He dropped his head.
“Turn right here.” She pointed to the small, gray stone cottage to the right. He had her so flustered with all of this talk that she’d almost missed the turnoff. “So, have you ever even delivered a baby?”
“I had a rotation through Obstetrics.” Blake managed a weak smile as he parked the car. “Does that mean I get to assist?”
“If Anna and Benjamin are comfortable with you,” she said, turning toward him as she opened the car door. “I don’t see why not.”
Blake’s eyes met hers. He reached over and took hold of her hand. He leaned close to her and her pulse doubled in speed.
“Abigail, I am who I say I am. I haven’t hidden anything from you. I’m nothing more than a doctor from New York who just found out he was adopted. That’s it. I’m certainly nothing special. And if this mess we’ve gotten into has anything to do with me or my parents or any part of my life in New York, I promise you I don’t know how or why. You have to believe me.”
Abby held her breath. His hand on hers and his pleading brown eyes had her feeling so uncertain. After a long moment, she managed to nod. “Let’s get inside.”
Despite Abby’s expectations, the labor was not fast. A long evening stretched into an even longer night and Abby couldn’t have been more thankful for Blake’s presence. Her head and body needed too much rest for her to have handled the delivery alone. The Brennemans were charmed by Blake’s humble and helpful demeanor. The baby came slowly, but he was healthy—small, but strong and able to breathe. For that, Abby stopped and thanked God.
By morning, a screaming Gideon Brenneman was ruling the roost while Anna was resting in her room. The sun was out and melting the unexpected snow more quickly than it had fallen. By 8:00 a.m., she and Blake said their goodbyes and were about to head back to her brother’s.
“I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed being a doctor more than I did in these past few hours.” Blake opened his car door for her. “Thank you.”
His soft brown eyes caught her again. A woman could get lost in those eyes. But she wouldn’t. There was nothing for her there. They were from different worlds. She’d known it before, but seeing those pictures of him on the internet had really driven the reality of that home. The beautiful, sophisticated woman who had called Blake just the day before—that was the type of woman who needed to be with a man like Blake. They lived in a world she did not belong to and never would.
“I’m glad you were there. I couldn’t have handled it alone. I’m exhausted.”
“You must be.” He closed her door and drove her to her brother’s. “Get some rest. I’ll see you Monday.”
Abby was glad he wasn’t coming inside. “What’s Monday?”
“Eli is taking me to the Hall of Records so that I can go through the birth records.”
What? Why was her brother getting so involved in Blake’s personal business? Especially concerning this adoption. Abby held in her shocked reaction. She thanked Blake again, then scrambled up the front porch and went straight to the guest room. She would confront Eli later, after a few hours of rest.
Abby lay down, closed her eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.
* * *
“I can’t thank you enough for letting me look through these files, Mrs. Betts.” Blake tucked the folder of documents under his left arm and surveyed the crowded filing room. It was stuffed with floor-to-ceiling cabinets with drawers and drawers of birth records.
A sole computer station had been set up in the far corner.
“Of course, we had all the records converted to electronic files years ago. They can be accessed from any government computers if you know the right codes. This station will give you direct access to Lancaster County.”
Blake laughed. “It’s just like the hospitals. Everything is electronic, but no one throws away the paperwork, just in case.”
“I’m going out for lunch. If you find what you need, you can print or make copies over there.” She pointed to a large Xerox machine next to the computer station. “Please lock the front door if you leave before I get back.”
“Are you sure? I can come back later if this is inconvenient.” Blake made the offer more out of politeness than sincerity. He had little time before he was needed back at the hospital. Dr. Dodd, the head administrator at Fairview, had been less than happy that he’d taken off the past couple of days, regardless of it being a firm request directly from the chief of police.
“I’m completely sure. This is all public record and if Eli trusts you, then so do I.”
“Thank you.”
Mrs. Betts left the small documents room, closing a thick metal door behind her. The air felt instantly still, as if the administrative assistant had sucked all of it away with her. The old documents gave the room a dank, unpleasant odor. Hopefully, his search would be fast. Blake was not much for tight, closed-in spaces with no windows.
He sat down at the one computer station, placing his own file folder—the one with the letter from his mother—on the small desk. He waved the mouse, and the screen lit up with a typical search page. He typed in his birth year, month and day, and hit Enter.
A swirling circle popped up. Loading. Loading. Loading. He sat back in the old office chair. What did he hope to accomplish through this search? Maybe a doctor’s name. He wasn’t sure. It was quite possible that his Amish birth parents didn’t even use a doctor for the delivery. He doubted that thirty years ago many of them did. He’d learned a few nights ago from Abby that not too many now did, either.
The wheel continued to swirl around the screen. Abby. She’d been on Blake’s mind ever since he’d dropped her at her brother’s after the all-night delivery—a night that he would never forget. It was the first time in a long time that his work, his medicine, felt good—felt as if it made a difference.
