Chapter 6

in which our heroine.

Adam took a sip of coffee from the mug beside him as he clicked yet another link on the screen in front of him. He thought briefly that one day he should get one of those coffee warmers to put on his desk, but he’d become so accustomed to drinking it cold that he didn’t care anymore.

He glanced at the time in the corner of screen and saw that it was almost lunchtime. He’d managed to go these few hours at the office keeping himself busy enough to not think about Steph, and that was victory enough for him.

In between digging up leads for the Carter case and poring through online psych profiles of stalkers, he could forget the softness of her face, the smell of her hair. He was able to bury himself enough in the work of researching facts to stop thinking about her as a person. Just like he had for years.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jessie’s father. What kind of person did Steph get herself mixed up with that she couldn’t even give him any details, not even a name? She wouldn’t even consider revealing anything about him, but still maintained that he couldn’t be the stalker.

In his experience, you didn’t hide that much about a person if there wasn’t a reason to do so. And that didn’t bode well to him at all.

He noticed that he still had a page up from when he was searching Steph’s name, and closed it. That had come up empty, too. No search results with her name in it at all past the year she left for college. No pictures, no social media profiles, nothing. Her Brooklyn phone number seemed to be unlisted as well.

That bothered him a lot. Privacy online was pretty hard to come by. You had to be pretty intentional to make that happen, since it was so easy to accidentally have a dozen websites listing something about you without even realizing it. You can’t just keep off the internet without going well out of your way to avoid leaving footprints.

That bothered him even more, made him more suspicious of the father. He’d seen a lot of people run scared in his life, trying to cover their tracks, but it looked like Steph had been doing that since the day she set foot in New York. He didn’t know how she could have gotten into a bad scene so fast, but all the signs pointed that way.

Adam’s phone began to ring on the cradle beside him. He picked it up and saw the name M. HARRIS on the call display. Looks like Mike was still as fast as ever. He hadn’t expected to hear back from him before lunch. Adam smiled and answered the call. Now he was getting somewhere.

“Hey Mike. What’s the word?”

“Faxing the papers over to you now. Hope they help you out, man.”

 “Me too. Thanks, Mike, I owe you one.”

“You owe me a lot more than one, Chase,” Mike said, laughing. “But I stopped counting at twenty.”

“I hear that,” Adam said, rolling his eyes in agreement. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?” They exchanged a pleasantry or two, and Adam hung up the phone. He could already hear his fax machine whirring behind him.

It seemed to take forever, but the paper finally finished printing and he picked it up. He scanned the grainy image of the birth certificate to take in the details. Kings County Hospital. Mother, Stephanie Marie Palmer. Father, Unknown.

Adam gritted his teeth. It figured - another dead end. Not that he should have been surprised with Stephanie, he thought bitterly. He glanced at the birth date. That was something. A year after she left – looks like she didn’t waste any time at all forgetting him.

But then he paused, and looked at the birth date again, doing the math in his head. It was less than a year after she left for college. Maybe eight, nine months.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the date, thinking about when Steph left for college. About the time they spent together the week before she said goodbye. A chill coursed through his blood.

Now he knew exactly why she was being so evasive.

Adam tossed the fax towards the garbage can, not even looking to see where it landed. Then he grabbed his keys and left the office, letting the door slam shut behind him.

* * *

Stephanie paused in the laundry room, basket on her hip. Gravel crunched and a car engine stopped. Nobody should be here right now. It was the middle of the day.

She stood, stock still, and waited. She turned her ear in the direction of the driveway. If someone was coming, she would hear the car door slam first. Drips from the faucet above the grey utility sink seemed to ricochet throughout the room, and she strained to listen. The wet clothes pulled at her arm and the edge of the basket’s handle dug into her palm. She didn’t dare move. If there was something to hear, she didn’t want to miss it.

Whoever had pulled up was still in the driveway, still in their car. Unless they hadn’t shut the door. Had she heard footsteps? Would she be able to hear them from this deep inside the house?

