Chapter 4 - THE BABY WHO LEFT WITHOUT HER MOTHER
“Vanessa was involved four years ago?” Gabriel asked.
His voice was so calm that Rachel found it more frightening than anger.
Eleanor stared at the signature.
“That isn't possible. Vanessa wasn't employed by the hospital.”
The administrator adjusted his glasses.
“She wasn't listed as staff. She was listed as Heather Miller's authorized family representative.”
Gabriel looked up.
“Family representative?”
“Yes. The document identifies her as Heather's cousin.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Vanessa told me she'd never met Daniel's family.”
Gabriel remembered Vanessa first arriving at the estate three years earlier.
She'd presented herself as a successful charity organizer.
She had been attentive to Margaret, gracious with guests, and unusually interested in Gabriel's family history.
Gabriel had mistaken curiosity for affection.
“Where is Vanessa now?” he asked Marco.
“Waiting in the hospital's east conference room.”
“Keep her there if she agrees. Otherwise, don't interfere with her leaving. Preserve the evidence.”
Rachel stared at him.
“You're letting her walk away?”
“I'm not going to give her a reason to claim we threatened her.”
Gabriel turned to Eleanor.
“Tell us exactly what happened four years ago.”
Eleanor clasped her trembling hands.
“Heather arrived at the hospital under another surname. She was frightened. She said someone had been following her.”
“Who?”
“She wouldn't tell me.”
Gabriel leaned closer.
“Did she know who she really was?”
“She knew she'd been adopted. She suspected Margaret had arranged it. But she didn't know the whole story.”
“And the locket?”
“She wore it around her neck. She said a woman had mailed it to her.”
“Who?”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
“Your father.”
Gabriel stared.
“Impossible. He was dead by then.”
“He'd arranged for a package to be delivered on her twenty-third birthday. Someone held it until the date written in his instructions.”
Gabriel remembered his father's final years.
Anthony Moretti had become quiet.
He'd spent long evenings alone, staring at family photographs.
Once, shortly before his death, he'd asked Gabriel whether children could forgive parents for mistakes they never understood.
Gabriel had assumed he meant their difficult relationship.
Now he wondered whether the question had been about Heather.
Rachel reached across the table.
“What happened to my baby?”
Eleanor looked at her with deep regret.
“Rachel, Heather believed Catherine was helping her escape Margaret's influence. Catherine told Heather the babies needed temporary protection.”
“Protection from whom?”
“Margaret.”
Gabriel frowned.
“If Catherine worked for Margaret, why warn Heather?”
“Because Catherine had begun fearing what Margaret might do if Heather exposed the original adoption.”
Rachel shook her head.
“So Catherine took my daughter instead?”
“Yes. But I didn't know another infant had been included until later.”
“And where did she go?”
Eleanor swallowed.
“I saw Catherine carry a baby out through the private discharge entrance. She had a yellow blanket.”
Rachel pressed a hand against her mouth.
She remembered buying a yellow blanket at a department store before Emma's birth.
Daniel had embroidered a tiny blue star in one corner.
It had disappeared from the hospital.
Catherine had told her the laundry service must have misplaced it.
“Was there a blue star?” Rachel whispered.
Eleanor stared.
“Yes.”
Rachel broke.
Gabriel stood beside her as she cried.
For four years, she had blamed herself for losing a blanket.
Now she understood that someone had carried her daughter away wrapped inside it.
After several minutes, Rachel wiped her eyes.
“Where did Catherine take her?”
“I saw a vehicle waiting outside. The driver was a woman named Allison Reed.”
Gabriel turned toward the admission log.
“Allison delivered a baby that day.”
“Yes.”
“Then why was she driving?”
Eleanor hesitated.
“Because Allison wasn't a patient.”
Gabriel stared.
“What?”
“She'd registered as one using maternity paperwork transferred from another facility. Catherine needed a third infant record to hide the transfers.”
Rachel felt dizzy.
“So there were only two mothers?”
“Yes. Rachel and Heather. The third record was used to create a replacement identity.”
Gabriel examined the paperwork.
A forged registration.
A false discharge.
And an additional birth certificate application that could make a child disappear into an entirely different family.
“Was Allison working for Margaret?” he asked.
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“She had handled confidential arrangements for the Moretti foundation.”
Gabriel remembered Allison Reed.
A former social worker.
She'd coordinated adoptions for disadvantaged families.
Margaret had praised her work frequently.
Until Allison abruptly resigned three years earlier.
“Where is Allison?”
Eleanor looked toward the window.
“I believe she's living in Vermont.”
Gabriel turned to Marco.
“Locate her through lawful records. Have counsel request preservation of everything relating to those transfers.”
Marco nodded.
Then a nurse entered.
“Mr. Moretti? Catherine Whitmore is awake. She's asked for her daughter.”
Gabriel looked toward Vanessa's conference room.
He found her standing beside the window.
For once, she wasn't smiling.
“You had no right to stop my mother's paperwork,” she said.
Gabriel closed the door.
“You signed authorization to discharge my sister's baby four years ago.”
Vanessa's face changed.
Then she straightened.
“I helped a frightened woman.”
“By taking her daughter?”
“She believed someone was going to hurt the child.”
“Who?”
Vanessa looked away.
Gabriel placed a copy of the hospital document on the table.
“You told Rachel you'd never met Daniel's family.”
“Because Heather wasn't someone I could talk about.”
“Why?”
Vanessa's eyes filled unexpectedly.
“Because your stepmother made her life miserable.”
Gabriel stopped.
Vanessa continued.
“You think I enjoyed helping Margaret? I was twenty-seven, Gabriel. My mother told me Heather was unstable, that she couldn't safely care for a newborn.”
“Did you believe her?”
“I believed my mother.”
“And Rachel?”
Vanessa's voice weakened.
“I didn't know whose baby Rachel took home. I swear.”
Gabriel stared at her.
“Then why did you humiliate Emma tonight?”
Vanessa looked at the floor.
“Because I recognized her.”
“From where?”
“My mother kept a photograph of Heather's baby.”
Gabriel felt his chest tighten.
“Emma?”
Vanessa nodded.
“The eyes. That birthmark. She looked exactly like the child in the picture.”
“Then why call her a thief?”
Vanessa's tears spilled.
“Because Margaret was at dinner, and I knew she was watching.”
Gabriel remembered the seating arrangement.
Margaret had canceled her trip to Palm Beach.
She had attended dinner quietly, seated near the rear of the ballroom.
He hadn't noticed her leaving.
“Where is Margaret?” Gabriel demanded.
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Gabriel called Marco.
“Find her.”
But Rachel had already appeared in the doorway.
She held a photograph taken from Catherine's belongings.
In it stood Heather Miller, visibly pregnant, outside St. Mary's.
Beside her was a little boy holding a red toy truck.
Rachel's hands trembled.
“I know this boy.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Who is he?”
“Daniel used to visit him before he died. He told me the child's mother needed help.”
“Where is he now?”
Rachel looked up.
“Gabriel, his name is Oliver. And he lives with my father.”
Gabriel stared at her.
Rachel's father had been raising a little boy for nearly four years.
A child Rachel believed belonged to a distant family friend.
Then Rachel turned the photograph over.
May you like
Written in Daniel's familiar handwriting were five words.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS, PROTECT BOTH CHILDREN.
