Inhaling, I inclined my face, relishing his touch. “Don’t tell me how he died. I don’t want to know what you did.”
Reid nodded and offered me his hand. “Let’s go sit down and I’ll tell you what we learned.”
Reid
As Lorna and I walked back to the living room, I hit a button, bringing our fireplace to life. While the autumn weather was bringing a chill to Chicago, our apartment was warm. The fire I’d just started wasn’t for heat but because I knew my wife and her affinity for warmth, color, and light. The orange and yellow flames sparked as we sat upon the sofa. Ignoring my sore ribs, I wrapped my arm around Lorna’s shoulders and pulled her to my side as we both stared into the flames.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Lorna nodded. “I think that maybe my flashes of a dark-haired man brought back things I’d forgotten or packed away about Maples.” Turning, her green stare met my own. “I want you to know that I never purposely hid that from you. I had” —she shrugged— “I guess, hidden it from myself.”
“Now that you remember, were there others who hurt you?”
Lifting her chin, I watched as the flames from across the room reflected in her eyes. “Reid Murray, it isn’t your job to right every wrong in my life.”
“It might not be my job. It is my passion—you are. If I could go back in time and change the circumstances you and Mason dealt with at too young of an age, I would.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“How can you say that?”
Lorna sighed, turning back to the fire and leaning against me. “I was talking with Madeline earlier today. If anyone has reason to wish for a do-over in their life, it would be her, and today she said that she wouldn’t change a thing because that road led to where she is today. I feel the same.” She turned as a smile curled her lips. “In the last month, I was kidnapped and today you were shot, but we’re here right now. That’s what matters, not the past.”
“You’re fucking amazing.”
Sighing, Lorna turned back to the fire. “To answer your question, I don’t think there were—others. I really don’t. After we moved from Mr. Maples’s house, we lived in that one-room apartment I’ve mentioned.” She stilled for a moment. “I think I talk about it because it was the first place that seemed like a home after our grandmother died. And then after Missy disappeared, Mason and I were pretty inseparable. Even as a preteen, he was always overprotective. I was of him too. After losing Missy, we didn’t want to lose each other.”
“So, Nancy never had men visit?”
“There were men now and then who would show up at our door at any given time, but for the most part Nancy kept them away.” Lorna shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes she’d stay away for days or even a week. I don’t know if she went to hotels, made house calls, or what. At the time, Mace and I would go on as if she were there.”
“Why?”
“There was always a fear of being taken away.”
“She didn’t deserve to have you.”
“Maybe not,” Lorna said, “but if we were taken by DCFS, Mason and I were afraid we’d be separated.”
My wife tensed under my embrace. “What is it?”
“That was what she told me.” Lorna sat forward. “Yeah, that’s why I couldn’t tell anyone about Mr. Maples. If I did, the people would take me away.”
My jaw clenched as I considered the injustice of placing that responsibility on a child. “Lorna, it wasn’t your responsibility to keep that secret any more than it was your and Mason’s responsibility to take care of yourselves.”
“As I got older, I realized my mother’s disappearances were probably related to substance intake. There were times she’d come back and act like she’d been there that morning when in reality it had been a week. It was like time disappeared to her.”
I took a deep breath. “Like I said, Gordon Maples admitted to having seen your mother in the last five years.”
“I don’t understand why she’d go back to him.”
“Maybe she ran out of options. I doubt we’ll ever know,” I admitted, hating that we had so many unanswered questions.
Lorna sighed. “I also don’t understand how she ended up with me in Montana.”
“We don’t know that yet. However, we may have one source of information.”
“Zella?”
I nodded. “Mason set her and the kid up at a halfway house; essentially, he currently has her on house arrest.”
“She can’t leave?”
“Not alive.”
Lorna sucked in a breath.
“Sweetheart, Zella played a role in my shooting. The only reason she’s not dead now is because we plan to question her.”
“I shouldn’t feel bad. She was never nice to any of us.”
“Right now,” I said, “Zella and the kid are being guarded by trusted Sparrows. Honestly, I don’t recall what happened at the scene after I was shot. Mason said he plans to question her.” My cheeks rose. “Your brother has a knack for getting answers.”
Lorna shook her head. “I don’t want to know those details either.”
As memories returned of previous inquisitions, I was certain I didn’t want to tell my wife what her brother was capable of doing. “Let’s just say he’s persuasive.”
“Zella never liked our mother.” Lorna wrapped her arms around her midsection. “I can’t see them cohabitating unless it involved drugs.” Her nose wrinkled. “We should look to see if she has needle marks. I didn’t see any, did you?”
“I didn’t look that closely, but no.” I took a deep breath. “There’s something else we learned.”
“What?” my wife asked as she turned back to me.
“Maples mentioned that at one time your mother received payments from a Mexican named Garcia.”
“A Mexican?”
“His description, not mine.”
“Why would anyone...” Her body stiffened. “Oh, wait. Remember my dream? It seems more and more that it was real. If it was, Nancy told me that she sold Missy.” Her words came faster and faster. “Missy looked different than me and Mason. Her skin and hair were darker. I never noticed until we went to school and people made comments. Grandma would say that God made everyone unique.” Lorna stood. “This is all making sense. Missy was half-Latina, and I recall Nancy saying she sold her to her birth father.”
I nodded. “It does seem to connect dots.”
My wife spun in place, the palms of her hands slapping her jean-clad thighs. “Reid, don’t you get it? We have a name. What did you say, Garcia?”
“Do you have any idea how common that name is?”
“But it’s a name.” Plopping back down beside me, Lorna reached for my hand. “Please tell me you’ll work on this. Reid Murray, you can do anything when it comes to information. Find Missy Garcia.”
Tears filled her eyes, and for the first time in weeks, they weren’t of despair or fear but of hope. I refused to be the one to dampen this new positive emotion.