Acts of Mercy (33 page)

Read Acts of Mercy Online

Authors: Mariah Stewart

BOOK: Acts of Mercy
10.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Robert spun around in his chair to stare at Kevin.

“You’re sure? Kevin, you’re absolutely positive?” Robert grabbed his cousin by the arm.

“There’s no mistake, Rob. The mark is there. I saw it very clearly.”

“That’s it, then.” Robert stood, his hands on his hips, and addressed the chief. “So do I call the FBI in, or can you handle this yourself from here?”

“First of all, we have nothing but your say-so that this boy has a mark like the one your boy had—we don’t even have any proof that
your
boy had a mark. You’re going to need to prove that. Then we’re going to have to make a positive ID. We’ll want to see the birth certificate,” Collier explained.

Robert speed-dialed home. “Trula, I need you to fax”—he paused—“no, email’s clearer, isn’t it?” he asked the chief.

“Sometimes.” The chief nodded.

“Trula, I’m going to need you to fax
and
email a copy of Ian’s birth certificate. And pictures that clearly show the birthmark on his cheek.” He thought for a moment, then told Trula to hold on. To the chief, he said, “Will fingerprints do it?”

“They’d sure help if they matched. Ms. Woolum would have a lot of explaining to do.”

Robert went back to the call. “Okay, Trula, this part might be trickier. I need something with his fingerprints on it. Maybe those plastic keys he used to
like to play with …” He paused. “What? Seriously? Yes, fax them right now! Then scan them into the computer along with the photos and … you don’t know how to scan? Ask Mallory to do it, but do it right now. Please.”

“You are one determined fellow.” Collier handed Robert one of his cards, with both email and fax information.

Robert passed the information on to Trula, then hung up.

“We have his fingerprints,” he told the chief. “Trula, God bless her, had Ian printed at one of those health fairs in Conroy when he was two months old. She said she put them in a drawer and pretty much forgot about them. She’s sending them over.”

“You didn’t tell her that we may have found him,” Susanna said.

“She’s already figured that out. I just want to bring him home, and let her see for herself,” Robert told her.

Within minutes, the items Robert had requested arrived. The chief looked over the birth certificate—“You know we’ll need to see the original if we go further with this,” he’d said—and the photos. He glanced at the fingerprints.

“These aren’t going to prove diddly without something to compare them with,” he told Robert.

“That’s where you come in, chief,” Robert replied.

Collier nodded and went into the hall and called for Officer Duffy. “I want you to come with me to Carole Woolum’s house. There are some questions I need her to answer.”

He turned to Robert and said, “I’ll be getting back to you.”

“I’d rather come with you.”

“Not gonna happen, son.”

“Then we’ll wait here, if that’s okay with you.”

“Suit yourself. You can wait in the lobby.” Collier tapped Duffy on the shoulder and said, “Let’s do this.” When he got to the doorway, he turned and said, “There’s a coffee shop across the street. You might as well go on over and grab yourself something to eat. This might take a while …”

It took two hours for Collier to return to the station. From the coffee shop window, Kevin spotted the cruiser. Chief Collier drove, Duffy sat shotgun, and someone sat in the back seat.

Robert shot out the door, followed by Kevin. Susanna stayed long enough to pay the check before dashing across the street. Collier saw the threesome come through the front door and held up his hand.

“Uh-uh. We’re going to go by the book here, folks. Ms. Woolum insists that that boy is her son, Matthew.”

“Why’d you bring her in?” Susanna asked.

“She couldn’t produce a birth certificate. First she said she’d lost it. Then she said it was in a safe-deposit box at the bank. When I offered to accompany her to get it, she said the bank was in San Diego.” Collier shook his head. “It’s not sitting right with me.”

“We have his prints,” Robert reminded him. “Check his prints.”

“She won’t permit him to be printed.”

“Where is he?” Robert asked.

“In the back room, and no, you can’t go in. I told her she was welcome to have her lawyer join us, but she said she doesn’t have one and doesn’t need one.” The chief looked like he was about to say something, then decided against it. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her.”

When Robert started to protest, Collier turned to him and said, “If you take one more step, I will have you locked up for interfering with an investigation.”

Robert backed off.

