Chương 5
It was lighter than he expected. The fur had once been beige. One plastic eye was scratched, and the left paw had been repaired with blue thread. When he pressed the torso, something hard shifted beneath the stuffing.
He used a small pair of scissors from Lily’s desk to open the loose seam. Inside, wrapped in wax paper, was a brass key and a folded strip of paper.
The paper held six handwritten words.
Union Station. Locker 318. Grace’s birthday.
The handwriting belonged to Karen. Marcus remembered it from a wedding card that had contained no blessing, only a warning to take care of her sister.
Leon returned to the doorway.
“Adrian’s phone is off,” he said. “His car was seen leaving his building at five twelve. We have no confirmed location.”
Marcus showed him the note.
Owen stood.
“I have to report that.”
“You can report it after I photograph it.”
“You cannot remove potential evidence.”
Marcus looked at him.
Owen swallowed but held his ground.
“The chain of custody matters.”
For a few seconds, the room contained the old Marcus and the man Grace had tried to make. The old one saw a frightened employee with no power beyond procedure. The other saw Emma watching from the floor.
Marcus placed the key and note on Lily’s desk.
“Call Carla.”
Owen blinked.
“Now?”
“No. Next Christmas.”
Owen made the call.
Chicago police collected the note and key within an hour. A detective named Serena Holt arrived with a partner and a portable evidence kit. She was in her forties, compact, calm, and unimpressed by Leon’s insistence on checking her identification twice.
She photographed the bear, swabbed the wax paper, and sealed everything in transparent bags. Emma watched from the bed.
“Will Buttons come back?” she asked.
Detective Holt looked at the damaged bear.
“I’ll make sure he does.”
“He’s a boy.”
“Sorry. I’ll make sure he does.”
Marcus studied the detective. Most officers who entered his home carried either hostility or nervous respect. Holt carried neither.
“You’re going to Union Station tonight,” he said.
“We’re going to assess the information.”
“The locker may be emptied.”
“It may also be watched.”
“So you understand the problem.”
“I understand several problems. One of them is you deciding you’re part of my investigation.”
Marcus leaned against the desk.
“My daughter was abandoned in a park.”
“Possible daughter.”
Emma’s eyes dropped.
Holt saw it and immediately corrected herself.
“Emma, I mean we’re still waiting for the test. That’s all.”
Lily said, “She’s his daughter.”
Holt gave her a tired smile.
“You may be right.”
“I am.”
Marcus said, “You will tell me what’s in the locker.”
“No.”
“Detective.”
“Mr. Blackwell.”
Leon stepped closer. Holt’s partner shifted his hand near his belt.
Emma pulled the quilt to her chin.
Marcus noticed.
He moved away from the detective.
“Find Karen,” he said. “That is the only thing I care about tonight.”
It was not the only thing, but it was the only thing he could say in front of the children.
Holt left with the evidence.
Near midnight, the DNA laboratory called Carla with a preliminary result. Marcus was Emma’s biological father. Lily and Emma were full siblings with a probability consistent with identical twins.
Carla delivered the news in the kitchen.
Marcus sat at the table where Emma’s half-finished macaroni remained beneath plastic wrap. Leon stood at the window. Owen had fallen asleep upright on the sofa, one hand still near his laptop.
“Identical twins,” Carla repeated. “The lab will issue formal documentation, but the result is clear.”
Marcus did not answer.
He had expected confirmation. Expectation did not lessen the impact.
Six years earlier, he had held Lily in a hospital room while Grace slept. He remembered the shape of the child’s head, the furious little cry, the nurse joking that the baby had strong lungs. He remembered asking whether Grace was safe.
He did not remember asking whether there had been another child.
The omission opened inside him like a pit.
“How?” Leon said.
Carla closed her folder.
“That is not a medical question I can answer. Records can be reviewed. The hospital will need releases and probably legal counsel.”
Marcus stared at the table.
“Grace knew.”
Carla waited.
“Emma remembers her.”
“She may.”
“She said Grace told her I was her father.”
“Children remember pieces. Sometimes accurately. Sometimes not.”
Marcus’s gaze rose.
“Do not reduce my wife to a confused child’s memory.”
“I’m not reducing anyone. I’m telling you not to build a conclusion before the facts arrive.”
He stood too quickly. The chair legs scraped the floor.
Owen woke on the sofa.
Carla remained in place.
Marcus walked to the sink, turned on the water, then turned it off. He had no reason to wash his hands. The habit came from his father, who scrubbed his knuckles after every fight whether blood was present or not.
Behind him, Carla said, “Emma can remain here under emergency kinship placement. A hearing will be scheduled. There will be conditions.”
“She stays.”
“That’s the likely recommendation.”
“She stays.”
Carla gathered her papers.
“You can repeat it as many times as you like. Tomorrow there will still be forms.”
After she left, Leon poured two glasses of water. Marcus did not drink his.
“Adrian arranged the hospital,” Leon said.
Marcus looked at him.
“He drove Grace there. You were at the South Shore warehouse dealing with the Moretti problem.”
“I remember.”
“He stayed until you arrived.”
“He stayed after.”
Leon nodded. “He also hired the private nurse who came to the house.”
Marcus pressed both hands against the counter.
“Find her.”
“Already started.”
“And the obstetrician.”
“Retired in Arizona.”
“Wake him up.”
Leon took out his phone.
Marcus said, “No threats.”
Leon paused.
“That limits the usual efficiency.”
“No threats.”
May you like
“Understood.”
Marcus went upstairs after one. He stopped outside Lily’s room. The door stood open. Both girls were asleep beneath the bed, Lily on her back, Emma curled toward her. Marcus’s black jacket covered them from shoulders to feet. Buttons had been replaced temporarily by one of Lily’s stuffed horses.
