I sat on the bed, mostly ineffective, as Lauren weeded through drawers, the closet, anything she could find. She pulled out stacks of clothes, sifted through her books and papers, checked every nook and cranny.
Nothing that told us where she went.
We walked back out to the Corzine’s living room. They were both still sitting on the couch, huddled together, looking dazed and confused. Lauren and I resumed our seats.
“Nothing?” Alex asked.
We both shook our heads.
“So now what?”
“We’re going to go to Bryce’s home,” I said, glancing at Lauren. “Check there.”
“We’ll come with you.”
I stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “No. You won’t.”
Anger flashed in his face. “You know, I’m a little tired of you telling me what’s going to happen here. You walk into my home and…”
“You stole our daughter,” I countered. “You may not have been the one who showed up in my yard and took her, but as far as I’m concerned, you might as well have. You have no rights here. You wanna argue about it? Let’s step outside then.”
“Joe,” Lauren said. “Easy.”
“We’ve raised her,” Alex said, his voice rising. “We’ve taken care of her. We’ve given her a good life.”
“You’ve given her a phony life,” I said. “You are not her parents and you should stop with that charade right about now. The only thing you are—the only thing—is culpable in a child’s abduction. So, you’ll keep your ass here in this house. You won’t move. You won’t do a goddamn thing unless I tell you to.”
“Or what?” he said, squinting at me, then waving his hand in the air. “What are you gonna do?”
I stood. “First, I’ll call the police. Then I’ll call the federal authorities. Then I’ll call my friend here at DCFS. You’ll be arrested. You’ll be vilified.” I pointed down the hallway. “And you’ll lose custody of your real daughter.”
The anger drained from his face and his wife clutched at his arm.
“And make no mistake,” I said. “That’s all probably going to happen anyway. The only difference is how fast it’s going to happen. We can do it now or you can buy yourself some time and start preparing.”
They exchanged nervous glances, the severity of the situation finally settling on them.
“So. Alex,” I said. “That’s what I’m gonna do if you so much as move two inches off that couch. We’re going to Bryce’s home. You will sit here until I tell you not to. And if the phone rings and it’s my daughter, you’ll call me immediately. And then you’ll sit down and wait for me to show up and tell you what to do.”
Valerie’s head was on Alex’s shoulder and she was crying again.
“Any more questions?” I asked.
Neither of them moved.
I looked at Lauren. “You have a card and a pen?”
She nodded and pulled both from her bag. I scribbled my cell on the back of her business card and laid it on the coffee table.
“You have my cell and you have Lauren’s,” I said. “You hear from her, you call one of us. Immediately.”
Alex’s eyes drifted toward the card. “I just want her to be okay. So we can explain. That we didn’t know.”
He looked sad, torn, distraught. Tired. He’d probably been worried sick for the last few days, wondering where Elizabeth had gone off to and what she was doing. He looked like he really cared about her, like a father would about his daughter.
The only problem with that was that he wasn’t her father.
I was.
FORTY-SEVEN
Lauren was plugging Bryce’s address into the GPS when my phone rang. I saw the number, thought about letting it go to voicemail, then answered. “Hey, Isabel.”
“Hi,” she said. “Where are you?”
“In the car and I’m busy,” I said. “What’s up?”
“It’s Rodney,” she said. “The detective we talked to?”
“Right.”
“He’s had a stroke,” she said. “He’s in the hospital. Not life-threatening, but there’s some impairment and he’s going to be there for a few days. Tess called me this morning.”
“Oh, wow,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Lauren held the GPS up with the address on the screen. It said we were seventeen minutes away. I nodded at her.
“How busy are you?” she asked.
“Very,” I said. “But I can’t get into it right now.”
“Okay, I understand,” she said. “But here’s the thing. He’s asking to see you.”
“He wants to see me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Tess just said that he’s saying he wants to talk with you. And it’s not like he’s out of it and just mumbling. He’s coherent. The impairment is in his movement, I guess. But he’s insistent that he wants to talk with you.”
“I can’t do it right now, Isabel,” I said, turning the key in the ignition. “I’m in the middle of something.”
The line buzzed for a moment. “With your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Alright,” she said. “I understand. But can you just make some time to see him? I’ll send you the hospital address. When you get some time, will you go see him?”
I wasn’t sure when I’d have time, but I also felt like I owed Rodney. “I will. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay,” she said. “Thanks. And good luck.”
We hung up and I put the phone back in my pocket.
“Everything alright?” Lauren asked.
I turned the heater down, the air in the car stuffy and heavy. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’ll take care of it later.”
She hit start on the GPS and we pulled away from the curb.
“I thought you were going to go after him,” Lauren said after we’d been driving for a few minutes.
“I thought I was, too.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because they are hurting, too.”
The GPS instructed me to turn right onto a major street and we slid into the traffic. “I don’t care about them.”
“You should.”
“You’re on their side?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side, Joe,” she said. “I’m just trying to put myself in their shoes. And they aren’t shoes that are comfortable to wear.”
“You think?”
“I don’t mean it like that,” she explained. “Look. You don’t really think they were the ones who took her that day, do you?”
“I don’t know what I think.”
She frowned. “Bull. If you thought they did, there wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done to keep you off of them. I’d be calling a criminal defense lawyer right now because you’d be charged with murder.”
I didn’t say anything.
“So, I know you don’t think that,” she said. “Their story holds up. You may not like it, but it holds up. They were desperate to have a child. They’d probably gone through all of the right channels and got stonewalled. That isn’t unusual and you know it.”
The light turned red and I slowed to a stop.
“They found a way to adopt a child they thought needed to be adopted,” she continued. “Were they naïve? Probably. Did they overlook some things? Probably. But desperation can do that to people. They were told they had an opportunity to adopt a little girl who needed a home and they took it.”
Traffic starting moving again as the light switched to green.
“For the last eight years, they gave her a place to live,” Lauren said. “They did all the normal things parents do for their kids. I’m grateful for that.”
“Grateful?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. “You’re grateful?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Joe, I’ve run every awful scenario through my head for the last decade. Every horrific thing that could’ve happened to her. Guess what? Finding her living with a family and finding out she’s had a fairly normal life? That wasn’t on the horrific list. Ever.”
The GPS told me to switch lanes and I complied.
“They didn’t take her,” Lauren said. “They made a mistake trying to do a good thing— a selfish thing—but ultimately, a good thing. I wish they had thought harder about adopting a girl through illegal channels. I’m angry about that, obviously. But big picture?” She shook her head. “They took care of our little girl. I’m not angry with them for that. I don’t hate them for that.”