The chief went to the vending machine and dropped in some change. He made a selection, then grabbed two paper cups from the shelf under the water cooler before making his way to the back of the station. They heard a door open and close.

Robert was in acute pain, and it showed on his face.

“I know how hard this is for you.” Susanna stroked his back, her voice soothing. “But it’s going to be worth it. We’re going to get him back. Just be patient a little longer.”

“He’s going to need the fingerprints.” Robert did not even attempt to hide his anguish. “She isn’t going to give them to him.”

“Then we’ll have Luke Parrish get a subpoena, or a warrant, or whatever it is we need to force her to let him be printed,” Kevin said. “A court order, maybe.”

“All right, yes.” Robert nodded and patted his pockets for his phone. “I’ll ask him to get started on that right away.”

“He sounded really busy earlier,” Kevin reminded them.

“He can get unbusy. What’s the number?”

Robert began to dial the number Kevin recited, but the call went straight to voice mail. Robert left a message and hung up.

“I’ll call him every hour on the hour if I have to,” Robert grumbled.

“Rob, maybe you should call Noah Goodman,” Susanna suggested.

“That’s not a bad idea. I’m going to need him before this is over anyway.” Robert began to dial his lawyer’s number. “Do any of us really expect her to admit outright that she took the baby from the car?”

When the attorney picked up, Robert explained the situation. When the conversation ended, he told the others, “Noah thinks we need to file a court order today, to force Carole Woolum to permit us to obtain Ian’s fingerprints. He’s contacting a friend of his who has a practice up here. He’ll know the judges, and he’ll know exactly what to file and with whom.”

The door to the back room opened and all three of them lunged forward, but it was Collier calling for Officer Duffy to do something. Susanna and Kevin sat down again, but Robert began to pace. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling powerless. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his son. And he thought the chief was being overly cautious and taking too long.

Another twenty minutes passed, and Duffy went down the hall and waved the chief out. They conferred for several minutes—“Are you sure? You’re positive?” they heard Collier ask, and Duffy nodded emphatically.

“What the hell are they doing down there?” Robert looked like he was close to snapping. “What is taking so damned long?”

Duffy went into the room with Carole Woolum, and the chief went into his office. Several minutes later, he came back out, went across the hall again.

A scream reverberated through the station, bringing everyone to their feet. The door to the room at the back of the hall opened, and Collier walked out, holding the child.

“No, you don’t understand!” Carole Woolum fled into the hall, struggling with Duffy and the other officer, who were trying to restrain her. “God gave him to me. He’s my gift from God! You can’t take him!”

“Mommy!” Ian cried, and the knife twisted in Robert’s heart.

“Mr. Magellan, the FBI is on the way,” Collier told him. “There’s going to be some paperwork, there will be some details to resolve. But there’s no question in my mind that this is your son, and I can’t see any reason to keep him from you.” He handed the frightened child to Robert, who eagerly reached out for him with tears in his eyes. But Ian—Matthew—began to cry.

“Let me try,” Susanna said. “Maybe he isn’t used to men …”

She took the boy from Collier.

“There now. It’s all right, little guy.” She brushed the dark curls from his face. “You’re a little scared right now, aren’t you? It’s going to be all right soon. I promise.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, and she began to sway slightly from side to side.
Just like Beth used to do
, Robert thought. Just like every other mother he’d ever seen.

“What convinced you?” Kevin asked Collier.

“I got his prints off the paper cup, had Duffy compare them electronically. There’s no question in my mind who that boy is.” He shook his head. “Folks, that is one mixed-up lady back there.”

“Chief Collier, perhaps I could have a word with her,” Kevin said.

“It may not help, but it probably won’t hurt, either. Go on back,” the chief told him.

Kevin walked down the hall to the door where Carole Woolum waited to be booked for kidnapping and other charges. He opened the door and went inside.

“What happens now?” Robert asked. “And when can I take my son home?”

“It would sure help if the padre can get Carole Woolum to admit that she found the boy.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll have another whole mess to deal with. In the meantime, I’m going to have to call in Children’s Services. Might as well do that now.” Collier headed back to his office.

Robert was aching to hold Ian, but every time he came too close, the child began to cry and clung to Susanna, burying his face in her neck. At least he seemed comfortable with her. It would be a long trip home if Ian continued to cry.

It would be longer still if they had to go home without him.

