by Lisa Regan
“No,” Josie said. “Both of us having black hair doesn’t mean much. Gram, you knew, didn’t you? You had to have known, or at least suspected, that I was not a blood relation to you and my father.”
Lisette’s face flushed. “Does it matter? Does it really matter? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. I didn’t need a blood test to prove that, and you shouldn’t either. Who helped raise you, Josie? Who fought for you? I battled like hell to bring you home with me.”
“The deck was stacked, Gram. The judge you went before, Malcolm Bowen? He knew my mother, knew she was using an assumed identity. I was always leaving with her, no matter what happened that day.”
“You don’t know that. Judge Bowen was a good man, a fair man. When your mother finally left, he put the custody order through quickly and painlessly. He helped me.”
“Judge Bowen was not a good man. Sorry to shatter your illusions, Gram. If he helped you, it was only because—” She broke off as her brain worked through it.
It was only a theory that Judge Bowen had been involved in helping Josie’s mother, but Josie was sure that she had it right. She was certain that her mother had gone to him after Lisette first filed for custody and had him handle the whole thing quietly, using private mediation. Lila had had something on him—probably the knowledge that he had been having an affair with the real Belinda Rose as a minor. He wouldn’t have wanted her exposing that secret, so he would have helped her. The only way that he would then turn around and help Lisette four years later is if Lila allowed him to, and Lila wouldn’t have allowed Lisette to have custody of Josie after fourteen years unless…
“Gram, what did you do?”
“Josie Quinn,” Lisette began in a scolding tone.
“Judge Bowen was in league with my mother. They wouldn’t have let you have me unless you did something. My mother never did anything for nothing. What did you give her? What did you promise her?”
Lisette’s head hung. “My sweet Josie.”
“Just tell me.”
With a sigh, Lisette said, “Fifty thousand dollars.”
“What?” Josie’s voice came out high-pitched. “Where did you get that kind of money?”
“Your father had a life-insurance policy. I didn’t touch it after he died. I knew he would want me to save it for you to use for college or to buy your first home. But after the fire in the trailer, your mother came to me. She said she wanted to work something out. I think the police were really looking at her for burning the trailer down and for what happened to that poor boy, Dexter. I didn’t argue. I offered her twenty-five thousand, but she had to leave and never come back. She wanted more. I told her for fifty she had to give me full legal and physical custody and never set foot in your life again.”
Josie stood and paced the room. “Jesus, Gram.”
“I had to. It was my only chance. I know it was a lot of money, but it was worth it. I had to get you away from her. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do it sooner. The damage she did—Josie, I hope you know how sorry I am.”
Josie held up her hands. “Stop. Just stop. I can’t—I can’t talk about that. I just—I don’t—Gram, you knew I didn’t belong to you all along. You worked so hard to get me, but why did you keep me? Why didn’t you say anything? Did it ever occur to you that some family out there was missing me?”
Lisette gave a dismissive laugh. “A family? Please. Maybe some drug-addled man that your mother took into her bed for one night. Don’t you see? For all I knew, whoever had really fathered you might be even worse than your mother. It was hard enough getting you away from her, especially after your father died. We were supposed to fight for you together. He promised me we would petition the court for custody. We were not going to be intimidated by her. He was going to spend every last dime he had, and I was going to help him. I’ll never understand why he gave up. It wasn’t like him at all. But then he was gone, and you were alone with that… that monster. All I knew was that I had to get you away from her.”
“You could have said something,” Josie said. “Told someone you didn’t believe I was hers. Raised hell. Talked to Judge Bowen. Sent up red flags. But you didn’t.”
Lisette’s eyes flashed. She pointed a crooked finger at Josie. “You’re not listening to me. What if I had done that and we somehow figured out who your real father was, and he was worse than your mother? Have you never thought of that?”
“Not my real father,” Josie said. “My real family. Gram, I think she took me from another family entirely.”
“Josie, what on earth are you talking about?”
Josie knelt before her grandmother and held both her hands. “Gram, what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy. Or maybe, knowing what you already know about my mother, it will sound exactly right.”
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Josie returned home, trudging into her kitchen and making another pot of coffee, although the way she felt, she doubted it would help—her limbs felt like they were moving through molasses. She hadn’t felt so drained since she pulled little baby Harris out of the Susquehanna River six months ago. The day had been filled with a series of shocking discoveries, but she was no closer to figuring out where Lila and Trinity were.
Josie was so deep in thought that when she heard three loud knocks on her front door, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Through the peephole she saw Noah standing on her front stoop, both hands in his jeans pockets, his gaze fixed firmly on his feet.
She opened the door and stared at him. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Did you find Lila? Trinity?”
He shook his head, still not looking at her.
She hated this awkwardness between them, and the last thing she felt like doing was discussing what had—and hadn’t—happened between them the night before. But he was here all the same. “Would you like to come in?”
He stepped past her into the foyer, and she pulled the door closed behind them and motioned toward the kitchen. “I made coffee.”
Only when he was seated at her table did he look at her. “I’m sorry about this morning—about Tara,” he said. “I wanted to call, to warn you, but Tara wouldn’t let us go.”
