What She Found (Tracy Crosswhite #9)(56)

“You were a reporter for this paper.”

“Get out.” Her voice rose.

“An investigative reporter. A very good one.” Tracy watched Childs for any kind of reaction, anything that might give away . . .

something. Might reveal that Childs knew more than she was letting on. But if she was, Tracy didn’t detect it.

Again, Childs looked to Davis. “Never thought I could write a grocery list, let alone a news story.”

“You learn something new every day,” Davis said.

“You certainly do.”

Tracy pulled out the photographs of Larry Childress in 1995 and at present. She slid them across the table. Again, Childs gave no indication she recognized the man. “That,” Tracy said, “is your husband.”

Childs dropped her gaze to the photographs. “I figured I was married when you said my mum and dad’s name was Siegler. How long were we married?”

“About three years,” Tracy said. “You changed your name to Lisa Childress.”

“What did he do?”

“He was in technology for a bit, then real estate. He sold homes. But mostly . . .” Tracy reached into the file and took out pictures of Anita Childress as a two-year-old and as an adult. “He stayed home and watched your daughter.”

Tracy watched Childs closely. Unlike the prior photographs, she did not reach for the pictures of her daughter. They remained on the tabletop. Childs brought a hand to her mouth and Tracy noticed a tremor.

“Are you okay, Melissa?” Beltrán asked.

She nodded but did not verbally respond.

Davis slid the glass of water closer. “Do you want some water?”

“Yes, please,” she said softly. She took a sip and set down the glass. “Thank you.” Tracy waited, quiet. Childs picked up the photograph of Anita as a two-year-old. After a minute she said to the photograph, “I’ve seen her.”

Tracy and Davis exchanged a glance. “When?” Tracy asked.

Childs’s gaze shifted to the tabletop. “When I closed my eyes those many years ago, I would see this child. I had no idea who she was. I thought maybe it was me as a little girl, but I saw her . . . and I felt her.” She raised her gaze to Tracy. “I felt a bond. You know what I mean; I can tell you know what I mean. You have a child.”

“A little girl.”

“How old?”

“Just about half a year younger than your daughter in that picture.”

“You know what I mean when I say, I felt her.”

“I think I do.” Tracy’s mother used to say the strongest natural bond is the bond between a mother and her child. Humanity would not exist without it.

“She’s the reason for my name,” Childs said.

“What do you mean?” Tracy asked.

“I didn’t know my name.” She gave a small shrug. “I had to invent one just like I had to invent myself. I had to come up with a name, an identity to get my driver’s license and Social Security card.

Where do you start?” She gave another shrug. “Then I remembered this little girl from my dreams. My little child, I thought. Somehow.

That’s how I decided. Melissa Childs. My little child.”

Tracy thought Childs chose the name because it so closely related to her real name, but nothing in the woman’s voice or her demeanor indicated she was lying. After a moment, Tracy asked, “And the A? Your middle initial. What’s it for?” She thought Childs would say Anita.

But Childs raised her gaze from the photographs and said, “Anonymous. Melissa Anonymous Childs.”





C H A P T E R 2 2

As the light faded outside the conference room windows and the hillside light softened from a fiery red and yellow to muted grays, Tracy concluded the meeting with Melissa Childs, maybe after imparting too much information. “I’m going to leave you with your thoughts.”

“Are you staying in town?” Childs asked.

“No. No, I’m going back home on a flight tonight.”

“To see your daughter.”

Tracy almost said, I don’t like to be away from her, but caught herself. “I’m going to leave those materials with you to look at. You can decide what you would like to do. It’s a lot to think about. I want to caution you that this could be painful, and you shouldn’t make this decision lightly, whatever you decide to do.”

“I think I’ve caused enough pain,” Childs said. “I can only imagine what my mother and daughter went through.”

Tracy noted that Childs had not mentioned her husband. “You should know that your husband was suspected of having something to do with your disappearance.”

“Why?”

“The husband is always a suspect. The press and . . . the police can be merciless in this regard. Even though your husband wasn’t officially charged or prosecuted, many condemned him as guilty. It was not an easy time for him, and that suspicion became difficult for your daughter as she got older and could understand.”

“That sounds like a reason to come back. So people know I’m all right.”

“Your husband has moved on. He has a new family. My finding you could reopen old wounds.”

“And for my daughter, Anita?”