The Stranger's Sin

“I don’t think she’s coming back for him,” Chase said.

“That could be,” his father said. “That girl wasn’t much of a mother.”

His father should know. During the two months Mandy had lived with them in Indigo Springs, his dad had spent more time with Toby than Mandy had.

Chase drew in a breath, then put into words the conclusion he’d reached while lying in bed. “I need to contact the Department of Public Welfare.”

“No! That’s a terrible idea,” his father cried. “Where’s this coming from? Did something happen tonight?”

“Yes and no,” Chase said. “It’s just that the librarian who set up my speech asked a lot of questions.”

His father put a hand to his head and groaned, then sank into a chair beside Chase. “I forgot about your speech.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“You don’t usually need me on your day off, but I still should have remembered.” He grimaced. “You had to take Toby with you, didn’t you?”

“I tried some of the neighbors but nobody could watch him,” Chase said.

“How was he?”

“Noisy. The librarian took him outside for me, then she quizzed me about Mandy. Turns out Mandy used to come into the library to read magazines.”

“I’m sorry,” his father said, but still didn’t offer an explanation for where he’d been. Odd. His father had to know Chase wanted him to get out of the house and go somewhere besides the river with his fishing pole.

“Where were you anyway?” Chase asked finally.

“Nowhere special.” His father added hurriedly, “Why would some librarian asking questions about Toby make you think you have to go to DPW?”

Chase opted not to repeat the question he’d asked his strangely secretive father. “Because she’s not the only one. Mandy’s been gone for almost three weeks. Sooner or later, someone will figure out we don’t have legal custody.”

“We won’t have legal custody if you go to DPW, either,” his father pointed out. “The agency would.”

“Yeah,” Chase said, “but it’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do,” his father muttered, running a hand over his lower face. “You’re just like your mother. She was always going on about right and wrong, as though it was easy to see the difference.”

“It is easy,” Chase said.

“Not true. What if DPW takes Toby away from us? Think about it, Chase. You work long, unpredictable hours, and I’m sixty-seven years old. Toby’s a normal, healthy baby. Do you know how many couples out there are looking to adopt a baby like him?”

“Toby’s not up for adoption, Dad. I’m thinking we could ask to be his foster parents. He’s lived with us for two months. It wouldn’t make sense to move him.”

His father’s head shook vehemently. “It’s too much of a risk. There’s no way you can know for sure that DPW wouldn’t take Toby away from us.”

That possibility was what had driven Chase to the kitchen in search of the warm milk he couldn’t drink. If Louise Wiesneski were a social worker instead of a librarian, Chase doubted she’d let Toby continue to live with him and his father. She clearly didn’t think much of his parenting ability.

“I know you want to do the right thing, but look at it this way,” his father continued. “The right thing for Toby is to stay with us.”

“We can’t just keep him indefinitely, Dad,” Chase said. “Sooner or later, I need to go to the authorities.”

“Then make it later. Three weeks is too soon to be sure she isn’t coming back.”

“It’s getting there.”

“Okay, then let’s say she isn’t coming back. Mandy told you she didn’t have any family, right? That means she left Toby for you to raise. So find her and get her to give you custody.”

After his father went to sleep, Chase sat at the kitchen table, his hands cradling the now-cooled milk, trying to figure out what to do.

Find her, his father had advised.

The directive wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been. He’d made a couple of stabs at it already, but he had no credit-card information to trace or phone numbers to track down. He’d checked his phone bills and Mandy hadn’t made any long-distance calls while she was living with him. He’d even taken a short trip to Harrisburg, but the employees of the bar where they’d met claimed not to know her. The clerk at the hotel where she’d rented a room said she’d paid in cash.

Looking back on it, Mandy had been closemouthed about her past and Chase hadn’t spent much time getting her to open up. He’d been too busy trying to get along with her.

So how could he go about finding a woman he didn’t know anything about?

CHAPTER THREE

I NDIGO S PRINGS TURNED OUT to be a picturesque town in the Pocono Mountains, with charming stone buildings lining a hilly main street that provided stunning views of the surrounding area.

The lush green of the valley mingled with the majesty of the mountains and the blue backdrop of the sky. Kelly would have felt as if she’d been transported to the pages of a storybook if she hadn’t been searching for the only person who could keep her out of prison.

The clerk behind the counter at the busy ice-cream shop shook her head and tried to give the color sketch Kelly had done of Amanda back to her.

“Are you sure she’s not at least a little familiar?” Kelly shifted her heavy backpack, repeating the same question she’d used on the string of clerks and receptionists in the stores along the town’s main street. “It’s not a perfect likeness.”

“I’ll be glad to look at it again.” The clerk had a matronly figure and a round, pleasant face, with big eyes that narrowed when she concentrated. After a few moments, she muttered, “Come to think of it, something about her does seem familiar.”

Kelly’s heart gave a hopeful leap. Finally, after hours of frustration, this could be the break she’d been waiting for. She held her breath as though even the simple act of exhaling might ruin the clerk’s concentration. Time seemed to lengthen, and the swirl of conversation dimmed, taking a back seat to the drama.

“I’ve got it!” the clerk said decisively. Her gaze lifted. “She looks like you.”

The air left Kelly’s lungs, the hope that her long shot was about to pay off fading along with it. This wasn’t the first time today Kelly had experienced the same swing of emotions. A half dozen other people had also pointed out the resemblance. Kelly was beginning to understand how the eyewitness had mistakenly picked her out of a photo lineup.

“It’s not me.” Kelly took back the sketch. “But thanks for looking at it.”

“Well, I hope you find her,” the clerk said kindly. “Do you mind me asking why you’re searching for her?”

“I have something of hers,” Kelly said. Before she could expand on her answer, the door banged open, admitting a noisy, laughing family of four.

“I want chocolate chip.” The smaller of the two children, a thin, dark-haired girl of about three years old, skipped up to the counter, flashing an adorable smile. Her mother immediately followed, placing hands on the girl’s shoulders to hold her back.

“You have to wait your turn, sweetie,” she said.

“Why?” the girl asked, eyes big and wide.

As the mother explained, the clerk laughed, then told Kelly, “We’ve been really busy this week with the Fourth of July weekend coming up. Can I get you something?”