“Ms. Woolum—Carole,” Kevin took her gently by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Will you sit and talk with me for a few moments?”

The woman’s sobs were huge, wracking cries. “They took my baby away. They took my son …”

Officer Duffy met Kevin’s eyes, then stepped off to the side.

“Do you remember me, Carole?” He kept his voice soft, and forced a calm he didn’t feel. “We met earlier today. I’m Father Burch.”

“Yes … yes. I remember.”

“I told you I’d spoken with Mother Joseph at the convent.” He held the woman’s hands, and she grasped onto them.

“I remember.”

“You were going to tell me about the last time you were at the cabin.”

“It’s been a while. I … I don’t remember, exactly.”

“Was it summer, winter …?”

“Winter,” she said readily. “It was cold. I had to build a little fire there in the fireplace. There was a lot of wood outside, stacked up.”

“Why had you gone to the cabin by yourself in the cold of winter?”

“I needed to think.” She pulled her hands from his and covered her face with them. “I needed to be alone to think.”

“How long ago had you left the convent?”

“Three years. It’s been three years. I was Sister Jerome then. Jerome, after my father.”

Kevin took a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hands. She nodded her thanks and began to dry her face.

“I wasn’t sure, you see. The first time I went to the cabin, it was to think things through. Did I want to stay in the order, or should I leave? Had I lost my vocation?
Was there something else God wanted me to do?” She shook her head. “I didn’t know. But I thought if I was questioning it that much, then maybe I didn’t have a true calling. So I did leave. I went home. My father was gone, my mother was dying … she did die while I was home that time. I stayed in the house for a couple of months afterward, but I started thinking that maybe I should call Reverend Mother, maybe I should go back. I really didn’t know where I belonged, do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” Kevin had had his period of doubts, too. He couldn’t think of anyone who’d taken Holy Orders who never questioned their decision.

“I remembered that when I was at the cabin the first time, it had been easier to think, it had been so quiet, so peaceful. I believed I would find my answer there. So I went back.”

“How did you get inside?” he asked.

“The owner had given me the key when I stayed there the first time. I was so afraid I’d lose it and I wouldn’t be able to lock the door, so I had another one made. I just kept it.” The crying had stopped completely and she appeared to be thinking things through rationally. “Do you think that was a sin? That I had a key made for a place that wasn’t mine? That I trespassed?”

“I think the owner will forgive you.”

“I hope so.” She appeared to be fixated on this point, so Kevin tried to move the conversation forward.

“Tell me about the day you heard the crash.”

“It had been so quiet all morning. There was snow on the ground and it was cold. Then all of a sudden,
there was a sort of thunderclap. I went outside to see what it was, but nothing was there. Later that day, though, when I went for a walk, I saw the car in the ravine, and I heard the baby crying. I opened the door, and there he was, my precious boy. My Matthew. My gift from God.” She looked up at Kevin, and he could see in her eyes that she was losing her grip on reality. “That’s what Matthew means, you know. Gift from God. I had prayed and prayed and prayed for a sign. What should I do? What was my calling? Then God sent me this child, and I knew that he was supposed to be mine. That God wanted me to have him. That was my calling, I could see it then. I was meant to be his mother. I took him back to the cabin and fed him—there was baby food and bottles and diapers and clothes in the diaper bag that I found in the back seat. Everything he needed was there. All I had to do was take him home. See? God had provided everything.” She smiled. “That’s how I knew he was meant to be my son.”

“What about the woman behind the wheel?” Kevin asked.

“What about her?” Carole seemed confused by the question.

“What was she doing when you opened the car door?”

“She wasn’t doing anything. She was just lying there.”

“Did you check to see if she was breathing?” Kevin asked.

“No,” she replied calmly. “She wouldn’t have been. God sent her to bring the baby to me, then he let her die because she wasn’t needed in this world anymore.
Don’t you see? She was an angel, sent to do God’s will. When she was done He brought her back to heaven.”

Other books

The Vorkosigan Companion by Lillian Stewart Carl, John Helfers
The Far West by Patricia C. Wrede
Death Blow by Ashley Harma
Midnight Ballerina by Cori Williams
The Devil's Making by Seán Haldane
Damian's Oracle by Lizzy Ford
Rebecca York by Beyond Control