by Hannah Jayne
The train!
The second she remembered where she knew him from, he was gone, zigzagging across the hospital’s well-manicured lawn and into the parking lot. He threw a glance over her shoulder and caught Riley’s eye, his gaze so icy that she felt it zing through her.
Why was he here?
Riley considered flipping on her heel and asking Carla for a bed in the psych ward when her cell phone rang and nearly gave her a heart attack.
“Are you going to stand there all day or are you coming into the coffee place?”
Riley licked her lips, trying to pull her scattered thoughts back together. “Um, yeah. I mean, no. I’ll be right over.”
She crossed the street without looking and thanked God that her stupidity didn’t turn her into a hood ornament. She took several deep breaths before yanking open the coffeehouse door. She chanced a glance over her shoulder, expecting the train man to be right behind her, his nose pushed up against the window, but the sidewalk was empty. She turned, scanning the place for JD.
“Hey.”
He was sitting at a corner table, a spiral notebook open in front of him, its pages littered with his precise black scrawl. He pressed a coffee toward Riley and smiled. “It’s full fat. Extra whipped cream.”
She took the coffee and tried to mirror JD’s smile. By the odd way he looked at her, Riley was pretty certain that her mirrored expression was a fun house one. She leaned over and sipped her coffee.
“Almond Roca?” Riley asked, letting the sweet warmth of the coffee slip through her.
“Shot in the dark,” JD said with a shrug. “So, did you get what you needed at the hospital?”
Riley bit her bottom lip then frowned. “Actually, no.”
“No? They didn’t have Jane’s medical records? How is that possible?”
Riley took a big swig of coffee, letting it burn her throat and buy her some time. “They had the records but they—they’re not at the hospital anymore.”
JD dropped his pen and leaned back in his chair, flexing his arms over his head. Riley looked away as his biceps stretched out the arms of his T-shirt. “You mean they’re at the hall of records or something now?”
Hope bloomed in her gut. “Yes, hall of records. Carla—from the front desk—said I should go there now.” Riley looked at JD’s open notebook, at his still steaming coffee mug. “Or in a little bit.”
He flipped his book closed. “Why wait?”
“Because I have no idea where to go, for starters.”
JD sauntered over to the front counter and leaned in toward the barista. He gestured Riley over.
The barista drew a crude map on a paper napkin, explaining the busses they should take to get to the hall of records. Once they confirmed that they had it, the barista looked up at JD and then at Riley. “Whaddya’ll want at the hall of records? They don’t have anything there but ancient stuff.”
“Actually, my friend is looking for fam—”
“Farming records,” Riley interjected. “For a school project.”
JD shot her a strange look but the barista didn’t seem to notice. He just shrugged and pushed the napkin into Riley’s hand. “Well, good luck.”
“Farming records?” JD asked, his brow creased.
“I have my reasons. Look! That’s the number 27 bus.”
It took nearly twenty minutes of lurching stops and nondescript townscape before they reached the hall of records, which was also, ominously, the end of the line.
“Everyone off,” the bus driver said.
“Everyone” was Riley and JD, and they did as they were told, blinking into the heavy sunshine as it glared off the enormous white-washed walls of the Granite Cay Hall of Records.
JD grabbed the door and swung it open for Riley. “Farming records await,” he said, ushering her inside.
The nervous flutter was back, shooting through Riley’s belly. She felt the coffee churn and prayed she wouldn’t throw up. The hospital was a dead end. But this will be it, she told herself. This is where all the records are.
Riley stepped in and waited for JD, who let the door go behind her. “Hey.” She caught the door before it closed and poked her head out. “Aren’t you coming in?”
“I thought it was boring family stuff for Jane. You know, like at the hospital.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
Riley’s heart thundered in time with the butterfly wings batting in her gut.
I’m not into JD—not at all, she told herself. It was nice to have him on the train and nicer still that he came out to make sure I didn’t end up taking a train to hell or the end of the world, but suddenly she felt a little naked, a little alone—and a little uncomfortable.
“I was just asking.”
JD held her eye for a beat then flipped open his notebook and sat on the heavy cement wall outside. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Riley stepped into the hall of records, and the glass door snapped shut behind her. Like a mausoleum door. The thought was fleeting, and she convinced herself it was due to the white marble floors in front of her and the ornate stucco décor on the walls rather than the sudden feeling of breathlessness. Her chest was tight and her blood ran hot and heavy through her limbs.
Riley followed the signs to the help desk, her heels clacking on the marble, the sound reverberating through the halls in vague echoes. Her lips were pressed together, and she realized she was holding her breath. She shook herself and put on her warmest smile.
“Hello,” Riley said to the woman behind the help desk. “I’m looking for some records regarding a baby that was born in this town? It was eighteen years ago and—”
The woman didn’t look up from her magazine. “Mmm hmmm.”
“I checked Granite Cay Hospital—where the girl was born—and they said to come here. This is her birth certificate.” Riley unfolded the paper, smoothing it against the desk, and pushed it to the woman. The woman looked up, her dark eyes scanning Riley, then the page.
