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Her eyebrows rose, and her lips pursed together as she stared at me with that, “You’re not exactly wrong,” expression.
“Wait… seriously?” I laughed. “I’mno one. Whoever it is… Well, they’re a psycho. They probably want to collect me for their creepy dungeon. Tell Buffalo Bill I’m not interested.”
She snorted, her hand briefly covering her mouth as she tried not to outright laugh. After clearing her throat, she focused back on me, still wearing a ghost of a smile. “Very well. I’ll tellSenatorBuffalo Bill you’re not interested then.”
Senator?Okay. That got my attention.
“Uh… Senator?”
She nodded. “Yup. Senator. Senator Rick Avery from California.”
My eyes widened. “What? Why the hell would a Senator from California want to meetme?”
All humor drained from her face as she placed a hand on my leg. “Here’s the hard part, kid. Remember what I said. I looked into it. There was enough reasonable evidence for me to bring this to you, but not enough that I can say it’s definitely true. We needyouto complete the puzzle.”
“What is this? An episode of the Bachelor or something? Quit dragging it out. What is it already?”
She lightly chuckled and nodded. “Okay. Look, this man thinks you’re his daughter that was kidnapped eighteen years ago.”
My eyes widened, and my jaw went slack. I thought maybe it was a long-lost uncle or some shit. Maybe someone who lost touch with my family years ago after a huge fall out that completely severed the family. Someone my parents hated for personal reasons and never mentioned, but who was a good person I could rely on. Someone I could get to know. Maybe they had kids, and I had cousins out there I could get to know.
Maybe I wouldn’t be alone…
Butthis?No.
Not only does this suggest that my parents weren’t really my parents but that they’dkidnapped me.This was ridiculous. There was no way. My father raised me to be strong and independent. Why on earth would he have done that if I was his victim?
“That’s impossible. I’m not adoptedorsome kidnap victim. My dad has dark hair and blue eyes. Just like me. I look like him. Everyone always said so. This isn’t possible. I’m sorry for that man, but I’m not his daughter.”
Detective Abbott took a deep breath and continued carefully. “His daughter’s due date is right around the date you were born. May 31. Your birthday is June 2. He also has black hair and light blue eyes.”
I held up my hands to stop her before she went any further. “I can appreciate the similarities, but you didn’t come here to tell me all this because of something circumstantial at best.” Her brows raised, and I shrugged. “I watch a lot of true crime. So, what was it? Whatactuallyconvinced you to talk to me?”
She opened her folder and pulled out a piece of paper before handing it to me. She said nothing as I looked it over, my eyes not believing what they were seeing.
“How did you get this?” I asked, my wide eyes looking into hers.
“The back of the church where the office was had been destroyed by fire. The firefighters were going through once the fire was out, looking for evidence and checking structural integrity. They noticed something strange in the wall. Upon inspection, they realized it was a hidden room. They opened it up and found a few boxes of personal effects. Because of the investigation, my partner and I went through the boxes, and we found that document.”
“I—I don’t understand. Is it real?” I asked, now staring down at the adoption papers with my name and my parents’ names on it.
“Pastor Montgomery was a safe haven for unwanted babies. Over the years, he helped facilitate several adoptions. He kept extensive records on everything. For some reason, yours is a bit short. We only found a couple of things, but everything points to yes. However, there’s only one way to know for certain.”
“A DNA test,” I said. It was more of a statement than a question. That would clear everything up 100%.
“Yes,” she said. “While I have no idea if the senator is actually your father, I’m fairly certain the rest is true. According to what we found, you were dropped off at the church anonymously. You were placed with the Wilders soon after and adopted within a year.”
“Okay, so… my parents weren’t the ones who kidnapped me then?Ifthe senator truly is my biological father.”
She shook her head. “No. We don’t believe so. Obviously, it’s possible, but the lengths they would have had to go through make that both highly unlikelyandunbelievable since you were dropped off at the church days before you were placed with them.”
That certainly made me feel better. Thinking they could have kidnapped me ripped me apart even more than them being gone.
“What about my biological mom?” I asked.
She looked at me with regret. “She was killed when you were kidnapped. I’m sorry. I tried to find some information on her, but I couldn’t find anything.”
That broke my heart. I wanted to know how she died, but I figured that would be a question for another day. I’d already lost one mother. I didn’t need the details on how my other one was lost before I ever even had a chance to know her.