“I understand,” she said.
She set the coffee mug in front of him, and as she turned away, he touched her arm. “I was trying to figure out the best way to protect you.”
Josie sighed and took a seat next to him. “Noah,” she said, “you can’t protect me from this. No one can. This fight has been a long time coming, and I’m the only one who can do it.”
“No you’re not,” Noah insisted, his hazel eyes earnest. Seeing something besides hurt and confusion in his face instantly made her feel better. “Gretchen and I are going to help you. We already convinced the mayor that it’s not you on that tape. We just have to find Trinity. We’ll get this sorted out.”
“Are you interim chief of police now?” Josie asked hopefully.
“The mayor doesn’t trust me or Gretchen to be unbiased, which is probably smart on her part. She has this guy coming in. He’s semi-retired. Has his own security firm. Used to work as a high-ranking police officer in Pittsburgh before that. He’ll be the interim chief until further notice.”
It was no surprise to Josie that Tara had someone waiting in the wings to take Josie’s job. “Right,” Josie said.
“Well, hopefully this guy is more reasonable than Tara.”
“Nothing on Trinity?” Josie asked, turning back to more pressing matters. “I know Gretchen went to the hotel. Did you get her phone unlocked?”
He raised a brow at her, but didn’t ask questions. “There were texts between her and an unknown number—a prepaid burner phone. We’re trying to see if we can track down its location now. Whoever it was said they had information about her sister. We called Shannon Payne though—that’s her mother—and her sister died as an infant.”
“Yeah, I heard that.”
“The messages were very cryptic, and after they stopped, there were
a few phone calls back and forth, including one from the unknown number to Trinity’s cell just before she ran out of her room.”
“It was Lila,” Josie said.
“But why? Why go after Trinity? And who the hell is this Heinrich guy? I couldn’t find any connection between him and Belinda Rose or Lila Jensen. Although he’s on the sex offender registry. Did you know that?”
Josie nodded. “Yes. He served almost ten years for molesting his thirteen-year-old niece.”
“How do you know that?” Noah asked. “Was it one of your cases?”
“No, by the time I started at Denton PD, he was being released.”
It had taken a long time for Josie to identify Heinrich as the man Lila had sold her to, and since nothing had actually occurred between them, there was nothing Josie could legally do to him. She’d worried that he would prey on more young girls once out of prison, but it had only taken a few days of surveillance to see that Heinrich was in no shape to assault anyone. Whatever had happened to him in prison had left him with a permanent limp and restricted range of motion in one of his arms. Most of the time he moved slowly, as though in great pain.
“I don’t understand,” Noah said.
The piercing pain in her temples was back. “There are some things I need to tell you right now.”
The easy part was telling him what she had found out from Trinity’s mother, and what her own grandmother had confirmed about Josie’s birth—Josie’s father hadn’t been present when she was born. Lila had disappeared for months and then shown up unexpectedly one day with Josie. There was no actual proof that Lila had ever been pregnant or given birth, which meant there was a definite possibility that Lila had taken her from the Paynes.
Noah was on his second cup of coffee by the time she finished. His eyes had collected dark circles beneath them.
“I know it sounds insane,” Josie said.
“No. I mean, yes. It does. Completely insane, but knowing everything we know now, I can see it. When all of this is over, you should take a DNA test. You can do them by mail now. Fast. My only question is why would Lila steal someone’s baby?”
“Because it’s the worst thing you can do to a woman.”
“All because Shannon Payne got her fired?”
“Lila’s reactions to things were never proportionate,” Josie pointed out.
He downed the last of his coffee, and they sat in silence for a few moments. It pained her to bring up the last piece of the puzzle, but Josie knew she had to. Noah had supported her blindly in the face of the mayor’s coup, and he was fiercely loyal to her—even after she had cut off their encounter so abruptly and clearly wounded him. He deserved to know everything, which meant telling him about Heinrich. “Noah,” Josie said. “There’s something else. Something I need to tell you. It’s about Ted Heinrich.”
He didn’t say anything after she told him, and it didn’t take long. The few words she could muster were inadequate to express the breadth and depth of what Lila had done to her and what was almost taken from her that day. Maybe that was okay, she thought. She had spent so many years pushing those feelings down and keeping them out of her consciousness, finally saying the words might make them lose a little of their power.
Josie watched the range of emotions pass over Noah’s face as she spoke: shock, horror, pity, sadness, disgust, anger, and relief that Needle had intervened. She knew he was searching through the silence for something to say—anything.
She was relieved when Noah’s cell phone rang. Slowly, without taking his eyes off her, he pulled it out and silenced it.
“Noah,” she said softly. “You have to get that.”
His eyes were intense, zeroed in on her with laser focus. “No,” he said, “I don’t.”
They stared at one another. His phone rang again. Again, he silenced it. “Noah, it could be important.”
He tapped his index finger on the table. “This is important. You are important.”
She smiled. “Then help me. Answer your phone. It could be about Trinity. Or my mother.”
“Lila,” he said. “From now on she is Lila. She was not a mother to you.”
“Lila, then.”
