CHAPTER 23
“I think I found Pam Middleton’s long-lost daughter,” Hayley told Kitally. “If this is the right woman, the girl’s name is now Christina Bradley.”
Kitally headed across the room and hovered over her. “How the heck did you find her? I’ve called every child-care service provider in Sacramento. Most of them wouldn’t give out any information unless I was a parent or an attorney. The few people who didn’t care about rules and regulations had no one in their records by the name of Debra Blatt.”
“I decided to use the hospital where she was born and her birth date instead of her name,” Hayley said. “Then I followed a paper trail of foster homes and sent out a dozen emails. I just received a response from a woman who said all the information I gave her matched a girl she roomed with named Debra Blatt. She said that when Debra turned eighteen, she had her name legally changed to Christina Bradley.”
“Lizzy is going to be happy about this. You might have just saved a young girl’s life.”
“Don’t get too high and don’t get too low,” Hayley said. “Even if we find Christina Bradley, we don’t know if she’ll be a match.”
Hayley continued to clack away at the keyboard. A Facebook page for Christina Bradley popped up on her screen.
“Looks like she put herself through college,” Kitally said.
Hayley nodded. “Look at all the congratulations. She’s engaged to be married.”
“Considering how rough her life started out, she looks like she’s gotten it together.”
Hayley shrugged. “Everybody’s life looks shiny and happy on Facebook.” She scrolled down. “She runs a day care center in Citrus Heights.”
“I have to run another surveillance on Mr. Chalkor,” Kitally said. “Do you want me to stop by the day care on my way? See if she’s there?”
“No, I’ve got this. You take care of Chalkor. I’ll talk to Christina.”
Hayley pulled her Chevy into the parking lot of a strip mall off Birdcage and quickly found an empty spot. The battered beast of a car sputtered and jerked before the engine fell silent. The day care center was dark blue with white shutters. Long blades of bright-green grass had been painted all around the base at the front of the building, making it appear as if grass were growing right out of the pavement.
The moment Hayley walked inside she was assaulted by noise.
A half wall, three feet high and painted the colors of the rainbow, separated the front desk from a thousand-square-foot room filled with small tables and chairs, games, and lots of kids. Hayley had never been in a day care center before. It wasn’t anything like Child Services. These kids were actually having fun.
A woman in her early twenties stood near the front desk. She was on the phone and held up a finger to let Hayley know she’d be a minute.
A high-pierced scream caused every nerve inside Hayley’s body to tense. Pain or joy? Who the hell knew?
The girl finished her phone conversation and said, “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Christina Bradley.”
“She’s around here somewhere. Let me find her for you.”
By the time the young woman helped a little girl with her drawing and then stopped two boys in the middle of a tug-of-war over a toy car, two other ladies had entered the room through a back door. The three women exchanged a few words, and then one of them looked over the sea of little heads and caught Hayley’s gaze. She was about five-four, wore a rainbow T-shirt and jeans, and had her light-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail. Even before she headed Hayley’s way, Hayley knew she’d found Christina Bradley. She looked just like Pam Middleton.
Christina introduced herself, then said, “If you’re looking for a job, we don’t have any openings right now.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Hayley said. “Is there somewhere, a room maybe, where we could talk privately?”
“I’m unusually busy right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
“It’s about your biological mom, Pam Middleton. She’s looking for you.”
Christina paled.
“Are you all right?”
Christina’s hand fell to her chest. “You caught me off guard, but I’ll be fine. Why don’t we go to my office, after all?”
Hayley followed her through a door and into a small windowless office. “Have a seat,” Christina said.
Hayley did exactly that.
“Pam Middleton,” Christina said. “Is that her name?”
Hayley nodded.
“What’s she like?”
“I’ve only met her once, for less than ten minutes. She looks a lot like you. She talks fast, and she comes across as a little uptight.”
Christina appeared to be holding back a smile. “Do you work for the adoption agency?”
