Seven #3
“Is this all of the records?” he asked, quickly scanning them. They appeared to be labor and delivery records from the day Nina was born.
“That’s correct.” Mary sank into the chair behind the desk. “Anna Lange was only here one time and that was to deliver a baby.”
“Thank you.” He handed the paperwork to Nina as they turned away. Nina was already reading through the information as they took the elevator up to the main lobby.
“There’s an address listed here,” she said after a moment. “125 Bluebird Court.”
“We’ll check that out next.” He held the door open for her. “Unless you want to keep looking at the high school yearbooks.”
“Let’s go past the address first.” Nina’s green eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Soon I’ll see the place where my mother lived. We’re getting close, Jackson.”
“We are.” He wanted to share her enthusiasm, but the memory of the black truck opening fire upon them haunted him. He felt certain the bad guys had already acquired a new ride and were out there searching for them.
Creed eyed them curiously when they returned. “I’m surprised you got what you needed on a Saturday.”
“Jackson layered on the charm,” Nina said with a grin.
“Whatever works.” Jackson gestured to the paperwork. “We’re heading to a home address listed on the records. It’s 125 Bluebird Court.”
“Hmm. I wonder if that’s part of the Bluebird Estates Trailer Park we passed on the way in.” Creed put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
A trailer home made sense. Nina continued reading through her mother’s medical record as they drove. Soon Creed slowed and turned onto Bluebird Avenue. This was clearly the main thoroughfare; several other streets with various bird names branched off this one.
Some of the trailer homes weren’t too bad. Others looked as if they might collapse to rubble in the next thunderstorm. Bluebird Court was a road that headed to the left toward the back of the park. The house number of 125 was assigned to a dingy yellow single-wide trailer home.
Creed stopped. For a long moment nobody spoke. Then Nina pushed out of the car and walked up to the front door.
With a sigh, Jackson quickly followed. He highly doubted the current occupant knew Anna, but understood Nina had to ask.
A grizzled, elderly man cracked the door at her knock. “Don’t want anything,” he croaked, then closed the door again.
“I’m not selling anything,” Nina said loudly. “Did you know Anna Lange? She lived here twenty-eight years ago.”
There was no response. If the old man knew Anna, he wasn’t talking.
Nina turned and walked over to the next trailer home. A harried young mother with a baby on her hip answered. When Nina asked about Anna, the woman shook her head and closed the door without saying a word.
Jackson’s heart ached for Nina as she went from one trailer to the next, determined to find someone who might know her mother.
On the last trailer on the court, an elderly woman answered the door.
At the look of shock on her face, Jackson realized the woman had recognized Nina as Anna’s daughter.
Based on the photograph Nina had taken from her uncle’s crime scene, they looked a lot alike.
“Are you Rose?” she asked.
“I—don’t know,” Nina stammered. “Did you know my mother? Anna Lange?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Yes. Anna and her mother lived in that trailer over there.” She gestured to the one where the crabby old man lived. “I can’t believe it. The last time I saw you, you were a newborn baby. Your mother named you Rose.”
“You were friends with my mother, then?” Nina asked. “Do you know anything about my father?”
The woman’s expression softened. “I can’t say we were friends.
More like acquaintances. I knew Anna’s mother, Ruth.
She died of cancer about six months before you were born.
Anna left a few days after she had you.” She frowned.
“She never talked about your father. And I never saw her again after that.”
Jackson had stayed back, letting Nina handle the initial conversation, but now he spoke up. “Were you aware that Anna Lange was murdered?”
“Murdered!” The woman gasped. “No! When? Recently? Is that why you’re here asking questions?”
“My mother died a long time ago,” Nina said quickly. “She didn’t have any ID on her. They flashed her face on the news. You never saw it?”
The older woman shook her head. “I don’t watch the news. Too depressing.”
“Can you help me identify any of my mother’s friends? Maybe a boyfriend?”
“Sorry, dear, but I never noticed any of Anna’s friends.” The woman eyed her critically. “But you look just like your mother, God rest her soul.”
“Thanks for your help.” Nina lightly clasped the older woman’s hand before turning to leave. Jackson gave her a nod of appreciation and followed.
They’d learned Anna’s mother’s name was Ruth and that she’d died of cancer before Nina was born. And that Anna had named her baby Rose. They had one piece of the puzzle, but they still didn’t know why Anna had taken her child from this trailer park in Temple to Dallas.
Or who had brutally murdered her twenty-eight years ago.