Mystery Child. Shirlee McCoy

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      “That’s Megan and Daniel Boone Anderson, and their daughter, Kendal. The picture was taken a month before Megan and Kendal disappeared. Megan died a few months later. Kendal has been missing ever since.”

      “I’m sorry,” Quinn murmured. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

      “That was five years ago. The baby would be Jubilee’s age now. Mr. Anderson has moved on, of course. He has a family. Children, but he’s still desperate to find his daughter. He’s never stopped looking for her.” Agent Spellings eyed Quinn expectantly.

      Quinn knew she was supposed to respond. Maybe with a gasp or a denial—No way! The baby in the picture isn’t Jubilee.

      She couldn’t deny what she didn’t know, though.

      She wanted to believe Tabitha, but the evidence Agent Spellings had laid out was undeniable. Up until Tabitha had moved to Nevada a year and a half ago, she hadn’t had a child. Friends at her old apartment had never seen her with a little girl. Her coworkers hadn’t ever heard her speak about being a mother.

      The FBI had moved fast, gathering information a lot more quickly than Quinn ever could have, and the information indicated that Tabitha had lied.

      Quinn couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t brush it under the carpet and pretend it didn’t exist. But, she wouldn’t regret the decision she’d made, either. Jubilee deserved to be with someone who loved her, who had been desperately seeking her for years. If she was Daniel Boone Anderson’s child, she deserved to be part of his family.

      “I’m sorry for what happened, but I don’t know anything about it.” She fingered the photo before sliding it back across August’s kitchen table. She and Agent Spellings had been left alone in the room, a half dozen police officers and two other agents vacating the kitchen and escorting August and Malone out with them. A CPS caseworker had arrived and taken Jubilee into another part of the house.

      Hopefully, she hadn’t taken the little girl away.

      Jubilee might not be her niece, but Quinn felt responsible for her.

      “You’re sorry, but do you understand the ramifications of what you and your sister have done?”

      “Of course, I understand, but I had no reason to doubt my sister’s story.”

      “Except that you hadn’t seen her in years,” Agent Spellings pointed out.

      “She’s family.” That was it. All Quinn was going to say. If she needed a lawyer, she’d get one. Right now, she just wanted to be done and go home.

      “I understand. I have sisters, too. I know how deep the bond can run.” Agent Spellings sighed. “You’re not in any trouble with us, Quinn, but we would like to speak with your sister.”

      “If I knew where she was, I’d tell you.”

      “I hope so.” The agent switched gears, pulled something out of a briefcase. “We found this in your car.” Agent Spellings set a manila envelope on the table, Tabitha’s handwriting scrawled across the front. It had been sealed when Quinn fled the SUV. Now the flap was open.

      “Tabitha gave it to me.”

      “And you didn’t open it?”

      “She asked me not to.”

      Agent Spellings raised a dark eyebrow. Obviously, she doubted Quinn’s answer.

      “She asked me to give it to Jubilee’s father,” Quinn continued, her tone a little more defensive than she wanted it to be.

      “I would have been curious enough to open it,” Agent Spellings countered. “Most people would have done the same.”

      “I’m not most people. Jubilee’s father’s contact information was on the envelope. I didn’t have any need to see what was inside of it, and I had no reason to doubt my sister’s word.”

      Agent Spellings snorted, the first time she’d done anything that was less than professional. “Of course you did. Your sister is as much of a con artist as your father was.”

      It was a low blow, and one Quinn wasn’t expecting. Obviously, Jubilee and Tabitha weren’t the only ones the FBI had been investigating.

      “What does that have to do with anything?” she hedged, not sure where the conversation was going but certain she wasn’t going to like it.

      “Did you really think she wasn’t conning you, Quinn? That she didn’t know you were going to become bait? A way of getting whoever was after her off her tail?”

      “All I know is that she was dead serious when she said she was afraid of her husband. She wasn’t conning me when she said he’d kill her when he found her.”

      “Believing people we love is a lot easier than realizing we’ve been fooled and used by them.”

      “I’m not a fool, Agent Spellings. Living with my father taught me how to know a lie from the truth.”

      Agent Spellings sighed. “Then, maybe she was afraid but maybe it was because she took thousands of dollars from her husband’s bank account and stole a small fortune worth of family jewelry from his wall safe.”

      “Who told you she did that?”

      “A police report was filed in Las Vegas last night. We’re trying to get in touch with your sister’s husband now. He flew out of town on business a few hours after he filed the report.”

      “Convenient,” Quinn muttered, but she felt exactly like what Agent Spellings had implied she was—tricked, duped, used.

      “The trip had been scheduled for months, Quinn. As a matter of fact, your sister’s husband was supposed to leave yesterday morning. His flight was delayed, then canceled. He booked a second flight out late last night. I’m sure your sister wasn’t anticipating him coming home so soon and discovering what she’d stolen.”

      “Has it occurred to you that she took what she did, because she was terrified, and she needed a way to start a new life?”

      “Even if that was true—” and based on the way Agent Spellings looked when she said it, she didn’t think it was “—there’s no reasonable or acceptable excuse for committing a crime. I’m sure you know that, Quinn.”

      She did, but she didn’t think Agent Spellings expected a response, so she kept her mouth shut.

      “Like I said,” Agent Spellings continued, “you’re not in any kind of trouble. We know you were doing a favor for your sister, and we know that you had no idea the child you were transporting wasn’t hers. If you’d opened the envelope your sister gave you, you might have realized that before you traveled six hundred miles.” She pulled a sheet of paper from the envelope, slid it toward Quinn. “This is Kendal Grace Anderson’s birth certificate. The original.”

      “Oh,” was all she could manage, the official document sitting in front of her all the evidence she needed that Tabitha had had no business taking Jubilee anywhere.

      “Your sister lied to СКАЧАТЬ