Chapter 85
EIGHTY-FIVE
New Beginnings
With both Cord and Derrick at Midnight Ridge, Ellie drove to the adoption agency Mabel had directed her to, which was nearer Atlanta.
Like many of the older houses in small towns, this area had been rezoned commercial and it was now a business.
Although this house didn’t look as if it had been renovated or was welcoming.
It needed paint and trim work repaired. She didn’t see a sign out front either.
Odd.
Maybe the agency worked by word of mouth and through private attorneys, keeping a low profile.
Ellie climbed out, noting the fence in front had a hole in it and the fallen leaves were piled inches deep as if no one maintained the property.
The stormy sky painted the rotting wood a sinister shade of gray, and the wind hurled dry leaves onto the porch.
Several torn tree limbs were scattered across the yard, some on the roof as well.
She walked closer to the porch, then spotted a wooden sign lying in the weeds. The etching was faded but it did say New Beginnings.
So she had the right place.
The house looked less than inviting for a couple or individual applying for adoption, but perhaps the practice preferred home visits instead of meeting at the office.
Most social workers who worked with DFCS and adoption facilities were required to conduct home interviews and inspections, and the families endured a rigorous process, both with applications, interviews, parenting classes and referrals.
Even afterward for a period of time, the adopted parent or parents underwent follow-up home visits and counseling to assist in the transition for both the child and adopted parent.
Ellie grimaced. All expectant parents should be required to undergo similar requirements and parental training. Then perhaps children wouldn’t wind up abandoned, neglected, abused or part of the system.
The stairs creaked as she climbed the small porch and knocked on the door. Glancing through the window, she didn’t see lights or signs anywhere. Instead, the interior was pitched in darkness.
Suspicions raised the hairs on the nape of her neck, and she twisted the old brass doorknob and pushed the door open. Cold, stale air rushed out, mingling with the freezing temperature of the gusty winds outside.
She placed her hand around her weapon, prepared to draw in case someone lay in wait.
Opening the door wider, she quickly surmised the room was empty. The wood floors were scarred, the air smelled musty and the room felt like an icebox, indicating a lack of heat.
At first sight, the building appeared abandoned.
She pulled her flashlight and strode through the rooms, each one as empty and neglected as the other.
Other than the faded sign in the weeds, there was no indication a business had ever operated here, much less recently.
She checked the address on the sticky note Mabel had given her. She had the correct address.
Her pulse hammered as she realized this place might have never been an adoption agency.
Had Mabel known? Had she been aware the agency had given a false address or that it might be a front for a child abduction/adoption ring?