“I got a letter from a woman claiming she’s my birth mother’s sister, my aunt.”
Fina took a bite of the galette. The peaches were firm but deeply flavorful, and the crust was rich with butter.
“You’ve never heard from your birth parents or their families before?”
“No, and I’ve never had any interest in finding them. I know some adoptees are dying to know, but I never felt like anything was missing.”
Fina pressed her fork down into a slice of peach. “So how do you feel about this?”
Risa studied the kitchen cabinets, a look of consternation on her face. “I don’t know. Confused. Curious. Want to run in the other direction and ignore the whole thing.” She smiled.
“I don’t think those are unusual responses,” Fina said. “I’ve worked adoption cases before, and they usually bring up a lot of . . . stuff.”
Risa picked at her galette. Fina’s plate was nearly empty.
“What do you need from me?” Fina asked.
“I need you to verify that she is who she says she is.”
“Does she have any documentation?”
“She claims she does, but how hard would it be to doctor something like a birth certificate, especially one from forty-five years ago?”
“Not that hard. Do you want to have a relationship with this woman or just verify her identity?”
Risa put a small bite of galette into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. “I don’t know, but I definitely don’t want to get invested unless it’s legitimate. You hear about people being cheated out of money, and I’m not naïve, but when someone claims that they’re your blood relative . . .”
“It’s complicated. I understand.”
“So, obviously, I want to hire you. Officially.”
“I’m happy to do the work, but you don’t have to hire me.”
“But I want this to be a real case, not just something you fit in on the side.”
“I will treat it as a real case regardless, but why don’t we do this: You give me the information this woman has sent you, and I’ll make some
preliminary inquiries. If it ends up being especially time-consuming, then we can discuss a retainer.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I am, but I insist you pay me in food in the meantime.” Fina smiled.
“Like you’ve ever gone hungry at my house.”
“True. You do know the way to a girl’s heart. This is delicious, by the way.”
“Thanks. I’m trying to enjoy peaches while they last. Let me get the info for you.”
Risa left the room, and Fina took the opportunity to run her finger across her plate and lick the sweet crumbs off. She liked to maintain some modicum of manners in front of others.
“This is it,” Risa said, handing Fina a plain white envelope.
Risa’s name and address were handwritten on the front in a heavily slanted cursive, and the postmark was from Portland, Maine. Fina turned the envelope over, but there was no return address.
“And here is a copy of my birth certificate. The adoption version.”
“Great. This gives me a place to start.” Fina looked at the document. It stated Risa’s name, the names of her adoptive parents, and her birthdate of July 17, 1966, at 3:43
A.M.
in Rockford, Maine.
Fina tucked the items into her bag and followed Risa to the front door. “What about your biological mother? Did this alleged aunt say anything about her?”
Risa shook her head. “Nope. She said she’ll tell me more when we meet in person.”
Fina nodded. “I’m on it, and I’ll treat it with the utmost discretion.”
“Thank you, Fina.”
“I’m happy to help.”
Fina was climbing into her car when she saw a man down the street, seemingly tying his shoe. He was taking a rather long time to do it, so she started walking in his direction. He popped up from the sidewalk and broke into a jog in the opposite direction—which would have been fine if he hadn’t been wearing jeans and slip-on Merrells. She
couldn’t be sure it was the man from the park, but it made her antennae quiver.
• • •
“Oh, no. The angel of death.” Frank chortled as Fina took a seat on the couch in the Gillis’s living room. Frank was in his recliner, his nightly bowl of vanilla ice cream in his lap. He muted the Red Sox game and looked at her.
“Very funny.
I
didn’t kill him.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. “In a related issue, I just got a weird feeling.”
“If it involves a man, I don’t want to know.”
“It does involve a man, but not in the way you think.”
Frank gestured with his spoon for her to continue.
“I think some guy is following me. I was over at Risa’s, and he was hanging around outside. Tying his shoe.”
“Did you inquire about his business?”
“Started to, but he took off.”
“What makes you so sure he’s interested in you? Maybe he was just out for a walk and needed to tie his shoe.”
