Not just persons—her sisters.
The reality of what Addy had learned tonight blew him away all over again. How had Carl and Irene kept this kind of secret? He’d sure as hell never heard anything about Addy being adopted. A sign up ahead drew his attention from the troubling musings.
“Here we go.” He pushed the blinker stem and prepared to make a right into the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-through. He ordered two large coffees and proceeded to the pickup window. He paid up and passed her the first cup.
“Thank God.” Addy cradled the cup in both hands and inhaled its fragrant aroma.
Wyatt set his in the cup holder. As he rolled back out onto the street, Addy carefully removed the lid and blew until she dared to take a sip. She expressed more of those appreciative sounds. That made him smile.
A few blocks later he parked in the lot at the Jones County Sheriff’s Department and shut off the engine. “You ready?” He picked up his cup, took a much-needed swallow.
Adeline turned to him. “I’ve tried and tried to recall a moment when I should have known.” She shook her head. “But there isn’t one. The family photo albums have pictures of me going all the way back to infancy.” She shrugged. “I mean, I looked like an infant. Maybe I was already six months old,” she amended. “The only oddities were my blue eyes and blond hair and the fact that most of my baby pictures wereof me alone. No photos of one or the other of my parents holding me while I was really small.”
She shrugged, the movement screaming of just how tired she was. “No one in the family, none of our friends, ever had a slip of the tongue. How could none of them have known? Or been so careful that it never came up accidentally? I guess that’s what makes the whole situation so unbelievable. It’s too clean ... too perfectly executed. You see this shit in the movies, but this is real.”
Wyatt wished Irene had come forward and privately given him the information about the Prescott woman. He wasn’t entirely sure it would have made any difference, but it would have provided another angle to investigate. Then he could have prepared Addy for this. On some level he understood why Irene hadn’t. His gaze lingered on Addy. There were some things a person just didn’t want to lose.
Get your head on straight, Wyatt.
“I suppose,” he offered, “we’ll understand how this all happened eventually.”
“I suppose.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Sheriff Henley’s waiting for us.” She reached for her door.
Wyatt did the same. He hopped out of his SUV and started around it. At the rear bumper he stalled. From the moment Addy had come home, he’d been entirely focused on her and this investigation. He’d let everything else slide. Hadn’t paid any attention to the routine things like the fact that his SUV needed a good wash.
He’d promised himself he wouldn’t let this happen. And look at him, he’d spent scarcely three days in her presence and already she’d become the center of his universe. He considered the grime veiling his vehicle and shook his head. This was going to be like nine years ago all over—
The thought derailed as his gaze zeroed in on the rear windshield. “What the hell is this?” The well-lit parking lot allowed him to read the words scrawled across the skim of road grunge.
“Oh. Yeah.” Addy wandered back to where he stood. “I forgot to tell you about that.”
If Henley hadn’t been waiting for their arrival, Wyatt felt confident he would have raked Addy over the coals right there in the parking lot when she told him about the incident at the cemetery. But Henley was waiting and Addy had been through enough for one day.
He didn’t even bother rubbing in the fact that he’d warned her that going anywhere alone wasn’t a good idea.
She knew.
Instead, he settled a hand at the small of her back and guided her to the front entrance. Fear of what could have happened ripped at his insides. It was a flat-out miracle she was here with him right now instead of out there somewhere with this psycho.
Sheriff Vicki Henley waited for them in the small lobby. “Come on in.” She looked almost as weary as Wyatt felt. “I see you already have coffee, so let’s go to my office and I’ll bring you up to speed.”
Henley was a petite woman but her bearing was strong and confident; she looked to be about fifty. He doubted there was a deputy in her department, female or male, who didn’t walk the line for this by-the-book lady. Though Wyatt had never had the pleasure of coordinating an investigation with her, he knew her reputation.
When he and Addy had taken seats in front of Henley’s desk, she launched right into the briefing. “I don’t know how much you already know about Daniel Jamison, but whatever you’ve heard, everything has changed. We have a situation.”
Wyatt had a feeling they should have checked the state database or at least googled the man before coming. But Henley had insisted he come to her office ASAP. Three hours of hard driving had gotten them here. And it sounded very much like things were about to get exponentially more complicated.
Just what they needed.
“At this point,” Wyatt explained, “we know nothing at all about Jamison. I made the call to you and we drove straight here.”
Henley nodded. “It’s all bad. One of my deputies is dead and a nurse at Forrest General was also killed by this man earlier today.”
“Does Jamison have a history of violence?” This question came from Addy.
“No. That’s the weird part.” Henley opened a folder on her desk. “Ten days ago we received a domestic disturbance call through the 911 dispatch for the Jamison residence. The place is off Highway 29, basically in the middle of nowhere. The address was wrong in the system.
“My two deputies had a hell of a time finding it. They showed up at the residence forty-five minutes after the initial call. Apparently Jamison either saw the vehicles turn into his drive or figured out his wife had made the call. He was nowhere to be found, but he hadn’t been gone long.”