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  “So you would have been on your own with an infant, right? You, a teenager without a home or anyone to support you or even a high school diploma. Where would you have taken the baby? Back to one of those cheap hotel rooms? No, you were out of money. A homeless shelter? Maybe you could have applied for welfare and gotten it, although it takes awhile to get on the rolls. There you would have been: an unwed teenage mother without a high school diploma, surviving on welfare. And that’s absolute best-case scenario.”

  His hand came up to stroke her cheek, and then a finger tilted up her chin. “Open your eyes, Grace, and look at me.”

  Unwillingly she did as he said. His eyes were warm with tenderness for her. Tenderness she did not deserve.

  “I almost backed out of marrying Glenna, you know. I got cold feet at the last second and almost left her at the altar. If I hadn’t married her, we wouldn’t have had Rachel, and I would have been spared the pain of watching a child die by degrees. Rachel would have been spared all the agony that damnable disease put her through. But she—and I—also would have missed the greatest joy.” He was looking at her intently. “The point is, we all come to forks in the road, and we all make our choices and live with them, for good or ill. If you had chosen to keep your son, you would not have had Jessica. You wouldn’t be the woman you are today. You came to a fork in the road, and you made the best choice you could at the time, under the circumstances you were faced with and using the information you had. You have nothing to beat yourself up over.”

  “Oh, God, Tony, what kind of mother gives a baby up for adoption?” It was a cry from the heart.

  Callused fingertips stroked the underside of her jaw. “A very young and frightened one, in your case. Grace, do you know what first attracted me to you? I loved the way you were with Jessica. I loved the way you were ready to take on the whole world, including me and the whole damned police bureaucracy, for her. I loved the way you loved her, so fierce and protective and yet, gentle, too. You’re a great mother, Grace. A wonderful mother. Just because you made a hard choice when you weren’t much older than Jessica is now doesn’t take away from that. You did the best you could, and that’s all any of us can do.”

  Grace looked deep into his eyes and was comforted by what she saw there. The lump in her throat was still present and still painful. But the horrible ache in her chest was easing, slowly, by infinitesimal degrees.

  “I love you, Tony Marino,” she said clearly. And then, to her own surprise, she burst into tears.

  Chapter

  44

  IT WAS PROVING HARDER to track down Grace’s son than Tony had anticipated. He was at his desk in the squad room later that afternoon, squinting at his blinking computer screen and coming up with zilch. The fact that the baby had been born in a private clinic was slowing things down. Tony could find no record of his birth. There was, simply, no baby boy Douglas, which was Grace’s maiden name, listed as being born on the correct date in Franklin County, where Grace said he had been born.

  Tony didn’t even consider the possibility that Grace had gotten some of the vital information wrong. The events surrounding the birth of the child were seared into her soul.

  He would find the kid, though. Now that he knew what he was looking for, it was just a matter of doing a little police work. Since he’d come up dry with the birth certificate, his next stop would be adoption records. Sooner or later, he would hit pay dirt.

  The question was, what would he do with the kid when he found him? Grace would not prosecute the boy, Tony knew. In fact, she was likely to prostrate herself at his feet, begging for forgiveness.

  The kid had to have some major problems to have done the things he had done, from breaking into Grace’s house to killing Jessica’s hamster. And he was probably harboring a major resentment against Grace as well.

  As he thought of the hell Grace had been through, not just recently but during years of condemning herself for what she had done, Tony felt a slow-building anger start to burn inside him. If the kid gave Grace any more grief, his first inclination would be to throttle him, poor abandoned baby or not.

  Tony foresaw trouble with a capital ? when the kid was found. Grace would be in anguish, Jessica—who would have to be told—would be thrown into even more turmoil, and the kid himself sounded like the next Ted Bundy.

  He meant to pay a call on Grace’s son and do his best to put the fear of God in the kid, before ever telling Grace where he was. Terroristic threatening was the least of the charges he would threaten the kid with, if he didn’t behave.

