Child of Mine (6 page)

“Are you guys busy?” she asked.

Chet hesitated for a moment. “Uh . . . we were just talking about you,” he replied. “You up for one of Eloise's medley soups?”

“I'm starving,” she replied, glancing at her cell phone clock.

They agreed to meet at three o'clock, and Kelly hung up, kneeling down to stroke Felix.

It takes a
lot to ruffle Chet's feathers,
Kelly thought, recalling his hesitance.
Something's up. . . .

O
riginally from Austin, Texas, the Stilsons lived in an upscale neighborhood in the northwest section of Akron, nestled at the edge of a forest.

Kelly had always enjoyed the drive along scenic Yellow Creek Road and the turn into Chet and Eloise's long private lane. She stopped for a moment to check the mirror and decided she looked too pale. Pinching her cheeks, she sighed.
Little help that did,
she thought as she continued on for the quarter mile, following the gravel road. The red and white rosebushes and the occasional statue decoration offered her solace.

When she arrived at the house, a tall white-haired man in ranch attire, sporting a well-groomed mustache and bushy eyebrows, met her at the door and gave her a bear hug. She breathed in his Texan musk, what he jokingly called
toilet water.
“How's my favorite detective?” he said with a grin, his tanned face grooved with wrinkles. His cowboy hat was missing today. Chet without the hat was hardly Chet at all.

She gave him an appreciative smile and followed him through the two-story entryway and into the great room with its cathedral
ceiling, lofty windows, long drapes, and graceful arches, in keeping with the Mediterranean style of the house.

Due to a childhood accident—a broken leg that had never properly healed—Chet strutted like a feisty ranch hand, not unlike the quintessential movie cowboy John Wayne. Kelly hid a grin as Chet shuffled across the room with a somewhat awkward yet decidedly rugged swagger.

Chocolate-covered strawberries and mixed nuts awaited them in the sun-drenched alcove adjacent to the kitchen, where Eloise, a rather petite woman in a flowing white sundress, had just closed the refrigerator and turned to smile at them, holding a pitcher. “Sweet tea, anyone?”

Eloise reminded Kelly of anyone's favorite grandmother, peppery gray brown hair and granny glasses, tender with her words. Easy to love.

“Sure,” Kelly said. “Thank you.”

Kelly and Chet were seated at a marble table overlooking the nearby lake, and while they snacked, Kelly waited for the ball to drop. Something was off-kilter; she could sense it in Eloise's faltering expression.

“Are you sleeping, honey?” Eloise asked softly, still moving about the grand kitchen.

Remembering Ernie's similar concern, Kelly smiled. “When I can.”

Eloise nodded, but the worry in her eyes remained. “Eating enough?”

“Some . . .”

Eloise served the hearty chicken and vegetable soup, ladling each portion into delicate two-handled white soup bowls.

Nerves on edge, Kelly crumbled a few crackers and stirred them into the steamy broth, then ate slowly, careful not to clink loudly.

Eloise asked Kelly if she'd like a sandwich, but Kelly politely demurred. “The soup is delicious and plenty for me, thanks.”

At one point, Chet chuckled at his wife's overly attentive
manner, and she smiled in return. They talked about the church where they'd originally met, where Kelly rarely found time to attend, and they also discussed Kelly's dwindling funds, the slowing of recent contributions. She felt embarrassed, not expecting them to continue their support. They'd already done too much for her, but the fact remained that she
needed
their financial help.

Chet wiped his mouth with his napkin and, after meeting Eloise's gaze, fixed Kelly with his Texas
let's get down to
business
look. Chet's rough manners, a refined version of Ernie's own gruff nature, belied his quick mind. Chet had made millions from shrewd investments, real estate holdings, and smart partnerships, and he and Eloise, both in their late sixties, were in the “giving back” stage of their lives.

“Recently, I had a long conversation with Ernie Meyers,” Chet began, reaching for a toothpick.

Kelly gripped her glass, heavy in her hands. She could imagine it slipping through her fingers, breaking into a thousand jagged pieces.

“I think I've got a handle on why we haven't been successful,” Chet said, pausing until Kelly met his gaze. “God is not blessing our efforts, and for good reason.”

“Oh, Chet!” Eloise exclaimed, then quickly lowered her voice. “We agreed you wouldn't be so
direct
.”

“That's okay,” Kelly replied softly, setting her slippery glass down. “I want to hear this.”

Chet leaned forward, folding his callused hands. “Ernie reluctantly shared some things. My guess is he really didn't want us to know.” He glanced at Eloise again, requesting approval with his eyes.

Kelly held her breath. Ernie, clever as a fox, would have tiptoed carefully, aware that Chet was funding a lion's share of the search.

“Fact is, you've been extracting DNA unethically, Kelly.” Chet's toothpick dangled from his lips at an odd angle, and she knew from her time with the Stilsons that this particular habit annoyed Eloise no end.

“Is it true?” Eloise looked at Kelly, her eyes moist. “You're taking it without permission?”

Kelly swallowed hard. “Only when I have to.”
Which is always,
she thought.

“I'm not surprised,” Chet clarified, his eyes softening. “But I am disappointed.”

“I didn't know what else to do,” Kelly said. “I wanted you to have something to show for your money, and I—” She stopped.
I
wanted to find my daughter.

Kelly felt as if the room were closing in on her. Her mouth went dry, and the tears welled up. Eloise reached over and patted Kelly's arm.

