by Kathi Daley
“Oh, I don’t know.” Tony winked. “I don’t figure it will take me long to have you crying for mercy.”
“We’ll see who ends up doing the begging,” I challenged as I called Tilly and Titan to my side and headed for the door. Tony and I both knew he could beat me at any game the industry had to offer, but occasionally he’d skillfully let me win without making it obvious he was doing so. In the beginning, I believed I’d beaten him, but after spending a considerable amount of time with him, I’d begun to pick up some very subtle tells when he was holding back.
It was a cold but clear night, and the dogs and I headed to the private lake on Tony’s property. I wasn’t sure exactly how much acreage he owned, but I knew he didn’t have any neighbors for as far as the eye could see. I used to wonder why Tony would choose to live in such isolation, but the more time I spent with him, the clearer it became that he lived such a busy, challenging, intellectual life that the quiet was welcome during his downtime.
I was about to head back to the house when I received a text from Coby letting me know he might have found a lead and wondering if I’d be available to have breakfast again to discuss it. I texted back that I’d be happy to meet him at Sisters’ Diner at the same time tomorrow morning. His mystery had intrigued me, and I was glad he was willing to let me join in on the search. I couldn’t imagine why a woman would leave her newborn at a church, but my gut told me that Coby’s mother must have had a good reason for doing it. I pulled out the photo I still carried in my pocket. The woman was beautiful, but her long dark hair and welcoming smile couldn’t mask the haunted eyes that seemed to be looking at someone or something behind the photographer.
When the dogs and I returned to the house, the dishwasher was running and Tony was putting another log on the fire. “Before we get into our quest for world domination, I wanted to ask if there’s anything about the search for my father you haven’t already told me.”
Tony took my hand and led me to the sofa. He indicated that we should take a seat. “So far, the only clues I have are the two photos I found. I’ll keep looking, but I think we should be cautious as we proceed. I’m not thrilled that the photos aren’t traceable.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“Normally, the photos I find with my software can be traced back to an origination point. Some were initially posted on social media, or maybe they appeared with a news article. Other photos come from security or traffic cameras, while others are associated with drivers’ licenses or some other type of identification. When I tried to run a trace on those photos, I got nothing. Obviously, someone took the photos and uploaded them to a location accessible via the internet, but the source has been masked. I think we’re looking at some extremely high-level security.”
“Like the CIA?”
Tony shrugged. “Maybe. Although there are other options. I think we need to proceed with caution so we don’t tip off the wrong people that we’re looking in the first place.”
“What do you mean by the wrong people?” I couldn’t keep the fear that had crept into my heart from my voice.
“If someone went to all the trouble to apply that much effort to mask the origination of the photos, they may also have set up an alarm letting them know if they were accessed. I’m not saying they’ll be able to track my activity to your father—I have my own search security in place—but I feel like we’re dealing with professionals who know how to play the game.”
“Do you think my dad is mixed up in something dangerous or illegal?”
“I don’t know, but we should keep that possibility in mind.”
I sat back against the sofa but didn’t reply. I hated the idea that the man who used to give me piggyback rides might have disappeared from our lives because he was a criminal who’d escaped some law enforcement agency. Of course, being a fugitive isn’t the only reason a person might disappear. He could have been living a second life with another family and maybe the duplicity caught up with him. Or maybe he really was a spy or secret agent who’d removed himself from our lives to protect us.
“So, are you ready to try for world domination?” Tony asked.
“I was born ready,” I teased as he booted up the game. “I’ll need to keep an eye on the clock, however. I have another early morning and long day tomorrow.”
“I guess I should have brought the game to you so you wouldn’t have to drive home at the end of the evening.”
“Next time for sure.” I logged on to the game so my stats could be recorded. The first space robots had just shown up on the screen when my phone rang. I’d just entered the battle, so I let the call go to voice mail. When we came to a place it would be easy to pause the game, I asked Tony to do so. The call had been from Mike, and my smile turned to a frown as I listened to the message.
“Is there a problem?” Tony asked after I hung up.
“Mike had the crime scene guys search Armand Kowalski’s car after it was towed to the impound lot. They found a photo of Coby in the glove box.”
“So he knew Coby?”
“I’m not sure. Coby didn’t say anything that would indicate he knew the man in the other vehicle last evening, and Mike said in the voice mail he’d called him in and showed him the photo. Apparently, it was taken while Coby was in Kalispell prior to coming to White Eagle, though he wasn’t aware anyone had taken it and had no idea why the man would have it. Coby said he’d never seen or met him.”
“What exactly did Coby tell you happened last night?” Tony asked.
“That he was following the other car when it spun out of control. He tried to avoid hitting it but was unable to do so.”
“And the damage to the cars? Where was each car impacted?”
“Both had damage to the front end and Kowalski’s car had damage to the rear. Coby said he hit the car in front of him after the driver lost control and spun around, but the front of Coby’s vehicle hit the back of Kowalski’s, so it must have turned all the way around. After Coby hit it, Kowalski’s car plunged over the embankment and hit a tree, which must be what caused the damage to the front. I’m going to return Mike’s call. Maybe he knows more than he said in the message.”
