Behind the Shadows Read Online Free PDF Page A

thirty?”
    â€œYou name it.”
    She searched her mind for a place few others in the newsroom frequented. She didn’t want any questions. Not now. “There’s a sub place two blocks away.”
    â€œOkay.”
    She gave him directions, then hung up and returned to her story. She stared at the computer. Her concentration was gone. So much depended on what Chris had discovered. Possibilities, she reminded herself. Possibilities only.
    Thank God, the story wrote itself. A zoning matter that had a neighborhood in an uproar. It did have the hint of something deeper, though. The councilman representing the district had suddenly reversed himself in favor of a planned multiunit development. She made a note to look into it when she had the time.
    That list was growing. She had little time for enterprise journalism these days.
    She left the building at 12:15 p.m., her heart thumping harder with every footstep.
    He was already there, anchoring a table in the crowded room. Two subs and two teas were already on the table. “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you,” he said as he stood to meet her. “It was getting crowded and I was afraid we would be asked to leave without ordering.”
    â€œThat’s great. Thanks.” She sat and looked at him expectantly. “You said there were two possibilities. Are you sure it’s only two?”
    â€œI’m not sure of anything,” he said. “I said ‘possibilities.’ I’m pretty sure that it’s not the other eleven, though. I eliminated some because of race or physical characteristics. Others because of time of birth. I don’t think a switch could have happened even two or six hours after your birth. It had to be in the first few minutes after birth. Once the doctors determined the baby was critical, she would get immediate attention. Too many people would be involved after that.”
    â€œWho are they?”
    â€œOne’s in North Carolina. She’s married. Three kids.”
    â€œHer mother?”
    â€œHer mother lives in Sarasota with her husband. There’s three other children.”
    Sisters? Brothers? Her heart thumped even faster. She’d always wanted brothers and sisters.
    She desperately wanted to know, but that question could come later. “And the other?” she asked.
    â€œShe lives in metro Atlanta. Fayette County. Married once. Divorced. I have to warn you. She looks a little like the mother who raised her. There’s a lot of photos of both. They’re prominent and wealthy.”
    â€œHow wealthy?”
    â€œVery,” he said, watching her. “Her late grandfather was principal owner and president of a conglomerate.”
    â€œDamn,” she said.
    He raised one eyebrow. “Why damn?”
    Her reaction was instinctive. She never really thought she was a reverse snob, but maybe she was. “If she’s the one, then she has resources to fight any attempt to prove she’s not who she’s always believed she was.”
    The eyebrow went higher. “You would rather the family be poor?”
    â€œI don’t know,” she said, suddenly ashamed. She was prejudging. “Where do we go now?”
    â€œThat’s up to you,” he said. “I could go to them and ask for a DNA sample.”
    â€œThen they might call an attorney who would then contact the hospital, and the media.”
    â€œTrue.”
    â€œI can try to get a DNA sample from the woman here,” she said. “Then we could confirm that she’s Mom’s biological daughter and go from there.”
    He studied her intently. “How would you go about that?”
    â€œTell me more about her,” she said, ignoring his question.
    He handed her two sheets of paper. She scanned them.
    The name “Westerfield” leapt up at her. She knew it well. Ed Westerfield had been a power in the metropolitan Atlanta business community, and a Westerfield was