“Tuck? We can take a print of your foot downtown,” Jake said. “Take it to our lab.”
“Great,” Jane said. “Can we do it today? Tuck? What’s wrong?”
She’d have thought Tuck would be eager to take Jake up on his offer. Carlyn, too. The footprint could instantly answer the questions that plagued Tuck. But Tuck had a funny look on her face.
Carlyn, holding the footprint, had a funny look, too.
Maybe Jane couldn’t fully understand the depth of the emotions. The past and the future. Right here, right now. Revealed.
“I’m sorry.” Was she being insensitive? Disrespectful? So interested in the story that she’d lost sight of the real people involved? “Do you two want to talk privately? Without-” She waved a hand at Jake, and the parking lot, at the Brannigan’s brick walls. “All this?”
“Jane, we’re so grateful.” Carlyn began.
Tuck had pulled the charm bracelet from her pocket.
“Jane? My mother-my adoptive mother-is dying. You know that. The nurse called this morning. To let my mother say-well, I’m flying down there tonight.”
“I’m so sorry.” No wonder Tuck’s voice had sounded strange.
Tuck held up the bracelet. Carlyn moved behind her, draped an arm across her shoulders. “She told me that she’d made this bracelet. She’d written the note. To prevent me from finding my birth mother. Remember I told you she’d hate that I was looking? So this morning she said…”
Jane watched Tuck struggle for words. Her eyes welled with tears and Carlyn comforted her.
“Go ahead, honey,” Carlyn said. “We understand she did it out of love, sweetheart. Out of thinking you’d be happier.”
Tuck took a deep breath. “She said she couldn’t face me, but had to tell me the truth. Let go of the guilt. All these years, she wanted me to feel loved by her. That she was my only ‘real’ mother. That she and Dad were my real family. She knew if anyone tried to say otherwise, I’d use the bracelet and note to prove they were wrong.”
“Which she almost did. Right, honey?” Carlyn handed the footprint back to Jane. “But that’s why we don’t need the footprint, Jane. I’m so happy to introduce you to-”
“Audrey Rose Beerman.” Tuck blinked away the tears. The bracelet twinkled in the milky sun. “The right girl. The rightest girl in the world.”
81
Jane stabbed the elevator button, again and again. If the Register people didn’t fix this, she was going to-Damn. No time.
She yanked open the stairwell door, raced up the three flights, down the hall, and toward Alex’s office. She stood in the hallway, catching her breath.
Scrabbling her hair into place and clutching Ella’s bag of documents-Alex was gonna love the footprint thing-she headed toward his office, marshaling her pitch. She’d have the scoop on the arrest for the Lillian Finch murder. No conflict of interest there. They couldn’t lay her off now.
A flutter in her chest as she approached Alex’s office. Calm down, Jane.
She would dig up the whole deal on what happened at the Brannigan, too. The Tuck thing-well, that was a happy ending. Happy-ish. But what documents had burned in the fire? Had other families been sent the wrong children? It could be a huge story. But she’d need time to research it. And write it. She’d need a job to make that happen.
Alex was there, she saw him through the window in his jeans and starched oxford shirt, standing behind his desk, sorting manila folders. Not on the phone.
She knocked, twice, didn’t wait for an okay.
“Alex, listen to this!” She was smiling, big time, but hey, this was a big scoop. “I’ve got a hell of a story.”
Alex did not return her smile.
“Yeah, Jane.” He gestured her toward the couch. Which was empty. No piles of files, no documents, no clutter. Just couch.
“Sit down, okay?” he said.
Her face went cold. Her heart weighed a million pounds. The layoffs. What Hec-whoever-had warned her about. This was it. She was being laid off.
“What, Alex?” She stayed in the doorway, struggled to hide her emotions.
“You know we’ve had some… difficulties, here at the Register,” Alex said. “I wanted to tell you face-to-face. That’s why I haven’t been answering your calls. Really. Please sit.”
Jane lowered herself to the couch, then stood again.
“Am I-,” she began. She could take it. “Just tell me.”
“You’re fine,” Alex said. “The fifth floor is impressed. You’re tough, and determined, and a real team player. Now that Leonard Perl’s arrested-the whole Hec Underhill thing-you’re clear to come back.”
“So why did-?”
“It’s me they’re letting go, Jane. Someone had to take the hit for hiring Hec. And that was me.”
Jane sat down. Stared at her knees for a silent moment.
“I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t fired. It was Alex. That’s why no one had told her.
“I’ll be fine, Jane. I’ve got a lead on a new job in Washington, D.C. Your pal Amy still there? Maybe we can all have dinner. Sometime. Now that I’m not… your boss anymore.”
“But that’s so unfair.” Getting blamed for something he couldn’t have known. He’d gotten her this job. Backed her. Trusted her. Now he was leaving.
“Life’s not fair. It’s only short.” Finally he smiled. “My last day isn’t until tomorrow. Tell me about your story.”
Jake would never feel comfortable holding an infant. Little Diane had a death grip on his forefinger. Her tiny fingers barely made it around. He shifted on Bethany’s living room couch, worrying.
“You’re a natural,” Bethany Sibbach said. “Look how she’s cuddling into you. You ever thought about having kids, Detective?”
He had, of course. And someday, maybe soon, he’d want to talk about it, with Jane. But it was this little girl whose future he was interested in now. He’d promised Maggie Gunnison he’d make sure Diane Marie was taken care of. He’d been haunted by that. Now they were onto the whole scheme, and the DA had taken over.
But why should the baby be an innocent victim? He’d called Bethany to see if there was anything he could do. Instead of answering, she’d asked him to come over.
“Me and kids? That’s a story for another day,” Jake said. “But this particular kid-”
“-is staying with me,” Bethany said. “We knew her birth mother is deceased, and her father-unknown. So. I wanted to tell you in person. I got the okay from the DFS director. She pulled some strings. Special circumstances. Paperwork’s making its way through the system. She’ll be Diane Marie Sibbach. I’ll be her mom.”
Bethany tickled the little girl gently under her chin, scooped her out of Jake’s arms. “Right, sweetie? Right?”
“Phillip and Phoebe?” Jake asked. They were both upstairs, naptime. Bethany told him Phillip had seemed to recognize Diane, but wasn’t particularly interested.
“Off the record? We have a wonderful family all set to adopt them.” Bethany’s eyes were on Diane, swaddled in pink fleece, only her pudgy face showing. “I’ll keep special watch on them, extra close. We can’t control everyone’s lives, Detective. In foster care families, as in any family, we can’t make certain everything works out for every child. All we can do is love them. And do our best.”
82
“I promise,” Jane said. Her fingers itched to push the green play button, but this was Jake’s show. He’d sent his assistant on an errand so they could be alone in his office at police HQ. Jane had banged out an exclusive front-pager for this morning’s paper about the Munson and Brannigan arrests, but she knew there was more to the story. She was about to see it.