may have taken his body, but his spirit had stayed strong to the end. “No way.”
“I’m not saying that at all, but it does raise questions for sure.” He paused. “Did anyone live in the house before your family?”
“Yes. The house was a parsonage. My father was a pastor for the church next door. When the church hit some hard times financially, my father decided to buy the house to help them out.”
Brandon frowned. “How could he afford to do that if the church was having a tough time?”
Sonya blinked. “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. I was only a child. Maybe ten or eleven when it happened.”
Brandon tapped his chin and sighed. “Hmm. Well, I’ll keep digging.”
“Was Heather Bradley ever found?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Her stomach twisted into a knot.
“But I did locate her family. They actually live about thirty minutes from here, practically across town.”
“How was Heather taken? Why would her birth certificate be in her diaper bag? Don’t people usually keep those in a safe place?”
He gave her a slow smile that made her heart trip all over itself. His eyes crinkled at the corners. “What?”
“You ask good questions,” he said. “I’m impressed. According to Mr. Bradley, his wife had decided to go shopping Saturday afternoon. She checked the mail, and the birth certificate had arrived. She slipped it into the diaper bag so she wouldn’t lose it. She said she forgot about it until after Heather was taken.”
“Which was the next day. So the kidnapper took the baby and the diaper bag?”
“Right out of the church nursery.”
She nodded. “Right. So how did that happen? Where was security? Wouldn’t someone see the person taking the child and stop him or her?”
He held up a hand at her rapid-fire questions. “Let me explain. Mrs. Bradley said there were two rooms in the nursery. A room that held cribs for sleeping babies and a monitor. The door was shut so the other children could play without waking the ones sleeping. There was a window in the door, but...” He shrugged. “You have to remember this was almost thirty years ago. Security in church nurseries was nothing like it is today. If they even had security.”
“So no one knew Heather was missing until a worker went in the room to check on the other babies.”
“Exactly.”
“And I found the diaper bag with the birth certificate in my mother’s closet.” She paused, her mind racing. Then she looked at him and swallowed hard. “Do you think I’m Heather Bradley?”
Brandon saw the weariness on her face—and a sort of horrified curiosity mixed with embarrassment that she would even consider asking the question. When he didn’t answer right away, she pushed him. “Well?”
Brandon shrugged. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t occurred to me. I think it’s a real possibility. We’d have to prove it—or disprove it—of course.”
“Of course,” she murmured then gave a disbelieving laugh. “I really don’t think I could possibly be her. I mean, it just doesn’t make sense. I’m not adopted.” She swallowed hard. “At least I was never told that I am.”
“I understand that you’d feel that way, but I think it’s something we need to consider and look into.”
She bit her lip and gave a slow nod. “So where do we start?”
“Let me think about it.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “You need some rest. Is there anyone that could stay with you tonight?”
She shrugged. “I’ll be all right.”
“I really don’t think you should be alone. Today was traumatic, a tragedy that’s already playing on every news channel in the country. You probably have the media camped out on your doorstep.”
Sonya froze. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
He knew she hadn’t. “So. Is there anyone you could stay with?”
“I could call Missy Carlisle, I guess.”
“Who’s that?”
“A friend from work. Even though I haven’t been there very long, we’ve become pretty close.”
“Close enough to spend the night?”
“Of course.”
He nodded to the device still strapped to her arm. “Is that your phone?”
Sonya looked at her biceps as though she’d never seen it before. “Yes.” She released the device from the strap and dialed her friend’s number. While she talked, Brandon watched her. When she’d first come into the office, he’d seen her with Erica and wondered about her.
Erica had caught him watching. Later she’d patted his arm and said, “Don’t worry, she’s the real deal. She’s not here to gawk at our resident hero.”
Brandon had rolled his eyes. “Cute, sis. I’m not the one who worries about that and you know it.”
“Well, you have to admit, thanks to the media, we’ve had a few loonies looking to become your next girlfriend.”
He couldn’t help the wry twist his lips took.
A hero.
Just the thought made him shake his head. He wasn’t a hero; he’d just done his job. But the media had dubbed him a hero for being a part of bringing Molly home. Erica’s three-year-old daughter had disappeared while on a field trip with her preschool class.
Brandon had been a detective with the police force in Spartanburg. Banned from working the case because of his relation to Molly, he’d resigned and come on staff full-time with Finding the Lost. They’d brought Molly home three years later. Longer than he’d intended, but at least she was finally home with her mother.
And then he’d been in the right place at the right time two months ago. He’d caught and subdued an abusive husband trying to kidnap his child in the grocery-store parking lot. The media had gone nuts. Grudgingly, he admitted Erica had a point. Put the word hero on a guy and things got interesting—and extremely embarrassing. Not too long after the story broke he’d started getting marriage proposals via mail, email and even text messages.
Women. He’d never understand them. And frankly wasn’t sure he ever wanted to after the fiasco with his fiancée leaving him. All he’d learned was that most women weren’t to be trusted. The only exceptions he knew of were Katie Randall and Erica. He had no doubt they were a different type of woman.
But there was something about Sonya that made him wonder if she fell into the same category