Ben was upstairs, presumably asleep. She could wake him if she needed to, but could she do it in time? He and Adam had been sleeping in short shifts since she’d arrived. At first she’d been uncomfortable, but Ben had let her know that it happened all the time. At least this time they were doing it in their own beds. Normally it was in the cab of a truck with the other one keeping watch.

She ran through the layout of the house in her mind, thinking of the best way to get to Ben if she had to. If she went up the front stairs, that brought her right into the path of the entryway. If she got there before anybody got in, she could make it in time.

Stop it. Just stop it. It’s probably the mailman.

She bent to put the basket onto the floor and as she bent back up she heard a car door slam. She froze in place. A few beats went by, and then footsteps on the porch. Now she couldn’t make it to Ben without crossing the front door. Her eyes shot around the room to find something to defend herself with. If she made enough noise, she might wake up Ben. He was probably a light sleeper. She scanned the dim laundry room for anything big and blunt. A lone plunger stood by the sink. Not much of a weapon.

Quiet footsteps beat a shallow rhythm above her. Maybe it was just Adam. But there was no reason for Adam to be home. He said he wouldn’t be home until late. She’d put stew in the slow cooker so they wouldn’t have to run the oven in the heat.

As silently as she could, she reached around to grab the plunger. It wasn’t much, but it might buy her a few moments of surprise. She crept out of the laundry room, her socks silent on the linoleum tiles. At least if she was out of this room, she could have a place to go.

Keys jangled and thudded on something. The counter? Maybe it was Adam after all. She took a few more tentative steps until she could see the door at the top of the stairs. No noise came from the main floor.

The artificially cold air shivered with tension. If she called upstairs, at least there would be a noise, something to alert Ben to somebody being in the house.

“Adam, is that you?” Her voice shook as she called out the words. No response. “Adam?”

Still no noise, nothing at all. In the dark and quiet of the hall, it felt like a burial chamber.

“Who’s up there?” she called, louder. If she could just get Ben to hear her.

More footsteps, this time coming in her direction. Her hands gripped the wood. “I’m not alone, you know. My brother-in-law is upstairs.”

A couple more steps. “I’ll call the cops.”

He was right behind the door now, steps away from her. At the bottom of the stairs, she was a fish in a barrel.

“What are you going to tell them? Take him away in cuffs for eating a sandwich in his own home?” Adam’s body filled the doorway, and Stephanie let out her breath. “And he’s not your brother-in-law.”

He walked away from the door, his footsteps louder now. Steph threw the plunger and followed him up the stairs. “You scared me to death. Hi, honey, I’m home? I thought you were –“ her words trailed off.

He looked at her and said nothing. His eyes were impossible to read.

“What is your problem?” She didn’t need him coming in, terrifying her, and then stomping around in a stormy mood. “Wrong side of the bed this morning?”

He walked to the front door and called up the stairs, ignoring her. “Ben! You up?”

“Yup,” came a muffled voice from above.

“You’re going to want to find somewhere to be.” Adam yelled back up, his voice stony. “Right now.”

A door opened and Ben hustled down the stairs, fully dressed and alert. He’d been awake after all. Either that or he was an even lighter sleeper than she thought. “You know, I’ve been thinking I need some new boots.”

Adam handed him a set of keys. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Check a few stores.”

“Yes, sir.” Ben face hardly changed as he accepted the keys. “Maybe I’ll call when I’m done.”

“That would be an excellent idea.” Adam didn’t move as he waited for Ben to leave. They shared a look she couldn’t decipher. Whatever his problem was, it looked like a big one. She went back into the kitchen to wait for them to finish.

She slumped against the pantry as a wave of fatigue hit her. The fight or flight response was draining her. She wandered to the fridge and stared absently inside. A drink. A drink would help.

The front door thunked shut and she grabbed a bottle of water. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Adam taking his wallet and phone out of his pockets, every movement perfectly controlled and icy.