“Will you excuse me, please?” Kelly asked, rising, and being the gentleman he was, Chet stood with her, nodding, concern etched in his brusque expression.

Kelly hurried down the hall, Chet's words haunting her as she closed the bathroom door and stared in the mirror. The circles under her eyes had become darker by the week, and yes, she was as thin as a rail, but only because it was so hard to put on weight, not because she wasn't trying.
I feel fine,
she thought.
Just a little tired.

Kelly ran some cool water into the seashell basin and splashed the water on her face, drying her cheeks with a towel. Brushing her fingers through her lifeless hair proved futile. She forced a smile and said it out loud: “I feel
fine
.”

But she also felt exasperated and embarrassed, as if she'd been caught stealing candy at the grocery store. And she feared that Chet and Eloise regretted hitching their wagon to a falling star.

I had no choice,
she told herself, but she respected Chet and couldn't help wondering if he was right.
Is God displeased with me?

When she returned, Chet's toothpick had disappeared. Kelly sat down, determined to take her medicine, to let them have their say.

Chet tapped the table with his knuckles. “Bottom line: We need to take the royal way, honey. We can't expect God to reward dishonesty.”

She nodded, but the implications of changing tactics hit her hard. Getting parents to simply hand over DNA samples had proven to be time-consuming and nearly impossible.

Chet continued. “I also want you to know, I plan to give Ernie another ten grand.”

“Oh, Chet . . .
thank you
,” Kelly said, looking at Eloise. Tears came to her eyes again. These days, it took months to gather ten thousand dollars from her feeble fund-raising.

Eloise nodded. “Honey, we're committed to seeing this through.”

“But you have to promise,” Chet warned, “no more fraudulent testing.”

She caught the “
no nonsense”
look in Chet's eyes and waited for him to say,
“
No more stalking.”
If he did, how could she possibly agree to that? How was she supposed to find Emily if she didn't actually
look
for her?

Kelly folded her hands and felt the room whirl about her. She was beyond overwhelmed, not only by their continued generosity, but by the giant wall that Chet had just placed in her path.

He extended his big hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Kelly shook on it.

They bowed their heads, holding hands as they had dozens of times before while Chet prayed aloud, his deep voice booming. “Our gracious heavenly Father, we come humbly today to thank You for Your many blessings. . . .”

Later, in the entryway, she reached for Chet, and he hugged her back tightly, gripping her arms, admonishing her. “You're wasting away to nothing, Kelly-girl.”

“Goodness, Chet,” Eloise muttered.

“I'll try to eat more,” Kelly promised.

Chet frowned. “We worry about you. You're the daughter we never had, Kelly. You know that, don't you?”

Kelly managed a smile. “I love you guys.” She hugged Chet again and kissed Eloise's cheek.

Kelly walked the stonework steps that led to her car, and when
she looked back at them, Chet and Eloise were still standing at the threshold, waving. She waved back, grateful for their generosity, sustained by their love, and encouraged by their faith.

Even so, her promise to Chet had put a chink in her methods. And that wasn't the worst of it. Despite his objection to her testing methods, Chet didn't have a clue what Ernie did to gather his leads. Kelly didn't fully grasp it, either, but Ernie's high-tech surveillance process, a process he'd farmed out to other “associates,” surely involved invasive and unethical, if not illegal, intelligence work. If Chet knew the full scope of their methods, would he have pulled the financial plug long before now?

On the other hand
, she thought, beginning her convenient rationalization,
I don't know for
sure, do I?

Kelly put her car into gear and sped down the lane, gravel rattling beneath the car.
Now what do I do?
she thought, not surprised that Ernie hadn't been more forthcoming with Chet.

She'd learned from years of association that, despite his devout faith, Ernie harbored a different perspective, one that she also shared. According to Ecclesiastes, there was a time for everything, including war. Truly, finding her daughter was like a war—she used every method available, including desperate measures, camouflage, and outright deception, not to mention brazen faith and foolish hope.

Dear Chet could be rather long-winded at times, but Kelly soaked it up.
“Whenever things are bleak, missy, consider
it an opportunity. Anyone can believe in the light of
day, but few persist under the shroud of darkness. Never
forget, faith is a light that's best seen in
the dark.”

Kelly smiled at the memory, her heart beating harder as she thought about Ernie's latest lead.
“
You're gonna like this one,”
he'd said by phone. Bless his heart. Ernie was her other rock, and roadblocks or not, there was always another lead, another reason to hope, and another chance for a miracle.

She rolled down her window, reveling in the afternoon sun.
“I do believe,” she whispered. “And I want to do this right. Help me follow Your path—the royal way—to Emily.”

For the rest of the way home, Kelly's prayers mingled with the wind as she asked for divine direction, for the opening of doors and windows, for the tiniest break. For anything, even a crumb.

“Someday You'll say yes,” she whispered. “I know You will.”

Jack stood in the school hallway, surrounded by wall displays of students' art, announcements, and photos of classroom activities. He surfed the web on his tablet, reading the news, waiting for his appointment with Nattie's teachers.

That morning, after confirming the imminent return of favorable wind conditions, he'd left Nattie in Laura's care and drove his Ford pickup to Wayne County Airport, northeast of Wooster. There, he did his own preflight of the older Cessna 172, examining the flight surfaces, filling the plane with gas, and topping off the oil. He'd arrived early for a reason—it had been a while since he'd taken to the skies, and aside from Nattie, flying was still his greatest love.