“Is this you?”
“No, but—”
“She family?”
Riley had seen enough television to know that family were generally the only people privy to this kind of information so she nodded, trying her best to look totally nonchalant. “Yep. Jane is my sister.”
The woman scanned the birth certificate one more time, and then scanned Riley as if there was any connection to be made between the two. “What exactly are you looking for?”
“Just some record—where she lived, where she moved. That kind of thing.”
The woman arched an eyebrow and Riley rushed on. “We—um—were adopted. Split up. My mother did drugs and we have different fathers and hers wasn’t around so…” She forced a quaver in her voice and tried to remember the speech she had heard on some Lifetime movie about boxcar children or orphans or something. “I just want to find her so we can put our family back together.”
Riley blinked back tears and saw the desk woman soften. “Oh, that’s so sad. Well, where she lived could be public record in the census. You don’t know who adopted her?”
“Well, no, not exactly. But I figured since I had her birth certificate, maybe there would be another copy here and that would tell me more.”
Desk woman nodded. “It could.” She pointed. “Go right back there. If it’s only—what, eighteen years ago—it should be on the computers. If not, you can try the stacks. Otherwise, there’s the microfiche, but she seems much too young to be there.”
Riley licked her lips. “What about newspaper articles? I—I, uh, think I remember someone saying something about a big crime spree about the time she was born. Bank robbery or something.” Riley was almost nervous about how easy it was becoming to fabricate a backstory for Jane.
“The stacks. If you need to photocopy anything, it’s twenty-five cents a page, or ten cents a pa
ge to print anything out. Good luck.”
Riley refolded the birth certificate and held herself back from running toward the computers and stacks.
Twenty minutes later, she had located every other baby born at Granite Cay Memorial Hospital on June 14, 1995, but no Jane Elizabeth. She had never registered for school, and her parents never owned a home or signed up for the census. It was like Jane and her family never existed at all.
Riley’s finger hovered over the Granite Cay Gazette. The idea of Jane—of Riley herself as Jane—was weighing heavily on her now. Jane and her family didn’t exist. But the birth certificate proved she did once. And it was hidden—locked away in Riley’s baby book. Her stomach soured and she chewed the inside of her cheek. Could her parents—? She looked back at the computer screen.
If Jane had been kidnapped, there would be an article about it. If something horrible had happened to the family—murdered, killed in a car crash—it would be in the Gazette.
She blew out a long sigh and typed in Granite Cay—Major Crime—1995–1998. Her stomach burned, and it seemed like the ancient hall of records computers were deliberately taking hours, ratcheting up her own tension. Finally a slew of articles populated the screen, each one stabbing at Riley.
If she was Jane—if her parents stole her—what did that mean for her? For them?
She clicked on the first article, the tightness in her heart becoming unbearable—until she read the headline: “Major Crimes Division Breaks Car Thief Ring.” She clicked to the next: “Drugs Found in High School Student’s Locker.” She rested her chin in her hands, clicking article after article on small-time crimes that the city of Granite Cay considered major. There wasn’t a single kidnapping mentioned, the only death an eighty-nine-year-old woman in a house fire. Somewhere, a band of graffitiing teenagers ran amok.
“Were you planning on leaving me there all day?”
Riley snapped up when she heard JD’s voice then immediately regretted it when her neck started to spasm. She rubbed the aching spot just under her ear. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess time got away from me.”
“Well, that’s understandable.” JD squinted. “What with this fascinating report of suspected score tampering at the Sixth Annual Dolphin Swim Tournament.” He feigned terror. “Where the Granite Cay Water Bonnets took second place for the third year in a row. What the hell is a water bonnet? Are they seriously named after hats?”
Riley was too exhausted—and annoyed—to be amused. She thunked her forehead on the desk in front of her. “Ugh. I’m sorry. And this was a big waste of time too. I couldn’t find a single thing I was looking for.”
“Well, yeah, if you’re looking for medical records in the Gazette.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Yeah. Pizza.”
“How is pizza going to help me find…medical records?”
“It’s not, but it’ll help me from dying of starvation.” He grinned and she couldn’t argue; her stomach growled at the thought of a big, greasy pie.
They found a diner a block away from the hall of records and slid into a booth. “If you’re getting a roasted veggie with no cheese, I’m out,” JD said, scanning the menu.
Riley wrinkled her nose. “What is a roasted veggie with no cheese?”
“It’s a pizza.”
“No, it’s not. An all-meat supreme with extra cheese and double sauce is a pizza.”
JD shut his menu and grinned. “My kind of woman.”
After the waitress took their order, JD leaned back in his seat and eyed Riley. Riley immediately felt self-conscious. “What?”
“Are you ever going to tell me why we’re really out here?”
Riley looked around the restaurant. “We’re out here because you’re starving.”
“In Granite Cay, Ry. Who’s Jane and what are you looking for?”