  Funny enough, he never even considered the fact that, once the criminal aspect of the case was over, it was really not his problem. If it affected Grace and Jessica, it affected him.

  My girls.

  His mouth quirked into an ironic half-smile. That’s what they were to him, he realized. His girls, mother and daughter. His. Funny how his life seemed to be coming full circle.

  Grace had told him she loved him. After that, she’d been too busy crying and he’d been too busy mopping up her tears to have any rational discussion at all. With her sense of duty, Grace had of course insisted on keeping that damned one o’clock deadline.

  Tonight they were going to have quite a talk.

  “How’s it coming?” Gary Sandifer was standing beside his desk, looking down at the computer screen, which was trolling automatically through adoption records looking for a baby boy adopted in Franklin County within a year of the birth date of Grace’s son. The child had been born in Franklin County and obviously still lived here, or he would not be able to prey on Grace as he had been doing. It was not much of a stretch to assume the adoption had taken place in Franklin County, so Tony included that in the parameters he had typed into the search program.

  “It’s coming,” Tony said noncommittally. Without even really thinking about it, he came to the lightning decision that Grace’s secret was going to stay just that: a secret, at least as far as the department was concerned. He would locate the kid, put the fear of God into him, haul him off to counseling, do whatever it took to make things easier for Grace. As far as the department was concerned, the investigation would be wound up with a “perp unknown” designation.

  Nobody would care. The department had bigger fish to fry than the hamster-murdering stalker of a local judge and her daughter.

  “I can give you maybe another week, at best,” Sandifer said, shaking his head apologetically. “Then I’m going to have to pull you guys off.”

  “You already working on Voss?” Tony asked. Tied up with this investigation, he felt like a kid in a school classroom, sitting impatiently as he waited for the dismissal bell to ring so he would be free to do what he really wanted to do. In this case, that was to get Voss.

  “We’re getting started.”

  Tony grimaced. Knowing how he felt about Voss, Sandifer patted him on the shoulder.

  “I don’t think we’ll get him in a week,” he said consolingly, and headed for his office.

  Fifty-five baby boys of approximately the right age had been adopted in Franklin County during the time frame Tony was looking at. He had not expected that there would be so many. Printing out the list, he folded it, tucked it into his pocket, and then stood up. Grunt work was what it would take to run all those kids down, but then, grunt work was, by and large, what he did.

  But not right now. It was four-thirty and he had to be heading home.

  There were four or five girls playing basketball in the driveway when, having parked his car in its customary spot two streets over, he let himself in through the side gate. They did not notice him as he walked across the yard, which was ankle deep in fallen leaves. To Tony’s surprise, he saw that Jessica was not among them. He was still pondering the implications of that as he entered the house.

  Jessica and Gloria Baer were in the kitchen. Gloria was standing with both hands flat on the countertop, looking at Jessica with concern, while Jessica, face abnormally pale, sat on a bar stool sipping orange jui
ce. The dogs were sprawled at her feet. They came toward Tony, toenails clicking, tails wagging.

  “Hi, Tony.” Gloria looked around at him almost with relief. Hers was a tough job, babysitting Jessica during the day. With an inward grin, Tony conceded that he would far rather have his own task of babysitting Jessica’s mother.

  Of course, even if Gloria had been assigned to watch over Grace, she would not have gotten nearly as much enjoyment out of it as he was getting.

  “Is there a problem?” Tony patted both dogs and looked at Jessica.

  Jessica made a face. Her eyes met his and then slid away. “Nothing major. I just forgot to take my insulin this morning. My blood sugar got a little low.”

  “She looked like she was going to faint out there playing basketball,” Gloria said severely.

  “Did you call her mother?” Tony asked Gloria.

  “No! No!” Jessica’s reply was sharp. “I told her not to call my mother, and you’re not to either, Tony, do you hear? I took my insulin, and I’ll drink this orange juice, and I’ll be fine. Just leave my mother out of it.”

