In Dark Waters (19 page)

The ride to Richmond took forever. Searching for clues to her past would be unnerving on the best of days, but sitting so close to Mitch on top of it made her want to jump out of her skin.

Mitch had attempted conversation a couple of times. She offered curt answers, just too nervous to feign the nonchalance she used as a shield.

After they cleared Afton Mountain, he stopped trying to get her to talk. Silence settled around them. She let the monotonous line of trees along I-64 pass her in a blur of green.

"We're at the Gum Spring exit. Should be downtown in about a half hour," Mitch said.

The deep timbre of his voice shocked her out of her haze. "I flew through Richmond when I came home. The place has grown a lot in the last eight years."

He glanced at her. His gaze penetrated. "A lot's changed in eight years."

The attorney's office was located in a tall building at the corner of Main and Seventh Streets. The granite exterior looked as if it had once been white but now had faded to a dull gray. A long platinum light fixture hung above the numbers 701 secured atop revolving doors.

Kelsey's insides knotted as she stared up at the building. She tried to picture Donna, in her teens and pregnant, walking through these doors. Had she been as scared as Kelsey was now? Who had Donna chosen to adopt her? Why had her mother backed out of the adoption?

Mitch laid his hand on her shoulder. "You okay?" No. "Yes. Let's check the directory inside." Mitch guided her through the revolving doors and stood behind her as she stared up at the building directory. She scanned the alphabetical listing to the Cs. There were three Cranstons. One was an engineer, the second a real estate developer and the last a lawyer. Kelsey's mouth went dry. "He's here! Sixth floor." Mitch shook his head. "Let's go up."

She took several deep breaths as Mitch pushed the elevator button. When the doors opened, she jumped.

"I'm right here," Mitch said.

His deep, calm voice soothed fraying nerves. She'd never admit it, but she was glad he was here. She pushed the sixth-floor button.

The elevator doors opened and within seconds they found themselves standing in a small office at the end of the hallway. The receptionist, an older woman with graying hair, stood behind a large L-shaped desk. Her navy blue dress was covered in dust. Around her were hundreds of case files piled high. The woman's sharp green gaze seared Kelsey and Mitch. She wasn't happy to see them.

"May I help you?" the receptionist said.

"I'm looking for an attorney named Cranston," Kelsey said.

The woman lifted an eyebrow. "What do you need?"

"He may have handled an adoption for my mother twenty-five years ago."

"Do you see this mess?" the woman said. "I've been sorting these files for two days. I can't tell you the status of today's case, let alone one that's twenty-five years old."

"What happened?" said Mitch.

The woman's sour expression softened when she looked at him. "Someone broke into the office three nights ago and tore the place apart. Files were scattered everywhere."

"Was anything taken?" The authority in Mitch's voice had the woman sitting a little straighter. "Not that we've been able to see so far."

"Could we see Mr. Cranston?" Kelsey said.

The woman lifted a brow. "This isn't the best time."

"We won't take up much of his time," Mitch said. His smile belied the steel coating his words.

The woman chose not to argue with Mitch. She picked up her phone and cradled it against her ear. "Your name?"

"Kelsey Warren and Mitch Garrett," Kelsey said.

The receptionist buzzed an office down the hallway. She quickly announced their presence. The faint flicker of surprise sparked in her eyes. "He said to go on back."

Mitch guided Kelsey to the back office. They looked through the open door and found a man in his sixties standing and putting on his charcoal-gray suit jacket. His office, like the reception area was cluttered with files.

"Mr. Cranston?" Kelsey said.

He maneuvered around a long mahogany desk, his hand outstretched to her. "Pleasure to meet you… Miss Warren?"

His hand was cool, clammy. "Yes."

Mr. Cranston held her hand a beat longer as he stared at her face. "I'd offer you a seat but as you can see we are having some organizational issues."

"Your receptionist said you had a breakin?" Mitch said.

The attorney tore his gaze away from Kelsey and shifted his attention to Mitch. "We did."

Mitch held out his hand. "Sheriff Mitch Garrett."

Cranston took it. "Are you here officially?"

"Not yet."