His phone rang again, and he answered it, listening briefly and ending the call with, “I’ll be there in ten.”
Josie looked at him hopefully, but he shook his head. “Sorry. Nothing on Trinity. But Gretchen did pick up one of those teenagers working at the Spur Mobile store and got him to admit that a ‘really weird old lady’ gave him weed in exchange for giving out your new number, and that she ‘did some other things’ to get him to place the craigslist ads.”
Josie stood up and walked him to the front door. “I knew it,” she said. “I bet I know which one of those rotten little punks it was too. See what else you can get from him. If she came into the store, there might be video. Find out if she told him her name. Maybe we can figure out what alias she’s using now.”
Noah stood by the front door, smiling at her. “You got it, Boss,” he said.
“Sorry,” Josie replied. “It’s a hard habit to break—bossing you around.”
“I don’t mind.” He gave her a small smile, and her heart leapt.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Josie’s cell phone rang shortly after Noah left, breaking her thoughts. Those final moments with him had stirred up so many emotions within her, she was having a hard time keeping them down. She answered without looking at the number. A man’s voice asked, “Is this Chief Quinn? Chief Josie Quinn?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “This is Josie Quinn. Who is this?”
“Chief, this is Andrew Bowen returning your call—”
“Oh, yes. I called for two reasons. One is your mother—”
“Yes, my mother,” he interjected. “She told me you called her and asked her to come in for a more formal interview. You should know that she’s retained me as her attorney.”
Josie suppressed a groan. “Let me guess, you have no intention of producing her for an interview because she’s already told my detectives everything she knows. Does that sound right?”
He laughed. “Yep, that about covers it.”
“And if that didn’t work, you were going to cite her age and status in the community and argue that there is no reason to bring her into the police station like some kind of criminal.”
More laughter. “Want to tell me how I’m going to handle my next trial too? I’d really like to know if I win or not.”
“Sorry, I’m not psychic,” Josie said. “Just used to dealing with criminal defense attorneys. So tell me, Mr. Bowen, if your mother hasn’t done anything criminal and has nothing to hide, then why not bring her over for a cup of coffee to answer a few more questions?”
She heard what sounded like him taking a drink. Then he said, “Okay, Chief, what are you really hoping to get here? You questioned Mrs. Bowen about the murder of a girl she barely knew that happened over thirty years ago.”
“I wouldn’t say they barely knew one another,” Josie said. “Several people we spoke to said they were quite close. Your mother even admitted that she became good friends with Belinda after your father took an interest in her. They felt sorry for her because she was a foster child.”
“So what?” Andrew said. “Sure they were friends, but according to my mother—and this was confirmed when you and your detectives came to visit with her—Belinda Rose went missing in 1984. That was almost a year after my mother left the courthouse to be a full-time mom. What do you think she knows that she isn’t telling you?”
A lot, Josie thought. She didn’t believe for a second that Sophia didn’t remember Lila, but she still couldn’t figure out why she would lie about it. Josie could see her lying about her and her husband’s relationship with Belinda Rose. Perhaps Sophia had found out that they were having an affair. Whether it was before or after they became friends was anyone’s guess, but Sophia had stayed with her husband for decades, raised his children, and played the role of dutiful wife.
Admitting that she had knowledge of her husband’s affair with a minor over thirty years ago was probably not something she wanted to do. But why lie about knowing Lila?
“Look,” Andrew was saying, drawing Josie out of her thoughts. “My mother is a good woman. She was a faithful wife and an excellent mother. She is active in her church and does a lot of community service and volunteer work. She’s done a lot of charity work in this county to help local foster children. I just don’t understand why you are dragging her into this investigation when she has nothing to do with it. You’re going to have to help me digest that. Otherwise, I would definitely not recommend that she meet with you or any of your detectives again. Certainly not at the police station. Now, what was the other thing you called about? Is it a different case?”
For the moment, Josie abandoned the topic of the formal interview.
“It was a personal question,” Josie said. “Nothing to do with a case.”
There was a beat of silence. Then he said, “Okay, I guess. Can’t promise I’ll answer, but go for it.”
“When you were growing up, did you ever have… extra teeth?”
“Supernumerary teeth?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Exactly.”
“Err. Yeah, I did. My mom took me to have them removed as soon as they grew in. She was always worried I would grow more, but nothing ever came of it. We had to go to a special oral surgeon in Philadelphia. Apparently, it’s pretty rare.”
“I’ve heard that,” Josie said.
“How on earth did you know about that? What’s this about?”
“Wild guess,” Josie said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bowen. I’ve got to go. It’s an emergency.”
Chapter Seventy
Darkness was creeping in as Josie pulled up in front of Sophia Bowen’s house. A single downstairs light glowed through one of the living room windows. Josie waited to see if anyone was coming or going, and when she was relatively sure that Sophia was home alone, she went to the front door and knocked. Sophia answered wearing a pair of tan slacks and a pink button-down blouse that flared at the waist. Her smile froze when she saw that it was Josie. She started to close the door, but Josie jammed a sneakered foot between the door and its frame. Sophia kept on pushing, but Josie pushed back harder.