Later that evening Sandy received a telephone call at home from an unfamiliar number.
“Sandy, this is Mimi Randolph. I talked to my boyfriend about Emilio. He couldn’t find an arrest warrant for anyone with that name, but he talked to some of his contacts in the Hispanic community. Several people knew a man named Emilio. No one liked him.”
“That’s probably him.”
“You didn’t tell me this man’s link to Maria,” Mimi said, “but is he the father—”
“I can’t say,” Sandy replied quickly.
“You don’t have to. But Ted said if Emilio raped Maria, then she’s the one who has to take action against him.”
Mimi’s intuition was sharp.
“I’ll let her know.”
After the call ended, Sandy tried to reach Maria, but the girl didn’t answer the phone. Sandy felt frustrated. If Maria wasn’t going to be available, the cell phone was a waste of money. Fifteen minutes later, Sandy’s phone beeped. It was Maria.
“Why didn’t you answer earlier?” Sandy asked.
“I was with my father and waited until I came to Rosalita’s trailer to call you. It’s better if we talk while I’m here.”
“Okay. It just makes me worry when I can’t reach you.”
Sandy told Maria about her conversation with Ms. Randolph and the information obtained from the teacher’s boyfriend.
“Would I have to go to the police station?” Maria asked. “I’m too scared to do that.”
“Or an officer could meet with you somewhere else. That’s what Ms. Ramsey was trying to set up a few weeks ago.”
The phone was silent for a moment.
“I know my father would say no. He told me that every time I talk to someone, I make a bigger problem for myself and my family.”
“Please think about it. I’d go with you to the police station if you want me to.”
“I’m not sure.”
Sandy then told her about the text message from Jeremy.
“This means you’re going to have to do some talking on Monday,” Sandy said. “I’ll try to get more details from Jeremy and let you know.”
“Jeremy?”
“Mr. Lane, the lawyer. I’m going to see him on Sunday.”
“I don’t want to talk to the lawyer from Atlanta. I won’t understand what he says.”
“A translator will be there.”
“That won’t help. Mr. Lane uses big words I haven’t learned, but I have you there to explain them to me. And he’s trying to help me. This man wants to hurt me.”
It was a simple but accurate description of Dusty Abernathy’s job.
“I’ll tell Mr. Lane to make sure you understand the questions,” Sandy said. “Don’t worry. He’ll take care of you.”
Friday night at the football game Sandy was buying a drink at the concession stand. A crowd was milling around in front of the booth. When she turned around, she bumped into Brian Winston, the school board’s attorney. Their eyes met.
“Ms. Lincoln, please have your lawyer get in touch with me,” Winston sputtered.
“Okay.”
Winston moved away, knocking a woman off balance. The press of the crowd kept her from falling.
“Watch it!” the woman called out as Winston continued through the crowd.
Sandy returned to the sidelines. She’d told Maria to trust Jeremy and not worry. Now she was going to have to take her own advice.
The Rutland team was driving the ball steadily down the field. Someone touched Sandy on the arm. It was Jessica.
“What’s the latest news about your thirty-three-year-old baby?” Jessica asked.
“More than I can squeeze into a few minutes.”
“I’ll take anything you can give me.”
“I told him,” Sandy said.
Jessica screamed, and several of the cheerleaders turned around. Sandy told Jessica about the meeting at Ben’s office.
“I have goose bumps on top of goose bumps,” Jessica replied, rubbing her arms.
Sandy started to mention Leanne but suddenly changed her mind.
“There’s a big problem,” Sandy said. “I’m afraid Jeremy has met his brother.”
“What?” Jessica said in a loud voice that was fortunately drowned out by a roar from the stands as the Rutland quarterback completed a pass.
As Sandy told her about Dusty Abernathy, Jessica’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, and Dusty denies being adopted,” Sandy said. “But I wish you could see him. He has some of Brad’s mannerisms.”
“A mother’s intuition is better than a lie detector test.” Jessica reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper. “Tell me Dusty’s full name again. I’ll get online at home, find his picture, and let you know what I think.”
