"I am happy. I'm doing exactly what I want." A wistful sigh escaped her lips. "I just wish I'd had the chance to tell Mom and Dad. I'd started searching before ... the accident. I wanted their blessing."
"Your parents would have encouraged you, Addison."
Emotion swept through her, and for a moment she had to blink back unexpected tears. God, she missed them. "I know," she said quietly. ''Thanks for reminding me."
Gretchen busied herself wiping the counter with the ever-present towel she kept tucked into the pocket of her apron. "Well, are you going to keep me in the dark or tell me what you've been working on?"
Excitement rippled through Addison. It felt good to talk about her search and everything she'd accomplished in the last nine months. "I found a new Web site on the Internet last night."
"Be careful out in cyberspace, honey. You know what happened to Sandra Bullock in that movie."
Addison pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "I drove up to the cabin last weekend."
Gretchen stopped wiping and looked at her. "I wish you'd told me. I would have gone with you."
"I needed to do it on my own. I should have gone through their things months ago, Gretch. I couldn't put it off any longer. Anyway, when I was looking through Dad's desk I found some old papers."
"On the adoption?"
Addison nodded, remembering her shock upon discovering the tattered file in the bottom drawer of her father's desk. The documents inside were the only clues her parents had left behind.
"I was born in Dayton, Ohio. My birth mother relinquished me when 1 was three days old. According to one of the documents, my original name was Colleen Glass."
"Odd to think of you as anybody besides Addison Fox."
"It's a strange feeling to know my name and identity, my very fate changed in the span of a single day."
"At least you have a name to go on."
"I've contacted every Glass in and around Dayton with no luck." Addison sighed, remembering with painful clarity the frustration and heartache each time she came up empty-handed.
"You're the only person I know who considers the City Directory quality reading."
Thankful she had Gretchen to keep her sane, Addison laughed. "I've taken the search about as far as I can."
"What about that ambulance chaser you hired?"
She bit back the need to defend. "Jim Bernstein's only charging me for expenses, since he and Dad were friends."
Knowing the information she was about to relay wouldn't be well received, Addison braced. "I have an appointment to speak with a private detective this morning."
Gretchen cut her a sharp look. "Someone reputable, I hope."
Smiling at a customer who'd brought a set of musical Christmas mugs to the counter, Addison started for the cash register. "Jim recommended him."
Gretchen rolled her eyes and followed. "That's supposed to make me feel better?" she muttered in a low tone. "Lawyers. You can't trust them as far as you can throw them."
"I trust Jim."
"As long as you're not expecting Tom Selleck in a Hawaiian shirt."
"Hawaiian shirt or not, a private investigator may be able to cut through some of the red tape I haven't been able to unravel." Addison counted out change and handed it to the customer.
"Cut through your checkbook, more likely."
"Give me a little credit, Gretch. I'm a businesswoman. I can handle this." Glancing at her watch, Addison frowned. "I've got to get going."
"Don't sign anything," Gretchen warned.
Hoping for a quick escape, Addison snagged her purse and headed for the alley door. "Can you get by without me for an hour or so? I'll be back before the lunch rush."
"If you're not back by noon, I'm calling the cops."
From the door, Addison shot Gretchen a wry smile. "Better make it the S.W.A.T. team. I hear Jack Talbot's as crazy as he is good."
*
He remembered the chill, the kind that seeped through the skin to permeate muscle and bone and sent the body into involuntary shivers. The moment he left the chopper, he smelled the fire, that horrible stench he'd inhaled too many times to ever forget. Around him the air was heavy, cold, and wet. The jagged horizon above the trees was barely visible, and full darkness would soon fall, a black cloak trapping him with the dead.
Emanating from the darkness beyond, a symphony of chain saws worked in unison to clear the trees so the emergency vehicles could pass. He'd never felt more alone as he walked toward the wreckage of Allegiance Air flight 335. It was as though he was traveling through a vacuum, devoid of sound and light, his senses assaulted instead by unspeakable stimuli. Silently, he repeated the only line he could recall from a psalm he'd memorized as a boy. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . .