The Mystery Man of Whitehorse. B.J. Daniels

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СКАЧАТЬ an elderly woman gave them a baby and a birth certificate. No money exchanged hands. Nor names. Bridger had surmised over his time here that the woman in the cemetery that night was none other than Pearl Cavanaugh.

      How a group of women had decided to get into the illegal adoption business was still beyond him. Nor did he know how many babies had been placed over the years.

      He’d come to town months ago, rented an old farm-house just outside of Old Town and begun his search.

      Unfortunately, his quest had come at a high price. Most of the people involved were now dead. The doctor who Bridger believed had handled the adoptions—Dr. Holloway—had been murdered by one of his coconspirators, his office building burned to the ground, all records apparently lost.

      The woman he believed to be the ringleader, Pearl Cavanaugh, had suffered a stroke. Another key player, an elderly women named Nina Mae Cross, had Alzheimer’s. Both women were in the nursing home now. Neither was able to tell him anything.

      But Bridger was convinced Holloway was too smart to keep records of his illegal adoption activities with his patients' medical records at the office. So he held out hope that the records would be found elsewhere.

      But where would the doctor have hidden them to make sure they never surfaced? Maybe in this house Bridger had discovered.

      Or maybe no records had been kept. Certainly no charges had been filed against anyone involved, for lack of evidence.

      But even if Bridger found proof, not one of the women in the original Whitehorse Sewing Circle was less than seventy now. None would ever see prison. The only thing he could hope for was learning his true identity.

      “Even if you had proof that would stand up in court,” the sheriff had said, “you sure you want these women thrown in jail? If they hadn’t gotten you and your twin sister good homes, neither of you might be alive today.”

      Bridger knew he probably owed his life to the Whitehorse Sewing Circle. The women had taken babies who needed homes and placed them with loving couples who either couldn’t conceive or were ineligible to adopt because of their age.

      Also, something good had come out of his quest: he’d found his twin sister, Eve Bailey. Eve had grown up in Old Town and suspected from an early age that she was adopted. She’d come back here also looking for answers and, like him, had ended up staying.

      As he copied down the address of the house that Dr. Holloway had owned, he felt a surge of hope. The doctor had lived in an apartment over his office. So what had he used the house for?

      Bridger tried not to get his hopes up, telling himself that if he didn’t find anything at the house, there was always Pearl Cavanaugh’s granddaughter.

      One way or the other, maybe he’d finally get lucky.

      LACI JUMPED WHEN THE phone rang and picked it up before even checking caller ID. She’d been thinking about Alyson, so she’d just assumed it would be her.

      “Laci?”

      “Maddie?” She realized she hadn’t heard from her cousin in weeks, not since Maddie Cavanaugh had moved to Bozeman to attend Montana State University. “How are you?”

      “Great. Really great,” Maddie said, sounding like her old self again.

      Laci couldn’t have been more relieved. Maddie had been through so much, not the least being suspected of murder. But probably the hardest was her breakup with her fiancé, Bo Evans.

      The hold Bo had on Maddie was still a concern. Laci feared that Maddie might weaken and go back to that destructive relationship.

      “So tell me about your classes,” Laci said, and Maddie launched into an enthusiastic rundown. She sounded so happy that Laci began to relax a little.

      Counseling and college seemed to have helped Maddie put Bo Evans and a need to punish herself behind her.

      Maddie asked about Laci’s catering business, and Laci quickly changed the subject. Her lack of business was the least of her worries right now, but she didn’t want to get into the Alyson and Spencer situation with her cousin.

      “I have a test first thing in the morning, so I’d better go,” Maddie said after they’d talked for a while. “I wanted to let you know that my roommate has invited me home for Christmas. She’s from Kalispell, so…”

      Laci tried to hide her disappointment. Maddie had planned to spend Christmas with her. Laney and Nick had already made plans to have Christmas with his family in California. “Oh, you’ll have a great time. What a nice invitation.”

      “You don’t mind?” Maddie asked, sounding relieved.

      “Of course I will miss you, but I’m so glad you’re enjoying college and making friends.” Laci knew that Laney would now insist she come to California—the last thing she wanted to do. Christmas required snow. Christmas was Montana. Also, she couldn’t leave her grandfather alone for the holidays.

      “I’m really proud of you,” Laci said. “You’ve been through a lot.”

      “You know us Cavanaugh women,” Maddie said with a laugh. “I’m excited about the future.” Her cousin sounded surprised by that. After everything she’d been through, it was no wonder.

      Laci hung up, relieved that Maddie hadn’t asked about Bo Evans. Maybe she was finally over him. Laci would rather believe that than believe Maddie hadn’t wanted to come home for Christmas because she was afraid to see Bo again. Either because she feared she might be tempted or because she was scared of the Evans family. Laci could understand being afraid of that family.

      ARLENE EVANS COULDN'T believe the mental hospital wouldn’t let her see her daughter Violet.

      “I told you they wouldn’t let us in,” Charlotte said as she inspected the ends of her long blond hair.

      Arlene glanced over at her younger daughter as she put the car into gear. More and more, Charlotte was starting to annoy her. The whiny voice. The obsession with her split ends. The way she’d put on weight since the “incidents.”

      Arlene insisted the family all refer to the attempts on her life as “those unfortunate incidents” if they had to refer to them at all. She would just as soon forget the whole thing. But that was a little difficult since the entire country had heard about her three children trying to kill her.

      It had almost cost Arlene the farm in lawyer fees to get her two youngest off. It had cost her her husband. Floyd divorced her and ran off with some grain seed saleswoman. Good riddance. She’d leased out the land and would be just fine now that her Rural Meet-A-Mate Internet dating service was doing so well. Being on national TV hadn’t hurt.

      Whatever the cost, it had been worth it to get Charlotte and Bo cleared. In her own mind, Arlene knew where the blame for the whole mess lay: her old-maid daughter Violet. Violet had always been the problem child. Charlotte, barely eighteen, and Bo, now twenty, would never have even contemplated the terrible things they’d done without Violet as the ringleader.

      Alice Miller, that old busybody who lived down the road, had suggested the children were fed too much sugar. The woman really needed to turn off the talk-show television and take care of СКАЧАТЬ