“I’ll grab us more beer,” Tony offered.
“Just soda for me. I still have to drive home.” I set my controller on the table in front of me and called Mike. He didn’t pick up, so I left a message. Tinder settled into my lap and I put my hand to my mouth as I let out a long yawn. “Sorry. I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”
“I understand,” Tony said as he returned to the room with two sodas. “You’ve had a busy day. Maybe we should try the game another night.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. ‘That might be a good idea. I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know whether Coby wants you to use your facial recognition software on his photo.”
“Okay, but be careful. Something about this thing doesn’t feel quite right.”
“Yeah.” I said as I stood up and began to gather my things. “I’ve had the same feeling, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what’s bothering me. Maybe it’ll come to me after I get some shut-eye.”
Chapter 5
Friday, February 9
When I arrived at Sisters’ Diner the next morning, Coby was already seated in what was becoming our regular seat. He’d ordered us each a cup of coffee, and mine was waiting for me as I slid into the booth across from him. “Let’s order, and then we can compare notes,” I suggested.
Aunt Ruthie came over just as I pulled off my jacket and set it aside. Tilly had settled herself under the table, so I slipped her the dog biscuit I had in my pocket. Coby ordered ham and eggs and I chose a waffle. I stirred some cream into my coffee and jumped right in.
“Before we begin, I want to ask you about the photo Armand Kowalski had in his vehicle.”
Coby frowned. “I don’t know him or where he got the photo. It must have been taken this past Sunday, while I was at the church where I was abandoned as a baby, asking
the parishioners about the photo of the woman I believe to be my mother.”
“When exactly did you arrive in Kalispell?” I asked.
“On Thursday of last week. I arrived early in the day, checked into my motel, and went to the church to speak to the pastor. As I mentioned, he’s only been there about a decade, so he didn’t know anything about a baby being abandoned so long ago. The pastor at that time had died, so I decided to show up on Sunday, hoping to find a longtime parishioner who remembered the woman in the photo. I didn’t, but, as I said, I did find a woman who recognized the logo on the blanket. I stayed in Kalispell, following leads that went nowhere, and then, on Wednesday of this week, I headed to White Eagle.”
“Had you done anything else with the photo between the time your adoptive father gave it to you and visiting Kalispell?”
Coby nodded. “The first thing I did was contact the agency who handled my adoption. The person I spoke to gave me what I thought was a canned response about confidentiality. I decided to go over his head, tracking down the email address of the head of the agency. I sent her a long email detailing what I knew and the unanswered questions that were haunting me and attached a copy of the photo my dad had given me, which I scanned in to my computer. A week later, she called me to say that while she was sorry she couldn’t help me, my adoption records listed both my parents as unknown. I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere with the adoption agency, so I headed to Kalispell. It was the only lead I had, that I’d been abandoned in a church there. The lead I got pointed me here.”
“It’s possible the man in the other car could have been following you ever since you contacted the adoption agency.”
“Why would anyone be following me?” Coby asked. “It makes no sense. Besides, he was in front of me when the accident occurred.”
“I didn’t mean he was literally following you. I just meant he could have found out you were coming to White Eagle and decided to head in this direction as well. Are you sure you really have no idea who he could be?”
“I’m sure. I’ve never seen him before. Do you think he knew who I was and what I’m doing? Maybe he had an interest in the woman in the photo too.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know. But the fact that a man who had a photo of you came to White Eagle on the exact same day you did makes me uncomfortable. I think we should tread carefully.”
“I don’t disagree, but I’m not going to stop looking for answers. Now that I have a lead on the identity of my biological mother, I can’t seem to focus on anything other than finding her.”
“I totally understand that.”
We were quiet as our breakfast arrived. My mom walked away and I turned back to Coby. “So, you said you had a lead. What have you found?”
“I drove by the Honeycutt house yesterday and looked around,” Coby began. “As would be expected of a place that’s been vacant for five years, the yard is overgrown and there appears to be rot settling into the front porch. What I found most interesting, however, are the differences between what’s in the photo and what exists there today.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“First, I have this photo, but I don’t have a date for it. I’ve been hoping the woman is my biological mother, and that I can use it to find her, but she could be just some other random person. When I saw the changes that had taken place on the property, I realized dating them could help me date the photo.”
“I guess that makes sense. So what’s different?”
Coby laid the photo on the table between us. “See this fence?” Coby pointed to a wrought-iron fence that ran along the front of the property. “Now there’s a wooden picket fence in its place. I don’t know when the wrought-iron fence was replaced, but the wooden one isn’t new; the wood is worn, and the paint is chipped and faded. If we can find someone who remembers when the fence was replaced, we’ll have a dot on the time line. If the fence was replaced more than thirty-five years ago, we’ll know the woman in the photo isn’t my mother because I’m only thirty-four. Or at least it isn’t my mother when she was pregnant with me.”
“Okay, I see what you’re getting at. The changes can help you narrow in on a date for the photo. What else did you notice?”
Coby pointed to the photo again. “See this tree? It’s a lot bigger now, and the initials CW are carved into the trunk right about here. If we can find out who carved the initials and when, we’ll know the photo was taken before that.”
