"You? What are you talking about?"
"Ten years ago, I gave up a baby for adoption, and the kidnapper seems to be saying that the child he has is my biological child—that I am Hayley's birth mother."
"What!" Lindsay's eyes widened, the blood draining out of her face, until she looked like a ghost. "That—that isn't possible."
She swallowed back a growing knot of emotion, knowing she had to find a way to get all the words out, to tell her secret to the one person who probably needed to hear it the most.
"I didn't believe it was possible, either. When I first met you, I had no inkling that Hayley could possibly be the child I gave up for adoption. I came to Chicago because Hayley's case was exactly like three others that I had recently worked. But I'm fairly certain now that the white rose was just meant to get me to Chicago."
"None of this is true." Lindsay gave a vehement shake of her head. "Hayley's biological mother is dead."
"It's probable that the records—the birth certificate—everything was doctored."
"Why?"
"Because you were going through back channels. You were working through the black market. Did you know that, Lindsay?"
"No. It was a legitimate agency. They did private adoptions. They had photos of happy kids and happy families on their walls."
"That agency went out of business a few months after you got Hayley."
"Businesses go under all the time. So what? You're mistaken. I'm sorry, but you're wrong. And maybe the message on the phone isn't going to end with daughter. It could be something else."
Lindsay was fighting hard to hang onto her reality, and Bree couldn't blame her, but in the end, the truth would come out.
"I'm not telling you any of this to hurt you. I am as shocked as you are that Hayley could be my daughter. I had specifically been told that my baby would not go to a family in Illinois."
"But we live in Illinois, and we picked up Hayley from a hospital in Joliet. Is that where you had your baby?"
"No. I had my child in Detroit. But you didn't pick up Hayley until she was several days old, right?"
"But she was born at that hospital." Lindsay paused. "I mean—I assumed she was born there." Suddenly, uncertainty was in her voice.
"We both made assumptions that weren't true," she said gently. "I was a teen mom. I willingly gave up my child, so she could have a better life. And I would have hoped beyond hope that she would have gone to a family like yours."
"Why did you give her up? Because you were young?"
She'd expected the question, but it was still difficult to hear. "I was eighteen, and I had lived a very difficult life. My mother had me when she was a teenager, and I grew up in chaos, poverty and crime. My mom died when I was ten, and I lived with my aunt for a few years, and then I went into foster care when she couldn't take care of me. When I realized I was pregnant, the only thing I knew for sure was that I didn't want my baby to live my childhood. I wanted her to have what you've given Hayley—two loving parents, grandparents, siblings, a pretty pink and purple bedroom with all the stuffed animals she could ever want." Her eyes filled with tears as she thought about Hayley's room.
A tear slid out of Lindsay's eye. "I tried my best. But now…you must hate me."
"I don't hate you. I hate the people who took Hayley. They're the only ones who are responsible."
"You're Hayley's birth mom," Lindsay muttered, as she still tried to make sense of it. "But she doesn't have your green eyes. Hers are brown." She paused. "The father—we never knew anything about Hayley's father."
And the last thing she wanted to do was tell Lindsay about Johnny. "He's not important right now. I just want you to know that I'm going to find Hayley, and I'm going to bring her back to you."
"To me? Or to you?" Lindsay whispered, anguish in her eyes. "You're her mother. Maybe you want her back."
Did she want her back?
She shook her head, forcing the silent question out of her head. "No. You're her mother." She blinked back the tears that so desperately wanted to fall, and looking at Lindsay, she could see the same heartbreaking emotion. "And Mark is her father," she managed to add. "He's going to be all right, and Hayley will come home to you. We're going to put your family back together."
"Promise me."
It went against all of her training to make that promise, but she did it anyway. "I promise."
Tense silence hung between them, and then the door opened, and Lindsay's father returned to the room. She felt relieved at his interruption. Lindsay would have more questions, but for now she'd told her enough.
"Everything all right in here?" he asked, obviously noting the heavy atmosphere in the room and not sure if it had to do with Mark or Hayley or whatever else they'd been talking about.
Lindsay gave her a helpless look, as if she didn't know how to answer her father.
Bree didn't want to get into anything with Lindsay's dad, so she just said, "I'll be in touch, Lindsay."
"Just keep your promise. That's all I ask."
Nathan leaned over and gave Lindsay a hug. "I'm praying for Mark."
"Thank you," she said tightly.
As they left the room, Bree paused in the doorway. Lindsay's father sat down next to his daughter and put his arm around her shoulders. Then Lindsay lost control and started to sob.
"I made things worse," she muttered.
Nathan took her hand and pulled her into the hallway. They moved a few feet down the corridor, away from the police officer. "You had to tell her, Bree."
"It was one of the hardest things I've ever done," she said, looking into his understanding eyes. "But I thought she needed to know."
"She did need to know. I just wished you hadn't made her a promise you might not be able to keep."
"I'm going to keep it," she said fiercely. "I'm going to save my daughter. Whatever it takes."
"I'm not arguing with you. I know you'll do everything you can, but I noticed you didn't tell her about Johnny."
"I didn't want to scare her more by telling her that Hayley's father is a criminal. But I'm going to have to tell everyone else. The pictures coming to my phone are putting together a phrase that will directly name me as Hayley's mother, and if I don't share my suspicions, I could be putting Hayley at more risk. I have to come clean. I have to get the police and the agency on the same page, so we can find her."
"I know it's not what you wanted, but it's the right thing to do. Do you want to get out of here before…" His voice trailed away. "I guess it's too late for that."
She nodded, seeing three members from the Chicago FBI office get off the elevator. They were followed by two men in suits. One was the lead detective on the case, Vance Cooper, but the other man was new to the investigation. He wasn't, however, new to her. "Is that Detective Benedict?" she asked Nathan, wary surprise running through her.
"I think so," Nathan said tightly. "What is he doing on this case?"
She didn't know, and she didn't like it. Benedict had been good friends with Johnny's father, and she'd always thought he was a dirty cop. The fact that he was suddenly showing up now when Calvin Baker, a former associate of Johnny's, had just been ID'd as the ransom negotiator made her very nervous.
Was he here to get information for Johnny?
"Be careful what you say to him," she told Nathan. "Don't let on that you remember Calvin."
"Don't worry. I know how not to talk to the cops."
"I don't know when I'll be in touch. The police will take over your questioning, while I'll be tied up with the agency. I wish I could protect you from the questions—"
"I'm not worried about it," he said, cutting her off. "I'll tell them exactly what happened, how we came to follow Mark to the silos, and how you took down the gunman before he could kill Mark."