  Tony said nothing for a moment. The ridiculous colored streak in her hair was lime green today, he saw, which had the effect of making her eyes seem very blue. She really looked an awful lot like her mother, Tony thought, which would have endeared Jessica to him even if he had not grown to appreciate her for herself.

  “Fine,” he said mildly, and hung his jacket on the coatrack before opening the refrigerator door to help himself to an orange juice, too.

  Since Tony’s advent rendered her off duty, and she seemed to sense trouble brewing, Gloria left with a quick good-bye. Jessica drained the last drops of her orange juice and eyed him with some resentment.

  “You’re going to tell Mom, aren’t you?” she demanded.

  Tony sighed, and rested a hip against the counter opposite where she sat as he chugged his orange juice. “Don’t start, Jess. You know I have to. You don’t want people telling your mother you didn’t take your insulin, then take your insulin. It’s as simple as that.”

  Jessica glowered at him. “God, I hate this damned disease!” she burst out.

  “You don’t know how lucky you are to have it.”

  “What?” Jessica stared at him in disbelief.

  He nodded. “Yeah. Lucky. You know why? Because it’s treatable. All you have to do is take your insulin when you’re supposed to, and watch what you eat, and you’ll be fine.”

  “And that makes me lucky?”

  Tony looked at her for a long moment. Then he said, “Did I ever tell you about Rachel? My daughter? No? Well, I had a daughter. She would be about your age if she had lived, but she didn’t. She died when she was eleven years old. She had cystic fibrosis. Now there’s a disease that’s not treatable. She hated cystic fibrosis just like you hate diabetes, but there was nothing she—or I—could do. No treatment could save her. I would have given anything I possessed—everything I possessed—my life, even, without a second’s hesitation, if we could have treated her disease with two shots a day and a special diet.”

  He broke off. Jessica stared at him, wide-eyed. After a moment he managed a crooked smile. “So, you see, you’re lucky. So damned lucky.”

  “Tony, I’m sorry.” Jessica looked appalled.

  Tony nodded and took another swig of his orange juice.

  “Does Mom know?”

  Tony nodded again. It was funny, he reflected, the more he talked about Rachel the easier it became. It still hurt, but he no longer felt he might die from the pain.

  “Tony?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “You like Mom, don’t you?”

  Immediately he felt a little wary—Jessica and Grace had been alone together for a long time, and who knew how she might feel about the addition of a third party, even one she liked as much as she did him—but he nodded.

  “Have you ever thought about—well, maybe dating her, or something?”

  Tony cocked an eyebrow at her and did his best to keep his face suitably bland. “You wouldn’t mind?”

  Jessica shook her head. “Some of the guys she dates, if she married them, I’d have to run away from home. You’d be okay, though.”

  This time Tony knew his face was anything but bland. He was amused, surprised, curious, even a little touched, and there was no way to hide all that. “Are you by any chance trying to marry your mom off?”

  Jessica shrugged. “Not to just anybody. But—I’m a freshman in high school. In four years, I’ll be going away to college. I hate to think of going off and leaving Mom all alone. I wouldn’t mind so much if she had somebody like you.”

  “You are trying to marry your mom off!” Tony couldn’t help it. He grinned from ear to ear, picturing what Grace’s reaction would be if she could hear this conversation.

  “You’re not going to tell her, are you?” Jessica looked suddenly anxious.

  Tony laughed out loud. “Now, would I tell your mother that her daughter practically proposed to me on her behalf?” He shook his head. “I appreciate the thought, though, Jess. I really do.”

  As it happened, Jessica’s friends stayed until supper time, and then Jackie and her children stopped by and ate with them. Used to the casual closeness of his own large family, Tony accepted the presence of Grace’s sister and children philosophically. The only problem was, he had no chance to have any private conversation with Grace. He hadn’t even managed to kiss her hello.

  After Jackie and her brood left, Grace and Jessica chatted as they cleaned up the kitchen. Watching them from his spot on the couch in front of the TV, Tony was struck once again by what a good relationship they really had.

