A Different Blue(103)

in touch and say hello and let you know how proud I was of you, but thought maybe you would be

overwhelmed with all the hype and media attention at the time.”

“I thought I saw you that day. That's why I'm here. I figured you had to be working here in

Boulder City now and – I know this is a little strange – I think you might be able to help me.

I'm not in trouble!” I hurried to add, and he smiled again. He seemed genuinely pleased to see

me.

“I knew there couldn't be two Blue Echohawks in the world, but I admit, I still pictured you at

ten years old.” He eyed my protruding stomach in surprise. “And you're going to be a mother

soon, looks like!” My hand fluttered to my belly awkwardly. I nodded and reached for the hand

he held toward me, shaking it firmly before I let it drop.

“Candy?” Detective Bowles directed his question to the helpful lady at the front desk. “Is

room D available?”

Candy?? Oh, that poor woman. She needed a strong name to go with that strong upper lip.

Candy smiled and nodded, all the while speaking into her headset.

“Right this way.” Detective Bowles began walking. “Can I just call you Blue?”

“Sure. What do I call you?”

“Detective . . . or Andy's fine, too.”

He led me into a little room and pulled out a chair. I wondered if they used these rooms to

question murderers and gang members. Strangely, I had felt a lot more nervous at Planned

Parenthood.

“So talk to me. What brings you to me after all this time?” Detective Bowles crossed his

bulging biceps over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

“My father's body was found three years after he disappeared. I don't know if you knew that. I

was told by my social worker, and I don't know what happened on your end of things . . . what

exactly the police did, if anything. I'm guessing it was documented and the case was closed at

some point?” I didn't know if I was using the correct terminology. Like most people, I had

watched a few cop shows. I felt a little silly trying to sound like I had any clue what I was

talking about.

“I did know, actually. I'm sorry for your loss.” Detective Bowles tipped his head, knowing

there was more to come.

“My . . . aunt . . .” My voice trailed off. She wasn't my aunt, but for the sake of the story

I needed to keep it simple but honest. I adjusted slightly. “Uh . . . the woman who took me in

told me something at that time that I don't think the police ever knew. I didn't know . . . you

see.” I wasn't making any sense.

Detective Bowles just waited.

“I don't want to get her in trouble. She should have spoken up . . . but she had her reasons, I

guess.”

“Do you want a lawyer?” Detective Bowles asked softly. I looked at him in confusion.

“No . . . I don't think so. I didn't commit a crime. I was a kid. It never even occurred to me

that I could go to the police with what she told me. And I'm hoping that this won't be about

Cheryl Sheevers or anybody else. This is about me. I'm trying to find out who my mother was.”

“If I remember right, nobody seemed to know who your mother was, correct?”

I nodded. “But after Jimmy Echohawk's body was found, Cheryl told me that he wasn't my father.