The Homecoming by Anne Marie Winston Page A

and Mrs. Logan. I’ll be in touch within the week to let you know how the investigation is going.”
    â€œThank you,” Terrence said.
    â€œYes, thank you,” Leslie echoed. “You can’t imagine what it means to us to learn that our son is living.” A smile lightened the sorrow in her eyes. “After all these years…it’s a miracle.”
    â€œThen I’ll do my best to ensure that your miracle stays out of prison,” the P.I. said.
    Â 
    Within an hour, Danny’s lawyer and the police chief had arrived. Danny and the chief watched through ahastily set up video feed while Danny’s lawyer questioned Sydney. She’d agreed to answer the man’s questions without any hesitation. She’d even asked Danny if he wanted to listen, and had looked disappointed and unhappy when he’d refused. Oh, she was good. No doubt about it.
    â€œTell me why you think your son is Noah Crosby, Ms. Aston. You say you got him under questionable circumstances?”
    â€œIt’s Miss,” Sydney said quietly. She linked her fingers in her lap. “Four years ago, in January of 2001, I received a call from a woman who’d been a friend—an acquaintance, really—from college. She said she’d gotten my name from another friend and wanted to visit while she was in Seattle. That’s where I was living at the time.”
    The lawyer made an encouraging noise, and Sydney went on. “When she arrived, she had her son with her. She said he was about a year old, but she was evasive about his birthday. Also, I remember thinking that she and the child didn’t seem bonded. The baby didn’t seem to find her particularly comforting, didn’t look for her or hold up his arms when she came near. It was…odd. But at the time, it didn’t seem significant. Margo, my friend, looked bad. Her clothes weren’t especially clean and she had a bruise down the side of her face and several more on her arms that she tried to keep covered. She was dead broke and if I had turned her away she would have had to go to a shelter. So I let them stay with me. Eventually Margo confided inme. She said the baby’s name was Nicholas—Nick—and that his father was dead. She said the bruises were from a boyfriend who’d gotten abusive. I think his name was Charlie or Chuck, something like that. I’m afraid I don’t really remember.”
    â€œIt’s all right. Go on.”
    â€œThey stayed with me for three weeks and I adored little Nick. He seemed to like me, too, and I told Margo she could stay as long as she needed. But one day when I got home from work, Margo was gone. Nick was alone in my apartment in the crib I’d bought, screaming his poor little head off.” She took a deep breath. “On the floor by the bed was a paper bag and in the bag…in the bag was one hundred thousand dollars. In cash!” She sounded sincerely shocked. After a moment, she gathered herself again.
    â€œI put the money in the bank and got a neighbor to baby-sit during the day. I was sure Margo would be back soon. Who in the world walks away from a precious child like that?”
    Not to mention the money, Danny thought. But Sydney never said another word about it.
    â€œOne day, when she’d been gone for a little more than three weeks, I saw on the news that they’d found a woman’s body caught on some branches in a stream in the mountains outside Seattle.” She put a hand to her throat and Danny could see horror on her face. “They identified her through dental records. It was Margo.”
    â€œThe baby’s mother.” The attorney wore no expression as he listened.
    â€œYes. Or so I believed at the time.” She unclasped and relaced her fingers in the first sign of nerves she’d shown.
    Maybe the first part of the story was true, Danny thought. She sure hadn’t sounded like she was lying. But the lies were