  As he had told Jessica earlier, she was lucky.

  Kramer and Chewie were at the back door, wanting out. He got up and opened it, and they streaked across the backyard, barking in furious answer to the yapping of a dog down the street. Tony glanced up at the clock over the pantry. It was five minutes after ten o’clock.

  On a Friday night, Jessica could stay up as late as she chose.

  Here he was, dying to get Grace alone, and it looked as if it wasn’t going to happen, at least not any time soon if the way mother and daughter were gabbing was any indication.

  Wasn’t that the way life always worked?

  “I’m going to take out the trash,” he said, heading for the full trash can on the far side of the refrigerator.

  Grace nodded, so caught up in something Jessica was saying that he wasn’t even sure she heard. With a wry smile, Tony reflected that he felt like the father in a family sitcom, kind of third-wheelish.

  But it was good to feel like part of a family again.

  He pulled the plastic liner from the can, knotted the top of it, and set it down while he put in a fresh liner. Then he picked up the bag of trash and headed out the door.

  Kramer and Chewie were over behind the garage, snuffling at something. It was impossible to tell what it was in the dark. Tony dropped the trash bag in the big metal garbage can in the garage and went to investigate. It was a beautiful night, warm and clear, with a huge orange moon hanging low in the sky and thousands of twinkling stars spiraling around it. Indian summer. He loved it. It was his favorite season of the year.

  Rachel had died in an Indian summer.

  The memory brought bittersweet sadness with it. She had loved Indian summer, too.

  When he returned to the house, he was going to march Grace and Jessica out into the backyard so that they could enjoy the beauty of the night.

  If he had learned nothing else in his life, he had learned the importance of squeezing all the goodness possible out of each day.

  The dogs were whining and pawing at something in the shadow of the garage. It was darker there, so dark that Tony could not quite make out what they had found. Whatever it was had not been in the backyard earlier, he was certain.

  The object lying in the grass at the base of the garage wall was black and sort of cylindrical and large, more than five
feet long. Frowning, Tony realized that he was looking at something wrapped in the same kind of oversized garbage bag he had just deposited in the garage, with duct tape wrapped around it, striping it with gray every few feet.

  Then Kramer hit pay dirt. Her paw ripped through the plastic—and what looked like an overstuffed white glove flopped out. Both dogs snuffled at it, whining.

  To his horror, Tony realized that he was looking at a pale, bloated human hand, still attached to its arm.

  Alarm bells went off like gangbusters in his mind. The hairs rose on the back of his neck. Kramer looked around, snarling at something just beyond him even as Tony whirled, reaching for his gun—

  Something that felt like a baseball bat hit him with the force of a home run-caliber swing right in the side of the head, and stars exploded before his eyes. Then everything went black.

  Chapter

  45

  KILLING HIS MOM WAS FUN. He had meant to do it later that night, do the whole family at once after his dad got in from Indianapolis and Donny came home from handing out more flyers about Caroline being missing. But at about nine o’clock, his mom caught him eating the rice pudding she had made for his dad, just like he had done the week before. She had a major cow, screaming that somebody as fat and zit-faced as he was had no business eating sweets.

  He walked into his bedroom, got his dad’s pistol from where he had hidden it under his bed, and returned to the kitchen with it. Man, had she shut up fast when she saw the gun. Her mouth had popped open like a fish’s, her hand had clutched her throat, and she’d said his name in this weird kind of voice that told him she knew what he was going to do.

  “ ‘Bye, Mom,” he said, and shot the ugly bitch right in the face.

  Of course, she was even uglier after that.

  She’d bled like the pig she was. In a matter of minutes, there’d been a big puddle on the kitchen floor where her head rested. There were splatters on the walls, too, kind of like spaghetti sauce with mushrooms and noodles in it. He couldn’t have that, couldn’t leave the mess although he didn’t feel like cleaning it up, because he didn’t want Donny and his father to realize what was going down until it was their turn to bite the big one.