A Different Blue(151)

The money ended up getting her killed. From the tox screen, it looks like she was pretty strung

out and going for round two. The dealer decided she was easy pickings and took her purse and

pounded her head into the nightstand. There wasn't much evidence of a struggle, and we had no

witnesses. But we were able to get a visual off a security camera on her car leaving the scene,

with a decent look at the driver. The case was pretty cut and dried. Until we found out from

extended family that there was a missing child. That's where the case hit a standstill. You had

literally vanished into thin air.

“This is a picture of her, taken from her drivers license records, which puts her at about

sixteen in this photo.” Detective Martinez slid an 8X10 photo of a smiling girl across the

table, and when I let my eyes settle on her face, I saw myself there. Wilson sucked in his

breath beside me, and his hand tightened around mine.

“She looks like you, Blue,” he whispered. “The eyes are different, and you have a lighter

complexion . . . but the smile and the hair . . . that's you.”

“Yeah. We noticed it right off too, and as a result we were pretty confident when we met with

you in October that we had found Winona's baby girl. Of course, we couldn't say anything at the

time.” Detective Moody smiled broadly, and I tried to smile back.

Winona Hidalgo's driver's license description said her hair was black and her eyes brown. Her

ethnicity was listed as Native American. She was five feet four inches tall and one hundred

eighteen pounds. I was taller than she had been but just as slim. I couldn't take my eyes off

her. She didn't look evil. She just looked young.

“Initially, we had the notification of death made by local law enforcement, but when the search

for the child, uh..when the search for you stalled, Detective Moody and I went and visited with

the family personally.”

“I have family?” The churning in my stomach resumed with a vengeance as I felt what little

identity I had was being wrenched from my grasping hands.

“You have a grandmother, Stella Hidalgo, who is Winona's mother. You and your mother lived with

her until Winona took off with you when you were just shy of two years old. Stella Hidalgo lives

in Utah on the Paiute Indian Reservation. We have contacted her, and she is eager to see you.”

“Does my grandmother know who my father is?”

“Yes. Your biological father is a man by the name of Ethan Jacobsen.” Another picture was

taken from the file and handed to me. A boy with spiky blonde hair and bright blue eyes stared

out, unsmiling. His shoulders were wide and square under a red jersey with a white number 13

displayed proudly on his chest. It looked like a yearbook shot, the kind they take of each

football player, where all the guys tried to looker bigger and badder than they really were.

“I've seen that expession before,” Wilson murmured, and when my eyes met his there was

tenderness in his gaze. “I saw it the first day I met you. I interpreted it as the 'sod off'

look.”

The room grew quiet as everyone seemed to sense I needed a minute to emotionally catch up.

Eventually, Detective Martinez resumed speaking.

“According to Ethan Jacobsen, and according to Stella Hidalgo, Ethan wanted nothing to do with

Winona when she told him of her pregnancy. His family is on record claiming they begged her to