A Gift of Bones--A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery

by Carolyn Haines

  I decided right then and there I would talk to Oscar about adoption. It wasn’t my business, true enough, except that Tinkie’s happiness was always my business. There were plenty of babies who needed a home. Oscar had rejected adoption long ago, but that was before he’d fallen in love with little Libby when Tinkie cared for the infant. All Oscar needed was a push in the right direction to give his heart to another child. After this case was solved, that would be my number one mission. Tinkie deserved to be a mother. Now, though, we had to resolve the baby brother issue and find Eve. “Tinkie, what about the baby boy?”

  “Just gone. The hospital records indicate he was sent to an orphanage north of Jackson, but I called the adoption agency there and couldn’t find any files that a male infant had been brought in on the dates associated with Joanne giving birth. It’s been almost twenty years and the state was keeping paper records back then. They’ve closed the old orphanage north of Jackson and if I’m not mistaken, the building is razed. I’m afraid a lot of the records were also destroyed. And there’s always the chance there was never an adoption. Back in those days, a family member could step forward and take on the responsibility for a child. As you know, some of the relatives really weren’t related. Convenient uncles and such.”

  “Then there’s no way to track those children now,” I said. It was a depressing reality.

  Tears rimmed Tinkie’s eyes. “It breaks my heart to think of children lost in the system—or worse. I hope a loving family adopted him. Every child deserves a chance at love.”

  “That’s a hot button for you, Tinkie. When this case is over, you’re going to have to tell me why. Right now, I have an idea. I know who might be able to turn over some new facts.”

  Tinkie looked at me and her blue eyes lit. “Budgie! He’s a dynamite researcher!”

  “Yep. And a very smooth liar. I fell for some of his alternative facts hook, line, and sinker.”

  “We could ask Budgie to research for us and maybe he wouldn’t tell Coleman.”

  It was possible. If Tinkie asked. She had a way with men and getting them to do her bidding because it made them feel manly and good. “We can try. Or rather you can try.”

  “I’ll handle Budgie.” She looked once more at the empty statue pedestal and then at the two patrol cars pulling into the parking lot. “The boys are back, Sarah Booth. You should leave before Coleman decides to arrest you. I know he’s dying to exert his authority over you. Maybe a little discipline? You sort of bring out that need in people, you know.”

  She was teasing me, which meant I could pay her back when I found the proper venue. “Fine. I’ll see if I can run Cece down and see what happened between her and Will Falcon. She needs to know that Eve has a brother, too.” I paused for a moment, considering the fact I had no relatives. “Cece has a cousin she doesn’t know a thing about, if the child survived and grew up. I wouldn’t mind finding some long-lost relatives.”

  “They might not want to be found,” Tinkie teased gently. “We need to make our plans for the money drop and escaping the men.”

  “Good idea.” That was going to take some major manipulation.

  * * *

  Before I went back to Dahlia House, I needed to pick up another gift for Coleman. I’d never match his present, but I had something special for him, too. Because of the Christmas pageant, we’d planned to open presents early Christmas Day—and if Coleman was still speaking to me. I’d bought several things I thought he’d enjoy, but there was something special I’d had made for him. Gift giving was not one of my natural talents, but what was Christmas without that one present that came from another’s most special place to yours.

  The thing I loved with all of my heart was Dahlia House, the land, Jitty, the horses, the critters, my private eye agency, my friends, Coleman—not in any particular order. It changed from day to day. But I wanted to share my passion for some of these things with Coleman, and so I’d ordered him some handmade riding boots. He was a fine rider, and he didn’t need special gear to make him more accomplished or more exciting to see astride Lucifer or Reveler or Miss Scrapiron. But good boots were always such a pleasure, and these were an open invitation to the world I loved so much.

  There was a local boot repair shop in Zinnia. The owner, Luther Lee, also made a few pairs every year. He did it for pleasure, and he put his heart into the job. I’d opted for a plain design—Coleman was not a fussy man. He went out of his way to avoid calling attention to himself. With that in mind, I’d gone for a stitched design that was crafted with the skill only Luther could bring to the job. The bootmaker had said the boots would be ready by lunchtime.

