Mariah Stewart - Acts of Mercy

“Your wife is deceased?”

“Yes, she died in the car crash. Didn’t you hear about it?”

Duffy shrugged.

“Am I under arrest?” Robert asked. He’d tried to be patient, had tried to tell himself that the police were only being cautious. After all, a strange car parked in a quiet neighborhood-he and Suse and Kevin could have been up to no good.

Before he could answer, the door opened and another officer gestured to Duffy to step outside. A few minutes later, he came back in and said, “Your story checked. You’re free to go.”

“Just like that?”

The officer nodded.

“But what about my son?”

“You’re going to have to talk to the chief about that.” Duffy walked out of the room and Robert followed.

In the hall, he met Susanna, and Kevin, who’d watched from Carole Woolum’s screened porch when the police drove off with the others. He arrived at the station, and discovering that Robert and Susanna had been brought in for questioning, put a call in to Luke Parrish, who’d sounded out of breath when he answered his phone.

“I’m a little tied up right now,” Luke had told him, “but give me the name and number of the chief there, and I’ll have someone get right back to him.”

Ten minutes later, John Mancini called Chief Craig Collier and confirmed that the FBI had an open investigation into the kidnapping of Robert Magellan’s son.

“Which still doesn’t explain why you were watching Carole Woolum’s house.” Collier sat on the edge of the desk in his office, facing Robert, Susanna, and Kevin, who sat on folding chairs.

“We believe that Carole Woolum is the person who took Ian Magellan from the car after the accident, and has been passing him off as her own child,” Kevin told him.

“What proof do you have?” The chief was obviously skeptical.

“There is a cabin in the woods near the crash site. She was one of several former nuns from a convent in the area who had used it,” Kevin began. Robert thought having the priest relate the tale might make it more credible, so he sat back and let his cousin speak for him.

“Have you confirmed that this woman was there at the time of this accident?” the chief asked.

“According to the owner, no one was supposed to have been in the cabin at that time.” Kevin knew their theory would sound thin, but he also strongly believed it was sound. “But all indications are that someone had been there with Mr. Magellan’s baby. A button-a hand-painted button from a sweater that had been made for Ian-was found in the cabin.”

“Which proves only that the child was there, not that Ms. Woolum was with him, or that she had anything to do with taking him there.”

“Mother Superior at the convent gave us the names and addresses of the former sisters who had used the cabin. Ms. Woolum was one of them.”

“Still proves nothing.”

“There were five former nuns on the list. We’ve been able to rule out two of them already today.”

“Again, Father…” Collier was losing patience, and interest. “None of this means anything.”

“The child is the right age. The right coloring.” Kevin paused. “And he has a mark on his right cheek, right below his eye, shaped like a tiny hourglass.”

Robert spun around in his chair to stare at Kevin.

“You’re sure? Kevin, you’re absolutely positive?” Robert grabbed his cousin by the arm.

“There’s no mistake, Rob. The mark is there. I saw it very clearly.”

“That’s it, then.” Robert stood, his hands on his hips, and addressed the chief. “So do I call the FBI in, or can you handle this yourself from here?”

“First of all, we have nothing but your say-so that this boy has a mark like the one your boy had-we don’t even have any proof that your boy had a mark. You’re going to need to prove that. Then we’re going to have to make a positive ID. We’ll want to see the birth certificate,” Collier explained.

Robert speed-dialed home. “Trula, I need you to fax”-he paused-“no, email’s clearer, isn’t it?” he asked the chief.

“Sometimes.” The chief nodded.

“Trula, I’m going to need you to fax and email a copy of Ian’s birth certificate. And pictures that clearly show the birthmark on his cheek.” He thought for a moment, then told Trula to hold on. To the chief, he said, “Will fingerprints do it?”

“They’d sure help if they matched. Ms. Woolum would have a lot of explaining to do.”

Robert went back to the call. “Okay, Trula, this part might be trickier. I need something with his fingerprints on it. Maybe those plastic keys he used to like to play with…” He paused. “What? Seriously? Yes, fax them right now! Then scan them into the computer along with the photos and… you don’t know how to scan? Ask Mallory to do it, but do it right now. Please.”

“You are one determined fellow.” Collier handed Robert one of his cards, with both email and fax information.

Robert passed the information on to Trula, then hung up.

“We have his fingerprints,” he told the chief. “Trula, God bless her, had Ian printed at one of those health fairs in Conroy when he was two months old. She said she put them in a drawer and pretty much forgot about them. She’s sending them over.”

“You didn’t tell her that we may have found him,” Susanna said.

“She’s already figured that out. I just want to bring him home, and let her see for herself,” Robert told her.

Within minutes, the items Robert had requested arrived. The chief looked over the birth certificate-“You know we’ll need to see the original if we go further with this,” he’d said-and the photos. He glanced at the fingerprints.

“These aren’t going to prove diddly without something to compare them with,” he told Robert.

“That’s where you come in, chief,” Robert replied.

Collier nodded and went into the hall and called for Officer Duffy. “I want you to come with me to Carole Woolum’s house. There are some questions I need her to answer.”

He turned to Robert and said, “I’ll be getting back to you.”

“I’d rather come with you.”

“Not gonna happen, son.”

“Then we’ll wait here, if that’s okay with you.”

“Suit yourself. You can wait in the lobby.” Collier tapped Duffy on the shoulder and said, “Let’s do this.” When he got to the doorway, he turned and said, “There’s a coffee shop across the street. You might as well go on over and grab yourself something to eat. This might take a while…”

It took two hours for Collier to return to the station. From the coffee shop window, Kevin spotted the cruiser. Chief Collier drove, Duffy sat shotgun, and someone sat in the back seat.

Robert shot out the door, followed by Kevin. Susanna stayed long enough to pay the check before dashing across the street. Collier saw the threesome come through the front door and held up his hand.

“Uh-uh. We’re going to go by the book here, folks. Ms. Woolum insists that that boy is her son, Matthew.”

“Why’d you bring her in?” Susanna asked.

“She couldn’t produce a birth certificate. First she said she’d lost it. Then she said it was in a safe-deposit box at the bank. When I offered to accompany her to get it, she said the bank was in San Diego.” Collier shook his head. “It’s not sitting right with me.”

“We have his prints,” Robert reminded him. “Check his prints.”

“She won’t permit him to be printed.”

“Where is he?” Robert asked.

“In the back room, and no, you can’t go in. I told her she was welcome to have her lawyer join us, but she said she doesn’t have one and doesn’t need one.” The chief looked like he was about to say something, then decided against it. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her.”