Page 15 of Claimed by Him

“Did they? Adopt her, I mean? I know sometimes people think they want a kid, but then the kid’s too much to handle.”

Although she didn’t say it, I got the impression that she was speaking from experience. She’d been thirteen or so when she’d been put into the system, which was the same age I’d been when I’d gone to live with Anton. The social worker who’d come to talk to me and him had gone over some statistics when she thought I hadn’t been listening. I couldn’t remember the exact numbers, but the point she’d made was that babies got adopted, toddlers got adopted, but the older a kid became, the less likely their chances of finding a permanent home. A teenager like me…if Anton hadn’t wanted to take me in, the likelihood that I would’ve been in and out of homes until I aged out was high.

“They did,” I said. “She couldn’t give details, but from what Theresa did tell me, they’re a great family.”

Jenna didn’t try to hide the relief on her face. “And the boys?”

“They were with Helen for less than a year when she decided it was too much work. She’d considered keeping one and handing over the other, but the Marshal talked her into signing over both. They were in the system for less than a month before a family adopted both of them.”

“They were kept together.” Jenna’s shoulders slumped a bit more, like another weight had been taken away.

“The last home visit went well,” I added. “From everything Theresa told me, the three kids Helen had while in witness protection weren’t abused or even neglected.”

Jenna leaned forward and folded her arms on the table. She rested her head on them, face down so I couldn’t see her expression. She didn’t seem to be crying, but I didn’t say anything. I was sure it was a lot to take in.

After a couple minutes of silence, she straightened. “Is that all?”

I shook my head. “There was one more thing. After Helen signed over the twins, the Marshal assigned to her came into Child and Family Services to speak with a supervisor. Theresa didn’t know exactly what was said, but the gossip around the office was that he’d been asking about the possibility of petitioning the court to keep Helen from having any other children.”

Jenna’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“It’s speculation,” I reminded her. “But that is a distinct possibility.”

I didn’t add that if it was true, I was going to look into Helen’s last pregnancy. My gut told me that if she knew she wouldn’t be able to have any more kids, she could’ve been spiteful enough to have done something to the baby, especially since it was only three years later that she’d been arrested here in Fort Collins, when she went back to her old habits.

“That’s a lot to take in,” Jenna said, leaning back in her chair. “I’d known this wasn’t going to be easy, but…” She shook her head. “Thank you.”

“I’m just getting started,” I promised her. “Unless you think it’s too much.”

“No,” she said. “This is good. Knowing.”

I put my notebook back into my purse and stood up. It wasn’t even noon yet, but that was everything I had so far.

“Would you mind staying for a bit?” she asked. “I’m not quite ready to process everything on my own. Could we talk for a little while? Nothing heavy or important. Just stuff.”

I probably wouldn’t have done it for a random client, but I had a feeling that Jenna and I had already started venturing past client / PI territory and into friendship. I didn’t have many friends, and certainly not women. She was someone I both liked and admired, someone I wanted to get to know better.

“Sure,” I said, taking my seat again. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a laugh. “Something. Anything. Tell me something about yourself. Where are you from? Are you seeing someone? Did you do anything fun this week?”

I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head, “I saw an old friend a couple days ago.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow.

She was interested, but I could still see that shadow in her eyes. I understood the need for distraction instead of discussion, so I continued without any real prompting on her part.

“His name’s Clay Kurth. He was a friend of my uncle’s.” The thought of Anton sent a familiar pang through me, but I didn’t dwell on it. “He’s kept an eye on me on and off over the years, but I haven’t seen him in months. He works for the FBI and was just transferred to Denver.”

“A friend of your uncle’s, who works for the FBI stopped by out of the clear blue in the middle of the week.” Jenna got up and went over to the fridge. “And that’s the first thing about this week that you thought to tell me? I’m no PI, but there’s got to be more to the story than that.”

Better to tell her about me and Clay’s personal connection than my past, or my own connection to the FBI.

“Yeah, it’s…complicated.”

She brought over a bottle of water and set it in front of me. “Is it?”

I laughed and shook my head. “No, actually, you’re right, it’s not.” I took a drink before continuing. “First, you need to know that my uncle wasn’t like creepy old or anything, and Clay’s younger than him. He’s older than me, yeah, but it’s not anything…”

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