they were walking up the steps to a grand Victorian house painted gray and trimmed in white. Wide brick steps led to a long porch and an oak door surrounded by narrow, cut-glass windows.
Zach pushed on the bell.
Soft chimes responded in clear, dulcet tones.
Adria’s stomach clenched.
Within seconds, the door was answered by a svelte woman of about thirty, with worried eyes and fingers that moved constantly from the doorjamb to her throat.
“Mrs. Bassett?” Zach asked. “I’m-”
“Mr. Danvers, yes, I know. And this is Ms. Nash,” she guessed. Her smile was friendly but nervous. “Please come in. I did as you suggested and called Portland. They faxed me pictures of you both along with the articles about this London thing. I have to apologize,” she added, leading them past a grandfather clock that ticked in the foyer, to a small room that had once been the parlor. “We don’t pay much attention to anything other than the local news. My husband’s a banker and he’s more informed than I, but I really didn’t know anything about the kidnapping. I was only a child when it happened and I lived in New York City…Ah, well, I’ve rambled on, haven’t I? I’ll call Virginia down and you can speak with her in here. Please, please, have a seat. I’ll have Martha bring you drinks-tea, lemonade, something stronger-?”
“We’re fine,” Zach assured her.
“Yes, well, I’m sure there’s something. Now, if it does turn out that she’s this Slade woman…oh, dear, well, she can’t be looking after Chloe now, can she?” Still fluttering on, she left them alone in a room decorated in soft taupe shades.
Adria sat on the edge of a love seat and Zach stood near the window, staring out across the bay.
While Mrs. Bassett was away, a maid slipped into the room and left a silver tea service on a glass-topped coffee table.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway and Adria braced herself. Would she recognize the woman who may have stolen her away from her natural parents, the woman who had changed the course of her life forever?
“-but I’m not expecting anyone,” a reed-thin voice protested.
“I know, but they say they’re friends of yours, long-lost acquaintances.”
“Really, Mrs. Bassett, I don’t know anyone-”
The voice, like the scent of a sachet locked for years in a forgotten drawer, drifted into the room and caused Adria’s heart to skip a beat. The floor seemed to fall away from her feet as a woman stepped into the room. She was small, birdlike, with graying dark hair and plain features, but when her gaze landed on Adria, she stopped stock-still. “No,” she mouthed, but emitted no sound. What little bit of color had been in her face drained quickly away. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered faintly. Recovering slightly, she asked, “Who-who are you?” She forced a detached smile, but her lower lip trembled slightly.
“Take a guess,” Zach suggested.
“I don’t know-”
“Sure you do, Ginny. This is London.”
Virginia’s eyes darted from one to the other. “London?”
“London Danvers, the girl you took to Montana to live with Victor and Sharon Nash, the girl you pawned off as your daughter though your own child had been dead for years.”
“No!” she said, but she licked her lips nervously. “Mrs. Bassett, I don’t know what kind of lies these people have been telling you, but-”
“The police have been called, Virginia,” Velma said calmly. “If they’re lying-”
“Oh, Mother Mary!” Her hand flew to her chest, covering heart. “You didn’t-”
“Why don’t you explain everything,” Zach said, motioning to a chair. “There’s a chance we can work something out.”
“Oh, my Lord-” she protested, but dropped onto the sofa and gazed out the window to the clouds rolling over the green waters of the bay. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes and ran slowly down her cheeks as her gritty determination gave way to acceptance of what had to be. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
“Tell us, Ginny,” Zach said, relentless while Adria’s heart went out to the woman who seemed to have aged twenty years since stepping into the room.
Velma Bassett stood near the doorway, bracing herself on the painted woodwork as she stared at the nanny she had trusted with her child for over eighteen months.
“I-I didn’t want to do it,” Ginny said, reaching into her pocket and finding a handkerchief to dab at her face. “But it was so much money.”
“What was?”
“I was promised fifty thousand dollars if I would take London away.”
Adria’s heart twisted painfully.
“I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t resist. All I had to do was disappear with the girl.”
“But why? And who?” Zach demanded.
“I don’t know.”
Adria could hold her tongue no longer. “But someone paid you, met with you-”
“It was all arranged over the telephone. At first I thought it was a joke. Then I got a package. Ten thousand dollars. More money than I’d ever seen in my life, and I was called again, offered another forty thousand dollars. All I had to do was leave town. Five thousand dollars more was sent to a private post offfice, and the rest when I got to Denver. From there I was to head anywhere, to put as much distance between myself and Portland as I could. It was supposed to happen earlier, but London wouldn’t go to bed and we almost didn’t make it. I was so scared, but so desperate. Oh, God, what am I going to do now?”
“Well, you’re sure as hell not going to take care of my daughter any longer,” Mrs. Bassett said. “I’ll pay you severance pay, whatever it takes, but, believe you me, you’ll not be spending another night in this house!” So enraged she was shaking, she hurried out of the room and the soles of her prim red pumps clacked loudly on the steps as she hurried upstairs. “Chloe? Where are you?”
Ginny shoved a strand of hair from her face and her fingers quivered. “How did you find me?”
“It took some time,” Zach admitted.
Adria leaned closer. “But surely you know who paid you?”
She shook her head and turned guilt-riddled eyes on Adria. “I don’t have any idea.”
“Man? Woman?”
“Really. I don’t know. I never met with anyone and the money was all in cash-small bills.”
She looked so miserable-her cheeks hollow, her eyes vacant as she dabbed at them-that Adria believed her.
“Someone paid you off.”
“Yes.”
“Someone with a lot of money.”
She nodded, but Adria got the impression she wasn’t listening, that she was remembering the past and how she’d escaped with someone else’s daughter.
“You’ll have to talk to the police,” Zach said.
“I know.”
“It may not be easy.”
She turned haunted eyes up at Zach. “It never has been,” she admitted. “For twenty years I’ve looked over my shoulder, expecting this day to come. I knew you were back in Portland, you know,” she added, staring at Adria. “I heard it on the news. Saw your face, listened to your story, knew that you’d be reunited with your family.”
“You could have run,” Adria said.
Ginny gave a self-deprecating little snort. “Where to? I really didn’t think you’d find me.” She pushed herself upright. “You look just like her, you know. It’s…well, it’s scary.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Why didn’t you come forward for the reward?” Zach asked.
She just stared for a minute. “Because Witt Danvers would have killed me for taking his little girl.” She cleared her throat. “Would you give me a few minutes to get my things?” she asked with a weak smile. “Then I’ll go with you to talk to the police.”