“No. I’m with Lizzy Gardner Investigations in Sacramento.”
“How did you find me?”
“Yours was a closed adoption, which made things more difficult. I talked to your father, Dan Blatt, and your grandmother—”
“He’s not my father. I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk about those people.”
“I understand.”
Christina folded her arms in front of her. “So how long has this Pam Middleton been looking for me?”
“As far as I know, at least a couple of weeks.”
Christina audibly exhaled. “Do you know why?”
“Yes.”
“That bad, huh?”
Hayley didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
“Go ahead and tell me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“The whole story or just the bottom line?” Hayley asked.
“Sum it up nice and neat for me, if you can.”
Hayley obliged. “Your mother had you when she was sixteen. She and her boyfriend decided they weren’t ready to raise a child, so they gave you up for adoption. Years later, they married and had another child. A daughter. She’s sick and she needs a bone marrow transplant. If you’re a match, you could be her only hope.”
Christina came to her feet, seemed to struggle to take her next breath. “Wow, you sure know how to tell it like it is, don’t you?”
Hayley remained silent.
After a long moment, Christina said, “So. Based on what you just told me, Pam Middleton would never have sought me out if it wasn’t for her sick daughter.”
“I wouldn’t want to speculate.”
Christina took a deep breath and then blew it out and began to pace the room. “Both my parents are together and they never looked for me.” She looked at Hayley, her hands rolled into tight fists at her sides. It was easy to see that she was fighting all sorts of crazy emotions. “How old is she . . . the sick girl?”
“Sixteen.”
“Have you met her?”
“No.”
She nodded and kept nodding as she paced. “God, I just feel like screaming. This is so out of the blue.”
The door opened, and the young woman Hayley had talked to when she’d first entered the building asked Christina if everything was all right.
“I’m fine, thanks, but I’m going to need a few more minutes. Is everything OK out there?”
“We’re fine. Take your time.”
After she left, Christina returned to her seat. Another minute passed before she propped both elbows on her desk and let her head fall into her open palms. When she looked up again, she apologized and said, “I don’t know if I can do it.”
Hayley put a business card on Christina’s desk and slid it toward her. “Why don’t you take some time to think about it?”
“Is the girl in the hospital?”
“Yes. Sutter General Hospital, on the fourth floor. Your sister’s name is Kirsten Middleton.”
“I don’t have a sister.”
Hayley nodded.
“How much time does she have?”
“Not much.”
Christina stiffened. “I’m serious. I really don’t think I can help her.”
“I understand,” Hayley said again.
“Do you really?”
Hayley took a moment to think about that. “No, I guess you’re right. I don’t.”
“What would you do?”
Hayley hated these sorts of questions. Hypothetical bullshit, but she hadn’t come all this way for nothing. “Not everyone gets a chance to be a hero,” Hayley told her. “I’d like to think I would rise to the occasion and do whatever needed to be done, but who the hell knows? Maybe telling Pam Middleton to fuck off would feel a lot better than saving someone you’ve never met.”
Silence.
“Ultimately,” Hayley added, “nobody can make this decision for you.”
“Is it dangerous . . . you know . . . donating bone marrow or whatever it is she would need?”
“From what I’ve read about bone marrow donation, it’s mostly a time commitment. Every surgical procedure has risks.”
“I’m getting married in four weeks.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“Nobody is going to judge you if you don’t do this,” Hayley said.
“No? Cancel my wedding to save a life or let the girl die and find a way to think happy thoughts on my honeymoon?”
“You might not be a match,” Hayley told her, “and then you won’t have to make the decision at all.”
“But what if I am?”
Hayley said nothing, let a solid minute of silence settle between them before coming to her feet. “I think you should do what’s right for you and nobody else.” She gestured toward the card she’d left on the desk. “If you need to vent or you want someone to go to the hospital with you or to set up a meeting with Pam Middleton, call me anytime.”