Mitch had dealt with difficult clients in the past, but he’d never had one who had become glue. He wouldn’t be surprised if she welded the bumper of her car to his so she wouldn’t miss a move.
“Tucker!” she repeated as she reached him. “I almost missed you!”
“And that would be a tragedy,” he replied, pulling keys from his pocket.
“What?”
He sighed. “Nothing. I’m on my way out, so if you don’t need anything urgent—”
“Good! I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you.” She pulled open the passenger door of his car. “Where are we going?”
He withheld an additional sigh. It would be easier to rid himself of his own skin. “To hospitals.”
She frowned. “What are we hoping to find?”
“First, how many females were born in each one on the same day you were. Once we learn that, we find out which doctors and nurses were on duty the same day.”
“Ones who might know something about my birth mother?” Laura questioned. But her voice began to cloud. “How can they possibly remember something that happened so long ago?”
“We won’t know until we try. And we need to explore the possibilities until we receive your birth certificate.”
“What if we can’t get my actual certificate, only the adopted one?”
“Even more reason to do this now. Because our next stop will be contacting each of your relatives to see what he or she might know.”
She slumped in her seat. “The more I learn about this, the more overwhelming it seems.”
Seeing her pain, Mitch ignored his usual reserve and covered her hand. “That’s why I suggested you let me do this on my own. I realize you want to do everything in your power to speed things up, but for someone who’s not familiar with the search process, it can be pretty overwhelming, especially when it’s this personal.”
He could see her struggle, then her face softened subtly. “I suppose so.” She turned in the seat, leaning toward him, her body, face and voice all earnest. “But I can’t just sit by. Can you understand that?”
“Too well. But you’ll have to trust me to direct the investigation.”
“Funny.”
Starting the car, he glanced over at her. “What is?”
“That’s the second time today someone told me to trust.”
“Then maybe it’s time to listen.”
“Mmm.”
But he could feel she wasn’t convinced. Good thing that wasn’t his job. It was one assignment he didn’t think he wanted to tackle. Convincing Laura Kelly of anything other than what she wanted to believe would be a mammoth challenge. And one he didn’t need.
HOSPITAL RECORDS departments all appeared similar to Laura. Dry, boring places with seemingly endless supplies of paper. To think that buried within those reams of paper might be the solitary document they needed frightened her. The task of finding it felt nearly hopeless. But that didn’t deter Mitch Tucker. Efficient and capable, he didn’t appear intimidated by the sheer volume of information or the red tape it took to wade through it.
Still, Laura couldn’t ignore the ticking of her internal alarm system, one that was counting down the time they had left to learn the truth. Yet they managed to visit three hospitals.
Leaving St. Mark’s Hospital, Mitch drew in a deep breath of the humid air. “Can’t abide the smell of antiseptic. Don’t know how people can work in it all day.”
Laura shrugged. “They’re probably used to it. A person can get used to most anything after a while.”
Mitch didn’t look convinced. “Mmm. Why don’t we call it a day. We’ve—”
“What?” Halting, she pivoted to glare at him. “Tucker, you don’t understand. This isn’t like some of your other jobs. We have a pressing deadline! One that’s more important than your playtime.”
He held open the car door for her, his expression and voice remaining even. “We’ve been at it all day. I thought you might like to go and check on that little deadline.”
She blinked, then glanced at her watch. “It’s after six o’clock. I didn’t realize…”
“We covered a lot of ground today, Laura. It’s dinnertime. Why don’t you go home and I’ll head back to the office.”
“The office?”
“I want to check the national database search again, see if I missed anything. Then I need to follow up on some calls and go through the mail. Hopefully, there’ll be some solid leads.”
The breeze kicked up around them, straggling remains of the morning’s storm. Wind tugged at Laura’s hair and she pushed wayward strands away from her face. “But you need to eat dinner, too.”
“I’ll grab something.”
“A hamburger, no doubt,” she said, feeling guilty for her outburst. “That’s not a proper dinner after a long day.”
“I’m used to it.” He drew his brows together as he cocked his head, studying her skeptically. “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about my dining habits?” He shook his head slowly. “Or my welfare?”
Uncomfortable with his scrutiny and her own harsh words, Laura tossed back her hair. “Of course not. But I’m the one demanding the long hours.”
“Feeling guilty, Laura? That doesn’t sound like you. But then, I don’t suppose I know you well enough to say, do I?”
Uncomfortable, she edged back a bit. Ridiculously, ever since her disastrous divorce she had unplugged her radar for dealing with men. It felt safer to exist as a sexless nonplayer than to deal with any more hurt. Mitch Tucker was probably so used to the male-female dance that the motions were as automatic as breathing for him. She doubted he was even aware he was doing them. Laura was certain he’d be amazed to learn how ill at ease she was.
Edging even farther back, she all but fell into the car. “You’re right. We should be going.”
He still looked skeptical. “Did I say that?”
But he took the hint, closing her door, then crossing to the other door and sliding inside the vehicle.
When they reached Laura’s home, she hesitated. “Why don’t you join us for dinner.”
“With the formidable Mrs. Plummer?” He smiled. “Not really my style. But you and the little tiger have a good one.”
Once in the house, Laura shut the front door and leaned against it. Mitch Tucker’s presence was so intense she felt a moment’s relief. Then, oddly, the relief segued into letdown. It was absurd, she knew, yet she couldn’t easily shake the feeling.
Straightening, she gazed down the dimly lit hallway. While the house was as welcoming as it could be without the personal touches it needed, it had never seemed quite so lonely. Aggravated with herself, Laura shook her head. Her life was hardly lonely. She had Alex and even Mrs. Plummer. No, she wasn’t alone.
An interior door opened softly and crepe-soled shoes quietly approached. “I thought that might be you,” Mrs. Plummer greeted her. “I was checking on dinner—we have a nice roast.”
“Just for us?” Laura questioned, realizing she had little appetite.
“I always had a small family, and let me tell you, roasts are not only for crowds. Just because a body doesn’t have a dozen children, that’s