Jessica scribbled down the information.
“Did you say anything to Jeremy about the old woman at the gas station?”
“No, he would really think I’m loony. He already believes I was imagining the similarity between Dusty and Brad Donnelly.”
“How would he know anything about Brad?”
“I showed him some photos from our high school yearbook.”
“Oh.” Jessica paused. “If you let him look at my senior picture, there’s no way he’ll recognize me now.”
At that moment, Rutland scored a touchdown. The cheerleaders sprang into action.
“Not a word about this to anyone,” Sandy said into Jessica’s ear.
Jessica raised her right index finger to her lips and nodded her head.
The game ended in a Rutland High School victory. Sandy turned down an invitation to go out with a group of students. At home, she logged on to the website for Jenkins and Lyons. She was reading about the firm when Jessica called.
“What is Jeremy thinking?” she said. “Dusty has Brad’s eyes. Grab the yearbook for our senior year and turn to page thirty-four.”
Sandy flipped open the yearbook. It was a candid photo of Brad standing in front of the school with a few of his friends. The way Brad stood, the shape of his head, and the expression on his face all looked very similar to Dusty Abernathy.
“Yeah,” she said. “You’re right. But for some reason, Jeremy didn’t see it.”
“You’re going to have to tell him,” Jessica replied.
“I already tried.”
“Try again. And both of us should keep digging into Dusty’s background to see what turns up. Did you know he’s been married twice?”
“I think I read he was divorced.”
“And he doesn’t have any children. He has a younger sister who lives with her husband in Washington, D.C.”
“How did you find out about that?”
“One of the genealogy groups I belong to. Family researchers post data about people that ends up in public forums.”
“Do you know his sister’s name?”
“Lydia Abernathy Duncan. I have her address and phone number.”
“You got that from a genealogy site?”
“No, once I had her name, I used an address finder. Do you want to call her?”
Sandy paused. “Give it to me, but I doubt I’ll contact her. What would I say? ‘I recently met your brother, who claims he’s not adopted, but I think he’s my son.’ She’d report me to the police as a cyberstalker.”
Sandy jotted down the address and phone number.
“I’ll keep digging,” Jessica said. “You have to be a member of the genealogy group to access the information I found, but I’ll print out copies of his family tree for you. His paternal grandfather was an actor who appeared in several films. I found a publicity picture, and Dusty doesn’t look anything like him.”
Sunday morning Sandy drove to the church in Tryon. She sat down beside Deb Bridges.
“Great to see you,” Deb said, then leaned in closer. “I’m sorry the hearing in Atlanta had to be rescheduled. I know that’s a big strain on you.”
“Yeah. The judge wants to hear from Maria.”
“Which makes sense to me.” Deb reached into her purse and took out a breath mint. “Do you want one?”
“No, thanks.”
“Jeremy likes the lawyer on the other side of the case.”
“I know. We ate lunch together after the hearing.”
“I bet that was awkward.”
“Yes, but Jeremy is pretty strong-willed.”
“Tell me about it.” Deb made a face.
Sandy glanced over her shoulder and saw Jeremy and Leanne come in. Jeremy saw her and waved. He nudged Leanne, who smiled in greeting.
Sandy relaxed and enjoyed the service. After it was over, she and Deb made their way outside and found Jeremy and Leanne.
“Hey, Sandy,” a male voice said when Sandy and Deb parted.
It was John Bestwick. He didn’t know Jeremy and Leanne, so Sandy introduced them.
“Jeremy is my lawyer,” Sandy said to John. “When I use the scanner in your office, I’m sending papers to him.”
“I’d do anything I could to help Sandy,” John said. “She’s one of the best teachers in the school.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jeremy said.
After another minute of small talk, John moved on. Leanne leaned in to Sandy.
“I like him,” Leanne said.
“If anyone wants to date my mother, they’ll need my permission to do it,” Jeremy cut in jokingly.
“He’s a good man,” Sandy said. “But I haven’t had a date in years.”
