Birthright

from a different angle. “My name is Dory, and I’ll be your server today. What’ll you have?”
    “I could go for one of those meatball subs, extra sauceand cheese. Bag of chips—see if they’ve got sour cream and onion.”
    “How do you eat like that and stay slim? I even look at a bag of potato chips, I gain five pounds.” Dory lowered the camera. “I hate women like you. I’m having yogurt—for a change.”
    She put the camera down to take the notebook out of her back pocket and scribble down Callie’s order.
    “You need money?”
    “No, the kitty’s still flush. Speaking of which, we’re trying to get a poker game together for tonight. Interested?”
    “Yeah, but I’ve got to work.”
    “Everybody needs some downtime. You haven’t taken a night off since I started on the dig. And when you’re not on-site, you’re traveling. In and out of Atlanta yesterday, a day in the lab last week—”
    “How’d you know I went to Atlanta?”
    Dory flinched at the snap in Callie’s voice. “Rosie mentioned it. She said you and Jake had to fly to Atlanta on business. Sorry. I didn’t mean to step in anything.”
    “You didn’t step in anything. Look, I’ll ante up if I get the chance, but I’ve got some legwork on an alternate project that’s taking time.”
    “Sure. We can always come up with an extra chair.” Dory got to her feet, brushed off her knees, then nodded toward the skull. “I bet he didn’t have many meatball subs for lunch.”
    “Not likely.”
    “Something to be said for progress,” Dory said, then walked to her car.
    Callie waited until she was gone, then boosted out of the hole. She gestured to Rosie, wandered over to the cooler.
    “What’s up?” Rosie asked her.
    “Did you mention to anyone that I was in Atlanta yesterday?”
    Rosie pulled a jug of Gatorade with her name on it out of the cooler. “Probably.” She took a long drink. “Yeah, your not-so-secret admirer was pretty bummed when youweren’t here. I told him you had some business south and would be back in a day or two. I might’ve told someone else. Was it a secret mission or something?”
    “No.” She rolled her shoulder. “Just jumpy, I guess.” She frowned over to where Bill worked. “Has he asked you anything else about me?”
    “Yeah, he asks. What you like to do in your free time. If you’ve got a boyfriend.”
    “A boyfriend? Give me a break.”
    “He shoots sulky and territorial glares at Jake when he’s absolutely sure Jake’s not looking. And gooey ones at you.”
    “He’s twelve.”
    “Twenty-four and counting. Come on, Callie.” Rosie gave her a friendly elbow in the ribs. “It’s sweet. Be nice to him.”
    “I’m nice to him.”
    But it made her think about perceptions, about team dynamics and gossip. So she decided to go after the next pieces of her puzzle without Jake.
    L orna Blakely had steel-gray hair, wore bifocals and housed four cats. She kept the screen door locked and peered suspiciously through it while the cats complained and circled around her.
    “I don’t know any Dunbrooks.”
    “No, ma’am. You don’t know me.” The Hagerstown neighborhood seemed quiet, settled and peaceful. Callie wondered why the woman would be so paranoid and why she’d believe a locked screen would stop anyone from breaking in. “I’d like to speak with you about one of your husband’s patients. Suzanne Cullen.”
    “My husband’s dead.”
    “Yes, ma’am. He was Suzanne Cullen’s doctor. He delivered both her babies. Do you remember her?”
    “Of course I remember her. I’m not senile. She lives down the south of the county and got famous for her baking. She was a nice young woman, had pretty babies. One got kidnapped. Terrible thing.”
    “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I’d like to talk to you about.”
    “You the police? That must’ve been thirty years ago. Talked to the police back then.”
    “No, I’m not the police.” How much, Callie wondered, could she trust her instincts, her judgment? They both told her that this tiny, suspicious woman with her bevy of cats wasn’t the type to black-market the babies her husband had spent his life bringing into the world. “Mrs. Blakely, I’m the baby who was kidnapped. I’m Suzanne Cullen’s daughter.”
    “Why the devil didn’t you say so in the first place?” Lorna flipped off the lock, pushed open the screen. “How’s your mama? Didn’t hear they’d found you. Don’t listen to the news much. Haven’t