Barbara McMahon - Lies That Bind

“It’s been too long,” she said, smiling at her former classmate.

“I’ll say. Hold on, I’ll tell Sam you two are here. I have a break at eleven-thirty. Have lunch with me and we can catch up. Remember Lulu? She told me she heard you were back. Staying long?”

“Just a few weeks. I came because of Maddie.”

“How is she? I heard from Sam she was doing better.”

“She is.” April didn’t care to talk about her foster family around Jack, so she smiled brightly, promising to fill Marjorie in when they met for lunch.

“I’ll see if the sheriff is free,” Marjorie said, hurrying through the open door.

April eyed Jack. “You go first.”

For a moment, she thought she saw amusement in his eyes. “Afraid to say something in front of me? I’m not here to report Maraville’s news.”

“What I have to say doesn’t concern anyone but me.”

“You’re looking for help locating your parents,” he said.

“Lucky guess. Didn’t you suggest I try the sheriff?”

Marjorie came out of Sam’s office.

“He’s free. Come on in.”

Neither April nor Jack moved.

“After you,” she said.

“You go first,” he countered. “I’m here to help look for Jo, so I expect to be a while.”

That caught her by surprise. So he’d help out Eliza and Cade, but not her. Fine, she didn’t need his help!

Lifting her chin, she headed into the sheriff’s office, aware that Jack Palmer followed right behind her.

Sam glanced at April then Jack. “You two working together?” he asked.

“No,” April said quickly, frowning over her shoulder at Jack. She looked at Sam and smiled. “I was hoping to see you alone. But some people don’t seem to know when they’re barging in.”

Jack leaned against the door frame and said nothing.

“What can I do for you?” Sam asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“I’m hoping you can help me in a search of my own—for my birth parents.”

“Have a seat.”

Sam waited until April sat down before resuming his seat. He flicked another glance at Jack, who had moved beside one of the file cabinets, leaning against it so he could see April better.

“It’s personal,” she said, glaring at Jack.

“Which means she doesn’t want me here,” Jack explained.

“If you don’t mind, it is personal,” April insisted, wishing she could ignore the man. Or that Sam would kick him out.

“I’ll do what I can, but we don’t conduct family searches if no crimes have been committed,” Sam said slowly. “What do you have to go on?”

“Just my birth date. It’s from a delayed birth certificate—one I got when I first applied for a passport. No parents’ names, just Jane and John Doe.”

“The date may not be accurate,” Jack murmured.

“What?” April swung around. “You think that’s not my birth date?”

“If you were abandoned, it’s likely no one knew your birth date. They just estimated how old you were and assigned you the closest date.”

She blinked. She’d never thought of that. So even her birth date could be a dead end.

“Seems to me a hotshot like you could handle this before lunch,” Sam said to Jack. He looked at April. “You might try Social Services. They have the records of your particular case.”

The phone on the desk rang. Sam picked it up. From the one-sided conversation, April knew he had to go somewhere—fast. He stood even as he was talking, and reached for his hat on the hatrack behind him.

“Sorry, I have to leave,” he said as soon as he hung up. “Jack, take care of April, will you? And here’s a copy of all I have on Jo.” He thrust a slim folder at Jack. In a second he was gone.

April could hear him give rapid instructions to Marjorie as he left. A moment later there was only silence.

JACK TOSSED the folder on the desk. The slap it made startled April. Rising, she turned to the door.

“All right, I’ll see what I can do to get you started,” he said. It was clear the news about her birth date had hit her hard.

She studied him for a moment. Jack could tell she didn’t like what she saw. He’d been acting like an ass and wouldn’t blame her if she wanted nothing to do with him. But he was a good bet for finding information about her past. And maybe she’d remember something about Jo that he could check out for Sam.

“Don’t do me any favors.”

“Hey, I’m doing it for Sam.”

She was quiet a moment, then rose.

“Thank you,” April said primly.

He knew she didn’t want to accept his offer. She must want to find her parents badly to put aside her animosity and agree to his help.

“Let’s get a cup of coffee, start over and see where we begin the great parent search,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. He grabbed the folder and headed for the door.

A few moments later they were seated in a quiet corner of Ruby’s Café, Jo’s folder in front of Jack. Coffee had been ordered. He glanced around the room.

“People are staring,” April said, her eyes on the folder.

“You’re a beautiful woman. They probably like looking at you.” He would, if he didn’t feel she was the type to trade on her looks. There was a certain something about her—an air of vulnerability—that had him looking despite his efforts not to.

When the coffee arrived, Jack pulled out a small notebook and tiny pencil. He never went anywhere without it.

“Do we start with Jo?” she asked, looking at the notebook.

“No, I’ll check out the folder later. See what Sam’s done. Between his searches and the detective Maddie hired, I bet they’ve covered all bases. You and Eliza can help by reminiscing to see if you can remember anywhere Jo really wanted to see. Sometimes when life gets too hard, people will bolt for a special place—even if they’ve never been there—in hopes it’ll prove to be the one place on earth that’s right for them.”

“New Orleans was the only place we ever talked about. We couldn’t wait to get there when we were teenagers.”

“Yet neither you nor Eliza settled there after leaving school.”

“True. Do you think there’s a chance Jo did?”

“Sam said he checked the neighboring states. Dead end.”

April sipped her coffee, studying Jack.

“Tell me all the facts you know about yourself,” he said.

“Maddie told me I was abandoned and she stepped in to act as foster mother. I was born twenty-seven years ago on May seventeenth. At least I always thought I was, until you put that doubt in my head.”

“You have a birth certificate, you said.”

She nodded. “A delayed registration they called it. I can dig it up if you need to see it. It doesn’t give much information beyond my date of birth. No parents listed.”

“Born where?”

“The certificate says Maraville.”

He tossed his pencil down. “Too easy. If you were born here in town, we’d be able to locate your parents in no time. Even if the day is wrong, the month has to be close. We could check all live births from April through June of that year and see who’s unaccounted for. Are you sure you were born here?”

“No. I told you it was a delayed birth certificate. Filled out when I was nineteen. Social Services filed it when I needed one for a passport.”

“First stop, then, Social Services.”

“I tried to get them to help me when I was a teenager here,” she said. She took another sip of her coffee. “Dead end.”

For a moment he saw that vulnerability again. It bothered him, since it didn’t fit the mold he’d assigned her. Maybe he needed to do some more digging around to find out exactly who April Jeffries was.

“First of all, I doubt they’d talk to a minor.”