because Harcourt had taken payoffs and bribes to falsify adoption records for decades before his death.
Kelly had done everything in her power to restore the agency’s reputation and fulfil its mission of bringing together God’s needy children and worthy parents. The series of positive personal stories that first Jared and now Lori were currently writing for the paper was intended to get that message out to the public. Lori could only hope that this latest catastrophe would not set things back, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to cover the story. Quite the contrary. It was her job to report the news, and better her than someone who had no personal knowledge of the workings and value of the agency.
Lori thanked the firefighter and hurried toward the building. She was rehearsing what she was going to say to get past the uniformed officer at the entrance when Kelly’s husband, Ross Van Zandt, stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Van Zandt was a man’s man, tall and solid, with dark hair and eyes and a beard so heavy that more often than not he appeared to be in need of a shave. Since his marriage, he’d been an active member of Chestnut Grove Community Church, along with his wife. Consequently, Lori knew him well enough to use his given name.
“Ross!”
Looking her way, he acknowledged her presence with a resigned nod. “That didn’t take long,” he said wryly as she hurried up.
“This one’s a God-do,” she told him. “I was coming in to confer with someone about my own situation and blundered into the middle of this. They’re saying someone broke in and set a fire. How bad is it?”
Ross sighed and parked his hands at his waist, obviously considering the wisdom of speaking to any member of the press, even Lori. She couldn’t blame him for his wariness. As a private investigator and former cop, not much got past Ross; he knew well that attention could help as much as hurt, but his wife was the director of the adoption agency, and anyone who knew them understood that Ross would walk through fire before he allowed anything to harm Kelly or her precious agency. On the other hand, if anyone knew what was going on and whether or not to comment, it would be Ross.
After a moment he turned back inside and waved her along with him, apparently having weighed the options and decided that a fair report was his best choice. Lori wrinkled her nose at the smell of smoke, picking her way around puddles and emergency personnel in the outer offices. As soon as they were assured of a modicum of privacy, Ross began to speak in a confidential tone.
“It looks bad, but the damage is mostly cosmetic.” Lori heaved a silent sigh of relief and made a note on her pad. Ross went on. “The safety sprinklers caused the most damage, frankly, so the fire was the least of it.”
“Any idea where it started?”
“The blaze was contained in the file room.”
“Sounds like someone wanted to destroy records.”
“Yeah. I’d say that was pretty much the idea.”
“In other words,” Lori surmised, “Tiny Blessings still has an enemy out there, and with the files destroyed, it’s going to be tough to figure out who it is.”
Ross leaned in close, murmuring, “Off the record?”
Lori nodded and for emphasis clicked her pen to retract the writing point. “Sure.”
“We didn’t lose much. Months ago I began systematically scanning all the files and backing up the entire computer system on a daily basis.”
“But that’s good, isn’t it? Why keep it off the record?” Lori asked.
“It’s good for us,” Ross pointed out. “Maybe not so good for the perpetrator. No point letting him or her know that this little exercise wasn’t successful.”
“Maybe that way there won’t be a repeat performance,” Lori said. “I understand, and thank you for trusting me with this information.”
“I didn’t want you to worry that Lucia’s records had been destroyed,” he told her, his dark eyes full of compassion.
She knew her smile was wan, but it was the best she could do at the moment. “Thanks, I appreciate that. I’m just not sure it’ll make any difference.”
“We’ve heard about the custody suit,” he said. “I’m sorry, and I know Kelly is, too.”
Lori tried to smile. “Thanks again. I was hoping to speak to Pilar about it, but obviously that’s not going to happen, so I guess there’s no point in me hanging around here. At least I got the story first. If you’ll just give me a few more particulars, I’ll be on my way.” She tapped the notebook with her ink pen.
“No problem,” Ross said, leading her back into the inner offices. “I’ll let you take a look around, too, if you like, but don’t go running off until you’ve spoken to Kelly. I know she wants to tell you something.”
Taking heart from that, Lori did her job and followed him through the dripping rooms right to the scene of the crime.
“I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do,” Kelly said, perched on the edge of her painfully neat desk. She wore a short-sleeved, straight sheath dress that did not quite disguise the slight bulge of her pregnancy. Her warm brown eyes telegraphed sympathy, while the neat twist of her artfully streaked blond hair provided a poised, professional appearance, a welcome counterpoint to the chaotic noises coming from behind the closed door to her office.
Thankfully, the private offices of the adoption agency had escaped the deluge since the fire hadn’t gotten hot enough to set off the sprinklers in this portion of the building, which not only meant that the agency wouldn’t have to shut down operations completely but that Lori and Kelly could meet in relative comfort and privacy.
Sitting in a wing-backed chair, Lori nodded glumly. “I understand.”
“We’re still convinced that you are a wonderful mother for any child,” Kelly went on, “and we’ll back up that judgment in court. That is, if you’ve decided to fight for Lucia.”
“I don’t think I can do anything else,” Lori said softly.
“In that case…” Kelly picked up a business card from the blotter on her desk and leaned forward, pressing it into Lori’s hand. “On a strictly personal level, I heartily recommend this woman. She’s a fine attorney. Family law is her specialty, and she works on a sliding-fee scale. I think you’ll find her compassionate and knowledgeable, and I’ve told her that you might be calling.”
Lori looked down at the card and then back up at Kelly, forcing a smile. “Thank you.”
“I wish we could do more,” Kelly said, spreading her hands in a gesture of helplessness, “but we’re officially neutral in cases like this. Thankfully, they’re rare. I’m so very sorry that your situation is proving the exception.”
“I really wish I understood why,” Lori whispered.
Kelly leaned forward again and slipped an arm around Lori’s shoulders. “Just keep trusting God, and know that we’re praying for you.”
Lori nodded and slid the business card into her shoulder bag. “It’s good to know I have Christian friends to support me.”
Kelly
