“Kravitz left town this morning. You won’t be seeing him today.”

“That’s the best news I’ve had since I woke up. I’ve got something for you to follow up on concerning O’Meara.”

“Shoot.”

“I found out Crime Stoppers had a call in ninety-seven about the then-unidentified body of a woman. According to the report I found, this guy who phoned said he recognized her from the reconstruction photo in the paper.”

“The police had a lead?”

“Not exactly. This guy wanted the reward, but when the investigator on the case interviewed him, the man flipped, said he’d made a mistake. Said he didn’t know the woman.”

“That’s weird. Was he some kind of attention seeker? Just wanted to talk to a cop?” I asked.

“You mean like the attention seekers who’ve been phoning in useless clues all morning? I don’t think so. Doesn’t fit the personality of our regular callers. They prefer higher-profile cases like the infant bones. Some nameless woman found dead in a field wouldn’t have grabbed their interest.”

“But Christine’s murder will draw plenty of publicity once people know her connection to the bones-whatever that connection is.”

“Right,” DeShay said. “That’s why, besides you, only Emma and her family will be told about the O’Meara ID. We don’t have any hard evidence to connect the baby’s death and her disappearance and murder yet. I’m hoping something CSU collected will show that Christine killed that baby, or at least put her in the ground.”

“Christine’s death came five years after that baby died. Maybe her murder’s not related,” I said.

“True. But I’m not expecting answers anytime soon. White’s not real into this case. Along with hating my guts because I’m not Ed Benson and being pissed off at you because he thinks only cops should work homicides, he’s distracted by Ed’s illness. Jeff got an earful about all this when I talked to him this morning.”

“You talked to Jeff?” Even though we’d spoken less than twelve hours ago, I felt a little flutter in my stomach when I heard his name.

“Yeah, I told him he needs to get his damn ass back here.”

“He doesn’t have a damn ass. He has one of the nicest-”

“Some things you can keep to yourself, Abby girl. Anyway, I told him White’s got me screening the crack-pot calls, people telling me it was their baby under that house or they know someone who knows someone who might know something about the case. Stupid stuff that will probably lead nowhere. Jeff told me I should cut White some slack, so I’m trying.”

“I guess I should try, too,” I said. “Did Jeff say anything else?”

“No hint about coming back, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

I smiled. “You read my mind.” Just then, a kid in the back of the car ahead of me must have thought the smile was for him, because he began playing games with me-hiding and then popping back up. I said, “I’ll follow up on the Crime Stoppers lead, see if this guy really did know Christine O’Meara and for some reason backed off on the ID.”

“Go for it. It’s probably a dead end, but it’s all we’ve got. Guy’s name is Jerry Joe Billings. No rap sheet-which would have helped, but-Wait a minute. The O’Meara woman was a drunk, right? If this guy knew her, maybe he was a drunk, too. He might have been arrested for public intoxication.”

“But I thought you said he didn’t have a rap sheet,” I said, confused.

“Anything less than a Class A or Class B offense isn’t listed in our criminal database, but there’s somewhere else I can look for minor violations. If I do find out he was arrested, then we’ll have his social.”

“I can do plenty with that,” I said.

“I have a copy of his driver’s license, but he’s not living at his last known address. You want me to fax you the copy so you’ll have a picture of him?”

“Send it as an e-mail attachment straight to my computer phone.” I gave him the number. I always keep the new BlackBerry with me, but found I liked my smaller cell phone with the camera for regular use.

I’d moved only about a city block during our entire conversation. Up ahead I could see a car being moved to the side of the road. The flashing lights of about ten wreckers glittered in my rearview. Up ahead the little boy was still playing his jack-in-the-box game.

And that game suddenly brought it all together when I realized that there were two boys, close in age but one with darker blond hair and different clothes from the other. When one went down, the other popped up.

That was why there had been no report of a kidnapping in ‘92. Since Emma’s sister had been born at home, there was no official record of her birth. No record would make a switch far simpler. That had to be it. One baby-Christine’s-had been exchanged for another. Evidence or not, I had little doubt that if Christine hadn’t put that tiny body under her house, she knew who had.

I clenched my fist and banged the steering wheel. She’d given up or sold her own newborn for another child, a baby who may have already been dead or about to die. A child was left under a house-hidden, nameless and forgotten. It made me sick. And where was Emma’s sister? Continents away? Or still in Houston? With what little I had, finding her might be impossible.

16

If Kravitz’s people hoped to follow me to Murray Motorcycles once the highway clog cleared, I disappointed them. I pulled off the freeway first chance I got and went to a coffee shop with wireless access. When I checked my computer phone, I discovered I’d been sent more than Billings’s driver’s license. DeShay e-mailed the man’s arrest records-the ones he hadn’t found when he checked his computer earlier. Billings had nine arrests for public intoxication.

I would need access to one or more of my person-locator databases now that I had Billings’s social security number from the arrest sheet. I wanted to find out where he was-and I sure hoped he was a local-but I wanted to tell Emma about the latest round of DNA results before anyone else did.

I sat at a tiny table with my extra-large latte, double shot of espresso, and called her hotel. No one picked up in her room. I then tried her cell. When she answered, I was surprised to learn she was at work.

“You drove?” I said.

“Yup. The rental car company delivered a Cadillac, Abby. I couldn’t believe it. I have to thank Kate for doing that. I’ve never even sat in a Cadillac before. It will be so nice for taking clients to properties.”

“What about your shoulder?”

“Doesn’t hurt much. But the reporters? Now, those people are harder to deal with than a cracked collarbone. They followed me. I told them if they came inside my office I was calling the cops. But then the cops called me instead. Sergeant White.”

“Why did he phone you?” I asked.

“They got the new DNA report. Neither my mother-and she is my biological parent-nor I is related to that baby. I’m supposed to keep those results to myself. But I told him I was telling you. He didn’t like that much. He’s worried the whole world will find out.”

“DeShay already gave me the news. That’s why I was calling. I’m sorry you had to hear that over the phone from White. He’s not the most sensitive man I’ve ever met.”

“It’s okay. Really. This means my sister could be alive. We’re back to the beginning, back to why you agreed to help me in the first place-with one added problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The other baby. She belonged to someone, Abby. She didn’t deserve to be buried under a house, left in a hole like trash.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “That’s the part that’s given me a lump in my throat. I want to find out who she was and why this happened.”

“Me, too,” she said quietly.

“This means that learning everything about your mother is more important than ever. A dead baby about the same age as your sister is no coincidence. I-”