Cranston dropped Mitch's hand and cleared the piles of files off the two chairs in front of his desk. He motioned for them to sit and then took his place behind his desk. "Nothing stolen that we could see, but I don't think I'll ever get this mess cleaned up. Mrs. Dixon, my secretary is overwhelmed. Not very pleasant to be around right now." He sighed. "Nothing's been right since my secretary, Brenda Harris, quit. She'd have had it organized in no time. The woman never forgot a detail."

Kelsey tried to commiserate. "Maybe you could call her and she'd come in and help?"

"Believe me, I thought of that. But I haven't heard from her in five years. She just picked up one day and never came back. She
mailed
me her resignation. Didn't have the courtesy to tell me in person she was leaving. Twenty years together and all I get is a letter."

Mitch sighed, clearly frustrated that they'd veered from task. "This breakin of yours is too much of a coincidence for me."

"You lost me there," Mr. Cranston said.

"I had a fire at my house last night," Kelsey said. "Not only was the house destroyed, but I lost my mother's records and letters. I saw a letter from you in my mom's old yearbook. You had written to her about adoption. My mother was Donna Warren."

His eyes narrowed for a moment as he searched his memory. "I thought I'd seen you before when you came in. You look remarkably like your mother."

"Yes. Do you remember anything about the adoption?"

"Oh, yes. I surely do. It was quite a mess at the time."

"What happened?"

"I can't tell you very much. The adoptive parents were my clients. Their identity and anything we discussed is privileged."

Her heart sank. "Can you tell me anything? You said it was a mess. Why?"

"At the eleventh hour, your mother changed her mind."

"About the adoption?"

"Yes. She'd already received payment and just days before you were born, she demanded the adoptive parents pay her more money."

"She was selling me?" The words were out before she spoke them. Mitch laid his hand over hers. He squeezed gently.

Mr. Cranston sighed. "We call it compensation for lost wages and physical inconvenience."

"Physical inconvenience. That's what Donna's pregnancy had been," Kelsey said.

Mr. Cranston sighed. "Your mother was a… calculating woman. She always thought three steps ahead. When she raised the adoption fee, the adoptive father was angry. He refused to be blackmailed. Donna was furious. She stood right here in this office and threatened to disappear with the baby— you. Ironically, the next day the adoptive mother called me and said she'd pay the money. But by then, there was no trace of your mother." Perhaps she really had had second thoughts about keeping her.

She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. "Can you tell me anything else? Did Donna tell you who my father was?"

He stiffened slightly and stood. "There isn't much else I can tell you without violating my oath."

Mitch stood.

Frustration scraped over Kelsey's nerves. "There's got to be something else you can tell me."

The older man's eyes hardened with resolve. "There isn't."

She rose, knowing she'd hit a brick wall. "I could almost swear someone doesn't want me to find out about my past."

The attorney shrugged. "I'd like to help, but I can't."

"We appreciate your time," Mitch said.

"Maybe if we could find that old office manager of yours," Kelsey said. "She might know something."

"Good luck," Mr. Cranston said. "No one has seen her in five years. I received a postcard from her from Paris a couple of years ago. But I don't know where she is now."

Dead end. She glanced around at the piles of files. One of them could hold the key to her past. So close and so very, very far away.

An hour later, Mitch pulled into the hamburger stand on Route 60. Mitch had chosen not to take the interstate, reasoning that Kelsey needed more time to collect herself. The attorney had given her just enough information to frustrate and upset her. They'd gone to the Department of Vital Statistics and gotten a copy of Kelsey's birth certificate.
Unknown
was written in the box for Father.

"What are we stopping here for?" she said.

"I could use a bite to eat. How about you?"

A faint smile touched her lips. "Still trying to feed me?"

"You're as thin as a rail and pale. And the half cup of coffee you had this morning won't hold you." He climbed out his side and closed the door before she could answer. He opened her door and together they crossed the gravel parking lot to the burger place. At the small window, he ordered a couple of burgers, fries and two milk shakes.

Kelsey leaned around him and said to the attendant, "Make my shake a water. And hold the burger on my burger. Just pile on the vegetables. Mustard, no mayo."

