Aimee Thurlo - Fatal Charm

“Maybe the birth father is behind this scam, or at least in league with the people responsible. Somebody obviously talked to the woman who called.”

“Maybe. First things first, though. Get hold of your friend and have her search the computers. See if the adoption record is still there. I have to know if it’s just a bluff.”

Bernice glanced at her watch. “I may still catch her. She usually works late. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Amanda sat down to wait, then, on impulse, decided to call Ron. She’d need to know if he’d told anyone about the adoption, and also to find out all she could about Hope’s birth father. It would definitely be tricky. She couldn’t afford to tip her hand. If Ron knew the whole story, it was possible he would insist on getting involved. Yet she knew he’d be doing it out of pride—not love for his daughter—and that meant he would be willing to take the kind of risks she’d never condone. He’d likely complicate things rather than solve them.

Gathering her courage, she dialed her ex-husband’s office. Katrina, his longtime paralegal assistant and secretary, answered the phone.

“Hello, Katrina? This is Amanda. I’d like to speak to Ron, please. It’s important.”

“He’s with a client, Amanda. I’ll take your number and have Mr. Vila return your call.” Katrina was cold and excessively polite, as she had been ever since the divorce. She made it a point to be difficult whenever Amanda called. Katrina was undoubtedly acting on Ron’s instructions.

“Sorry, Katrina, this can’t wait. Tell Ron it’s about Hope, but it doesn’t concern his money or his time. That should put his mind at ease.” Amanda couldn’t understand why Katrina was so loyal to Ron. It certainly wasn’t because of a romantic attachment. In two years of marriage, Ron had proven to be the most unemotional man Amanda had ever known.

Katrina put her on hold without another word. After five minutes, just when Amanda was getting really angry, Ron picked up the line. As usual, Ron seemed more annoyed than pleased to hear from her. After a curt greeting, he urged her to get to the point.

“I need to get in touch with your sister,” Amanda said, “but I don’t have her telephone number.”

“Why do you want to talk to Louise?”

“Hope has a little friend who’s adopted, so Hope is now filled with questions of her own. I thought this was the perfect time to start introducing Hope to the idea that she’s adopted, too. But I don’t want to do it if there are still problems with her birth father.”

“Louise hasn’t heard from that guy in years. In fact, last Christmas when I saw her, she said he’d moved to Mexico. Louise is married now, so don’t go calling her and dredging up the past. Her husband doesn’t know about the baby. Besides, don’t you remember that you and I agreed not to tell anyone Hope was adopted? Try to keep your word for the sake of my sister, and leave me out of it, too. I’ve got important work to do.”

She heard a click, then a dial tone. Some things never changed. To Ron, Hope had never ceased to be a reminder of his inability to father a child. Frustration and anger rippled through her, making her insides tie into a knot.

When Bernice finally came into Amanda’s office twenty minutes later, Amanda scarcely dared to breathe as she waited for the news.

“There’s no record of the adoption,” Bernice said in a muted voice. “Everyone was gone, so Jenny was able to access several different data banks. She checked everything she could think of, but the adoption records are just not there. They must have been erased somehow.”

Amanda felt the blood draining from her face. “Then it’s not a bluff. They’ve tampered with the state records.”

“So what now?”

“I call Tony, pass on their demands, and keep quiet about the rest. For now, that’s the only thing I can do. I don’t want to risk losing my daughter, even if it would only be for a while.”

“You’re a fighter, Amanda. You won’t be able to stand this for long. When your patience runs out, what will you do?”

“I’m not sure, but I do know I can’t just sit back and trust this caller to keep her end of the bargain. I’ll need some leverage of my own sooner or later.”

Amanda managed to keep her hands from shaking as she finished dialing. To her disappointment, she only reached Tony’s answering machine. Frustrated, she decided to leave a sketchy message and wait to give him the details later. They were in this together now, though for different reasons; allies, yet not.

As she finished speaking to the machine, she considered giving him her unlisted home number, but then decided against it. She didn’t want him calling her at home, possibly frightening Hope. “I’ll call again later so we can discuss this at length,” she added.

Bernice watched her. “You’ve got to talk to someone...the cops or a lawyer. You can’t handle this by yourself.”

“I can’t go to anyone yet. And you can’t say anything, either. Promise me. I’ve got to have something on these people in order to safeguard Hope and myself. The only way I can get that is to play along for now.”

“I understand, but—”

“No, no buts. This is the way it’s got to be.”

Bernice nodded. “I’ll do everything I can to help you. I don’t know how much good I’ll be, but you won’t go through this alone.”

Amanda toyed with a pencil on her desk, trying frantically to get a handle on the situation. “Wait a second. Did you tell me the caller knew I was here?”

“That’s what she told me.”

“How could she know that—unless she’s watching?” Amanda walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside to glance up and down the street. Finally she allowed the curtain to fall back into place. “There are cars parked all the way down the street as usual, but I didn’t see anyone sitting inside one.”

“Maybe they know your car.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m going outside to take a look around. I don’t want to leave here with Hope and have someone follow me home.”

“I’m going with you.”

Amanda nodded then changed her mind. “Maybe I’m overreacting, but I’d rather you stayed here on guard. I don’t want to take any chances with the children.”

As she walked out of the building, she looked around cautiously. There were plenty of people just getting off work. She’d be safe.

The narrow cobblestoned streets adjacent to the Santa Fe Plaza made it difficult for anyone to hide. She passed a mural of Saint Francis of Assisi painted on the crumbling wall of an old adobe building. The saint’s ability to talk to the animals was a link between Pueblo beliefs and the modern-day Santa Fe natives, who saw their city as one in perfect harmony with nature. Trouble of any kind here seemed impossible, but the facts were inescapable.

As she headed back, Amanda noticed an off-white sedan parked in the shadows of a narrow alleyway. From there, the driver would have a clear view of the day-care center. Amanda allowed herself a furtive glance. There was definitely someone in the car, but the driver’s face was masked by long, sculpted shadows that made it impossible to distinguish facial features.

Amanda slowed her steps, trying to get a better look. Suddenly, the vehicle sped out of the alley, heading north, away from the center. The license plate was from New Mexico, but Amanda couldn’t make out the letters or numbers. She hurried back to the center.

She pulled Bernice into her office. “That person was definitely watching us,” Amanda said. “I wish I’d managed to get a look at the driver’s face.”

“Maybe you’re safer not knowing who it is,” Bernice said slowly.