“The delights of being a civil servant,” Sean said, earning him a droll smile from Glenda.
“Oh yeah,” she chortled. “Goes right along with our company jet and twelve weeks of paid vacation.” Her eyes were once again drawn to Justyn’s photo and she immediately sobered. “I called down to Records with the young man’s request and explained that this was one of Melissa Plume’s cases. I didn’t think I’d done any harm by mentioning her name, but now…” Her eyes grew moist and she gave Sean a pathetic, searching look.
“You’re not at fault, Glenda. Please go on,” Sean said soothingly.
Recovering her poise, Glenda sat up a little taller in her chair. “My coworker in Records said that the name the young man had given wasn’t listed in our files, and when I turned to ask him about it, he’d disappeared. I wonder if he ran off because he heard what my colleague said. She’s one of those loud talkers.” She gave a hapless shrug. “Though he put Justyn on the form, the last name he gave us wasn’t in our records and neither was his address. Maybe he knew he’d have to tell me the truth about his identity and he just…couldn’t.” She swallowed hard.
“Go on,” Sean prompted.
“When I found out that Melissa was murdered, I started wondering if the young man’s deception had some significance.” Glenda looked at Sean hopefully. “Or it could be that he was just scared. It’s not easy for some of these kids to face their birth mothers, especially if they’ve spent their whole lives dreaming about the moment they’ll meet for the first time.”
I shook my head in sympathy. “Talk about a high-pressure situation.”
“Exactly,” Glenda agreed and then quickly brightened. “But I’ve seen some beautiful reunions in my time. And I’ve also seen foster parents fall in love with a child in need of a home and discover the family they’ve always longed for. Family’s in the heart, not the blood. That’s what I always say.”
Sean opened a notebook and subtly cleared his throat, hoping to get back to the subject at hand. “According to Justyn’s case file, his last name was Kershaw, but do you remember the fake surname he used on his request form?”
“No,” Glenda replied with genuine regret. “After he left, I threw it out. I figured if he really wanted to contact his birth mother he’d be back.”
“A fair assumption,” Sean said kindly. “Could you describe his appearance?”
Glenda let loose a small snort. “Sure could. He was tall and thin, but didn’t look scrawny. ‘Lean’ is a better word. Dark hair and eyes.” She raised her hand to her brow. “Bunch of piercings here. Silver hoops and a few barbell thingies, too. I’m not sure what they’re called. Dressed all black from his shirt right on down to his boots. And he seemed uncomfortable in his own skin. Real tense. On edge.”
“I’d like to show you a sketch. Does this look like the man you saw?” He removed the drawing made the day I’d worked with the sketch artist at the Dunston police station.
Glenda didn’t even have it in her hands before she was nodding vigorously. “That’s him all right.”
“Thank you. That’s very helpful.” I was amazed by how calm Sean sounded. My heart was beating triple time in my chest. Glenda had just identified Kirk Mason!
“I’ll see what I can find out about Justyn Kershaw,” Sean said, reclaiming the sketch and tucking it inside his file folder. I was relieved when he closed the cover on Mason’s angry glare. “But if I come up empty-handed, I might need your assistance again.”
Glenda’s glance flicked to the photo of Justyn as a boy, and I saw her eyes fill with pity. “I’ll do anything in my power to help, Officer.”
“What about Justyn’s birth mother, Mattie Kershaw?” Sean asked. “I read that she was a drug addict and had been arrested several times for illegal possession and misdemeanor shoplifting charges. But can you tell me anything else about her?”
“I wish I could, but she was assigned to Melissa. The only thing I could add to what she wrote in her files probably won’t be of any interest to you,” Glenda said.
I might have been overstepping my bounds, but I leaned forward in my chair and smiled encouragingly at Glenda. “So far, everything you’ve told us has been important. I bet this detail will be, too.”
She gave me a grateful look in return. “It was a long time ago, but I remember Melissa telling me that she was really struggling over how to help this lost young girl named Matilda. I know she went by Mattie, but Matilda was her real name. However, Melissa called her something else entirely. Only to me, of course. Only in private.”
Sean’s pen hovered over his notebook. “And what was that?”
“Troublesome Tilly,” Glenda replied. Grinning a little, her face took on a wistful expression as she traveled to another time in which she and Melissa discussed their cases with each other.