Mitch chuckled. "Don't tell me you are a vegetarian?"

"Vegan."

"You ate Dad's burger."

She shrugged. "I didn't want to be rude. It was so nice of him to include me."

It struck him that there was so much he didn't know about Kelsey and the woman she had become. What was her favorite color? Did she sleep on her right or left side?

"Your arteries will be weeping by the time you finish your meal," she teased as the cook dropped a burger on the hot grill.

"I'll take my chances." They stood outside the burger joint. The sun was warm, the humidity low. It was a stunning day. "So when did you give up meat?"

"About six years ago." She met his assessing gaze. "No political statements. Eating meat just doesn't seem right for me."

"You're a soft touch, Warren."

"Say it again, and I'll punch you."

He laughed. The easy banter felt good. "I think we're having a normal conversation."

She laughed, banishing the shadows from her eyes. "It's got to be a first for us."

"It is."

The attendant called Mitch's number and he picked up their food. They sat on the picnic table by the shop and he doled out the meals. They ate in silence for several minutes.

"So what's our next step?" Kelsey said.

Our
. He liked the sound of that. "Go back to Grant's Forge and see if the fire chief has anything he can tell us about the fire. And maybe LAPD and NYPD has gotten back with any arrest info they might have on Donna."

She sighed and set her half-eaten sandwich down. "We're not going to find anything on Donna, are we?"

He set down his shake. "I don't know. Someone out there is determined that we not find out anything about your past."

"They could make a mistake."

"That's what I'm counting on."

For the next several minutes, they ate until the silence was broken by the sound of puppies barking. Kelsey turned toward the sound. Off to their right, under the shade of an oak tree, sat a mother dog and five puppies. The black terrier-mix pups looked to be about ten weeks old. They were jumping around their mother, barking at her as she sauntered away from them. Tacked to the tree was a hand-painted sign that read Free.

Kelsey's eyes brightened. "I love puppies."

"Let's have a look at them."

She rose quickly and moved toward them. "Hey, fellows."

The puppies stopped and looked at her. Four of them hung back. Only one tumbled toward her, yelping and wagging its tail. The runt of the litter, this one had bowed legs and a bent ear.

Charmed, Kelsey dropped to her knees and held out her hands. The dog paused for a moment and then, wagging its tail again, came toward her. She scooped up the dog that wasn't much bigger than her cupped hands. The dog licked her face and nipped at her ear.

When the other pups saw Kelsey lavishing attention on their litter mate, they scurried over, not to be outdone. The puppies jumped on Kelsey.

Kelsey's deep throaty laugh had Mitch dropping down on a knee beside her. He'd never enjoyed a sight more in his life. If he could, he'd give all the puppies to her. She deserved happiness. "You should keep one."

She glanced up at him, hope in her eyes. "I really can't take care of an animal. I travel so much."

He shrugged. "If you really want something, you'd find a way."

She nuzzled the dog's nose. "I've always wanted a dog. Donna said they were too much work." The dog licked her. "But I bet I could keep you," she said to the dog. "You'd have to be a gypsy like me. But we could manage."

The dog yelped.

She laughed. "Well, then I'll take that as a yes." Cradling the dog close, she rose.

"Are you sure you want that dog? Don't you want to look at the others?"

"This pup fought to get my attention even when he didn't know what to expect from me. He wanted desperately to be chosen. I can relate to that." The pup licked her cheek. "So who do we talk to about this dog?"

We
. He doubted she'd thought twice about the word. He did. "I'll take care of it." Mitch found out the pups were owned by the owner of the burger stand, who was more than happy to give the animal to Kelsey.

Fifteen minutes later, Mitch and Kelsey were back on the road, the dog nestled in an ice-cream-cone box filled with shredded newspapers.

"Thank you," Kelsey said.

He glanced at her. Lazily, she stroked the pup be-hind the ear. Sunlight streamed behind her head, highlighting her hair and adding a rosy glow to her cheeks. The utter look of joy in her eyes nearly stopped his heart. "You're welcome." He cleared his throat. "So have you thought about a name?"