It was the way he’d wanted his work to be—the way his mom and dad had always talked about their mission trips. And being there with Abigail, watching her work, had made it even more special. At least to him, it had felt special. He wasn’t so sure she’d thought so. Then again, she’d been so tired she’d hardly been able to talk. And she was so mad at him about the internet articles and all that other nonsense in his life back home. He had to admit he didn’t miss it, any of it, not one bit.
He’d hoped to see her today. He’d thought she’d still be with Eli that morning, but she wasn’t. Her friend Janice from the hospital had picked her up and taken her to get a rental car while hers was in the shop. As soon as he finished at the Hall of Records he planned to call her.
The screen had gone dark. He wiggled the mouse. The screen relit.
No data for date provided.
Of course. He threw his hands in the air. That would have been too easy.
Think. Think. Think.
Blake returned to the search screen. He typed in the same information for year and month but left the day blank. This time the swirling wheel lasted only a few seconds before turning up three-hundred-plus entries.
Blake’s heart leaped as he scrolled down the list of surnames. Jamison, of course, was not going to be there. However, it wasn’t too difficult to spot some of the Amish surnames. But still there were so many. He needed to refine his search.
Male births.
The three hundred entries dropped to less than one hundred and twenty. Now he might thin these out by location.
Willow Trace.
He was down to twenty. Blake smiled. That number he could manage. Blake began to read through each file, paying particular attention to the ones with Amish surnames. Most of those listed Dr. Miles as the doctor. There were none from the day that he’d always known as his birthday, so Blake double-checked the four records that were nearest that date. All of those listed Dr. Miles. He printed those records. He was pretty certain that Eli or even Abigail might b
e able to tell him if they knew these families. Maybe it would lead to something. Maybe it wouldn’t. Talking to this Dr. Miles might be worth a try, as well.
Blake collected his things and stood from the computer station when he heard footsteps passing in the hallway outside the door. Mrs. Betts must have returned from lunch, although that seemed a bit quick, he thought as he checked his watch.
“Mrs. Betts?”
There was no answer. She probably couldn’t hear him through that thick door. Oh, well. He’d see her on the way out, which was exactly where he was headed.
But as he passed through the maze of filing cabinets, he happened to see that he was standing right by the files containing his own birth year. He paused. Why not take a peek?
He rolled open the drawer and pulled out the thick file for November of that year, his birth month. Just eyeballing it, his guess was the file had a lot more than three hundred records. Suddenly, he forgot all about leaving. What if some of the records didn’t make it into the computer? Blake shook his head. The files would have been entered from microfiche years ago, read by an electronic laser or something of that sort to get everything computerized.... How could they have missed anything?
Still, out of curiosity, he sat back at the desk, opened the folder and began to turn through the records. The task proved more interesting than he’d imagined. On the computer, there had been no births in Willow Trace on his birthdate. But in this folder, there were three. All male. All delivered by Dr. Miles. One listed John and Jane Doe as birth parents.
Blake grabbed the file with a shaking hand. He made a quick copy, replaced the folder and headed to the door. As soon as he could, he would find this Dr. Miles and hope he could lead him to the truth. It was something. And it gave him hope.
Blake turned the large metal handle of the thick door. He was more than ready to get out of that tiny closet of a room. But the handle wouldn’t budge. Blake shook the handle and tried again.
“Mrs. Betts?” Had she locked him inside accidentally? If Blake hadn’t felt claustrophobic before, he sure did now. “Mrs. Betts?”
He shook the door again.
Nothing.
He put his file folder to the side and studied the door handle. Oddly, it looked as though it locked from the inside. Blake turned the button lock one way and then the other but it was no use.
He was locked inside.
Blake pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Except it wasn’t in his pocket. He’d left it inside the car.
Of course...his new habit inspired by Hannah Miller.
Blake made his way back through the maze of file folders to the computer station. He hoped there was a phone there.
TWELVE
Abby spent her morning rushing from here to there in the rental car she’d picked up, stopping at the hospital, her home, the body shop and at the police station for a quick conversation with Chief McClendon. According to him, a Detective Day of the FBI had taken over the investigation of Hancock’s murder and would be in touch with her if necessary. At this point all he knew was that they were focusing on identifying Hancock and trying to make connections in New York City. McClendon warned her that both she and Dr. Jamison might have FBI tails. He’d also asked her to pass on the information to Dr. Jamison, which she had reluctantly agreed to do.
Truth was she wanted to avoid Blake as much as possible. She didn’t like the way she felt around him. He was too rich and cool and confident. She was plain and awkward and unsophisticated. She didn’t like how he’d just come to town to serve his own curiosity about his birth parents. What if he created a wake of heartache behind him? Had he even thought about that?
