Chapter Forty-Three
‘When’s the baby due?’
Rainey opened the door fully. ‘On Wednesday.’ She pressed a hand to her rotund abdomen, the bulge of the baby sitting low, poised for its arrival. ‘Can’t come soon enough, I’m telling you.’
‘You must be very uncomfortable.’ Rachel thought back to the last few days of her own pregnancy, and how every hour had seemed like a week.
‘You got that right. I’m exhausted. You got kids?’
Rachel nodded. ‘One.’
‘Well then you probably remember this bit ain’t much fun.’ She looked Rachel up and down and seemed to relax a little. ‘I guess you may as well come in. Standing makes my back ache.’
Rachel followed her into the apartment and sat down at the table in the neat, homely kitchen. Through the doorway that led from the hall into the bedroom she glimpsed a white bassinet, a heap of tiny pink clothes and a huge packet of newborn disposable nappies.
Rainey put the kettle on and made them each a herbal tea. ‘So you know my gramma?’
Rachel gave a brief summary of the fake research study. ‘I went to talk to Norma yesterday.’ When she could have saved me a lot of time and effort by telling me about the baby, she thought, exasperated. ‘I’m sorry; she didn’t mention you being pregnant.’
‘She doesn’t know,’ admitted Rainey. ‘I guess I should call her.’
‘Before Wednesday might be a good idea,’ smiled Rachel, as Rainey put a Japanese teapot and two matching porcelain cups on the table and lowered herself heavily onto a chair.
‘What about the father?’ asked Rachel. ‘Does he live here?’
Rainey nodded. ‘Luke. He’s at work.’
Rachel showed her the family tree in her notebook and then wrote in Luke’s name to the right of Rainey’s, which seemed to please her.
‘The baby’s going to be called Lark,’ she told Rachel. ‘Can I put her in too?’
‘Of course.’ Rachel handed her the notebook and pen. Rainey wrote the name slowly, in a clear, childlike hand, then held it up and admired it.
‘This is so cool… oh, wait, you haven’t put in Cadence.’
‘Cadence?’
‘Cadence Rowe. Ethan’s sister.’
Rachel frowned. ‘Really? I could swear Ethan and Norma told me Kathleen only had boys.’
‘I guess I mean half-sister.’
Rachel took the notebook back and looked at her drawing. ‘I thought his half-sister was called Harley?’
‘Harland. That was his daddy’s little girl from before Ethan was born. But my mom told me that the reason Ray dumped Kathleen and took off was because he got another woman pregnant, right around when Ethan was born. And that baby was Cadence.’
‘Ah.’ An alternate suspect, thought Rachel, her heart speeding. She wrote the name down on the family tree. ‘Do you know her?’
Rainey shook her head. ‘But I heard plenty about her. From my mom, and my gramma.’
‘What do you mean?’
Rainey grinned. ‘You know what; I was no angel growing up, but from what I heard, Cadence was way worse. I mean way worse.’ She caressed her belly with satisfaction.
‘In trouble with the law.’
‘What – drugs?’
‘Worse stuff. Violent stuff. She’s a quite a piece of work from the sound of it. And now Ethan… they must get it from the Rowe side. Ray was a dark character I heard; you wouldn’t wanna trust him.’
‘Well, thank you, that’s all interesting material.’ Rachel gave a tight smile. ‘For the study. Do you know where Cadence lives?’
Rainey shook her head. ‘On the east coast somewhere I think, like Harland.’
‘Are the two of them close?’
‘I doubt it. Knowing the way Ray was with family, they probably never even met.’ Rainey was shifting uncomfortably. Rachel stood up and cleared the tea things into the sink. ‘I’ll leave you to rest, but thanks so much for seeing me. And if you think of anything else…’
Rachel reached reflexively for her wallet to take out a card, then remembered that her cards said she was a police detective from the National Crime Agency, International Division. She ripped a sheet from her notebook and scribbled her mobile number on it. ‘And don’t forget to call your grandmother and tell her about the baby!’
Rachel’s instinct was to phone Perez as soon as she had returned to her hotel, but it was Sunday evening and she reluctantly decided she should leave him in peace until the morning. There was no further investigative progress she could make until then, even though the kaleidoscopic picture had shifted, making the delinquent Cadence Rowe the most promising lead.
After another fitful night’s sleep, she waited until the sun was up then reached for her phone and dialled.
‘It’s a little early, Prince-ess.’ His tone was good-natured.
‘Sorry.’
‘So what happened – didn’t that address check out?’
‘It did, thanks. But it wasn’t the girl I’m looking for, so now I need you to find me another one.’
‘You have a name and date of birth?’
‘Not a date of birth, but I know she’s around twenty-four.’
‘You know what: I’m on the freeway right now. Email me what you have and I’ll get back to you after I’ve checked in at work.’
‘Be sure and give my love to Frank Gonzales.’
Perez laughed. ‘I’m sure he remembers you fondly too.’
An email from Mike Perez appeared in her inbox around an hour later, after she had done some circuits in the hotel gym, showered and had coffee.
No record of a Cadence Rowe anywhere. Is there another relative who might be able to fill in the gaps?
Rachel consulted her amateur attempts at genealogy, and wrote:
Only two possibilities, I think – father Raymond Rowe, born in Oregon, and his older daughter Harland Rowe. Born 1980s? That’s all I have. Do your best x
She checked out of her room, stowed her bag in the car and walked through the Fields park on the edge of the river. A light breeze blew wisps of cloud through a hazy spring sky and she strolled briskly, feeling energised and purposeful. Although if Perez could not help this time, she was not sure of her next move. Five days of her trip down, only six to go.
Perez phoned her as she reached her car again. ‘I’ve found Raymond Rowe.’
‘Fantastic, thanks.’
‘That was the good news. The bad news is, he’s dead. Died two years ago.’
‘Oh.’ Rachel stopped in her tracks, her heart thumping. ‘And the sister?’
‘I only found one Harland Rowe. Aged thirty, living near Baltimore.’
‘That must be her.’
Perez read out the address.
‘Hold on…’ Rachel scrambled in her bag for her pen and wrote it down.
‘So I guess it’s next stop Baltimore, Ms Prince?’
She gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Another day, another city: that’s how I roll.’
The rental car was due to be returned in Madras, but Rachel was not about to drive for two and a half hours to hand it over, only to turn straight round and fly back to Portland. She phoned HandyCarz and explained that due to circumstances beyond her control she would be forced to leave the vehicle at Portland International Airport. A disgruntled employee informed her that an additional ‘relocation’ charge of $450 would be placed on her credit card. Time is money, she told herself, and it seemed hers was currently rated at $200 per hour. On leave meant not on expenses.
Direct flights between Portland and Baltimore were another time saver, as was the available seat on one due to leave at midday. Rachel sprinted down the jetway and buckled herself in with the same sort of excitement she remembered from childhood car journeys to the seaside.
She was getting closer, she could feel it.