“Come on,” Leanne said, touching Sandy’s arm. “You’ve got a date with a couple of kids.”
“I thought we were going to wait until Jeremy talked to his mom in Charleston.”
“We are waiting as far as telling them who you are,” Jeremy replied. “I’ll introduce you as a teacher who I know.”
“Are you sure?” Sandy asked. “Won’t they feel lied to when they find out the truth later?”
“If you don’t want to—” Jeremy began.
“No,” Sandy said. “There’s nothing I want more in the world than to see them.”
“Zach won’t care about finding out in stages,” Leanne answered. “Chloe will think it’s great once I suggest it’s like something from a book.”
“She likes the imaginary world?”
Leanne rolled her eyes. “Big time.”
“When I was her age, I had an elaborate fantasy life,” Sandy said. “I even invited my best friend Jessica to join me there.”
Leanne looked at Jeremy. “It’s a relief to know where Chloe gets it.”
“You still have an active imaginary life,” Jeremy said. “Your imagination was in high gear at lunch in Atlanta the other day.”
“No.” Sandy shook her head. “That thought came from who I saw sitting in front of me.”
“What are you talking about?” Leanne asked Jeremy.
“I’ll let Sandy tell you later if she wants to.”
They walked over to the children’s church area that was in a one-story building. The hallway was filled with parents and children. They went to a large open room. Sandy saw Chloe sitting on the carpeted floor talking to three other girls. Zach, his arm still in a sling, was chasing another little boy.
“Zach!” Leanne called out. “Slow down!”
The little boy scampered over to them. To Sandy his approach was like a cup of water in a desert place. She drank him in.
“Zach, this is Ms. Lincoln,” Jeremy said. “She’s a schoolteacher.”
The little boy’s face had the combination of exuberance and innocence that only a child can display. Sandy leaned over.
“Hi, Zach,” she said.
Zach moved a step closer to his mother and touched her leg.
“Hey,” he replied.
Chloe approached with athletic grace that wasn’t typical for a girl her age. When Jeremy introduced them, Sandy extended her hand, and Chloe shook it decisively.
“I understand you like to read,” Sandy said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What are some of your favorite books?”
As they walked away from the room, Chloe mentioned two titles, both familiar to Sandy, who then commented on each one.
“Are you a librarian?” Chloe asked.
“No,” Sandy said and smiled. “I teach English at the high school in Rutland, but I’ve always loved to read.”
Sandy and Chloe continued to talk about books as they walked.
“Have you read that series?” Sandy asked the girl.
“No.”
“I think you’d like them. I’ll bring the first one next Sunday for you to try.”
Chloe rewarded Sandy with a smile that melted her heart. The girl looked so much like Sandy at the same age. The group reached the parking lot.
“Oh,” Jeremy said to Sandy. “I almost forgot. We’re meeting with Maria tomorrow afternoon at four. She needs to get together with me forty-five minutes early so I can prepare her.”
“Where?”
“The conference room at the courthouse we used the other day. Can you let Maria know to be there?”
“Yes. Do you want me to come?”
“No, you’d better not. Dusty is going to use the translator who helped me the other day. She did a good job, and if we end up taking a deposition, the translator will need to be licensed and certified.”
“What about Maria’s father?”
“That’s up to him, but if he tries to keep Maria from talking to Dusty, it means we have to drag her to Atlanta for the hearing in front of Judge Tompkins on Wednesday. Sooner or later, she’s going to have to speak for herself and make it stick. The simplest way to take care of that will be for Dusty to see she’s clearly competent and capable of making up her own mind about the pregnancy.”
“I’m hungry,” Zach said.
“Please let me know that Maria will be there,” Jeremy said as he unlocked the van and the children hopped inside.
“Okay.”
Jeremy opened the driver’s-side door, then turned around, leaned over, and kissed Sandy on the cheek.
“Thanks,” he said. “I enjoyed seeing you with the kids.”
From the middle seat of the van, Sandy heard Chloe ask her mother a question.
“Why did Daddy kiss the teacher?”
