“That’s also a possibility,” she confessed. “We just need to confirm his whereabouts. Verify he’s safe and that nothing is amiss. If he isn’t involved in this, he has nothing to worry about. There would be no need to disturb his life.”
The old priest leaned forward, braced his forearms on his knees, and looked directly into her eyes. “You do understand, Detective Cooper, that this is your brother and sisters you’re talking about. You may have been an infant when you were separated, but you share the same DNA.There are memories of your time together, whether you can call them to mind or not, imprinted on your spirit. These are not just strangers. You speak so matter-of-factly, I’m not sure the reality of this situation has fully hit you yet.”
She slammed a mental door on the emotions his words stirred. “Do you know his name and where he lives now?” She needed that information. Whatever it took, she had to find the one other person with a connection to the victims in this case. Her instincts were usually on target.
The seconds counted off, one trauma-filled instant at a time, before the old man finally spoke again. “When the tragedy happened, we scrambled to help. Our primary concern was the children. There were no grandparents, no aunts and uncles. Only the church and the friends of the Solomon family there. Several of the church hierarchy gathered and discussed the best course of action. We didn’t want the children to go into the state system, not when we had fine families, some of which had not been blessed with children, among us.”
Adeline let the matter of the brother go for a moment, was mesmerized by the story.Her story.
“The decision was made to send each child to a different home and that, as part of the agreement, the children would not be told before the age of twenty-five about the heinous tragedy. We felt this would allow the children to have a normal life without the taint of that horror haunting them. Beyond that age, the decision was solely up to the adoptive parents. You,” he pressed Adeline with his gaze, “were our top priority. Your safety and happiness.”
For a long moment Adeline simply sat there. She couldn’t break from the trance. The images his words evoked kept flashing in front of her eyes and evolving. Three tiny girls whisked away from a horrific murder scene. Crying and clutching each other. Men in robes gathered in a small room, deciding their fate. This was like a bad movie.
“He lives in Laurel,” Grayson said, dragging her from the disturbing thoughts. “His name is Daniel Jamison.”
Adeline pushed to her feet, her legs rubbery beneath her. “Thank you, Father Grayson. You’ve been a tremendous help.” She tried to summon an appreciative smile, couldn’t do it.
Next to her, Wyatt reached out and shook the priest’s hand. “I’ll keep Sheriff Billings briefed on the situation so that he may keep you informed.”
“Father Grayson.” His name was out of her mouth before she’d fully made the decision to ask the question. But there it was. “How did you and the church hierarchy make your decision as to which families took the children, or did you only have three families in need?”
He searched her eyes for a time, then smiled. “There were many, many things to consider. In the end, we did what was best for all involved.”
She nodded. Tried to recall the times she’d sat in church next to her parents. God, that had been a long time ago.
“Tread carefully,” Grayson said to Adeline. “There is much more than you appear to realize at stake.”
“I will.” She did manage a tight smile then. “Between Sheriff Billings and the news, I’m certain you’ll know if I don’t proceed with caution.”
“Whether I do or not,” Grayson countered. “God sees all that you do, Detective Cooper.Hewill know.”
32
Laurel, Mississippi
Monday, December 27; 3:50 a.m.
“Addy.” Wyatt hated to wake her. She’d struggled to be so strong the last few hours. She was totally exhausted, physically and emotionally.
She roused, straightened. “Where are we?”
“Laurel city limits.” Sheriff Henley had agreed to meet them at her office. Henley didn’t do any explaining on the phone, but her tone had spoken volumes about the situation. Not good. Something big had already gone down here in Laurel and it was no doubt connected to this investigation.
“Man, I need coffee.” Addy pulled her hair free of the ponytail and finger-combed it before putting it right back into the twisty rubber holder.
The ponytail was part of her standard operating procedure. The hair went back before her weapon slid into her holster after she dressed each morning.
If this night hadn’t been so screwed up, he might have been able to work up the initiative to smile just thinking about all her little habits. “Coffee it is.” He put finding an open drive-through on his mental radar.
That Adeline lapsed immediately into silence told him that waking had summoned the events of the previous ten or twelve hours. Life altering. Emotion shattering. Damn, this was hard on her.
“I should check on my mom.”
“I called about half an hour ago,” he said, slowing her fingers on the keypad of her cell. “She’s still resting. Her vitals are stable.”
Addy put her cell away. “Thanks.”
The streetlights allowed him to see the dark circles under her eyes. The resigned set of her lips bothered him the most. She was dealing with the issues as best she could with a missing persons’ investigation and a threat to her own safety on her plate.