There was more, too. She didn’t like the way he looked at her with those chocolate-brown eyes—the way he had that whole night when he’d helped with the delivery. Of course, she couldn’t help but admire his skills as a doctor. He’d been amazing. Hard to believe he was the same man in all those internet pictures. How could he be? Abby shook her head. She didn’t know and it didn’t matter. Blake was all wrong for her and all wrong about her. She knew exactly what she wanted and it had nothing to do with him. She just had to deliver this message and then she could leave Blake to his own affairs.
Abby pulled up in front of the Hall of Records. Blake’s Land Rover was parked in front. She knew Eli had arranged for him to have access to the Lancaster birth records.
A wave of unease fell over Abby as she parked next to Blake’s car. The building looked abandoned. There were no other cars in front. This was a small operation, a satellite office to the main town hall, run by a skeleton staff.
This won’t take but a second, she thought, leaving her handbag in the car. She pushed open the double doors leading inside.
“Yoo-hoo,” she called out.
The front desk sat empty. It was dead quiet. Abby turned her head, peering around the room. Nothing much in the small room but a few chairs and a reception desk. Behind the desk was a hallway leading to the other offices. She glanced back through the glass window of the front doors, feeling more and more uneasy. The parking lot was still empty but at least across the street was a mini-mart, which had a few customers. Seeing busy people nearby should have reassured her a bit, but it didn’t.
Oh, Abby, you’re being silly. Just find Blake and get this over and done.
Abby followed the narrow hallway toward the center of the building. “Blake?”
“Abigail?” his voice answered back from the far end of the hall.
“Yes, it’s Abby.” She looked around. “Where are you?”
“I’m in here. Locked in here. I can’t get this door open.” A big metal door at the end of the hallway shook. “I wanted to call you, but I left my cell phone in the car.”
Abby smiled. No wonder he sounded panicked. He’d locked himself in the filing room. “Hold on. I’ll be right there.”
She tried the doorknob. Click. It opened easily.
“Wow.” Blake came out of the room, looking flushed and out of breath. “I do not like being enclosed in small spaces. Thank you. That was so creepy. How long have you been in the building?”
“Not even a minute. Why?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I thought I heard someone walking down the hallway a few minutes ago.”
“It wasn’t me.” Abby shivered. “Actually, there isn’t another car in the parking lot. No one around. I was feeling pretty creepy coming in this empty old building. Where’s the receptionist?”
“She went to lunch.”
“And just left you alone here?”
“She said she trusted any friend of Eli’s.” He tugged at her arm and pulled her inside the filing room. His coloring was normal again and he looked almost giddy with excitement. “Come here. Look.”
“Blake? You really want to go back into that room?” she teased.
“Good point.” He propped the door open with a wedge. “Now it’s safe. I want to show you what I found.”
“Your parents?” She followed him into the stuffy room to where he stopped at a table that held an open file folder.
“No. Adoption records are sealed for the most part. I didn’t really expect to find that. But I didn’t expect to find this, either.”
Blake spread out several file copies that he’d made. Each of them was a birth close to the same date. Abby recognized a few of the family names—Amish names. Blake pointed to the line that indicated the attending physician. “Look. All of these families used the same doctor.”
“Dr. Nathan Miles,” Abby read with a frown. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Well, this was thirty years ago—he could have retired or passed away by now.” Blake pulled out the last photocopy and showed it to Abby. “But I think he may have delivered me—I mean this could be me. Same birthdate. Same doctor. Jane and John D
oe parents.”
“Amazing. Now you can look for this doctor. Right?” She forced a smile for him even though she still had a bad feeling about his search.
“Yes. I could even talk to these other families who were having babies at the same time with the same doctor, too. They might remember who else was expecting at the same time.”
Abby shook her head.
“What? You don’t like that idea, either?”
“You can try, Blake. But Amish families are not going to talk to you as freely as you might think.”
He smiled and touched his hand to her chin, looking as if he’d conquered the world. “That’s why you’re going to go with me and help.”
She locked eyes with him—his chocolate eyes that sucked her in and made her forget about everything else in the world. Did he feel that when he looked at her? He had to feel something—she could see it in his face as he leaned toward her, his gaze on her mouth.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Abby. You—”
Whooph.
Abby and Blake pulled apart as a flash of light glowed at them from the hallway.
“What was that?” Blake tossed the file papers down and raced toward the hallway.
Abby followed but stopped short behind him as she felt the heat coming from the corridor.
“The only exit is on fire.” Blake turned to her. “There’s no way out.”
* * *
Abby tried to lunge past him.
“Stay back, Abby. There’s some sort of accelerator on that. It’s spreading fast.” He pulled her back behind him into the filing room.
Flames lined the hallway to the front office. They flew higher and hotter, inching closer to the end of the hallway and the room they were now trapped in.
Lancaster County Target Page 11