“She’s alive? Is she all right?” What this had to do with her, Hannah had no idea. But it was an interesting story. She uncrossed her arms and leaned on the desk, anxious to hear the rest of the tale.
“She’s alive, and we have agents looking for her. Through the mother, we believe, that captain has also found the daughter. As you can imagine, we’re not anticipating a happy family reunion. Both of them are in danger.” Derek leaned forward in his chair, an intensity lighting his brown eyes, and enveloped her small hands in his. “Hannah, you are the daughter.”
“I’m what?” Her heart seemed to stop for a moment as she scrambled to process what this would mean. The huge upset it would cause to her world. But it couldn’t possibly be true. She was a McClarnon. Wasn’t she? She shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes closed to lessen the dizziness that threatened her, and pulled her hands away. “That can’t be right. You’re thinking of someone else.”
“No. You are the daughter.” He spoke slowly as if giving her time to breathe in between each word. “You’re adopted.”
“And how do you think you know this? I haven’t seen you since high school, and now you show up out of the blue to tell me that I’m not the daughter of my parents? How dare you!” She moved to pound a fist on her desk, but Derek grabbed her hand.
“I’m sorry, Hannah.” He held her hands in both of his once again as he recounted all the pertinent details of this child’s birth—the place, the date, the time.
With each statement, Hannah wanted to tell Derek it wasn’t possible, that the little girl couldn’t have possibly been her. But her throat had choked each time, like trying to swallow a pill that was too big for her. “So, Mother and Father are...” If all this was true, what were they?
“They’re still your mother and father. Your relationship with them hasn’t changed and doesn’t need to change. But now you know they are your adoptive parents. Your mother didn’t give birth to you.” He looked around the cubical as if trying to give her a little space. “So you had no idea you were adopted?”
“No, assuming that what you’re telling me is even true, which I doubt. They’ve just always been my parents. Why would I think anything else?” She paused as his words sank into her consciousness. Her mind could barely absorb it all. Didn’t want to absorb it all. “You said the mother and daughter were in danger. So, that’s why that guy shot at me? He knew who I was even before you told me what you know? I thought I knew who I was, but now I’m not so sure.”
“You are still the same person, Hannah. But yes, he was here for you. That’s why I’m here. To protect you. I just didn’t think they’d find you so fast.”
“So, was that the man who you say is my birth father? Do you think he’ll be back?” She fluttered her hands to her neck, but it didn’t soothe her like she had hoped.
“No, most likely it was not your birth father. He may be in the area nearby, but he would have sent one of his men. And yes, that man will be back.”
“What else do you know? I need to know everything.”
“There’s not much more, I’m afraid. We’ve never had enough evidence to arrest him, so our knowledge is limited. I’ve just been brought on the case recently because of my—” he cleared his throat “—friendship with you. My supervising agent believes that your birth father thinks you may know something or have something that would incriminate him. For that reason alone, he would be willing to eliminate you.”
Hannah’s stomach flip-flopped at the word eliminate. “As we have already established, I didn’t even know I was adopted. That is, if it’s even true. How could I possibly incriminate him? I have several favorite things from when I was a child, but they all came from my parents.” She took a mental inventory of her old belongings. Her father had encouraged her to clean out some things from her childhood, but she couldn’t bear to part with them. Sentimental, he’d called her. A pack rat. But she hadn’t seen the harm in keeping a few boxes of mementos in the back of the closet. “I honestly can’t think of anything.”
“Perhaps there’s nothing, but my mission right now is to keep you safe.”
“So far, you’ve done a fine job.” Hannah forced a smile. She might not trust Derek any longer with her heart, but she would trust him with her life. “I think I better talk to Mallory and fill her in.”
“I’ll wait outside the door if you’d like some privacy.”
She stood and Derek followed suit. “For now, yes, I’d appreciate that.”
As she made her way toward Mallory’s office, Hannah shot a glance back at Derek and mouthed thank you, then whispered a prayer for calmness and wisdom as she knocked on her boss’s door. Surely, she was safe here in the building. The shooter had left. But it was still a comfort to know that the broad-shouldered, strapping FBI agent would be nearby with his trusty weapon at the ready. Just in case.
At Mallory’s call to come in, Hannah opened the door and stepped inside. Her boss sat behind her desk and pointed Hannah toward a floral upholstered chair. She clutched her skirt in her fists and teetered on the edge of the chair. “Do you have a few minutes?” She licked her dry lips.
“Of course.” Mallory came around the desk and sat in the other client chair, waiting for Hannah to continue.
Hannah pushed herself back into the upholstery. She wasn’t really sure what she was asking for, if anything. After all, she’d only been working there a few weeks, and now she was apparently causing a threatening situation to the office. Mallory didn’t seem upset about it, but could this cost her the summer job? Who would want an intern who brought danger to the premises?
After law school, it would be back to her parents’ mansion and the life of a spinster, pro bono attorney. At least she could practice law, after a fashion. She and her father had reached a truce, and she was determined to keep her end of it for the sake of her family. But for now, this was her freedom. “I’m not quite sure how to approach this, but you need to know. Derek is here to protect me. It seems the FBI is investigating a crime family with which they think I have some connection.”
Mallory’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but otherwise she maintained a neutral lawyer’s expression.
Hannah clutched her skirt more tightly. “It turns out that I’m adopted. At least, that’s what they say. Derek says my birth father is with the Mafia, and he’s looking for me.” She let out a long breath, which she’d been holding, seemingly since Derek had broken the news.
“Wow. That’s some big news.” Mallory leaned forward and laid a hand on Hannah’s forearm. “Why does the FBI believe you’re adopted?”
“Details of my birth. Adoption records. Derek’s just recently become involved.” She raced through a dozen different memories from her childhood, but no clue emerged about her adoption. “I have my birth certificate, and Father and Mother are listed as my parents, but I can’t say I’ve ever read it thoroughly.”
“Your birth certificate wouldn’t show that you were adopted, except for the discrepancy in the dates. Your parents would have a court-issued decree that finalized the adoption.”
Hannah furrowed her brow. “What do you mean by a discrepancy in the dates?”
“The firm has copies of your birth certificate and your driver’s license in your personnel folder from when you began employment here. I can pull it up if you’d like.” Mallory returned to her desk and her computer. Soon, a printer on her credenza was spitting out a copy of Hannah’s birth certificate, which her boss handed over.
Hannah stared at the dates but had no idea what she was looking for. Her heart thumped, but she didn’t move so she wouldn’t betray her anxiety. “What should I see here?”
Mallory leaned over the desk. “Your birth certificate has definitely been amended. See? Here is your birth date.”