bringing Abby out to the school to show her off after she was born. She was a lovely little thing – all that curly black hair. Hugh made a joke about Peggy’s ancestors obviously not spending all their time in the Highlands.”
“Abby’s birth date is September 29, 1983,” I said. “Does that date fit with what you know?”
“It does.” Alwyn’s voice was heavy. “The new school year was just nicely underway when Abby was born. We were all thrilled for them. Peggy and Hugh had been trying for years to have a child.”
“So they faked a pregnancy? How could they carry that off in a town the size of Port Hope?”
Alwyn paused before answering. “They weren’t here,” she said. “We were told that there were difficulties. Peggy was hospitalized for months at a hospital in Toronto that specialized in high-risk pregnancies. Hugh spent the summer there with her.”
“And when they came back in September, they had Abby.”
“They were ecstatic. Do you know what the name Abigail means? ‘Father’s joy.’ From the day they brought that child home, she was a joy to them both.”
“Alwyn, do you have any idea why Hugh and Peggy Michaels would go to such lengths to hide the truth? They must have realized that at some point Abby would find out that they weren’t her biological parents.”
“You don’t think they told her?”
“Abby didn’t contact her biological mother until two weeks ago.”
“Hugh and Peggy were killed in a car accident Thanksgiving weekend,” Alwyn said. “Abby must have discovered the truth about her birth when she went through her parents’ papers.”
“Coming so soon after losing both her parents, the news must have been a terrible blow.”
“Especially for someone who’d been as protected as Abby was,” said Alwyn. “At the funeral, I sat with Hugh’s other colleagues. When Abby walked back down the aisle after the service, I couldn’t bear to look at her face. The woman I was sitting next to said, ‘This is the first time that child has ever seen that life can be cruel.’ ”
“You knew Abby,” I said. “Would the shock of discovering she’d been adopted be enough to make her give up her child?”
Alwyn’s tone was curt. “Of course not. Abby was an extraordinarily confident and capable woman. She would have been wounded, but she wouldn’t have been irrational.”
“Alwyn, she drove halfway across the country over winter roads. She was alone with her baby. Anything could have happened. When she arrived here, she was deeply depressed. She was also determined to give Jacob to her birth mother.”
“Those are not the actions of the woman I knew,” Alwyn said flatly. “Something else must have happened.”
“Do you remember what Dr. Buitenhuis used to say? ‘When speculation has done its worse, two and two still make four.’ ”
“He was quoting Samuel Johnson, but I concede the point. Facts are facts, but in this case, I don’t think we know all the facts.”
“Then I guess all anyone can do is deal with the situation as it stands. Jacob is here in Regina and he’s being well cared for. We know the family he’s with.”
“And they’re planning to keep him?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell Nadine.” Her breath caught. “This is going to break her heart, Jo.”
“It will be worse if she comes here. Believe me. Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow morning? We’ll know more then, but for the time being, please just keep Nadine away.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Zack had been watching me intently. When I hung up, he frowned. “To quote one of your favourites, ‘What fresh hell is this?’ ”
“It seems Abby had a partner. Her name is Nadine Perrault, and she was planning to fly here tomorrow to get Jacob.”
“But she’s not coming now?”
“You heard my end of the conversation,” I said. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Shit,” Zack said. “More complications.”
“You think Nadine Perrault has a legitimate claim on Jacob?”
“Hard to say – depends on the nature and duration of her relationship with Abby Michaels. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do tonight.”
“In that case,” I said, “let’s say good night to Taylor and hit the sack. I’ll read you
Zack raised an eyebrow. “Gawain demands a man’s deep and sonorous voice.”
“You’ll be amazed at how sonorous I can be with a couple of ounces of Old Pulteney under my belt.”
The next morning, long before the first blue light of day began to seep through our bedroom windows, Zack’s cell rang. It was Delia. I rolled over and listened as Zack presented his argument about how Delia could best handle the situation facing her. Zack’s voice was low but urgent, and as he and Delia continued talking I could feel his concern. When the call was finally over, Zack turned to face me.
“So what’s next?” I said.
“I don’t know. Delia’s in terrible shape, Joanne. I didn’t know until she told me this morning that she spent half an hour alone in Abby’s car with her body.”
“My God. How did that happen?”
Zack pushed himself up to a seated position. “The men who found Abby’s body were casual workers from the Wayfarers’ Mission. They reasoned, correctly, that they were being paid to shovel snow, not deal with cops. To their credit, these guys tried to do the right thing. Having opened the car door and discovered a scene that, to say the least, must have been traumatic, they went through Abby’s wallet, found Delia’s address and phone number, and used Abby’s cell to call her.”
“What a nightmare. Poor Delia.”
Zack’s shifted his weight, an automatic gesture to protect his skin against pressure sores. “It gets worse,” he said. “Dee assumed the cops had been called, so she showed up at the parking lot alone.”
“Where was Noah?”
“At home with the kids,” Zack said, “confident that the police had everything under control.”
“But nobody had called them.” I moved closer to Zack. “Just the thought of Delia, down there alone with her daughter’s body.”
“As you probably heard, I told Dee to take some time off. We’re having a partners’ meeting this morning. I suggested that her admin assistant could bring in her priority files, and we could divvy them up.”
“But Delia didn’t agree to that?”
“Nope. She says the only thing that’s going to get her through this is work. And to be honest, I understand that. I’m the same way. But she has agreed to let me act as her liaison with Debbie Haczkewicz, and that was a big concession. It was also a smart move. As next-of-kin, Dee has the right to be kept informed about developments in the case, and she figured she could handle it, but she’s never practised criminal law. She didn’t realize what she was letting herself in for.”
“And you do.”
“Yes, and I wouldn’t wish the kind of reports that are going to be coming out of the medical examiner’s office on my worst enemy. Right now the pathologist and his team will be waiting for Abby’s body to thaw so they can start their examination. A uniformed cop will have put paper bags on Abby’s hands to preserve any traces of DNA from her attacker that may be under her nails. And this is only the beginning. The M.E. always says that the answers don’t leap out of the body; his team has to dig for them. As soon as Abby’s body thaws, they’ll be fingerprinting her, swabbing her genitals, taking blood, getting samples of her pubic hair, cutting her nails – well, you get the drift.”
“I do,” I said. “God, Zack, this is terrible. If it were one of our kids… ” I closed my eyes against the image. “It’s going to be hard enough for Delia. This story will be an early Christmas present for the media. A beautiful young woman comes to a strange city, gives away her baby, and is raped and murdered. That picture you took of Abby at the carol service will be everywhere.”
Zack nodded. “And I have a feeling that picture will be with us for a long time. According to Dee, the police don’t have any leads. People were dealing with the blizzard and the blackout. And of course, the snow obliterated
