The Girl Who Didn't Die--A Suspense Novel Page 3
“It’s one one nine three six Clark Lane, San Diego.”
Alice wrote down the address and said, “What are their names?”
“Michelle and Norman Keener.”
“Did they change my daughter’s name?”
“No, they didn’t.”
“How did they identify her?”
“They recognized her clothes, shoes, earrings, and watch.”
If she confronted the Keeners alone, they might try to hurt her. They might try to kill her.
“I want to meet them. Can you come with me? It’ll take less than an hour.”
“Why do you want me to go with you?”
“I don’t think they’ll talk to me if I come alone.”
After a silence, Hagan said, “Okay. Can you come to San Diego tomorrow at six p.m.?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll meet you at SDPD headquarters.”
“Thank you, Stephen. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” Hagan hung up.
Alice put her phone on the coffee table and said to David, “They found Melissa’s adoptive parents.”
“Great. You’re going to meet them?”
“Yes. I’m meeting them tomorrow.”
David moved closer and put his arm around her. “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want you to go to jail.”
“Detective Hagan’s going to be there with me. I’ll behave myself.”
The Keeners were in big trouble. There must be half a dozen crimes they could be charged with, and Alice figured that kidnapping was one of them. In California, kidnapping a child was punishable by up to eleven years in prison.
The only sure way for the Keeners to avoid a long prison term was to cooperate with the authorities. In exchange for a lighter sentence, they would help the police catch the people who had sold Melissa to them.
2
On Monday morning, Alice called Eugenia Rivera and asked her to find out if a nurse named Michelle Keener had worked at the Riverside Community Medical Center thirteen years ago.
“I was told she might be the nurse who switched my daughter with another baby,” Alice explained.
“Okay, I’ll ask the hospital,” Eugenia said.
At five-forty Alice pulled to the curb in front of San Diego Police Department headquarters. The windows of the six-story glass-and-concrete police headquarters building gleamed in the afternoon sun. Alice fed the meter, got back in her car, and called Detective Hagan.
“Are you in the building?” Hagan asked.
“I’m in my car. I’m parked on Broadway.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Alice entered the Keeners’ address into the GPS, checked her email, and then paced up and down the sidewalk for a few minutes to stretch her legs. At 5:52 Eugenia Rivera called and told her that no one named Michelle Keener had worked at the Riverside Community Medical Center at the time of Melissa’s birth.
“Thanks a lot, Eugenia,” Alice said. “I’ll never bother you again.”
Right after she hung up, Detective Hagan called and asked what kind of car she was in.
“It’s a white Nissan Altima.” Alice got out of the car, turned to the police headquarters building, and waved her hand.
“I see you,” Hagan said.
When Hagan reached the sidewalk, Alice said, “Thanks for coming with me.”
“No problem.”
They got in the car, and Alice started the engine.
“Do you have Melissa’s picture?” she asked.
“Yes, I do.” Hagan took a photograph from his jacket pocket and gave it to her.
Melissa had been a cute girl with long auburn hair, thin eyebrows, big gray eyes, and full lips. She’d had Alice’s eyes and Ryan’s chin. She looked happy in the photo.
“How old is this picture?”
“One month.”
“Can I keep it?”
“I’ll email it to you. Send me your email address.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Alice handed the photograph back to Hagan.
As they drove away from the curb, Hagan asked, “By the way, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a real estate agent.”
She would ask the Keeners to show Melissa’s adoption papers and birth certificate, and then she would ask Hagan to verify their authenticity.
She would love to see the Keeners’ faces when Hagan told them that Melissa’s adoption papers and birth certificate were fake.
“Have you interviewed the Keeners?” Alice asked.
“Yes.”
“Did they strike you as good people?”
“They seem like decent folks.”
If they’re decent folks, then why didn’t they promptly report Melissa missing?
“They’re not alcoholics or drug addicts?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What do they do for a living?”
“The husband’s a lawyer and the wife’s an HR specialist.”
“Do they know I’m coming?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell them I’m Melissa’s biological mother. I’ll do it myself.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know if the Keeners are home?”
“I called Norman Keener an hour ago. He said they’d be home at six. What do you want to talk to them about?”
“Melissa. Do you have any suspects yet?”
Hagan shook his head. “No, we don’t.”
“Who do you think killed her? A sex maniac?”
“It might be a sex maniac, it might be someone she knew, someone from her school. Kids can be very cruel. Two years ago, a fourteen-year-old San Diego girl killed another fourteen-year-old girl because that girl tried to steal her boyfriend. Have you heard of this case?”
“No, I haven’t. Where was Melissa stabbed?”
“She was stabbed in the back three times.”
She could get Hagan to show her pictures of Melissa’s body, but she didn’t want to see them, because she knew that those terrible images would haunt her forever.
“Do you think you’ll find her killer?”
