The Choice (52 page)

“That's probably him.”

“You didn't tell me this man's link to Maria,” Mimi said, “but is he the father—”

“I can't say,” Sandy replied quickly.

“You don't have to. But Ted said if Emilio raped Maria, then she's the one who has to take action against him.”

Mimi's intuition was sharp.

“I'll let her know.”

After the call ended, Sandy tried to reach Maria, but the girl didn't answer the phone. Sandy felt frustrated. If Maria wasn't going to be available, the cell phone was a waste of money. Fifteen minutes later, Sandy's phone beeped. It was Maria.

“Why didn't you answer earlier?” Sandy asked.

“I was with my father and waited until I came to Rosalita's trailer to call you. It's better if we talk while I'm here.”

“Okay. It just makes me worry when I can't reach you.”

Sandy told Maria about her conversation with Ms. Randolph and the information obtained from the teacher's boyfriend.

“Would I have to go to the police station?” Maria asked. “I'm too scared to do that.”

“Or an officer could meet with you somewhere else. That's what Ms. Ramsey was trying to set up a few weeks ago.”

The phone was silent for a moment.

“I know my father would say no. He told me that every time I talk to someone, I make a bigger problem for myself and my family.”

“Please think about it. I'd go with you to the police station if you want me to.”

“I'm not sure.”

Sandy then told her about the text message from Jeremy.

“This means you're going to have to do some talking on Monday,” Sandy said. “I'll try to get more details from Jeremy and let you know.”

“Jeremy?”

“Mr. Lane, the lawyer. I'm going to see him on Sunday.”

“I don't want to talk to the lawyer from Atlanta. I won't understand what he says.”

“A translator will be there.”

“That won't help. Mr. Lane uses big words I haven't learned, but I have you there to explain them to me. And he's trying to help me. This man wants to hurt me.”

It was a simple but accurate description of Dusty Abernathy's job.

“I'll tell Mr. Lane to make sure you understand the questions,” Sandy said. “Don't worry. He'll take care of you.”

Friday night at the football game Sandy was buying a drink at the concession stand. A crowd was milling around in front of the booth. When she turned around, she bumped into Brian Winston, the school board's attorney. Their eyes met.

“Ms. Lincoln, please have your lawyer get in touch with me,” Winston sputtered.

“Okay.”

Winston moved away, knocking a woman off balance. The press of the crowd kept her from falling.

“Watch it!” the woman called out as Winston continued through the crowd.

Sandy returned to the sidelines. She'd told Maria to trust Jeremy and not worry. Now she was going to have to take her own advice.

The Rutland team was driving the ball steadily down the field. Someone touched Sandy on the arm. It was Jessica.

“What's the latest news about your thirty-three-year-old baby?” Jessica asked.

“More than I can squeeze into a few minutes.”

“I'll take anything you can give me.”

“I told him,” Sandy said.

Jessica screamed, and several of the cheerleaders turned around. Sandy told Jessica about the meeting at Ben's office.

“I have goose bumps on top of goose bumps,” Jessica replied, rubbing her arms.

Sandy started to mention Leanne but suddenly changed her mind.

“There's a big problem,” Sandy said. “I'm afraid Jeremy has met his brother.”

“What?” Jessica said in a loud voice that was fortunately drowned out by a roar from the stands as the Rutland quarterback completed a pass.

As Sandy told her about Dusty Abernathy, Jessica's mouth dropped open in shock.

“I'm not one hundred percent sure, and Dusty denies being adopted,” Sandy said. “But I wish you could see him. He has some of Brad's mannerisms.”

“A mother's intuition is better than a lie detector test.” Jessica reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper. “Tell me Dusty's full name again. I'll get online at home, find his picture, and let you know what I think.”

Jessica scribbled down the information.

“Did you say anything to Jeremy about the old woman at the gas station?”

“No, he would really think I'm loony. He already believes I was imagining the similarity between Dusty and Brad Donnelly.”

“How would he know anything about Brad?”

“I showed him some photos from our high school yearbook.”

“Oh.” Jessica paused. “If you let him look at my senior picture, there's no way he'll recognize me now.”

At that moment, Rutland scored a touchdown. The cheerleaders sprang into action.

“Not a word about this to anyone,” Sandy said into Jessica's ear.

Jessica raised her right index finger to her lips and nodded her head.

The game ended in a Rutland High School victory. Sandy turned down an invitation to go out with a group of students. At home, she logged on to the website for Jenkins and Lyons. She was reading about the firm when Jessica called.

“What is Jeremy thinking?” she said. “Dusty has Brad's eyes. Grab the yearbook for our senior year and turn to page thirty-four.”

Sandy flipped open the yearbook. It was a candid photo of Brad standing in front of the school with a few of his friends. The way Brad stood, the shape of his head, and the expression on his face all looked very similar to Dusty Abernathy.

“Yeah,” she said. “You're right. But for some reason, Jeremy didn't see it.”

“You're going to have to tell him,” Jessica replied.

“I already tried.”

“Try again. And both of us should keep digging into Dusty's background to see what turns up. Did you know he's been married twice?”