  The boot shop was close by the bail bond shop that my friend Junior ran, and I stopped in to say hello. Junior looked like a tired old hound dog with wrinkles that sloped from his scalp in toward his nose. His skin seemed to hang in folds of weariness, but he was an active man for his age. He’d been a friend of my father—an integral part of the justice system my father believed in so strongly. Junior offered the accused a chance to get out of jail and work or prove their innocence. My father had been opposed to holding the poor in jail because they couldn’t pay a bond. Junior did his best to make bail affordable for those he deemed were not a risk.

  I hurried toward Junior’s establishment as fast as I could walk. The entire city of Zinnia had a door decorating contest for local businesses. Some shops brought in the local teens to decorate, putting up foil and wreaths, evergreen boughs, and strings of lights. It made the town a showplace.

  For his Christmas decorations Junior had gone minimalist. Glued to his office door was a pecan, a package of saltine crackers, and a gumdrop—all in a row. I stood outside his shop staring at the puzzle. He was a big one for puzzles and loved to keep everyone guessing.

  I saw him get up from behind his desk and walk to the window watching me. He was grinning to beat the band.

  I pushed open the door. “What the heck is this, Junior?”

  “It’s about Christmas.”

  “Really? Pecan, crackers, and gumdrop?”

  “Think about it, Sarah Booth. It should have special meaning to you. Your mother loved this particular … Christmas ditty.”

  I hadn’t heard the word ditty in a long time. Heck, it was probably Jitty who’d last used it. Jitty! Damn! I got it. Junior had created a rebus on his door. Pecan—nut. Saltines—cracker. And finally the gumdrop—Sweet. Nutcracker Suite. Jitty had invaded poor Junior’s brain to give me another indecipherable message.

  “Your mother would be proud,” Junior said. “Your daddy would think you’re wasting your brain power. You know, he figured you’d be a journalist or a lawyer.”

  “Do you think he would have been upset at my desire to act?” I’d often wondered what my parents would really make of the decisions I’d made in life so far.

  “Naw, he would have been perfectly comfortable with your choices. He knew you inside and out, Sarah Booth. You ended up back here where you belong and you’re working for justice in your own way. Both James Franklin and Libby would be proud. That little brain fever of a sojourn in New York City notwithstanding.”

  Junior always made me feel good and connected to the past. He and my father often drank coffee together at a little café that had long gone out of business. In my mind’s eye, I could still see them sitting on the orange stools at the Three Sisters lunch counter, sipping coffee as they talked over politics, justice, and how to keep the Zinnia Chamber of Commerce under control. My father hadn’t been a fan of development for the sake of growth and had fought many a battle over it.

  “Are you going to the Christmas pageant tonight?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Tell me, after last year’s fiasco they aren’t going to use live animals again, are they?”

  I honestly didn’t know. But there had been a terrible pig episode at the last Christmas pageant where two juvenile delinquent young boys had tried to ride a pig toward the manger and nearly trampled several of t
he children in the pageant. Hence this year the adults were playing the major roles.

  “I don’t think they’re using live animals. I’ve discouraged it. The animals hate it and that pig incident, and the spitting llamas, were the last straw, I think. I’ll see you there. And Merry Christmas, Junior.”

  “You, too, Sarah Booth. I hope Santa brings you everything you desire.”

  “I already have it,” I said. Not everything, but the other wishes on my list couldn’t be purchased or tracked down by even the best living sleuth. That was Jitty’s department.

  I blew him a kiss and headed over to Luther’s Boot Repair to pick up Coleman’s boots. With the beautifully tooled boots in a box under my arm, I went on to the newspaper to look for Cece. She’d just arrived back from talking with her uncle Will, and she looked like she was ready to explode.

  “He is the biggest jackass. He is a spineless cockroach. He is a jelly-root booger. He is green pond scum. He is pig shit between my toes. Aaarrrrgh!” She actually grabbed fistfuls of her hair and for a moment I thought she would pull herself bald.