Aunt Ruthie came by to refill our coffee, but I didn’t miss a beat. “So we have the fence and the initials in the tree trunk, two time points. Anything else?”
“The only other thing I noticed was that the shutters on the front of the house are white now. In the photo they’re black. I realize finding someone who remembers when the fence was replaced, shutters were painted, and a tree was carved after all these years will be difficult, but it seemed like something as opposed to the nothing I had before I visited the house.”
I took a bite of my waffle, chewed, and swallowed. “We may not need to find someone who remembers. There are albums in the library with photos of the town and the surrounding area that go back more than a hundred years. I don’t know for certain there are photos of the Honeycutt house, but I think it would be worth the time to look.”
“I know you have to go to work, so if you want to tell me where the library is, I’ll go there later.”
I took out my phone. “I might be able to do you one better.” I dialed the number Wilma had given me so we could arrange for our dogs to play. “Hey, Wilma, it’s Tess. I have a friend in town doing some research who’d like to have a look at the town photo albums. I have to get to work, but if you don’t mind coming in a few minutes early, I can bring him over and introduce him.”
“I can be there by eight-thirty,” Wilma replied. “I was going to go in early to catch up on shelving anyway.”
“I need to start my route by nine so that would be perfect. We’ll see you then.” I hung up and looked at Coby. “Finish up. We have an appointment with Wilma at eight-thirty.”
“Thanks so much. I’m so grateful for all your help.”
“There’s more. I have a meeting with Edith Honeycutt’s neighbor, Dotty Norris, at noon. If you want to come with me, meet me at my Jeep at eleven forty-five.”
“I’d love to come. Where will the Jeep be parked?”
“If today is another two-bag day, which I suspect it will be, I’ll park in the center of town. I’ll probably be pretty close to the diner, if you want to look on the street in this area.”
“I’ll be here.”
After we finished breakfast I took Coby over to the library. I couldn’t help but notice the look of interest on Wilma’s face when I introduced them. I guess he was pretty good-looking and I estimated she was around my age, so I supposed the pair were well suited at least in terms of age. I explained to Wilma what Coby was looking for, then headed to the post office to pick up my deliveries for the day.
“Looks like another two-bagger,” Queenie said as I checked in.
“Figured. I have a lot going on today, so I’ll need to hurry. I have an appointment during lunch, so I’ll be off route from around eleven forty-five until twelve forty-five. I’ll have my cell if you need to get hold of me for any reason.”
I picked up my bags and started toward my Jeep. I was going to need to drop and run at most of my stops or I’d never get through my route by five. The secret, I knew, was to avoid eye contact or even a cheery greeting if I could help it.
Miraculously, I managed to make 60 percent of my stops before I had to meet Coby. I headed to my Jeep, where he was waiting. I offered to drive, and he hopped into the passenger seat, greeting Tilly as we got underway.
“I’m very busy today, so my plan is to have a brief but hopefully informative conversation with Doris. She tends to go off on tangents, which we’ll need to steer her away from at all costs.”
“Got it. No tangents.�
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“Were you able to find anything in the library to help with dating the photo?” I asked as I pulled onto the highway that led out of town.
“Sort of. I was born in 1984. We found evidence that the fence was changed sometime between 1962 and 1989. That’s a lot of years, but it’s something. I didn’t find a photo of the house with the white shutters it has now; the shutters were still black in a photo I found dated 1989. None of what I found proves the woman in the photo is my mother when she was pregnant with me, but nothing nullifies the theory either. Wilma’s going to keep looking. She’s very nice, and so helpful.”
“She is a very nice woman. She’s new to the area, so she won’t have the background some of the old-timers do, but I’m sure she’ll do what she can to help you find the answers you’re looking for.”
I pulled into Doris’s drive and parked near the front door. I rolled down the window and told Tilly to stay. I could have dropped her off with Bree, but that hadn’t occurred to me at the time I delivered her mail. Still, I didn’t want to show up at the home of a woman I didn’t know well with my dog in tow. It was a cool day and I parked in the shade. Tilly would be okay for a few minutes.
We got out of the Jeep and hurried up the walk to the front door.
“Tess, do come in,” Doris greeted me after the first ring of the doorbell.
“This is Coby Walters,” I introduced.
“And you’re looking for your mother?” she asked as she showed us into the parlor.
“Yes, although I don’t have a lot to go on.”
Doris indicated we should sit on the sofa, and Coby handed her the photo.
“We hoped you might recognize the woman in this photo,” I said.
Doris studied it. “She does look familiar.” Doris tapped her chin with her index finger. “I think she stayed with Edith for a while, but I can’t say I know much about her.”
“Do you remember when she was in town?” I asked.
Doris shook her head. “It’s been so long and my memory isn’t what it used to be. It seems it must have been at least thirty years ago. Maybe more. If this is the girl I’m thinking of, she kept to herself most of the time, but Edith introduced her as her niece, Daisy. I only remember that because as far as I knew, Edith didn’t have a niece, at least not one she’d ever mentioned. I suspected the girl was hiding from someone, but I didn’t know that for certain.”