“And ran away when I went toward him?”
“You do scare some people,” Frank murmured, grinning. “So what’s your next move?”
“Hmm.” She tilted her head from side to side. “I think I’ll proceed with caution. Is that the right answer?”
“Someone taught you well, my dear.”
“The best. When’s Peg getting back from her book group?”
“You mean ‘Masochists Monthly’? Who knew there were so many books about female genital mutilation and wasting diseases?”
Fina laughed.
“I expect her home in about a half hour.”
“I’ll stick around, if that’s okay.”
“There’s diet soda in the fridge and ice cream in the freezer. Help yourself.”
Fina got a drink and watched the rest of the game with Frank. She glanced at him occasionally. Her father and Frank were close in age, but sadly, the similarities ended there.
• • •
Fina was at Milloy’s licking guacamole off her fingers. It was late, and they were sprawled on his couch, snacking and watching a reality dating show that made celibacy look appealing.
Her phone rang. “Yes, Renata?” She really wasn’t in the mood.
“I don’t suppose Rosie has been in touch with you,” Renata said.
“With me? No.” Fina reached for a napkin and cleaned off her hands. “What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Renata, wait!” Fina struggled up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”
“No, everything isn’t okay,” Renata snapped at her. “I can’t find Rosie.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but calm down.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Start from the beginning. When did you last see her?” Milloy wandered into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows in question. Fina shrugged and watched him open a Corona. He held the bottle up to her, but she shook her head. Something was telling her she was suddenly on duty.
“As you know, she was annoyed with me on Monday night so she went to stay with her friend Laura. She didn’t come home last night either; I assumed she was still pissed, but when I called Laura earlier today, she said Rosie had left her house on Monday night, and she hasn’t seen her since.”
“So she didn’t stay with Laura on Monday night?”
“No, and she didn’t stay with her last night.” Fina could hear panic rising in Renata’s voice.
“I assume you’ve tried calling her.”
“Of course. She’s not answering.”
“Did you contact the shelter?”
“I just spoke to one of her coworkers. She says that Rosie didn’t go to work Tuesday or today. She called in sick both days.”
Fina dug a speck of avocado from under her nail. “So she blew off work. Sounds like she’s playing hooky.”
“Where? I’ve been calling her all day, and her phone just goes to voice mail. None of her friends have heard from her.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“She hangs out with a guy from the animal shelter. That’s how she describes it, at least, but he says he hasn’t heard from her.”
“Renata, she’s seventeen years old and has a lot to deal with right now. She’s probably lying low with a friend, blowing off steam somewhere.”
“Maybe, but it looks bad.”
Fina looked at her reflection in the kitchen window. She looked good. Not a day over thirty. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it looks suspicious.”
“What are you getting at, Renata? Are you worried that Rosie killed Hank Reardon?”
“Of course not, but I’m worried the police will think that.”
“Have you spoken to the cops about this?”
“No, I didn’t want to draw attention to her absence.”
Fina walked back into the living room and perched on the arm of the couch. “What would you like me to do exactly?”
“Find her.”
Fina thought for a moment.
“I know I fired you, but you’re rehired,” Renata said.
“I’m not worried about that. We can figure that out later.” Carl wouldn’t like such a loosey-goosey work arrangement, but when it came to a missing kid, Fina could be flexible. “E-mail me a list of her friends, including the boyfriend, and include any addresses you have, not just cell and e-mail info.”
“Fine. I’ll do it now.”
“And we need to tell the cops. Aside from the benefit of their resources, not reporting a missing person looks extremely suspicious.”
“But they’ll read all sorts of things into it.”
“Of course they will; that’s what they do!”
“But she’s my child, and I have to protect her.”
Fina held the phone away from her ear and took a deep breath. Renata’s maternal instincts were wildly inconsistent. “I have to tell them. Just get me that list.”
Fina ended the call and sat back down on the couch. Milloy muted the TV, and she reached over and grabbed a handful of tortilla chips.
“Who’s missing now?”
“Rosie, Renata’s teenage daughter.”
