Seeing Red(10)

“They’re welcome to it. Smoke has started coming out from under the hood. I figure the radiator’s busted.”

“It fared better than the parking meter.”

He didn’t comment on that as he propped his left shoulder against the driver’s window and turned toward her. After looking at her for what became an uncomfortably long time, he said, “For twenty-five years people have been trying to identify the little girl in that picture.”

“You were so annoyed last night, you never told me exactly how you discovered the birthmark.”

“I took a picture of the picture with my phone, downloaded it onto my computer, and enlarged it to the max. I went over it a square inch at a time with a freaking magnifying glass. Twice. More than half your face is buried between The Major’s chest and arm, but in the part that’s visible you can see the speck near your eye.”

“Eureka!”

“That wasn’t my first reaction,” he said. “My first thought was that you’d doctored the print.”

“You doubted my integrity?”

“Doubted? No. You drop out of nowhere and hit me with this? I was sure you were a fraud.”

“What convinced you otherwise?”

“I checked other prints, early ones, including the cover of Time. If you know to look for it, the mark can be seen on every reproduction of the photo. Not as large or as dark as it is now, but there. You’re about to put an end to all the speculation about the mystery child.”

“Some of the theories regarding my identity were pretty wild,” she said with a soft laugh. “I heard a TV preacher once say that I wasn’t flesh and blood. That I was an angel who’d been miraculously captured on film. That I’d been sent to escort home all the children who’d died in the explosion. Can you believe that?”

“I don’t believe in miracles.” He paused, then added, “You’re definitely flesh and blood, and I’m also willing to bet that you’re no angel.”

She hadn’t expected an answer to her rhetorical question. She certainly hadn’t expected his answer to feel like he’d lightly scratched her just below her belly button. Because of the dark sunglasses, she couldn’t read in his eyes whether or not he’d meant the remark to be suggestive. She was probably better off not knowing.

He continued. “It didn’t irk you when imposters came forward, claiming to be you?”

“Amused more than irked.”

“Amused, because you knew they’d have their fifteen minutes and then be debunked. They couldn’t prove their claim. You can.”

She touched the spot beneath her eye. “It’s irrefutable.”

“I should buy stock in magnifying glasses. Once you make the big reveal, there’s sure to be a run on them.”

“Oh, so we’ve circled back to what I hope to achieve.”

“Fame and fortune would be my guess.”

“Well, you’d be wrong.”

“You don’t expect to benefit?”

“Naturally I’ll benefit.”

“No shit.”

“But that’s not the only reason I’m going public.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“I want to thank the man who saved my life,” she said with heat. “Don’t you believe The Major is due my gratitude?”

“Past due. So what’s taken you so long? Oh, wait, I know. You’ve been waiting on the twenty-fifth anniversary for the big ta-da.”

“No, I’ve been waiting till my father died.”

Whatever he’d been about to say, he bit back. He looked aside for several seconds, then removed his sunglasses and flicked a glance at her. “Recently?”

“Eight months ago.”

He didn’t voice regret, but she saw it in his expression.

“It was a blessing,” she said. “He had suffered for a long time and had no quality of life.”

Trapper settled his gaze on her, a question in it.

“Shall I back up and start at the beginning?” she asked.

“The day of the bombing?”

“Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to continue making snide editorial comments?”

“I’ll ration them.” When she gave him a reproving look, he added softly, “I’m kidding.”

“You’re so good at sarcasm, it’s hard to tell.”

“I want to hear your story.”

She took a deep breath and began. “It was a couple of weeks past my fifth birthday. We lived in Kansas City. Daddy had to be in Dallas for a business seminar. Mom and I came along so they could take me to Six Flags as a belated birthday present.

“Staying in the hotel was an adventure in itself. I’d never had room service before. Mom let me order our breakfast. After we’d eaten, we all rode down the elevator together. Daddy kissed us goodbye and got off on the mezzanine level for his meeting. Mom had planned a shopping trip for the two of us. She and I got off on the ground floor. I was skipping across the lobby toward the entrance when the bombs went off. The doorman was smiling at me, about to say something. I saw him just … disappear.”

Trapper turned his head away and looked through the windshield as he ran his hand over his mouth and chin. “Ten-forty-two. The first of them, ten-forty-two thirty-three to be exact.”