FIVE
Nerves like steel bands wound around Riley’s heart. She tried to swallow but found her mouth was dry. She looked into JD’s eyes and thought about their detention week. He was funny; he was nice—he was smart. She licked her lips.
“I really don’t know who Jane is. I came here trying to find out.”
To her surprise, JD didn’t laugh. “OK. So if you don’t know who she is, where did you get the name?”
The birth certificate was burning in Riley’s pocket. She took a deep breath and slid the paper across the table. She scrutinized JD as he opened the folded paper, his hazel eyes scanning it, then meeting hers.
“This is a birth certificate.”
Riley nodded. “I know.”
“For Jane. But you don’t know who she is.”
“No.”
“She must be someone pretty important if you’re willing to hop a train and come all the way out here for her.”
Riley swallowed. “You hopped a train and came all the way out here.”
The waitress broke in, sliding an enormous pizza in between them. She turned away and JD already had a giant bite of pizza in his mouth. He swallowed. “So you have no idea who Jane Elizabeth O’Leary is?”
Riley pulled a slice of pizza onto her plate but couldn’t bring herself to eat. “I’ve been trying to figure that out, but I keep coming up empty.”
Recognition flashed across JD’s face. “The hospital, the hall of records.”
“I couldn’t find anything.” She picked at an ancient glob of cheese stuck to the Formica table. “So, I—I’m beginning to think that Jane Elizabeth O’Leary is me. I’m her.”
She waited for JD to drop his pizza or reel in stunned silence. She waited for him to grab his phone and dial 9-1-1.
Instead, he took another huge bite and asked, “So you’re adopted?”
Riley’s mind was blazing. “No,” she said quickly. “No, I wasn’t adopted. That’s not even my birth date.”
“So then you’re not Jane.”
Riley was getting exasperated. “I think I was Jane.”
“So your parents changed your name and your birth date? That’s weird. Why would they do that?”
“Exactly. Why would they?” She looked around, suddenly feeling very exposed. She dropped her voice to a hoarse whisper. “I think I may have been kidnapped.”
JD stopped chewing and put his slice on his plate. “Why do you think that?”
“I found this birth certificate hidden in a slit in my baby book. I’m almost positive it’s me. I don’t even look like my parents. They won’t let me do anything. I had to beg for a month to get them to let me on the school trip to look at colleges.”
JD looked around the pizza parlor. “Well, in hindsight…”
“You know what I mean!”
“So all that adds up to kidnapping but not to adoption.”
Riley grabbed the slice from her plate and took a big bite. “My parents would have told me if I was adopted.”
“Because the parents who you think are kidnappers, who changed your name and your birth date, wouldn’t lie to you.”
Riley chewed her pizza, considering. “I know it sounds weird, but I know them. I know I’m not adopted. We talked about adoption all the time. The family across the street from our old house adopted a kid from Vietnam. We were friends with them. I remember having a conversation with my dad, though, before Thuy came home. I asked him how I could make the little girl feel welcome and he didn’t say, ‘you can tell her you were adopted too.’”
JD picked up his slice again. “Well, that seals it. You, Riley Spencer slash Jane O’Leary, were kidnapped because your father didn’t say you were adopted.”
Riley threw down her pizza. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you. You’re a real ass, you know that?”
“OK, OK, I’m sorry, Ry. It’s just kind of a big thing to wrap your head around, isn’t it? There have to be a million other explanations for that birth certificate.”<
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“The bigger thing is that nothing came up at the hospital or at the hall of records. Even if baby Jane isn’t me, why did this family just disappear, and how would my parents be involved?”
JD straightened. “Involved? Like, you think your parents may have made Jane’s parents disappear?”
Riley put her chin in her hands, frowning. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”
“Well, you said you found the birth certificate in your baby book. Don’t you have pictures of yourself as a baby with your parents? My parents have them all over the house. It’s ridiculously embarrassing.”
Riley warmed, thinking of JD as a smiling, round baby in the arms of his doting parents. But the thought was immediately replaced by something cold and dark. “There aren’t any pictures of me as a baby. Nothing until I was about three.”
JD sipped his Coke. “Really?”
Riley started to feel clammy and panicky again. “Not a single one. My parents said that the house we used to live in flooded and we pretty much lost everything. That’s why my mom started making the new baby book.”
“Do you remember anything about the old house?”
Riley tried to remember. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, I kind of remember the layout, but I’m not sure if it’s because that’s what they told me, you know? It was in Chicago, I remember that—I think.”
The pizza sat in Riley’s gut like a heavy black stone. Heat snaked up the back of her neck and suddenly everything—the pizza parlor, the booth, her clothes—felt wrong. Who am I? she thought, the panic pinballing through her.
“Do you remember anything about Chicago?” JD was asking.
Riley shook her head, everything going in super slow motion. “Only what they’ve told me.”
JD blew out a sigh, and Riley held his eye, tears threatening to well in hers. She didn’t know why it was so important that JD believe her. She didn’t know why it seemed to ache that he looked at her with a slight, disbelieving grin on his face.