“She one of the cryokids?”
“Yup. I think Renata’s more worried about the timing than her disappearance.” Fina popped some chips in her mouth. “She thinks it looks suspicious with Hank’s death.”
“You don’t?”
“Yeah, but she’s a teenager. You can’t read too much into their behavior. I think they should all be sent to an adolescent leper colony until their brains are fully developed.”
“That seems like an excellent strategy.” Milloy sipped his beer. “Do you need some help?”
“Nah, not yet.” Fina dipped her finger in the bowl of guacamole and ate it.
“That’s what chips are for, you know.”
“Milloy, we have biblical knowledge of each other. Are you seriously suggesting this is too intimate?”
“Not too intimate. Too gross.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek and grabbed her phone and bag. “Bye.”
Out on the street, she dialed Cristian’s number, and he graciously agreed to a drop-by.
• • •
Cristian was sitting on the front stoop of his building when Fina pulled up fifteen minutes later.
“Ah, okay. I guess you want to go for a drive,” she said as he climbed into the car.
“Just a quick errand,” he said.
“Okay. Where am I going?”
“Medford.”
Fina pulled into traffic. “Why?” She knew that Cristian’s ex, Marissa, lived there.
“Just drive. So what’s up?”
“Renata Sanchez called me because she can’t find her daughter Rosie. She’s one of Hank’s cryokids.”
“I know who she is. I’ve been sorting through that gnarled family tree all day.”
“Anywho . . . Rosie is MIA.”
“Why are
you
telling me this and not Renata?”
“She’s worried that Rosie’s disappearing act looks suspicious given the timing.”
“It does. Has she done this before? Taken off?”
“Not to my knowledge, but she’s seriously pissed at her mom right now.” They stopped at a light, and a car full of teenagers pulled up next to them. Music was blaring, and they were laughing.
“Do you think she might be in danger?” Cristian asked.
“I’m not too worried.”
“Well, you know the drill. File a report.”
“I will, but I wanted to let you know off the record. Don’t you guys want to interview her?”
“Yes, but we’ve had our hands full with the immediate family. Take a right up here.”
Cristian directed her to a neighborhood of small single-family houses. “It’s the white one, so drive by and find a spot.”
Fina followed his directions.
“Can you turn around so we can see the house?” Cristian asked.
“Yeah, yeah, Detective Bossy. What are we doing here?”
“Just checking things out.”
They sat in silence and studied the house. It was a Cape Cod with dormers in the sloping roof and a small yard in front. A light was on in the bay window of what Fina assumed was the living room. One of the upstairs windows was illuminated.
“So her boyfriend’s here,” Fina noted. “So what?”
“How do you know he’s here?” Cristian asked.
“That’s his car.” Fina pointed at a Toyota Camry parked in front of the house. “You asked me to run a background check. I’m a detective, too, you know.”
He ignored her.
“Cristian, this is borderline creepy.”
“I’m trying to figure out if he’s staying over.”
“How long have they been dating?” Fina looked at his handsome profile.
“Two months.”
“Of course he’s staying over. What do you think this is? Nineteen-fifty?”
“No, but not everyone is as horny as you are.”
“Is that a complaint? And I’m not horny. I’m results-oriented.”
“Well, Marissa isn’t like you.”
Fina leaned her head back against the headrest. “Just because she’s the mother of your child doesn’t make her a saint. She’s a grown woman. Let her have sex, already.”
“It’s part of our custody agreement. She’s not supposed to have people stay the night.”
“I thought you were over her.”
“I am.”
“Then why do you care who she sleeps with?”
“I don’t, but we’re talking about my kid.”
Fina looked at him. She knew that Cristian was motivated by his love for Matteo, but she also wondered if a tiny part of him was jealous of the new boyfriend.
“You need a hobby. Nothing good can come from this pursuit.”
Cristian watched the house. “Fine.”
Fina started the car and wound her way back through the residential streets. “Want to get a drink?”
“I can’t. I’ve gotta get some sleep and head back in to the station. There’s a lot of heat on us with the Reardon case.”