“I think I read he was divorced.”

“And he doesn't have any children. He has a younger sister who lives with her husband in Washington, D.C.”

“How did you find out about that?”

“One of the genealogy groups I belong to. Family researchers post data about people that ends up in public forums.”

“Do you know his sister's name?”

“Lydia Abernathy Duncan. I have her address and phone number.”

“You got that from a genealogy site?”

“No, once I had her name, I used an address finder. Do you want to call her?”

Sandy paused. “Give it to me, but I doubt I'll contact her. What would I say? ‘I recently met your brother, who claims he's not adopted, but I think he's my son.' She'd report me to the police as a cyberstalker.”

Sandy jotted down the address and phone number.

“I'll keep digging,” Jessica said. “You have to be a member of the genealogy group to access the information I found, but I'll print out copies of his family tree for you. His paternal grandfather was an actor who appeared in several films. I found a publicity picture, and Dusty doesn't look anything like him.”

Sunday morning Sandy drove to the church in Tryon. She sat down beside Deb Bridges.

“Great to see you,” Deb said, then leaned in closer. “I'm sorry the hearing in Atlanta had to be rescheduled. I know that's a big strain on you.”

“Yeah. The judge wants to hear from Maria.”

“Which makes sense to me.” Deb reached into her purse and took out a breath mint. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks.”

“Jeremy likes the lawyer on the other side of the case.”

“I know. We ate lunch together after the hearing.”

“I bet that was awkward.”

“Yes, but Jeremy is pretty strong-willed.”

“Tell me about it.” Deb made a face.

Sandy glanced over her shoulder and saw Jeremy and Leanne come in. Jeremy saw her and waved. He nudged Leanne, who smiled in greeting.

Sandy relaxed and enjoyed the service. After it was over, she and Deb made their way outside and found Jeremy and Leanne.

“Hey, Sandy,” a male voice said when Sandy and Deb parted.

It was John Bestwick. He didn't know Jeremy and Leanne, so Sandy introduced them.

“Jeremy is my lawyer,” Sandy said to John. “When I use the scanner in your office, I'm sending papers to him.”

“I'd do anything I could to help Sandy,” John said. “She's one of the best teachers in the school.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Jeremy said.

After another minute of small talk, John moved on. Leanne leaned in to Sandy.

“I like him,” Leanne said.

“If anyone wants to date my mother, they'll need my permission to do it,” Jeremy cut in jokingly.

“He's a good man,” Sandy said. “But I haven't had a date in years.”

“Come on,” Leanne said, touching Sandy's arm. “You've got a date with a couple of kids.”

“I thought we were going to wait until Jeremy talked to his mom in Charleston.”

“We are waiting as far as telling them who you are,” Jeremy replied. “I'll introduce you as a teacher who I know.”

“Are you sure?” Sandy asked. “Won't they feel lied to when they find out the truth later?”

“If you don't want to—” Jeremy began.

“No,” Sandy said. “There's nothing I want more in the world than to see them.”

“Zach won't care about finding out in stages,” Leanne answered. “Chloe will think it's great once I suggest it's like something from a book.”

“She likes the imaginary world?”

Leanne rolled her eyes. “Big time.”

“When I was her age, I had an elaborate fantasy life,” Sandy said. “I even invited my best friend Jessica to join me there.”

Leanne looked at Jeremy. “It's a relief to know where Chloe gets it.”

“You still have an active imaginary life,” Jeremy said. “Your imagination was in high gear at lunch in Atlanta the other day.”

“No.” Sandy shook her head. “That thought came from who I saw sitting in front of me.”

“What are you talking about?” Leanne asked Jeremy.

“I'll let Sandy tell you later if she wants to.”

They walked over to the children's church area that was in a one-story building. The hallway was filled with parents and children. They went to a large open room. Sandy saw Chloe sitting on the carpeted floor talking to three other girls. Zach, his arm still in a sling, was chasing another little boy.

“Zach!” Leanne called out. “Slow down!”

The little boy scampered over to them. To Sandy his approach was like a cup of water in a desert place. She drank him in.

“Zach, this is Ms. Lincoln,” Jeremy said. “She's a schoolteacher.”

The little boy's face had the combination of exuberance and innocence that only a child can display. Sandy leaned over.

“Hi, Zach,” she said.

Zach moved a step closer to his mother and touched her leg.

“Hey,” he replied.

Chloe approached with athletic grace that wasn't typical for a girl her age. When Jeremy introduced them, Sandy extended her hand, and Chloe shook it decisively.

“I understand you like to read,” Sandy said.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“What are some of your favorite books?”

As they walked away from the room, Chloe mentioned two titles, both familiar to Sandy, who then commented on each one.

“Are you a librarian?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Sandy said and smiled. “I teach English at the high school in Rutland, but I've always loved to read.”

Sandy and Chloe continued to talk about books as they walked.

“Have you read that series?” Sandy asked the girl.

“No.”

“I think you'd like them. I'll bring the first one next Sunday for you to try.”

Chloe rewarded Sandy with a smile that melted her heart. The girl looked so much like Sandy at the same age. The group reached the parking lot.