Reckless Whisper (Off The Grid: FBI #2)

"Your car was broken into?" An uneasy tingle ran down his spine.

"Actually, it was Lindsay's SUV. Luckily, she didn't have anything of value in there, just some kids' toys and soccer shoes and a pair of expensive sunglasses. But they hit five other cars that night, and one of our neighbors had left a computer tablet in the car, so they lost that." Mark paused as Lindsay came into the room.

She wore black leggings and an over-sized long-sleeve sweater that enveloped her thin frame. Like Mark, she looked completely exhausted and emotionally spent, her eyes and nose bright red from crying.

"Oh," she said, stopping when she saw him. "Nathan. I didn't know anyone was here."

"He brought us coffee and pastries," Mark put in.

"Thanks," she said, without much meaning in her voice.

Mark grabbed the second coffee from the cardboard holder and handed it to her. "Why don't you start with this?"

She took a grateful sip. "Caffeine has become my best friend."

"Is there anything else I can do for you guys?" he asked.

"The FBI said that Grace remembered that the man had a World Series Cubs ring on his finger," Mark said. "Has she remembered anything else?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"It's not her fault," Lindsay said, leaning against the counter.

"You want to sit down?" he asked, ready to give up his seat.

She put up a hand. "It's fine. I need to move around, find some energy. I have to be strong for Hayley."

"You are strong."

A phone rang on the counter, and both Lindsay and Mark jumped, but Mark reached it first.

"Is it the police?" Lindsay asked impatiently.

"No. It's work," Mark said. "I'm just going to take it, all right?"

"Sure," she said in a dull monotone.

Despite Lindsay's earlier statement about wanting to find some energy, when Mark left the kitchen, she took her husband's seat.

"Is Grace all right?" she asked. "We were practically yelling at her the other night. She must have been scared. I feel badly about that."

"Don't feel bad. Grace is okay. She just wants Hayley to come home."

"Even though they're a year apart, they've really become close since they started ballet together. They both love to dance, and that bonded them."

"Grace can't seem to stop twirling, even when she's supposed to be doing her homework."

"Hayley is the same way."

"Did you dance as a kid?"

"No, not at all. I have two left feet, and it never interested me, but Hayley was drawn to ballet from the time she could walk. She just loves it." Lindsay bit down on her bottom lip. "But I keep thinking that if I hadn't pushed her to be on stage, none of this would have happened. Hayley didn't want to perform. She was nervous about being in front of people. She really just likes to dance for herself. But I didn't want her to miss out, and all the kids were doing it. If I hadn't pressed—" She stopped abruptly. "Everything would have been different if I had just made other decisions."

"What you're going through, Lindsay—I can't imagine. It must be hell on earth."

"It really is. I feel her calling out to me, Nathan. Every time I close my eyes, I hear her voice asking me to come and find her, and it just breaks my heart. She was such a miracle baby. It was just by chance that I became her mother, and now I feel like I failed. I didn't protect her the way I was supposed to. I was going to give her the better life that her own mother couldn't. But I didn't do that."

He was shocked that Lindsay was talking about Hayley's adoption. According to Bree, no one except the family knew about the adoption, and Hayley was completely unaware that she had different birth parents. But clearly Lindsay was distraught. She was rambling on, and he wasn't sure she was even aware of what she was revealing. However, now that she'd given him the opening he needed, he had to squeeze through.

"I didn't realize that Hayley was adopted," he said, thinking that was the most normal response he could make.

"Oh." She suddenly realized what she'd said. "Yes. I shouldn't have said anything. Not a lot of people know. I haven't really thought about it in years, but since she was taken, and the police asked a lot of questions about her birth parents, I can't stop thinking about it."

"Do they think the birth parents have something to do with this?"

"I don't believe so. The mom died very soon after Hayley was born. No one knows who the father is. And no one has ever reached out to us."

"What do you know about the biological mother?"

"She was young, seventeen, I think. She didn't have parents around. She said she wanted to give up her child, so she would have a better life."

"Did you meet her?"

"No, it was a closed adoption done through an agency. Mark handled most of the details. After so many disappointments, it was hard for me to keep getting my hopes up."

"I can't imagine how tough that was."

"But after we got Hayley, I did write the birth mother a letter. I was sitting in the nursery that I never thought I would fill, and Hayley was sleeping so peacefully in her crib, and I picked up a pen and paper, and I told this young teenager how grateful I was. I said I would guard Hayley's life with my own. I would give her everything I could. But I didn't do enough." Lindsay blinked back tears. "You'd think I'd be out of tears, wouldn't you?"

"I don't think there's a limit when it comes to heartbreak. Did you ever send the letter?"

"I didn't know where to send it. I was going to give it to the agency, but Mark didn't think it was a good idea. He said we should let things be the way they were set up—no contact whatsoever. We didn't want to risk the birth mother changing her mind, so I put it away. One day I'll give it to Hayley. I hope she won't hate me for not telling her she was adopted all these years."

"When are you planning to tell her?"

"I don't know. We didn't want to do it when she was really young, so we kept putting it off. She's only ten, but it feels almost too late and yet too soon at the same time. I can't think about it right now." Lindsay gave him another pained look. "Do you think it's wrong that we haven't told her?"

"I wouldn't presume to say what's right or wrong, but I do know that you're a great mother, Lindsay. And this isn't your fault."

"How can it not be? It happened on my watch." She drew in a breath. "I keep thinking that she must be terrified, and she doesn't even have her bunny."

"Is that her favorite stuffed animal?"

"Yes. It's a tiny little thing, but she always has it with her—in the car, in her backpack—it goes with her everywhere. She loves it so much. My mother gave it to her when she was a baby. Unfortunately, it was lost a few weeks ago, so it didn't go with her to the school concert."

"How did she lose it?"

"It was in our car when it got broken into. I don't know why anyone would take it, but then they took everything that belonged to the kids that had been left in the car. I guess they sell the stuff somewhere. Hayley was so sad. It was the first time I'd seen her cry in forever. She's usually a pretty happy kid." Lindsay paused as Mark returned to the kitchen.

Nathan was surprised by the change in Mark's appearance. He'd changed out of his sweats into slacks and a shirt. His eyes were bright. He looked like he'd found some energy and a new purpose.

"Are you going out?" Lindsay asked in surprise.

"I have to go to the office for about a half hour."

"Why? What could possibly be important now?" she demanded.

"It's my biggest client, Lindsay. All I have to do is pull something off my work computer, and hand it off to Brian. Then I'm home again."

"Brian can't do that himself?"

"He can't. I'm sorry. I swear I'll be back soon. And to be honest, I need the break, Lindsay. I need a few minutes out of the house. I'll have my phone. If anything happens, you'll call me."

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