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“What are you suggesting, Dr. Ramsby?” he asked tersely.
“I haven’t seen any indication that Padgett Long could make that kind of decision on her own.”
“Padgett signed the adoption papers for her son and they were sealed,” he stated flatly. Had Padgett really ever been competent to sign away her child? Jalicia wondered. Then again, what
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would she have done with a baby? “Let me understand what’s happening here, Mr. Tinneman. Are you afraid that Padgett’s child is going to find out that he or she was born into a very wealthy family and will want his or her share of the inheritance?”
“I’m afraid it runs deeper than that,” Tinneman said, his voice tense.
“How so?”
“It’s Mr. Long’s wish that he meet his grandson before he dies. He’s obsessed with finding the boy. Especially now, with Brady’s death.”
“And this boy, his grandson, has lived with another family for his entire life.”
“I understand it may be a surprise to him, but I doubt that the parents would object to their son meeting his biological family, given the circumstances.”
Dr. Ramsby didn’t like the subtext: because the Longs were a family of wealth. “What are you asking me to do?”
“We just want help in finding the boy. Mr. Long is willing to be extremely generous with him and his family.”
Jalicia thought she understood. “You plan to make him an offer, maybe keep him from attempting to make a claim on the estate?”
“Before you make assumptions, Dr. Ramsby, consider that the costs of raising a child through college are significant, even, in some cases, impossible. And there are all kinds of other expenses in raising a child as well, so, yes, there are monetary considerations. And Mr. Long plans to be very generous. Very.” His unctuous tone sent a frisson down Jalicia’s back. “And consider this: when found, the boy 268
Lisa Jackson
will finally learn his biological family history, personal and medical. It will give him a sense of who he is in the world and help everyone concerned.”
“What about his father?”
“What?”
“Padgett’s son’s biological father.”
“He’s out of the picture.” Said quickly. Dismis sively.
“Did he even know he was going to have a child?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you were a part of this adoption, or your firm was.” She flipped through document after document on the Sargent, McGill, and Tinneman letterhead. “There are laws governing father’s rights, Mr. Tinneman.”
“I know the law.”
“Who is he?”
“Padgett never named the father,” he said tautly.
“She’s the only one who knows who he is.”
“And she’s not talking.” Literally. Dr. Ramsby glanced at the picture of her own daughter, grinning into the camera near the bud vase. Clarice was fourteen, about the same age as Padgett’s missing son.
“She’s never mentioned anything in any of your sessions?” There was a note of hope in the attorney’s voice.
