with huge, fluffy furniture.
“Guess we came on the right day,” Jack said.
“Make yourselves at home. I’ll set the table,” she said.
“I’ll help you,” Jamie said.
“Sure,” Elena said. “You two hang out here, if you like.”
“We can help too,” Jack said.
“Having too many cooks in the kitchen is never a good thing,” Elena said. “We’ll be fine.”
It was clear that Elena wanted to spend a few minutes with Jamie, alone. I was tired. I plopped down into a chair and watched as Jack roamed the living room, examining knick-knacks, photographs, and periodically looking out the window at the horses.
I sighed. My eyes felt heavy. I could easily drop off to sleep listening to the normal, comforting sounds coming from the kitchen, and knowing that Jack was near me. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
***
“Leah.”
In the space between waking and sleeping I felt my father’s hand gently shaking my arm. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”
But it was Jack’s face I saw smiling at me. He was crouched down, looking at me at eye level, his eyes searching mine. “You’re tired, my friend.”
“I know.” I felt disoriented, and it took me a moment to remember where I was.
Jamie stepped in behind Jack, looking down at me. “You conked out.”
“Yeah,” was all I said. I pushed myself up. My eyes felt as though they had sand in them and I blinked several times to moisten them.
“Dinner’s ready,” Elena said from the dining room. “But I have three guest rooms. You’re all welcome to stay the night, if you like. You all seem pretty whipped.”
We headed into the dining room toward the large, square table. It was a beauty, with pine knots showing through the varnish. The soup looked delicious and smelled even better. “That’s a really kind offer, but Jack and I will be fine,” I said. Although I really did want to lie down.
Elena shrugged. “Okay. But the offer will still stand if you change your mind.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“All right. Find a seat and dig in.”
We didn’t talk about baby brokers or stolen babies. We kept the conversation light, and it was the most relaxing, enjoyable meal I’d had in a long time. We all were aware of the need to chill out for a little while, because the topic we were about to discuss would take the energy out of us, and we’d all be emotionally drained by the end of the night.
Finally, once the table was cleared and the dishes placed in the dishwasher, we settled into the living room with mugs of rich, strong coffee.
Elena excused herself and the sound of the door off the kitchen opened, followed by the quick clicking of canine toenails on her tiled floor as two large German Shepherds made their way across the kitchen and into the room.
“Bonnie and Clyde,” Elena said by way of introduction.
“Gorgeous dogs,” Jack said, running a large hand over Bonnie’s back.
“Thank you. They’re my babies.” Elena sat on the couch and smiled, looking at the dogs with obvious pride.
“Ooooh, aren’t you the handsome guy?” Jamie cooed at Clyde, and he rolled over on his back and offered her his belly.
“Wow. I think he’s in love,” Elena said.
Jamie looked up and the smile on her face was that of a little girl. She was lit up like a Christmas tree. I was betting that people didn’t see that smile all that often. That smile was reserved for creatures who would never judge, betray, or otherwise hurt her, which left most humans out.
But the smile fell away when she remembered why we were all here.
Her eyes dropped back to Clyde, and both her hands moved over him as he sat in front of her, guarding her. Even Bonnie moved up beside her and stretched out. It seemed that even dogs sensed her vulnerability.
“I’ll start,” she said, not looking up at us.
“Okay,” Elena said. “Take your time. There’s no rush here.”
Jack and I both leaned forward, forearms resting on our legs. Jesus. Had we been friends for that long? We even moved the same way?
“I was sixteen when I got pregnant. So was the boy. We were not prepared, of course, to be parents. I didn’t want to get an abortion. My mother died when I was only seven years old, and my father had no idea how to take care of a pregnant girl. He found Bright Futures in the yellow pages.” She paused, her eyes growing far away as she remembered
. “The newspaper ad boasted a homey residence for unwed mothers who wanted to give their babies a bright future. All expenses paid. We didn’t have a lot of money, and it sounded like the answer we were looking for.”
Elena nodded, her eyes tender, like she’d heard this same story over and over.
“A representative of Bright Futures was sent to come to the house to speak to us. She told us that the adoption laws in NY were such that my baby would not be adopted right away, but instead could spend an indefinite amount of time in foster care.”
Elena’s face grew hard and she glanced at the ceiling, then back at Jamie, still nodding. “Yes, that is the carrot they dangle in front of young, scared girls who want the best for their babies. They play on your fear that your baby will be stuck in a dirty house, filled with unloved children who are running wild in dirty diapers while the foster parents watch game shows all day and collect checks from the government for housing them.”
“Yes.” Jamie’s eyes were alight with anger. “Exactly.”
Elena looked turned to me and Jack. “It’s a common tactic baby brokers use to get the mother out of state where she’ll have no friends or family around her. Also, often times the adoption agency is being investigated for shady practices in the particular state the girl is living in, and so they need to get her away and into a different state where they haven’t been caught on to yet.”
“Lovely,” I said. “These people have no conscience.”
Elena shook her head. “No, Leah. They really don’t.”
“It gets better,” Jamie said. “By the time I was in my ninth month of pregnancy, I was in a panic. I felt like just an incubator to them. They were completely disinterested in me and only interested in the baby. There was no talk of what would happen to me after I gave birth. They tried to get me to sign a document, stating that my signature would ensure that the adoption would be open and that I’d get pictures and updates on my son, and that the adoptive family and I would meet twice a year and on holidays and on his birthday so that I could see him. But something about the way they were so adamant about me signing made me hesitate, and Adrian became really angry. She started yelling at me. So I wanted to leave. I said I’d changed my mind.”
