Chapter 8 - THE CHILD WITHOUT A NAME
St. Catherine’s Home had closed eighteen years earlier.
Its original building was now a luxury apartment complex, but the orphanage records had been transferred to a church archive outside the city.
Eleanor could not leave Whitmore House openly. Richard had instructed security to prevent her from traveling without authorization.
Caroline volunteered to go.
“You’re not ready,” Eleanor said.
“I have spent twelve years being told what I am ready for.”
“This may be dangerous.”
“So is staying here.”
Marian gave Caroline a prepaid phone and a small audio recorder.
Agent Cross arranged for an unmarked car to follow her at a distance.
Before Caroline left, Eleanor gave her the photograph.
“Find the baby.”
Caroline looked at the handwritten message.
“What do you think this has to do with Father?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always know.”
“No. I have simply become skilled at hiding when I don’t.”
Caroline almost smiled.
It was the first glimpse of her old self Eleanor had seen in months.
The church archive occupied the basement of a stone monastery.
Sister Agnes, the elderly archivist, remembered Eleanor’s husband.
“Jonathan Whitmore visited us several times,” she told Caroline.
“Why?”
“He wanted to learn about his birth family.”
“Did he find them?”
Sister Agnes hesitated.
“He found a name.”
“Whose name?”
“His mother’s.”
She led Caroline through rows of metal shelves.
“The original records were incomplete. Many children arrived without official documents.”
“Do you have Jonathan’s file?”
“I did.”
“Did?”
“Someone removed it.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
Caroline’s stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“A man claiming to represent your family.”
“Richard Vale?”
“He signed another name.”
Sister Agnes opened a ledger.
The visitor had signed as Robert Mason.
The address was false, but the handwriting resembled Richard’s.
“Was anything copied before the file disappeared?” Caroline asked.
Sister Agnes thought for a moment.
“Jonathan donated money for digitization. Some documents may have been scanned.”
They searched an old computer database.
After nearly an hour, Sister Agnes found a partial file.
Jonathan Whitmore had arrived at the orphanage at eleven months old.
The name of his mother was listed as Evelyn Mercer.
Caroline stared at the screen.
“Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Was she related to Thomas Mercer?”
The archivist searched another index.
Evelyn Mercer had a younger brother.
Thomas.
Caroline stepped away from the computer.
“My father and Thomas Mercer were related.”
“According to this, Thomas was Jonathan’s uncle.”
“But Thomas was only a few years older than Father.”
“That is possible in large families.”
Sister Agnes opened another scanned page.
It showed a faded birth registration.
Jonathan’s original surname had been Mercer.
The Whitmore family adopted him in 1947.
Caroline took out the photograph.
“Do you recognize the baby?”
Sister Agnes adjusted her glasses.
“The image is too recent for our old residents.”
“Look at the seal.”
“That seal was used for private placements.”
“What does that mean?”
“Children placed with families outside the normal adoption system.”
“Was that legal?”
“Sometimes.”
“And other times?”
Sister Agnes lowered her voice.
“Sometimes wealthy families paid to keep certain births secret.”
Caroline felt sick.
“Can you identify the child?”
“Not without the placement number.”
They examined the photograph beneath a magnifying glass.
A faint code was stamped near the edge.
SC-1985-0417.
Sister Agnes entered the code.
The computer displayed a restricted record.
Access Denied.
She tried again.
The screen turned black.
Then a message appeared.
This record has been sealed by federal order.
Caroline called Agent Cross.
He did not answer.
She called Eleanor.
The phone rang once before disconnecting.
Sister Agnes looked toward the stairs.
“Did you hear that?”
Footsteps moved above them.
The basement door opened.
A man descended slowly.
He wore a dark coat and carried an umbrella despite the clear weather.
Caroline recognized him from the house.
Cole.
Richard’s security guard.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said.
Sister Agnes stepped in front of Caroline.
“This is private church property.”
Cole continued descending.
“I’m here to collect something that belongs to Mr. Vale.”
Caroline hid the photograph inside her coat.
“There is nothing here for him.”
Cole smiled.
“He said you would lie.”
The lights went out.
Sister Agnes gasped.
Caroline heard Cole moving through the darkness.
Then another sound came from behind the shelves.
A metal door opening.
Sister Agnes caught Caroline’s hand.
“This way.”
They entered a narrow records tunnel leading toward the monastery chapel.
Cole’s flashlight beam swept across the shelves behind them.
“Caroline,” he called.
His voice echoed through the basement.
“Richard only wants you home.”
Sister Agnes pulled open a rusted gate.
They reached a staircase.
At the top, Caroline found herself behind the chapel altar.
A funeral service was taking place.
Dozens of people turned as she emerged.
Cole could not follow without drawing attention.
Caroline crossed the chapel and exited through the main doors.
Agent Cross’s car waited at the curb.
He opened the rear door.
“Get in.”
Caroline climbed inside.
As the car pulled away, she showed him the sealed record number.
Cross stared at it.
“Where did you get this?”
“Why?”
“This is not an adoption code.”
“What is it?”
“It is a witness protection identifier.”
Caroline’s throat tightened.
“For whom?”
May you like
Cross looked at the photograph of Thomas Mercer and the infant.
Before he could answer, a bullet struck the rear window.