  “Cece! Stop it!” I gathered her in my arms and held her—or she might say restrained her. She struggled but finally stopped when she realized she couldn’t easily shake me off. She stood in the circle of my embrace, heaving and sobbing.

  I was surprised that Will had come clean with her about his illegitimate children, but I was glad I didn’t have to tell her. “I’m so sorry. Tinkie has been trying to find the second baby, the little boy. We haven’t given up, but there aren’t any records and I don’t know how to trace what happened to him.”

  “So I have a male cousin, and that infant was abandoned by his father. He’s disappeared without a trace. We don’t even know if he’s still alive.” Cece’s loud anger had turned into cold fire.

  “Will and Carla took in one baby and left the other?” The blood had drained from her face except for two spots of bright pink in her cheeks. She was furious. I hadn’t seen her this mad since seventh grade when hormones kicked in full force and she’d beaten up a bully at school who was three times her size. She had made him beg for mercy. If she got away from me and made it to Will and Carla’s, she would pound them into the dirt.

  “I don’t know what happened for a fact. We’re still looking into it.”

  “What do you know?” Her eyes were completely steel gray, like a shark’s. “Tell me.”

  I told her what we’d found about the babies being born and left at the hospital for adoption. How Will and Carla had taken Eve but left the baby boy. How Joanne Woodcock had taken her own life, and the male infant had disappeared into the system.

  “I’m going to kill them.” She said it and meant it. “I’ll figure out how to do it so I don’t get caught. Will fathered two children and abandoned one of them! He let that bitch Carla abuse Eve and he doesn’t have a clue what happened to his son. I used to feel sorry for him, but not anymore. He and Carla deserve each other. I’m glad my father isn’t alive to see what Will has become. I am truly going to kill him.”

  Her big talk was all bluff, merely an indication of how badly she was hurting. Cece wouldn’t really kill anyone. Or so I hoped. “Tinkie and I think the person who took Eve may be her brother, this missing baby.”

  “Because she was adopted and he was rejected?” She scoffed. “If he knew what hell Eve lived in with my shit-for-brains uncle and that rabid witch who is his wife, he would be dancing at the idea he was left behind.”

  I knew, and she knew, that such rational thought would be completely overridden by the rejection, loss, and humiliation that any child would feel at being unwanted. At having a sibling chosen, while he was left behind. That would bite with cruel teeth.

  “How can we find this … man?” Cece asked.

  “I don’t know. You’re a relative, maybe you could go down to the adoption agency north of Jackson and ask. Tinkie called, but they said they didn’t have any records. It was probably the truth, but sometimes folks aren’t properly motivated to look for old paperwork and the truth is, there probably aren’t any records.”

  “That’s at least a five-hour drive.” Cece did the calculations in her head. “What if the kidnapper calls and demands the ransom sooner. I’m afraid to be too far away.”

  She was right about that. I had a solution, but she wasn’t going to like it. “We could send Budgie. He’s the best at research. He knows all the current computer programs and how to use them. He can do in an hour what would take me a week. And we don’t have a week.”

  “What if he gets Coleman involved?”

  “That might happen. I can’t ask Budgie to lie to Coleman. That would be wrong, especially since Coleman knows about the kidnapping but you won’t let him help with the money drop.”

  “Ask Budgie,” she said begrudgingly. “Ask him to go now and please hurry.”

  I nodded. It was a step in the right direction. Because we didn’t have another single lead—except for the Bromleys. I had a terrible suspicion they might know a lot more about Eve, her brother, and the whole mess than they’d let on. I had to get my partner and head to the river to talk to them.

  “Cece, what are you going to do?” Cece at loose ends was unacceptable. She’d end up in jail because she’d drive right back to Will and Carla’s farm and pulp them.

  “I have to cover a Christmas party for the Delta Women’s Society. Trust me, if I could get out of it, I would.”

