Page 38 of The Last Close Call

“Sixteen. I was scared to death. I had no idea what I was going to do. And then my mom found out.” She shook her head. “My parents are very religious. They pulled me out of school and made me break up with my boyfriend. My dad was—” She shook her head again. “Well. He blamed my mother.”

“He blamed your mother that you were pregnant?”

She pursed her lips. “They didn’t have the healthiest relationship. It was a division of labor. Basically, he brought home the bacon, and my mom was in charge of everything else. Screwed up, I know. I vowed never to even get married. Yet here I am.”

Finally, she took off the sunglasses. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and he doubted that was only from lack of sleep.

“Michael doesn’t know about any of this. Or that I’ve ever been pregnant. We never wanted kids together. We got married late, and he already has two from his first marriage.”

Jack waited, struggling not to seem impatient as he hung on her every word.

She folded the glasses and set them beside the coffee cup.

“What happened after they pulled you out of school?” he asked, knowing she had to have finished. According to her online profile, she had an MBA.

“I went to live with my aunt in Beaumont. And then my parents got me in touch with Bethany House.”

“Bethany House?”

“An adoption agency. It’s private.”

Jack kept his face neutral, but he was vacuuming up every word in case she suddenly shut down on him. Joy Kendall was forty-five years old, and based on what she’d just told him, he now knew his UNSUB was twenty-eight or twenty-nine, depending on how old she’d been when she gave birth.

She picked up her coffee cup, then set it back down again. “Bethany House is a Christian agency. And it’s known for its discretion. Both those things were important to my parents. If it weren’t for all this genealogy stuff—” She halted. “Well, I guess all that’s good, from your perspective.” She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Again Jack wished Rowan were here. She’d no doubt have something to say, and she’d say it in that empathetic voice that was sure to draw the witness out.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. When Joy opened her eyes, he gave her his most direct look.

“You were saying about Bethany House? Is that in Beaumont?”

Jack would have no trouble finding out, but he wanted to get her answering his questions.

She cleared her throat. “Houston.”

“And do you know the names of the adoptive parents?”

She nodded.

“And do you know his name?”

She nodded.

Jack’s pulse quickened. He stared at her, this conflicted, puffy-eyed woman who held the key to everything.

“Will you tell me?”

***

Bryan strode into the bullpen and spotted Jack at his computer with a stack of files beside him.

He grabbed his desk chair and rolled it over. “We got a print.”

Jack didn’t look up. “On what?”

“The jewelry box. From Evelyn Wood’s closet. We got his fingerprint.” Bryan sank into the chair and rocked back.

“How do you know it’s his?”

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