“Come in here and sit down.” His voice held no emotion.

She turned towards him, the bottle cold on her already cold hand. “Are you going to tell me what your problem is?”

“You know, I think I just might.” He crossed his arms over his impossibly broad chest. “Sit.”

“I don’t want to sit.”

He didn’t budge. She went to the sofa and sat.

He kept staring. The comforting scent of beef and spices wafting in from the kitchen became cloying and hung in the air like hot mist.

“You know, Adam, I am really not in the mood for this.”

His jaw was set like marble, his eyes clouded. He was a statue of rage.

* * *

Adam’s fingers gripped his biceps. He would not lose his cool. He would not lose his composure. As angry as he was, he would remain perfectly still. It was like being in the army. Do not move, no matter what. “Does she look like me?”

“I’m sorry?”

His mouth tightened into a thin smile. “I doubt that. You heard me. Does she look like me? My eyes? My nose? Anything at all?”

The features on her face transformed as understanding dawned. She held still for a moment and closed her eyes. “I was going to tell you.” Her voice was tiny, barely a whisper.

He had no understanding of what kind of person could have kept this from someone for so long. “You know, I doubt that, too.”

For a minute, they were both silent. He had no thoughts. His heart pounded in his chest, his head, his stomach. He would not move.

“Adam – “ Her voice broke into the silence. She didn’t continue.

“Yes… honey?” He fought to keep his tone hard. He would not cave. He would not crumble. “You know, I am not interested in having a discussion about this on your terms. I asked a simple question, and I want a simple answer.”

He battled the urge to pace, to yell, to hit something. He would stand his ground. “Is this why you didn’t show me her picture? Because she looks like her dad?”

“I didn’t show you her picture because it didn’t seem relevant.” She dragged her head up, exhaustion deflating her words.

“It didn’t seem relevant. That’s really rich.” He tossed his head back and laughed. “No. No man has ever wanted to see his daughter. That would be irrelevant!”

In the silence, her deep breath out hammered his ears. “It didn’t seem relevant within the context of the discussion.”

 “You lied to me.”

“When did I lie to you?”

“Ever hear of sins of omission? Or were you absent that day?” His head hurt, his jaw was stiff, but he was fueled by his fury. “My daughter is 12 now. I’m sure she understands the concept. Maybe you even explained it to her. Hiding the truth is the same as lying, Steph. “

“Please spare me the lecture. I was going to tell you.”

“Do not go ice queen on me, Stephanie.” His resolve to remain calm was weakening. “When were you planning on bringing it up? College? Wedding? First grandchild? I’m guessing it wasn’t going to be while you were hiding from a psycho under my roof.”

“I just – “ her voice trailed off. Whatever she said next, it had better be good. “I was scared.”

“You get to break the rules because you’re scared? You get to lie and steal because you’re scared? Is that how we do things now? Because you know what? I’m scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. And good people don’t steal things just because they’re scared.”

“I didn’t steal from you.”

“You stole 12 years of my daughter’s life.” The last time he checked, taking something that belonged to someone else and throwing it away forever counted as stealing. Whatever happened when she got to New York, she was not the same woman he knew.

“What was I going to do, call up the recruiting office? Hi, I’m calling in regards to Adam Chase? I’m some girl he knocked up.”

He winced, his insides lurching. “Don’t you dare use those words in my house.” His words came out a growl.

She ignored him. “His wife? No, I’m not his wife. I thought one day I might be, but he had other commitments.” Her eyes locked on his, the blaze back in her eyes. “Anyway, yes. He’s a father now. I know that out of wedlock children are absolutely unheard of in your line of work, so you’ll understand why we should send him home.”

He held her glare and matched it. “It seems to me that it could have been a lot simpler than that.”

“Really? And what would you have recommended I do?”

