Chapter 32

Bellingham, Washington

Saturday, March 7, 2020

I staggered out of the bedroom on Saturday morning, let Sarah out, and then went to the kitchen to start the coffee. When

I found a note from Kyle next to the coffee machine, it was all I could do to keep from grinding my teeth in annoyance.

Out for a driving lesson with Hank. We’re going to grab breakfast somewhere along the way. See you later.

My head filled with visions of his burning up the clutch on Hank’s very expensive automotive antique. I couldn’t help but

wonder how much fixing that would cost since I was reasonably sure I’d be the one footing the bill, and I wasn’t thrilled

at the prospect. The call that came in from Todd Hatcher a while later did nothing to improve my frame of mind.

“How are things?” he asked when I answered.

“Fine,” I responded. It was one of Mel’s raised eyebrow “fines,” which means the exact opposite, but Todd didn’t pick up on

that.

“Well,” he continued, “I’m still searching for any online sign of Lindsey Baylor between that initial arrest at age eighteen

and her emergence as Caroline Richards late last year, but I’m coming up empty. No employment records. No tax filings. Her

profile is still listed as available on several dating sites, but those didn’t start until after her new ID came online. During

all the intervening years, however, there were no postings of her on any social media. I’ve also been unable to locate any

further interactions with law enforcement.”

“Is it possible she left the country for that amount of time?” I asked.

“She couldn’t have done so legally,” Todd replied. “She doesn’t have a passport. It’s as though she vanished into thin air.”

Scenarios where someone goes into hiding and emerges seven years later with a brand-new identity often suggest participation

in some kind of illegal financial activity, most especially tax evasion. What exactly had Caroline been dodging?

“What the hell was she doing all that time?” I asked aloud.

“Beats me,” Todd replied, “but if it was against the law, she was smart enough not to get caught. I was concerned and wanted

you to be aware of that.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Appreciate it.”

As I hung up, it occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one who needed to be brought up to speed on the existence of that seven-year black hole in Caroline Richards’s history. My concern was that she might well be surviving as some kind of serial scammer, and if poor besotted Jeremy was one of her victims, what were the chances she’d do the same thing to her newly found auntie during their reunion in Portland? Not ready to tackle the issue with Jeremy, I tried contacting Marisa Young, but my call went straight to voicemail. I ended up leaving a bland message.

“It’s me, checking in to see how things are going.”

That was enough to let her know that more than two hundred fifty miles away, someone in Bellingham was watching and waiting

to see how today’s meeting would turn out.

As for Jeremy? Kyle had told me early on that it was likely his dad had reeled Caroline in by convincing her that he was in

far better financial shape than he really was. So what happens when scammer number one discovers he or she is being scammed

by scammer number two? Probably not a good outcome for either one of them. With that in mind, I decided to put the call to

Jeremy on hold indefinitely in hopes that somehow Marisa would be able to suss out some information about Caroline’s missing

years.

Meanwhile, without my noticing, Mel had emerged from the bedroom. I had no idea she was there until she pressed the button,

and the coffee machine ground into action.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Once she joined me in the living room, I gave her a brief overview. She listened thoughtfully. When I finished, she took a

sip of her coffee and asked, “How much time passed between the first appearance of Caroline’s new identity and her hooking

up with Jeremy?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “It seems to have happened pretty quickly, a couple of months or so. Why?”

“If you’re right about her being a scammer, she’s most likely pulling the oldest trick in the book.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Getting one man to take responsibility for another man’s child.”

Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am!

“Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” I demanded.

Mel favored me with a wry grin. “Maybe because you’re a man?” she suggested. “Most guys fall for that trick hook, line, and

sinker, especially ones like Jeremey who are under the mistaken impression that they’re God’s gift to women.”

“But what should I do about it?” I asked.

“For right now, leave well enough alone,” Mel advised. “If you try going into it now, it’ll only make things worse. Once the

baby arrives, there’ll be plenty of time to suggest Jeremy might want to consider doing a paternity test. At that point, he’ll

have to live with the results one way or the other.”

I thought about that for a moment before I spoke again. “Thanks,” I said at last.

“Thanks for what?” Mel wanted to know.

“For keeping me from stepping in it any worse than I already have.”