Dead Giveaway

picture would be complete.'

Lawrence suddenly rose, still shaking his head. 'You're lying. All of you. Why, Pops? Why do this to me?'

'Son, have I ever lied to you?'

Lawrence had gone white around the lips, and I could see he was trembling. He turned to the guard. 'I want to go back to the cellblock. I'm done here.'

He looked confused and lost, and at that moment I was certain Lawrence did not know or yet believe his baby, the child he conceived with Sara Rankin, was alive.

Suddenly, Lawrence bolted, the guard hot on his tail.

Jeff was already on his feet, headed for the door. 'I want him back here.'

'Maybe we should leave him be?' Thaddeus said. 'It hasn't sunk in.'

'Wait, Jeff,' I said. 'I've got an idea. Before we drag him back unwillingly, I know someone who might make this easier.'

Ten minutes later, after Chaplain Jim Kelly had arrived and we filled him in, he said, 'Do you think that what you're on to will free Lawrence?'

'I can't promise anything,' Jeff said.

Thaddeus's shoulders slumped, and I rested a hand over his. 'But if you can help get Lawrence to tell us about his relationship with Sara Rankin, we'd be a lot closer to the truth about Verna Mae Olsen's murder.'

'In good conscience, I must have Lawrence's permission to speak about what I know,' Kelly said quietly.

'Will he come back here with you?' I asked.

'He might. I'll try,' the chaplain said.

Once Kelly was gone, I noticed dabs of sweat bordered Thaddeus's hairline, and he, too, looked pale around the mouth.

'Could you get me my bag, Abby?' he asked.

I handed it to him, but he was shaking too badly to unzip it. He asked for the glucose monitor, and Jeff was the one who ended up pricking Thaddeus's finger. After the blood was applied to the little strip, the number that appeared seconds later was 530.

'That's bad, right?' I said.

'I've seen better,' Thaddeus replied, his voice weak.

'I'm taking him to the clinic,' Jeff said. 'You handle this, Abby. You've talked to Lawrence before and the less people staring at him, demanding answers, the better. Learn what you can.'

As Jeff wheeled him out, Thaddeus raised a hand and brushed my arm. 'Make my boy help himself. Please.'

I was concerned about Thaddeus, and when Kelly arrived with a now handcuffed prisoner, Lawrence must have read my anxiety.

'Where's Pops? Is something wrong with him?' he asked.

'He wasn't feeling well. Sergeant Kline took him out for some air,' I answered. Sometimes the whole truth is not beneficial.

'You made an old man sicker than he already was. You happy now?' Lawrence said.

Kelly put a hand on Lawrence's shoulder. 'I believe this woman wants to help you and your father. You need to tell her the truth. Tell her what you told me.'

Lawrence looked sideways at Kelly. 'I don't know. She comes here with her stories, brings my father out of a sickbed and—'

'Sit down and start talking,' Kelly said. 'That's what you do with me.'

Lawrence closed his eyes, let out a heavy sigh. And then he sat.

Kelly took Jeff's abandoned chair.

'You haven't tricked my father into thinking I have a son, right?' asked Lawrence.

'No, I haven't. You do have a son, and though I've known it since I first saw Will Knight's resemblance to you, we now have scientific proof.'

'I don't get it,' Lawrence said, shaking his head. 'How could this be true? And how did you find out about Sara?'

'That's a very long story. Jessica Roman convinced me that that you and Sara were lovers. You conceived a child.'

'Yes,' Lawrence said, his gaze beyond my shoulder, as if he were looking back in time. 'God, we were happy.'

'I'm here to help you.' I leaned forward, hands between my knees.

'But Sara fell. She died. I thought our baby died with her. Died because of me.' Lawrence's voice was strained, his expression again confused.

Kelly said, 'We've worked on this, Lawrence. It wasn't your fault. You were in the Harris County jail when the accident happened.'

'But she ran away because she was pregnant,' Lawrence said. 'Ran from her parents. If she hadn't, then she'd be alive.'

'There was no mission trip?' I asked.

'That's what the pastor and his wife told everyone when she disappeared. She'd left them a note—we wrote it together—saying she had to leave home to take care of someone in need. It was the truth, in a way.'

'That's how it became a mission trip to them, I guess. Did she even plan on telling them about the baby?' My guess was no.

'We talked about what to do, who to tell. Sara was underage and we were sure her parents would make us give the baby away, so we couldn't go to them. And if you knew Sara—' He stopped, closed his eyes.

'Sara knew what she wanted, right? She wanted you and the baby?'

'Yes. And I wanted what she did.'

'You did some shopping before she left town, though. Bought some baby things?' I asked.

Lawrence looked at me. 'How did you find out about the blanket?'

'Not important. She ordered it, you picked it up, right?'

He nodded. 'She'd seen that blanket when she was shopping with her mother in this British store. She said she had to have one nice thing for our kid.'

'She was already gone on the so-called mission trip by the time you picked up the blanket, though. You two must have been in touch, right?' I asked.

'We were afraid to. Thought someone might find

out, give us up to her parents. We'd planned ahead for Sara to sneak back to Houston after I'd had time to pull together some money.'

'She left town, then came back?'

He nodded. 'She'd taken a bus to Dallas, stayed in some shelter. It seemed like a good thing—they don't tell the cops anything about runaways—so she stayed in one when she came back to Houston, too. I'd asked a few uncles for some cash, worked extra shifts sacking groceries. I had a couple hundred bucks to give her.'

'Plus, you needed to see each other, right?' I said, thinking how even two days away from Jeff made me crazy.

He sighed. 'It was hard being apart. Keeping secrets from everyone.'

'These people you asked for money assumed you needed it for your family's medical expenses? Your mother's cancer treatment?'

Lawrence cocked his head. 'You've been doing a lot of reading about me.'

'You better believe it. Go on and answer the question,' I said.

'The cop who arrested me? Dugan? That was his theory—that I was trying to get money for Mom. I never said that. Anyway, the night they arrested me was the night Sara and I met.' He paused, took a deep breath. 'I gave her the money and the keys to my car. I kissed her good-bye and never saw her again.'

I smiled inwardly, one tiny puzzle piece falling into place. 'The police didn't find your car, but not because you dumped it to hide evidence or sold it for cash. Sara drove it away.'

He nodded.