  One thing about Cece, she took her job seriously. The Delta Women’s Society Christmas party was their biggest fundraiser of the year. All of the high society dames would be there dressed to the nines. Cece photographed it every year—and she couldn’t miss this time. She would be safely tied up with work.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to Budgie.” I pretended I didn’t want to do it knowing full well Tinkie, in all probability, already had Budgie corralled into doing her bidding. If baby boy Falcon could be found, Budgie would do it.

  “Thanks, Sarah Booth. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Tinkie.”

  “Me either.” I said it and felt only a twinge at my tiny deception. “Now I’d better make tracks.”

  Before she could ask more questions, I beat it back to my car and called Tinkie. “Plans have changed. I’ll pick you up in front of the courthouse.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To pay a visit to the Bromleys.”

  “Again?”

  “Oh, yes. Third time’s the charm, or haven’t you heard?”

  “What’s up?”

  “We have to make them tell us the truth.”

  “I agree. But how?”

  “Just be ready.”

  “Sarah Booth, time is running out. If we deliver the money and Eve is released, that’s all well and good. But if we meddle in this and something happens…”

  She didn’t have to finish. “Look, we each have to do what we believe is best. Cece thinks we shouldn’t involve the law. I’ve honored her wishes, even though it goes against my gut instincts. We can’t guarantee the outcome.” I was talking to myself as well as her. If this went bad and Eve or her baby were harmed, it wouldn’t matter whether Cece forgave me because I could never forgive myself. I also knew assuming that guilt wasn’t fair to me but I would do it anyway. I was well and truly in a pickle.

  “What do you expect the Bromleys to tell us?” she asked.

  “What happened to Eve’s brother. They know. I’m positive they do. They’ve been involved in this up to their ears. And they don’t want the money. In fact, I believe they only want Eve to be returned safely. But they are linked to this someway. They have a responsibility in this, and I believe it’s because they know the kidnapper.”

  “And you believe it’s Eve’s brother?”

  “I do. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I think maybe the Bromleys adopted him or took him in or somehow got involved in his life and now they’re neck deep in this mess. All they want is for Eve to go home safely and have her baby.”

 
“And what about Dara Peterson? And her baby? Where are they in this whole snarl?”

  “I don’t know.” This was the most troubling aspect of the case, aside from Eve’s safety. We had a new mother, a sick infant, a blanket in a freezing creek, and a kitchen covered in blood. If there was danger to Eve and her child, it centered around Dara Peterson and her baby, but I couldn’t see how the pieces fit.

  “There are an awful lot of babies mixed up in this case.” Tinkie sounded a little woebegone.

  She was echoing my thoughts, but I saw no reason to encourage her fears. “And all of them are going to be fine. We’ll make it so.”

  “Sarah Booth, do you think you and Coleman will have a child?”

  Her question stopped me cold. I hadn’t given it conscious thought, but if I were honest, I’d have to admit that I’d had little flashes of Christmas with a toddler in the house. Would he, or she, be able to see Jitty? Oh, if the baby could see her, then Jitty would well have met her match. She’d be reduced to the role of imaginary friend—the thought made me smile. I was still smiling as I pulled to the front of the courthouse where Tinkie waited.

  “You look like the cat who ate the canary.” She was still talking to me via her telephone.

  I ended the call and turned to her. “I don’t know about a child. Both Coleman and I have dangerous jobs. Is that fair? I know what it’s like to lose my parents.”

  “That was an accident,” Tinkie said. “There’s no guaranteed way to prevent tragedy. It can and does happen to everyone all around us. That’s an excuse because you’re afraid to care that much about a child.”

  “Maybe.” I wasn’t going to argue. “I don’t know what Coleman wants, or if we’ll even be together long enough to consider a child. How about we put that on the back burner for a year or two?”

  “You don’t have much longer than that. I mean those eggs are viable for only so long.”

  She eyed me and I felt like a horse being judged by its teeth. Its very long teeth. “Thanks, Suzy Sunshine.” Before she could insult me further, I stepped on the gas and shot out into traffic. It was Christmas Eve, a very busy time in Zinnia proper. Last-minute shoppers clotted the roadway and I drove carefully. I didn’t want to bump off a pedestrian.