Behind the Shadows Read Free Page B

mother had lied to her, that she was adopted, but she knew otherwise. She’d already decided that her next step was to request her mother’s medical records from the hospital. She had her mother’s power of attorney, and that should give her access.
    â€œI’ll try to get your mother moved to the top of the list,” Dr. Warner said. “A kidney might be available at any time.”
    She merely nodded. She knew the odds. So many different factors were involved: compatibility, location, need. Although her mother was critically ill, someone might be a little bit more ill.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. “I know how much you wanted to do this.”
    â€œThank you,” she said. All she wanted now was to leave.
    She had much to do. And the first was a visit to the hospital records department.

4
    Two precious days gone, and Kira had little to go on.
    She was tempted to take time off, but she’d taken vacation when her mother had worsened four weeks ago, and she wanted to keep her remaining week for the transplant.
    There would be a transplant. There had to be.
    The how and why of two babies being switched thirty-two years ago didn’t matter as much—at this time—as finding her mother’s daughter. The need for a kidney superseded everything else. Maybe later she would think about a lawsuit to pay off her mother’s growing medical bills.
    She’d put together a list of babies born at the hospital on November 12, 1976. Births were a matter of public record, but it had still been difficult getting them. She had to go through several bureaucratic layers.
    Twenty-one names. She didn’t have the time to check them all out. Not with making her mother think everything was normal as well as tending to a job she loved, and badly needed.
    Pain ripped through her, more agonizing than before. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t certain who she was. Who was her natural mother? Her father? Were they still alive?
    And her mother’s blood daughter. Who was she? Where was she?
    She’d been operating on robot mode, unable to think beyond the next step. Now she knew she needed help. She didn’t have time to do her own investigating. Yet she didn’t know where to turn.
    There were friends at the paper, but then she would have to tell the entire story. She wasn’t ready to do that.
    No, she needed professional help. An investigator who could devote full time to finding … her mother’s daughter.
    Chris Burke!
    The name kept intruding in her thoughts. She’d pushed it away, because she always hated to ask for help. One trait inherited from her mother.
    Another shock ran through her. Not inherited. Taught . You take care of yourself. You don’t ask for help. Her mother lived by that motto. She’d always refused to take government assistance or food stamps. Instead, she’d worked ten and twelve hours a day cleaning occupied houses and cleaning out unoccupied ones. She’d taken Kira with her to do the latter, carting a portable playpen with her.
    She’d finally started her own small house-cleaning business, hiring four other people. But Katy Douglas—and Kira, too—often filled in when one of the cleaners had an emergency. Kira still did the bookkeeping and was trying to keep the business going during her mother’s illness.
    Chris Burke. Chris Burke. The name pounded at her. Maybe he was her only option.
    Chris Burke was a former police lieutenant who quit his job when his wife was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The Burkes had been one of Katy Douglas’s customers, and Kira’s mother had often sat with Risa Burke when her husband had to be gone.
    Both Katy and Kira had attended the funeral. Chris had told them that if he could ever reciprocate for her mother’s kindness, he would. She also knew that after his wife’s death, he’d opened a small investigative agency.
    Katy Douglas’s Clean