Page 117 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

He walked down the hall and closed himself inside, taking off his jacket and tossing it over the arm of the couch as he sat down in his chair. “Damn,” he muttered as he stared at the picture. His initial island canvas was officially a bust, but he hadn’t gone into his inquiries with any huge expectations. Luckily, he still had a few avenues to travel. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, pressed on the camera app, took a picture of the photograph in his hand, and attached it to a message for his dad.

Recognize her? Either of them?

Moments later Nate read Nope. He selected Dad’s number and waited through one ring.

“Have a mystery woman on your hands?” Dad asked.

Nate sat back in his chair. “Afraid so.”

“That’s an old picture—looks like early nineties.”

A smile curved Nate’s lips. Dad had been a small-town sheriff for his entire career, but that had never meant he wasn’t as sharp as a tack. Nate had learned from the best. “Twenty-two years.”

“What’s going on?”

“Do you remember the Little Girl Lost story? The four-year-old blond who was left at a diner in Hartford, Connecticut, in the middle of the night? It made the national news.”

“Vaguely.”

“The girl in the picture I sent you is Little Girl Lost and her biological mother. Callie’s Little Girl Lost, Dad.”

“What?”

“It gets crazier.”

“It usually does.”

“They were here on the island. Hours before Callie was found alone at the diner.”

“Huh.”

“Exactly.”

“So, where do things stand? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that seeing Callie hurting is tearing me up.” He settled his elbow on the desk and slid his fingers through his hair. “No one should ever hurt so bad that they cry the way she did.”

“That’s tough, son. I’m sorry.”

He sighed. “I can’t quite put into words how badly I want to find Callie the answers she needs and deserves. We’re starting at square one—the very beginning. Yesterday we found out the woman in the picture is most likely her biological mother. That’s all we’ve got.”

“Sounds like you’re a little short on information, but you’ve got the motivation to move this forward—like you’ve already sunk your teeth in. Now what are your instincts telling you?”

He closed his eyes as he shook his head. “When Callie first told me about her past, her biological mother sounded like a horrible, shitty person, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Why’s that?”

“I tracked down some old video footage from the public access channel. The mother I watched was attentive to her child. She held Callie’s hand in the crowds and was affectionate—bought her ice cream and kissed her cheek while she talked to her. I’m having a hard time believing that she would just leave her daughter. Something about that doesn’t sit right.”

“You’ve shown her picture around?”

“To some of the restaurant and inn owners who haven’t left for the off-season.” He rolled his shoulders. “No one recognizes her.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not too surprised. You know how the summer months are.”

He turned in his chair to look out the window. “Yeah.”

“What’s your next step?”