The door closed before Sandy could hear Leanne’s response. As Jeremy backed out of the parking space, Chloe was inspecting Sandy closely from the window beside her seat. Sandy waved, and the girl slowly lifted her hand in response.
During the return trip to Rutland, Sandy called Maria and told her about the meeting on Monday.
“Will you be able to get there?” Sandy asked.
“Yes. One of the girls has to go to the dentist, so Rosalita is getting off work early.”
Upon arriving at home, Sandy received a phone call from Jessica.
“Get on your computer again,” her friend said brusquely.
“I just took a bite of my sandwich,” Sandy said, her mouth half full.
“You can chew while I tell you what to do.”
Sandy went into the craft room and turned on her computer.
“What is this about?” she asked after she swallowed.
Jessica rattled off the address of a website.
“Slow down,” Sandy said.
Jessica repeated the information. In a few seconds, a picture of a young woman with dark hair began to appear on Sandy’s screen.
“Is the picture up?” Jessica asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s Lydia Abernathy Duncan,” Jessica said. “Do you think she looks like Dusty?”
“No.”
“The next photo is of Lydia and Dusty with their father. Press the arrow at the bottom corner of the screen.”
Sandy brought up the image. The elder Abernathy had white hair; however, there was no question Lydia was his natural daughter.
“She looks like her daddy,” Sandy said. “What is this site?”
“Lydia is an amateur photographer who posts photos on the web. I took you directly to a picture she took of herself. Do you see the box that says ‘My Family’?”
“Yes.”
“Click it.”
Sandy moved her curser to the spot. A narrative blog post opened. She started reading it.
“Are you there?” Jessica asked.
“Yes. Skip all the stuff about the trip to San Francisco and go to the paragraph at the bottom that talks about Dusty’s birthday party.”
Sandy scrolled down the page to a sentence that read, We got together at a gorgeous spot on the Chesapeake Bay to celebrate Dusty’s birthday on April 5. Click here for pics of the festivities. Warning! No amount of Photoshop editing could remove some of the blurry eyes caused by a killer punch bowl.
“April 5,” Sandy said numbly.
“You were right,” Jessica said. “The personal info about Dusty on the law firm website is incorrect.”
Sandy was speechless.
“What am I going to do?” she managed after a few seconds passed.
“Did you keep the phone number and address I gave you for Lydia?”
“Yes.”
“Either call her or have a much more specific talk with Jeremy.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then I will,” Jessica responded.
“You’ll do what?”
“Contact Lydia. She won’t know who I am, and I won’t mention your name. I’ll ask her if her brother was adopted. If she hangs up on me, then we’re at a dead end. If she says yes and listens, then I’ll tell her I know the woman who is probably his mother.”
“That sounds crazy.”
“But it’s the truth.”
Sandy hesitated. “No matter what she says, you won’t mention my name.”
“Right.”
“Are you going to tell her your name? If you do, Dusty will connect you with me.”
“I’ll try not to unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“It’s courageous of you to offer.” Sandy sighed. “But I don’t want to upset the Abernathy family if they want to maintain the status quo. I had the same fear about Jeremy.”
“And how did that turn out?”
“Wonderful so far, but his mother doesn’t know about me yet.”
“From what you’ve told me about her, she’ll handle it with class. I know you will. If you don’t try to find out the truth about Dusty, you’ll always—”
“Okay, do it,” Sandy interrupted with surprising firmness. “Make the call to Lydia.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You’re right. Everyone deserves the chance to know who they are.”
“I didn’t say it that way, but I agree with you. I’ll phone her as soon as we hang up and before I lose my nerve.”
“Then you’ll call me back.”
“Yes, Sandy,” Jessica replied patiently. “I’m doing this for you.”
“I know, I know. Thanks.”
Jessica hung up. Sandy nervously wrung her hands. She returned to the kitchen. Nelson was taking a nap on his bed in the corner. No longer hungry, Sandy threw the rest of her sandwich into the garbage and began pacing back and forth across the room.