“We’ll do our best.”
3
When they arrived at the Keeners’ residence, a two-story stucco house with a manicured lawn, Alice checked her watch. It was 6:21.
She had promised Hagan that her meeting with the Keeners would take less than an hour.
It’s going to get ugly, Alice thought. They might kick me out before six-fifty.
There was a gray late-model Mercedes parked in the Keeners’ driveway. It appeared the Keeners were well-off.
Detective Hagan rang the bell, and a clean-shaven man in his fifties with graying hair opened the door.
“Good evening, Detective.” The man’s voice was flat, his eyes had dark circles under them.
“Good evening, Norman.”
Hagan and Alice entered the house.
Pointing at the man, Hagan said, “Alice, this is Norman Keener.” Pointing at Alice, he said to Norman, “This is Alice Cannon.”
They went into the living room, and Norman said, “Let me get Michelle.”
He left the room and came back a minute later with a blonde woman in her late forties with her hair tied in a ponytail.
“Good evening, Michelle,” Hagan said to the woman.
“Good evening.”
Michelle Keener looked dejected; her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and glistened with moisture. Hagan introduced Alice to her, and she sat down on the sofa.
Michelle wore no eye shadow or mascara, but she had lipstick on. If she was really depressed about Melissa’s death, she wouldn’t have put lipstick on, would she?
She’s pretending to be sad.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Alice said.
Michelle nodded, and her husband said, “Thank you.”
“I have a few questions about Melissa. How old was she?”
“Thirteen,” Michelle said.
“When was her birthday?”<
br />
“March first.”
Melissa had been born on March first. They had put her real date of birth on her fake birth certificate.
“Where was she born?”
“Riverside.”
“Melissa was adopted, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, she was.”
“When did you adopt her?”
“One month after she was born.”
“Do you have Melissa’s first birth certificate? The one issued before she was adopted?”
“We have a certified copy.”
“Do you have an amended birth certificate and the adoption order?”
When the adoption was finalized, an amended birth certificate was issued on which the names of the biological parents had been replaced with the names of the adoptive parents.
“Yes.”
“Can I see these documents?”
Michelle glanced at Hagan, who was watching with mild interest, and then said, “Sure.”
She must think I’m with the San Diego PD.
Michelle stood up and left the room.
“When is the funeral?” Alice asked Norman.
“It was held this morning,” Norman replied.
“Where was she buried?”
“We cremated her.”
“Did Melissa know she was adopted?”
Norman nodded. “Yes, she did.”
“Was she sad about it?”
“No.”
“Did she ever ask who her real parents were?”
“Yes. Once or twice.”
“What did you tell her?”
“We told her that her biological parents loved her very much.”
Half a minute later Michelle came back and handed Alice four sheets of paper.
The first sheet was a certified copy of the birth certificate for Melissa Anne Cannon. Her place of birth was the Riverside Community Medical Center. The mother of the child section contained Alice’s name. No father was listed on the certificate.
The document looked authentic.
It probably wasn’t very hard to forge a birth certificate.
Why did they put my name on Melissa’s fake birth certificate? It’s risky, isn’t it? And why did they put her actual place of birth on the certificate?
Had Michelle realized that she had Melissa’s biological mother in her house?
The second sheet was Melissa’s amended birth certificate, which looked authentic, too. It listed Norman and Michelle Keener as Melissa’s father and mother.
The third and fourth sheets were the adoption order granting the Keeners’ request to adopt Melissa. It was signed by Judge William Clark of the Orange County Superior Court in California. The name of the adoption agency was Cradle Of Life.
How long would it take to determine that the birth certificates and the adoption order were bogus? Probably a few hours.
Was Cradle Of Life a real adoption agency?
Alice put the documents on the coffee table and said, “Do you have a copier?”
“Yes,” Norman said.
“You adopted Melissa through an agency, didn’t you?”
“Yes, we did,” Michelle said.
“And its name is Cradle Of Life?”
“Yes.”
“Is it in San Diego?”
“It’s in Irvine. We used to live there.”
Melissa’s abductors had used an adoption agency to sell Melissa. She should talk to the boss of Cradle Of Life.
Had the birth certificates and the adoption order been forged by Cradle Of Life?
“Do you have their address?”
“Yes.”
“Can you give it to me?”
Michelle turned to her husband and said, “Honey, can you find the agency’s address?”
“Sure.” Norman stood up and left the room.
“How much did you pay the adoption agency?” Alice asked Michelle.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“How much did you pay the mother?”
“We didn’t pay her anything.”
So Melissa had cost the Keeners only twenty thousand dollars? That was bullshit. The Keeners must have paid at least forty thousand for Melissa.
Alice pulled out her phone and opened Ryan’s picture. “Have you ever seen this man?” She showed Ryan’s photo to Michelle. “He’s Melissa’s biological father.”
