Lies That Bind

“YOU OKAY?” Sam asked Jack as they drove away from the house on Poppin Hill.

“Tired, that’s all.”

“Leg okay?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t, but that wasn’t Sam’s fault. He’d done too much. Dammit, how much longer before he was back in shape?

“Thanks for giving your talk again. I know Dex and Cade appreciated it. Betsy asked some intelligent questions, I thought.”

“Yeah.” April had left as soon as he started. Was that because she had already heard it?

“What’s the story with April?” he asked.

“She and Eliza grew up together. The detective Maddie hired to find the girls located her some months ago. When Eliza contacted her, she came home. She’s a model in Paris. Ever hear of her? Avril is her French name.”

Figured. With her looks, modeling was right up her alley.

“I don’t associate with models,” Jack said.

“Far as I can tell, old son, you don’t associate much with anyone,” Sam said easily.

“Never in one place long enough.”

Sam turned into his driveway, his headlights briefly illuminating the house. Jack could count the minutes now until he’d be prone, and could take the medication that would ease the pain in his foot. Today had proved how far he was from being ready to return to work.

When they got into the house, Jack looked at Sam. “Thanks for including me. You have good friends.”

“Settle down someplace and you’ll make your own. What are you going to do tomorrow?”

Nothing, was the first thing to come to mind. But he wasn’t going to get better by letting his muscles atrophy. “Take a walk, check in with the news bureau. You don’t have to entertain me, remember?”

“I remember. Stop by the office and I’ll show you what I’ve done so far searching for Jo. You might be interested and catch something I’ve missed.”

“What is this? Do I look like a damn missing persons bureau?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, where did that come from?”

“April asked me earlier if I’d help her find her parents.”

“Maybe with your background, we’re hoping you’ll have suggestions for digging out the facts we want. You have more time to devote to the search. As far as I know, Jo hasn’t done anything wrong. Hard to justify spending taxpayers’ money on an extensive search.” Sam looked at Jack with curiosity. “What did you tell April?”

“No, of course.”

“And my request gets a negative, too?”

“I’ll stop by. But if modern police science can’t find a person, I doubt I can.”

Jack headed on to bed, glad to get off his foot. He lay in the darkness, though, unable to sleep. The ache was only part of the problem. His wakefulness had to do with his future. Or perhaps lack of future. If his foot didn’t heal properly, he’d never go on assignment again.

What would he do then?

Maybe he should give some thought to working on locating this Jo Hunter. It would give him something to fill the time until he was in fighting shape again. And keep him from dwelling on what the future might hold.

THE NEXT MORNING April walked into town to go to the sheriff’s office. She wanted to ask Sam if he could help in her search for her parents.

To her surprise, Jack Palmer was ahead of her, ready to enter the building as she approached. She hesitated, but he turned and saw her and held the door for her to enter.

She walked past him into the dimness of the old building. The tall ceilings held lazily rotating fans. The walls needed to be repainted and the wooden desks were gouged and scarred. Artificial lights cast a yellowish gloom over everything, and the few windows were covered with closed venetian blinds.

“Here to see Sam?” Jack asked April, following her to the counter where an officer sat.

“Yes.” Not that it was any of his business.

“He’s in the back. I’m heading that way myself.” Jack gestured toward the rear of the building. He nodded to the man at the desk and held the swinging gate for April to enter.

She matched her stride to his halting one as they silently walked down the long hallway. Rounding a corner, they came into an open area with several more desks. April was surprised to find Maraville had such a large force. There had to be at least a half-dozen desks all told. The sheriff’s department acted as law enforcement for the town and surrounding county. Still, she was surprised there’d be that much crime to deal with.

Jack approached the desk near a partially opened door.

“We’re here to see Sam,” he told the woman seated at the desk.

She smiled at him, then looked at April, her eyes widening. “April Jeffries, as I live and breathe!” She jumped up and came around the desk to hug her.

“It’s me, Marjorie Tamlin. How are you. Wow, aren’t you gorgeous.”

April felt Jack’s gaze, but she avoided looking at him as she hugged Marjorie.

“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.”

“They acted like they never gave out any information. I was totally stonewalled.”

“I have a different technique,” he said smugly.

“I can hardly wait to see the mighty reporter in action.” She fiddled with her cup, turning it around on the saucer. “How long are you staying in Maraville?”

He shrugged. “Depends on how fast my foot heals.”

“What happened?”

“Land mine.”

“Ouch. You’re lucky it wasn’t blown off.”

He saw the sympathy in her expression and frowned. He didn’t want pity.

“I didn’t step on it, I was just a bystander. But it did enough damage.”

“You’ll be fine again, right?”

“Yeah, as soon as it heals.” He hoped to God that was true.

CHAPTER FOUR

“WHAT ARE THE CHANCES the people we’ll talk to at Social Services will just give me my file?” April asked. “They refused before. Maybe if Maddie had pushed, they might have done more, but she wasn’t willing to.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he asked her about the decision to remove the girls from Maddie’s care. She explained the matter had been handled quickly, with no input from the three of them. One day they were living with Maddie, the next they were in different homes.

“Odd,” he said.

“Why?”

“You girls had been together for years, raised as sisters essentially. I’d think the court would initially try to place you together. Or if not, at least make sure you were able to maintain contact. It was cruel to make you sever all ties. Sam said the investigation was handled poorly. Now I’m wondering if there was more involved.”