“You could have called me when you found out you were pregnant. Hey, Adam, I know this might not be a great time, but would you like to see your daughter’s sonogram? Could you pick me up some pickles and ice cream? Would you perhaps like to be present to watch your child enter the world?” His plan to stay in control dissolved as the grief and the anger soaked through him. “Was there a christening? A service of some kind? Did you make up invitations? Maybe make up one of your perfectly alphabetized little lists? What did you do when you got to C?”

She dropped her head forward into her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you have a laugh with your friends? C for Chase, we’ll just skip him?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You see, I’m not sure that you are sorry. I don’t see a woman who’s sorry.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I see a woman who’s sorry she got caught. Did you even think to tell me? Did it even cross your mind?”

She whispered something under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I thought to tell you every day. I didn’t know where you were.”

“I was right here! Do you know how far I have to go to find somebody? Do you know the hours I work? I camp outside crack dens for 24 hours at a stretch. I drink espresso instead of coffee so I don’t have to take bathroom breaks. I turn over every stone. I ask every deadbeat junkie, every ex-girlfriend, every bartender.” He blinked back tears as the force of her deceit and betrayal hit him again. “There is no path I don’t go down to find my guy. How far did you go to find yours?”

“You weren’t my guy anymore, Adam. Your call, not mine.”

She didn’t understand. She’d never understood. “I’m camped outside a crack den for days on end and you could have had me in one phone call.”

“Would you have come?”

He would have gone to hell and back. “I would have come to drag you back home, yes.”

“I didn’t want to be home. I wanted to be in New York. We wanted to be in New York, Adam. You said you wanted it, too.”

“That was before.” That was before it all went wrong. “What kind of a person raises a kid in New York?”

“About a billion people live there. Some of them are children.”

“Are their parents all 18 and unemployed?” He shuddered to think what kind of living conditions they’d been in. “You could have come back here. We could have made it work. It could have been good.”

Her laughter exploded like gunfire. “What would have been good about it? Were we going to play happy family? What, were we going to get married?” The last word came out a mockery. She shot up off the couch and stalked to the window to rip the curtain shut.

“Would being married to me have been so bad? Raising a kid with no money in some rat-hole apartment, a thousand miles away from aunts and uncles and a father? That was better than being married to me?”

He would never know how he could have possibly been so wrong about her.

“You didn’t want me anymore. That came through loud and clear. You weren’t going to start wanting me with thirty extra pounds and a screaming infant.” She was yelling now, her face red and anguished. “You made your choice.”

“I didn’t get a choice. Children need two parents.”

“Children need parents who love each other.”

“She had the right to a father.”

“She had the right to a parent who wanted her.”

“How do you know I didn’t want her? What right do you have to decide that for me?”

“You didn’t want me.” She spat the words out, but her eyes were devastated. “What was it, Adam? Daddy told you that it’s time to be the man of the house and our whole future is gone? Because that’s sure what it looked like from the outside.”

“Daddy? Don’t talk to me about daddy.”

“Whatever, Adam. Go ahead. Play that card. You have issues with your father. I know. I was there.”

“Do not bring my father into this. Did it ever occur to you that I might like to be a daddy?” The tears that had been there had frozen in place, not falling but not drying up. His throat was so tight. “Because my daughter is 12 years old now. I’m not really sure how 12-year-olds talk these days, but they don’t tend to call their fathers ‘daddy’, do they? Especially fathers they were never allowed to meet because their mother decided to steal him from them.”

“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this.”

“Of course you don’t. You can just run away. That’s the pattern. That’s what you do.” He was cruel and he didn’t care. She was crueler. “Nobody is ever going to call me Daddy and that is nobody’s fault but yours. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

She didn’t even flinch from the blow. “Your father had a stroke and you ditched everything. You threw away our entire future and you didn’t even care.”

Of course that’s what she’d think. “You threw away 13 years and you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

They were talking in circles now. He couldn’t afford to let his anger boil any more. He regretted ever laying eyes on her. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m have to work. Think about when I’ll get to meet my daughter.”

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