Meghan Carver - Deadly Disclosure

After law school, it would be back to her parents’ mansion and the life of a spinster, pro bono attorney. At least she could practice law, after a fashion. She and her father had reached a truce, and she was determined to keep her end of it for the sake of her family. But for now, this was her freedom. “I’m not quite sure how to approach this, but you need to know. Derek is here to protect me. It seems the FBI is investigating a crime family with which they think I have some connection.”

Mallory’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but otherwise she maintained a neutral lawyer’s expression.

Hannah clutched her skirt more tightly. “It turns out that I’m adopted. At least, that’s what they say. Derek says my birth father is with the Mafia, and he’s looking for me.” She let out a long breath, which she’d been holding, seemingly since Derek had broken the news.

“Wow. That’s some big news.” Mallory leaned forward and laid a hand on Hannah’s forearm. “Why does the FBI believe you’re adopted?”

“Details of my birth. Adoption records. Derek’s just recently become involved.” She raced through a dozen different memories from her childhood, but no clue emerged about her adoption. “I have my birth certificate, and Father and Mother are listed as my parents, but I can’t say I’ve ever read it thoroughly.”

“Your birth certificate wouldn’t show that you were adopted, except for the discrepancy in the dates. Your parents would have a court-issued decree that finalized the adoption.”

Hannah furrowed her brow. “What do you mean by a discrepancy in the dates?”

“The firm has copies of your birth certificate and your driver’s license in your personnel folder from when you began employment here. I can pull it up if you’d like.” Mallory returned to her desk and her computer. Soon, a printer on her credenza was spitting out a copy of Hannah’s birth certificate, which her boss handed over.

Hannah stared at the dates but had no idea what she was looking for. Her heart thumped, but she didn’t move so she wouldn’t betray her anxiety. “What should I see here?”

Mallory leaned over the desk. “Your birth certificate has definitely been amended. See? Here is your birth date.” She moved her finger down the paper. “And here is the issue date. It’s over a year later. There’s no reason for it to be any more than a month or two after the fact unless the time was needed to finalize an adoption.”

The pounding of Hannah’s heart moved to her head until the edge of the room turned fuzzy. “So, it could be true. My birth certificate proves it.” Tacky sweat inched through her blouse and the fuzziness stood at the edge of her vision, threatening to consume her.

“Whatever is going on, it’ll be fine. Trust in the Lord to reveal whatever you need to know when you need to know it. And from the looks of it you have a valiant protector in Derek.” Mallory’s lowered tone fought through the haze. “It doesn’t change who your parents are or who you are.”

Hannah gulped in breaths that didn’t seem to reach her lungs. The fuzziness marched in on her like a swarm of grasshoppers. Through the haze, she saw Mallory come back around the desk and sit in the other client chair. Her warm hand covered Hannah’s, her smooth, reassuring touch a rhythmic call back to the present.

“I need to talk to my mother.” She forced a strong tone, one she didn’t feel but desperately needed to push away the dark cloud that threatened to envelop her. “And my father.” Oh, her father. What would he have to say about this?

“Yes. Talk to them. And at some point, you may want to search for your birth mother.” Compassion flooded Mallory’s voice, and Hannah appreciated her delicacy. “But I want to warn you. If you do search, you may not be happy with what you find. Or you may not find anything at all. We don’t know how much the FBI knows about her past, her circumstances or even her location.”

The surrealistic nature of those options settled on her shoulders like a heavy cloak, and Hannah couldn’t force out an answer.

Mallory patted her hand. “Talking to your parents is a good place to start. But whatever news they may have, if any at all—” she paused for emphasis “—try to stay calm. Now, I will help you in any way I can if this turns out to be true. I’m willing to talk anytime, and now you have my personal phone number.” She scribbled on the back of a business card and pressed it into Hannah’s hand. “Go now, if you feel you need to, and the job is here whenever. A lot has happened, so take whatever time you need.”

After flashing her boss a grateful look, Hannah focused on the seven digits on the card until she could stand steady. “What a day.” Her stomach flip-flopped. Her parents had some explaining to do. She knew what her next move was—to get some answers and, hopefully, to stay safe.

* * *

“Are you two all right?”

Derek accepted the firm handshake of his old pal Reid Palmer. “We’re fine. Thanks for your help down there.”

“No problem. You’ve got a lot going on.”

“Yes, but not as much as Hannah. She just found out she’s adopted, her birth father is a Mafia boss and I’m the one who had to tell her.” He crossed his arms over his chest and touched his fingers to the thumb break on his shoulder holster. “Hannah’s really shaken up, understandably so. But she’s resilient. Tougher than she used to be. She’s going to need to be, with the danger she’s in.”

From his vantage point down the hallway, Derek saw the door to Mallory’s office swing open. But no one emerged.

He hadn’t let down his guard since the attack less than an hour ago, despite the fact that he saw the shooter speed away. But surely they were safe up here. There were only two doors to the suite of offices. The back door was locked, and Derek and Reid stood within view of the front door. No one had come or gone.

He moved to the window at the end of the hallway that overlooked the parking lot. The truck had not returned. But the office only faced out one side of the building, so he had no way to check all entrances and side streets. Wherever Hannah thought she was going next, Derek would not leave her side.

Voices filtered down the hallway, but he couldn’t make out any words. He nodded toward the open door. “What do you make of that?”

Reid shrugged. “They’re almost done.” Apparently, his friend wasn’t on alert, despite his own little difficulty a year or so ago with his wife, Samantha. At the time she had been on the run from a thug who had tried to kidnap her adopted daughter, Lily, and had crashed into Reid’s car. The end result was a harrowing two days and eventually their wedding. “Congrats on your graduation from the FBI academy, by the way. You were one of the best officers on the Heartwood Hill PD to work with, but sometimes we move on to other things. This your first assignment?”

“Yes. Quite a start, don’t you think?”

Reid raised his eyebrows. “Is there a history here? With Hannah?”

“Yes.” Derek jammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s why I’m here. My supervising agent thought it best if the FBI sent someone Hannah knows. What they don’t know are the details of our past.”

“And?”

“We dated secretly in high school our senior year. Her family is super wealthy and upper class. My aunt and uncle were most definitely not upper class. We knew her parents would never approve, so we kept it a secret. Nearly every Friday night, we would go to the library to study. She just didn’t tell her parents that she was with me. We would drive in to the Indianapolis library, where no one knew us except the librarians, and they didn’t care.” Images of a seventeen-year-old Hannah contrasted in his thoughts with the Hannah he had rescued today. She had only grown more beautiful. More compelling.