“Like a conspiracy?” She half smiled. “I doubt it. We were three foster kids. There aren’t a lot of foster families in Maraville, or there weren’t back then, and not many people are willing to take on three teenagers. Probably the easiest thing to do was send us to the first homes available, which just happened to be in different towns.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But why not tell you where the other girls were sent? Eliza said you couldn’t contact each other. There was nothing in the file about that, according to Sam. Maybe Social Services will give us some information.”

“If there was some hidden agenda, do you think they’ll tell us at this late date?”

“Good point.” He was quiet for a moment. April could almost see his mind turning over all possibilities.

“Anyone there know you personally?” he asked.

“I haven’t had any contact since my case was transferred to Jackson years ago. Maybe they have new staff.”

“Unlikely in this town. Seems to me the only chance for advancement comes when someone dies.”

“So maybe Mrs. Savalak died. She looked a hundred and three when she was my caseworker. Even older than Maddie.”

“What do you mean?”

April explained that she and the others had thought Maddie’s ideas old-fashioned and considered her ancient. “In retrospect, I think she just had high standards and tried to instill them in all of us,” she said slowly.

“Would Maddie be any help to us?”

“I doubt it. If she could talk, she might tell us how she came to get me, but unless you can word all your questions to take yes or no answers, we’re out of luck. Besides, I tried to find out more when I was a child, and she wasn’t any help then.”

“Asking yes/no questions is easy enough to do. But let’s see what else we can find out first. You finished?”

“Just about.” She drained her coffee cup. “What about Jo?”

“I’ll see if there’s anything else I can come up with, but if people don’t want to be found, they usually aren’t.”

“Why wouldn’t she want to be found? I’ll bet she’d like to know Eliza and I are looking for her.”

“If she ran away, she might have thought the law was after her. Which it should have been. From what Sam said, that was something else that wasn’t handled according to policy. If she changed her name to avoid detection, she could still be living under that name. Did she have any other family?”

April shook her head. “Her mother died when we were all about thirteen. Jo’s father was in prison. Still is for all I know. Or maybe he died, but she sure wouldn’t have gone to him.”

“Why not? What was he in prison for?”

“Trying to kill her mother.”

Jack whistled. “Okay, let’s go check out Social Services.”

AS THEY WERE USHERED into the office of the director of Social Services a short time later, April held back, letting Jack run the interview. She’d smiled when he’d flashed his reporter’s card at the receptionist and asked for an appointment. The woman had recognized him immediately. Apparently lots of people watched CNN.

“Jack Palmer, I’m Roberta Nelson,” the director greeted him when they entered her utilitarian office.

“Thank you for seeing us without a prior appointment, Ms. Nelson,” he said smoothly, shaking hands and introducing April.

“How do you do?” she said to April, then gestured to the visitor chairs. “Please, sit down, both of you. I can’t imagine what I can do for you. I’ve seen you so many times reporting from Iraq, Mr. Palmer. You will be going back, won’t you?” She eyed Jack’s cast and cane. Roberta Nelson was an older woman with graying brown hair. Her dress was more functional than stylish, and a pair of glasses rested on the desk in front of her.

“That’s still up in the air,” he replied as the three of them were seated. “Until then, I’m keeping my hand in. I’m doing a proposal for a story idea to my boss about foster care, how it works, and the benefits it affords children who would otherwise have to go to an orphanage. I want to research what happens to some of these children. How many make a success of their lives, how many end up in trouble.”

April looked at him. What a cover. The man was good.

“Oh?” Roberta was caught, April could tell.

“I’m staying with Sam Witt, Sheriff Witt. I thought I’d get started right here in Maraville. There are several local success stories that piqued my interest. Combined with those from other locales, such as New Orleans, Atlanta, even New York, we can present a broad canvas that will capture America’s attention and give credit to hardworking foster parents who open their doors to homeless children.”

“Why, I think that’s a wonderful idea,” the director enthused. “We only have a few qualified families here. But then, we don’t have a lot of homeless children, either.”

“Actually, April Jeffries is a foster child who was placed here in Maraville. She’s now a successful model in France. She’s agreed to allow me to start my interviews with her while she’s here visiting.”

“I see.” Roberta looked at April and smiled. “You’re certainly beautiful enough to be a model. In Paris?”

“I’ve lived there for seven years. But Maraville will always be home.” She hoped her tone was the one Jack was looking for. Would the woman really buy his story?

“How can I help you?” Roberta asked.

“We’d like to discuss the basics of how the foster-care system works,” Jack explained. “How you place children, maybe look at April’s history as a case study. Of course, once we’re further along and know if this will make it to the network, we’d ask if you were willing to be taped for broadcast on national television. The film crew would do its best not to disrupt your daily routine,” Jack assured her.

“National television. Oh, my.” Roberta Nelson seemed to have stars in her eyes.

“The whole concept is still in the planning stages, right now,” Jack added.

“Of course. I’m happy to help however I can.”

Jack settled back and pulled out his notebook. “I thought I’d ask a few questions to get the ball rolling, jot some notes, if that’s okay with you?”

The director nodded eagerly.

“Then we’ll formulate how we wish to proceed. And maybe you can go over April’s file with us, to show us an actual example of how the system works.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. We don’t make that information public.” She looked apologetically at April.

“I understand,” April said. “But if I’m here to give my permission, wouldn’t that make a difference?”

“For the broadcast, we’ll blank out any personal details,” Jack added.

“I’ve seen how that works,” Roberta told him. “Everything gets fuzzy inside a certain area.”

“Exactly,” Jack agreed. “Now, can we begin with a brief history of your own background and how you got started in Social Services?”

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