Deadly Disclosure

“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.” She moved her finger down the paper. “And here is the issue date. It’s over a year later. There’s no reason for it to be any more than a month or two after the fact unless the time was needed to finalize an adoption.”

The pounding of Hannah’s heart moved to her head until the edge of the room turned fuzzy. “So, it could be true. My birth certificate proves it.” Tacky sweat inched through her blouse and the fuzziness stood at the edge of her vision, threatening to consume her.

“Whatever is going on, it’ll be fine. Trust in the Lord to reveal whatever you need to know when you need to know it. And from the looks of it you have a valiant protector in Derek.” Mallory’s lowered tone fought through the haze. “It doesn’t change who your parents are or who you are.”

Hannah gulped in breaths that didn’t seem to reach her lungs. The fuzziness marched in on her like a swarm of grasshoppers. Through the haze, she saw Mallory come back around the desk and sit in the other client chair. Her warm hand covered Hannah’s, her smooth, reassuring touch a rhythmic call back to the present.

“I need to talk to my mother.” She forced a strong tone, one she didn’t feel but desperately needed to push away the dark cloud that threatened to envelop her. “And my father.” Oh, her father. What would he have to say about this?

“Yes. Talk to them. And at some point, you may want to search for your birth mother.” Compassion flooded Mallory’s voice, and Hannah appreciated her delicacy. “But I want to warn you. If you do search, you may not be happy with what you find. Or you may not find anything at all. We don’t know how much the FBI knows about her past, her circumstances or even her location.”

The surrealistic nature of those options settled on her shoulders like a heavy cloak, and Hannah couldn’t force out an answer.

Mallory patted her hand. “Talking to your parents is a good place to start. But whatever news they may have, if any at all—” she paused for emphasis “—try to stay calm. Now, I will help you in any way I can if this turns out to be true. I’m willing to talk anytime, and now you have my personal phone number.” She scribbled on the back of a business card and pressed it into Hannah’s hand. “Go now, if you feel you need to, and the job is here whenever. A lot has happened, so take whatever time you need.”

After flashing her boss a grateful look, Hannah focused on the seven digits on the card until she could stand steady. “What a day.” Her stomach flip-flopped. Her parents had some explaining to do. She knew what her next move was—to get some answers and, hopefully, to stay safe.

* * *

“Are you two all right?”

Derek accepted the firm handshake of his old pal Reid Palmer. “We’re fine. Thanks for your help down there.”

“No problem. You’ve got a lot going on.”

“Yes, but not as much as Hannah. She just found out she’s adopted, her birth father is a Mafia boss and I’m the one who had to tell her.” He crossed his arms over his chest and touched his fingers to the thumb break on his shoulder holster. “Hannah’s really shaken up, understandably so. But she’s resilient. Tougher than she used to be. She’s going to need to be, with the danger she’s in.”

From his vantage point down the hallway, Derek saw the door to Mallory’s office swing open. But no one emerged.

He hadn’t let down his guard since the attack less than an hour ago, despite the fact that he saw the shooter speed away. But surely they were safe up here. There were only two doors to the suite of offices. The back door was locked, and Derek and Reid stood within view of the front door. No one had come or gone.

He moved to the window at the end of the hallway that overlooked the parking lot. The truck had not returned. But the office only faced out one side of the building, so he had no way to check all entrances and side streets. Wherever Hannah thought she was going next, Derek would not leave her side.

Voices filtered down the hallway, but he couldn’t make out any words. He nodded toward the open door. “What do you make of that?”

Reid shrugged. “They’re almost done.” Apparently, his friend wasn’t on alert, despite his own little difficulty a year or so ago with his wife, Samantha. At the time she had been on the run from a thug who had tried to kidnap her adopted daughter, Lily, and had crashed into Reid’s car. The end result was a harrowing two days and eventually their wedding. “Congrats on your graduation from the FBI academy, by the way. You were one of the best officers on the Heartwood Hill PD to work with, but sometimes we move on to other things. This your first assignment?”

“Yes. Quite a start, don’t you think?”

Reid raised his eyebrows. “Is there a history here? With Hannah?”

“Yes.” Derek jammed his hands in his pockets. “That’s why I’m here. My supervising agent thought it best if the FBI sent someone Hannah knows. What they don’t know are the details of our past.”

“And?”

“We dated secretly in high school our senior year. Her family is super wealthy and upper class. My aunt and uncle were most definitely not upper class. We knew her parents would never approve, so we kept it a secret. Nearly every Friday night, we would go to the library to study. She just didn’t tell her parents that she was with me. We would drive in to the Indianapolis library, where no one knew us except the librarians, and they didn’t care.” Images of a seventeen-year-old Hannah contrasted in his thoughts with the Hannah he had rescued today. She had only grown more beautiful. More compelling.

“Let me guess.” A frown creased Reid’s brow. “Someone found out.”

Derek nodded. “Her father.” He shrugged, but tension made it difficult to relax his shoulders again. “I don’t know how. I just know that one day we were planning on attending college together, and the next, I was summoned to the McClarnons’. Her father told me clearly that I was to leave her alone. What else could I do? Mr. McClarnon was—is—a powerful man. I didn’t want to get on his wrong side. I knew I wasn’t good enough for her anyway. We had been naive to think that a relationship could work.”