“No, I’ve never seen him.”
Alice looked at Hagan and then said, “Michelle, did you know that Melissa was abducted?”
“When was she abducted?”
“The night she was born. The woman who gave you Melissa wasn’t her mother. She abducted her. And I think you knew that.”
Michelle raised her eyebrows. “What? What do you mean? Melissa was abducted from her biological parents?”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea she was abducted.”
“Who was abducted?” Norman walked into the room and gave Alice a piece of paper with an address on it. “This is the adoption agency’s address.”
“She said that Melissa was abducted from her biological parents,” Michelle said to her husband.
“Are you sure?” Norman asked Alice.
“Yes, I am.”
Norman stared at her for a long moment and then said, “Alice, I recognize you. You’re Melissa’s biological mother, aren’t you?”
“I thought you looked familiar,” Michelle said. “Yes, you’re Melissa’s mother.”
“So did you abduct Melissa?” Norman asked.
“No. Melissa was stolen from me.”
“But it was you who gave us Melissa,” Michelle said.
“No, it wasn’t.”
Michelle looked at Hagan and said, “I don’t understand.”
“Alice, didn’t you tell me you gave up Melissa for adoption?” Hagan said.
“The woman who gave them Melissa stole her from me,” Alice replied.
“We can prove it was you,” Norman said. “We have a video.”
“What video?” Alice asked.
“Let me show it to you.” Norman got up and walked out of the room.
“You must have been devastated by Melissa’s death, too,” Michelle said to Alice. “I wish we’d had your contact information. We would’ve invited you to the funeral.”
When Norman came back, he was holding a compact disc in his hand. He inserted the CD into the DVD player, changed the TV’s input source to HDMI 2, and said to Alice, “Please watch this.”
Norman pushed the Play button on the remote.
Norman Keener, his wife, and a young woman cradling a baby in her arms appeared on the screen. They sat on a black leather sofa with smiles on their faces, staring at the camera. The date stamp showed the video had been filmed twenty-nine days after Melissa’s birth, and judging from the Keeners’ appearance, it didn’t lie.
The woman holding the baby looked like Alice, a much younger Alice.
Alice’s heart began to race.
“My name is Alice Cannon and this is my daughter, Melissa,” the woman said. “I want Michelle and Norman Keener to be Melissa’s new parents. They’re wonderful people and I’m sure Melissa will have a happy life with them.”
Could this woman be her?
No, she couldn’t. I’ve never met the Keeners before and I did not give up Melissa for adoption.
Alice glanced at Hagan and saw that he was watching the video.
“Thank you, Alice,” Michelle said. “We’re very grateful to you for giving Melissa to us. I promise we’ll love her more than anything in the world.”
“Thank you, Alice,” Norman said.
Alice’s look-alike handed the baby to Michelle, and then the video ended.
Who was that woman?
Is this a dream?
“Alice, it’s you, isn’t it?” Hagan said, pointing at the screen.
If I say it’s not me, he’ll think I’m insane.
Alice nod
ded. Her temples were throbbing.
“Yes, it is her,” Michelle said.
“Did you forget about this video?” Norman asked Alice. “It was your idea.”
“Yes, I did.” Alice bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Forget everything I said. I’m very sorry. I’ve been really stressed out.”
“It’s all right,” Norman said.
“Are you Melissa’s biological mother?” Michelle asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“She wasn’t abducted, was she?” Norman said.
“No, she wasn’t.”
Maybe it was her in the video?
Maybe she had forgotten meeting the Keeners thirteen years ago?
“Could you make me a copy of this video?” Alice asked Norman.
“Yes,” Norman said.
“And could you make me copies of these documents?” Alice pointed at Melissa’s birth certificates and the adoption order.
“Sure.” Norman took the CD out of the DVD player, picked up the birth certificates and the adoption order, and left the living room.
“Do you live in San Diego?” Michelle asked.
“No,” Alice said.
“Do you have kids?”
“No, I don’t. Do you have other children?”
She must find a way to prove that the woman in the video wasn’t her.
“No.” Michelle’s eyes filled with tears and she wiped them away with her hand.
She didn’t have to prove anything because the adoption order and the birth certificates were fake.
“Norm and I loved Melissa very much,” Michelle said. “She was a happy child.”
But you failed to protect her, didn’t you? She was murdered on your watch, Michelle.
Alice wanted to say that out loud but didn’t, out of politeness.
“Michelle, can you give me Melissa’s pictures? As many as you can.”
“Sure.”
“Do you have any videos of her?”
“Yes, we do.”
“Can you give me a copy of the last one you made?”
“Okay.” Michelle stood up and left the room.
“Are you okay?” Hagan asked in a low voice.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“I think you need some rest.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Have you considered grief counseling?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“What do you need those documents for?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Norman entered the living room and walked up to Alice. His eyes were red. He must have cried in his study.