My frame was not hidden from You, When I was made in secret, And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them.
The passage resonated through her, all the way to her marrow. Her child was unique, as was Liam himself. So where did that leave how she saw Liam in Jesse? Her heart knew her husband. Knew the imprint of his spirit, just as God had formed him. She knew him as she would know her child the instant she held the babe.
She thought back through the progression of the past few months. Her husband’s mangled frame after he’d been thrown clear of the car after the bomb went off. There hadn’t been anything left of his face, no distinguishing marks. The germ of an idea grew, and she gasped. Was it possible the men had been misidentified? That couldn’t happen these days, could it? She thought the police had run a DNA test.
Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed. How had the two men even been identified? The police had said the man behind the wheel was the owner of the car, but what if Liam had asked to drive even though she didn’t want him to? He’d been aching to get behind the wheel of that sports car. It was possible.
Would Detective Adams help her if she took a strand of Jesse’s hair to him? Though this idea might be dotty, it wasn’t as dotty as thinking Liam’s spirit had transferred to Jesse. She slipped down the hall to the room where Jesse had slept. His hairbrush was on the stand. She pulled out the hair clumped in it and stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans.
She went outside to find Barry. He was telling the foreman all he wanted done on the summerhouse. Dark circles crouched under his bloodshot eyes. She doubted he’d gotten any sleep last night. It had been nearly four by the time he returned from the city. Without his mother. She’d gone to his condo near the Battery.
Just as well. Alanna wasn’t sure what she could say to her. Patricia wouldn’t want her condolences—not when she blamed Alanna for more stress on Richard.
Barry saw her coming and a smile lifted his mouth. “I didn’t know you were up, sugar.”
She reached his side and took his hand. “Did you go to bed at all?”
“No. Too much to do.” He motioned to the clouds off to the east. “Heard there were hurricane warnings issued. I’m going to have them board the windows.”
“A hurricane?”
He nodded. “So you stay close to the house.”
She didn’t nod and hoped he wouldn’t notice. “Have you talked to your mother this morning?”
“I thought I’d let her sleep if she would. She’ll call me when she awakens. We need to go to the funeral home to pick out the casket and make arrangements.” He delivered the statement in a deadpan voice.
She winced, knowing his emotionless attitude was all that would get him through the day. “I’m so sorry, Barry.”
He draped his arm around her shoulders. “I know you are. So am I. But we knew Father had a heart condition. It was only a matter of time.” He dropped a kiss on her brow as his cell phone rang.
He turned away from her and answered it. “Hello, Mother, how are you this morning?” He listened a few moments. “I’ll be there right away.” He put his phone back into his shirt pocket and faced Alanna. “I’ve got to go. Mother is ready to go to the funeral home.”
Alanna nodded, wanting to ask his permission to use one of the cars. But why bother him with such a petty request? She’d be back before he knew she was even gone. What she needed to do wouldn’t take long.
She waited until the live oaks hid his car in the curve of the driveway, then went inside and sorted through the keys on the rack by the back door. Keys for a Lexus, a Ferrari, and a second Mercedes were hanging there. All more expensive than she wanted to drive.
She chose the keys for the Lexus and went out the back door. The six-car garage sat to the west side of the house. She had a right to drive one of the cars—after all, they were married. But she still felt like a car thief.
The side door was unlocked. He’d probably left it unlocked after getting out his Mercedes. Before she could lose her nerve, she hit the opener by the Lexus, then climbed inside and backed out. A garage-door opener was clipped to the visor, so she punched it and door went down.
She drove down the driveway to the street and pulled out, remembering almost too late that she was supposed to be driving on the right. She jerked the wheel to the proper side and just avoided the car in the left lane. The other car’s horn blasted outrage at her idiocy.
She found her way to the police station and was ushered in to see the detective.
Adams rose from behind his desk. “I’m surprised to see you here. You have information?”
She pulled the hair from her pocket and held it out. “I’d like you test this.”