Fatal Identity

Sam took it from him and scanned the text that accompanied the photo. A newborn male by the name of Taylor Rollings had gone missing from a maternity ward in Franklin, Tennessee, located twenty miles outside of Nashville in Williamson County. According to the article, the baby’s kidnapping had been the lead story for weeks in the Williamson Herald and had been picked up by papers and TV news channels around the state.

His parents—Chauncey, a farmer, and Micki, a homemaker—were now in their sixties but had never given up hope of finding their missing son.

“He was taken right out of his bassinet while I was sleeping,” Micki said in the article, “and we’ve never seen him again.” The reporter noted that Micki still weeps when she speaks of the son who disappeared on a cold winter night three decades ago. “I’ll never stop looking for him. As long as I have a breath left in me, I’ll look for him.”

Touched by Micki’s sorrow, Sam skimmed the rest of the article, planning to read everything she could find on the case later. “If you really think you’re the missing son of this family, we could reach out to local law enforcement in Williamson County.”

“What would happen then?”

“They’d probably request DNA and run it against Mr. Rollings to see if it’s a match. That might be a good place to start.”

“But what if it doesn’t match? They’ve been through so much. I’d hate to get their hopes up.”

“That’s a very real concern and one you’ll need to weigh carefully if you’re determined to go through with this.”

“What would you do?”

Sam tried to put herself in his place. “I’d want to know, but that’s my nature. I always want to know everything. I guess that’s why I’m good at my job. I’m not satisfied until I know the truth.”

“I don’t know what to do. You saw what they said about Taylor’s mom, how she still cries when she talks about him thirty years later. What it if turns out not to be true, and I get their hopes up?”

“What if it turns out to be true? What if you’re their missing son? Think about the peace and comfort you could bring them.”

He dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

“May I ask a question?” Shelby said.

Josh raised his head to nod.

“What’s your gut telling you? I’m a big believer in trusting my gut.”

“Me too,” Sam said.

“There’s something to this,” Josh said. “I know there is. I don’t know if I’m this missing kid, Taylor, or not, but when I saw the picture? I felt like I’d been struck by lightning.”

“You should listen to that feeling,” Shelby said.

“I agree,” Sam said. “Maybe there’s a way we can test the DNA without getting the parents involved until we know there’s a match.” She flipped open her phone and scrolled through her contacts to find Dr. Lindsey McNamara’s number.

“Hey, Sam,” Lindsey said. “Heard you were off for a few days.”

“Is that how it’s being played?”

“Well, actually I heard you were suspended for punching Ramsey.”

“I still say he had it coming.”

“You won’t hear any argument from me. So what’s up?”

“I need an off-the-books favor. I have a friend who needs a DNA test done. Do you think you could come by my house and take care of that for him?”

“Um, sure. I’m leaving for lunch shortly. Could I do it then?”

“That’d be perfect. And if you could keep this between us, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course. No problem.”

“I’ll clear you through security.”

“See you soon.”

“Hey, Brant,” Sam said when she ended the call with Lindsey. “Would you please let them know outside that Drs. Harry Flynn and Lindsey McNamara will be coming over shortly?”

“Sure, thing, Mrs. Cappuano. No problem.”

“Thanks.”

“Who was that you called?” Josh asked.

“The District’s Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Lindsey McNamara. She’s a friend and a colleague. I trust her to be discreet.”

“I thought medical examiners worked on dead people.”

“Usually they do, but she’s also a medical doctor and handles DNA testing for us.” She glanced at the stairs. “I need to check on my husband. He’s not feeling well. I’ll be right back down.”

Sam went upstairs to the bedroom, where Nick was exactly where she’d left him. She placed her head on his face and was stunned by how hot he felt. Running back downstairs, she called Harry again and got his voicemail. “Harry, it’s Sam again. He’s scary hot. I’m worried. Let me know if you think I should take him to the ER.”

Sam’s phone rang, and she pounced on it, hoping it was Harry. “Mrs. Cappuano, this is Mrs. Perry at Eliot-Hine. The school nurse asked me to call to let you know Scotty’s not feeling well. He has a fever of one hundred point two. Is it okay if we send him home with his detail?”

Sam’s heart sank at the news that Scotty was sick too. While she’d rather pick him up herself, the agents could get him home faster. “Yes, please. Send him home.”

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_561b2b74-9e36-5045-aa41-0b798495c504)

SCOTTY NARROWLY MISSED throwing up on Sam when she met him on the sidewalk in front of the house. Fortunately, she saw what was happening and jumped out of the way in time for him to puke on the street rather than on her. She patted his back and took tissues from Darcy, one of his agents, to wipe his mouth when he was done.

“Sorry,” he muttered. His face was so pale he barely resembled her robustly healthy son.

“Don’t be sorry. You can’t help it, buddy. You okay for now?”

“I think so.”

Sam wrapped her arm around him to lead him inside. “How long have you felt lousy?”

“About an hour. I was fine and then my head was spinning and my ears were buzzing. Then my stomach started hurting, and I felt really hot.”

“Whatever it is, your dad has it too, and Harry’s on his way.”

Scotty closed his eyes and leaned his head against her. “Okay.”