The Christmas Hope(14)

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll bring you back.” I opened the back door and set her on the passenger side of the car. She looked so small as I secured the seat belt around her. I thanked the officers, told them I’d be in touch, and drove her to the Delphys’ home.

I woke up the next morning and opened the door to let Girl out. I looked through my notes and called the number for Tracy’s mother. It was out of service. I tried the number for her father and it rang several times before he answered. He had been notified of Tracy’s death by someone in the police department but because he had been in bed with vasculitis for several months he would be unable to travel for the funeral. I asked if he’d ever seen his granddaughter, Emily, and he said after she was born he had, but then he lost touch. I got a current phone number for Tracy’s mother and hung up. I dialed the number before I let the sadness of the situation sink in. Tracy’s mother had also been notified of Tracy’s death and was packing her bag for the funeral. I told her how sorry I was. “I have to take off work,” she said, out of breath from running to the phone. “They don’t like it when people take off work at the last minute.” I was stunned. She hadn’t mentioned Tracy or Emily.

“Emily is in a foster home,” I said.

“They could fire me for this,” she said. “I hope they don’t but they could.”

“Would you like to see Emily?” I asked.

She sighed into the phone. I could envision her throwing her arms in the air. “If there’s time. There may not be any time. I’ve got to drive in and drive out. That’s all the time they’re going to give me off work.”

“Do you know Emily’s father?” I asked.

“If I knew who he was he wouldn’t be walking around today getting other girls pregnant.”

That’s as close to a conversation about Tracy or Emily that we were going to have. I called Tracy’s brother but he was single and worked the midnight shift at a warehouse. He was kind but made it clear that he was in no position to care for a child. I hung up the phone and doodled on the papers in front of me. This was the part of the job that I hated: discovering that family members can’t or don’t want to care for the children who are supposed to be close to them. It seemed the only person who cared for Emily or Tracy was Greta Larson. I called information for her number. An older man answered the phone. It was obvious he was hard of hearing and by the third time of asking for Greta I was losing my patience. He finally handed the phone to Greta.

“Thank you so much for calling,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ve been so worried and none of the neighbors knew what happened to her.”

I assured her that Emily was with a loving family.

“Do you know anything about her mother’s family?” I asked.

“Tracy’s mom and dad are divorced,” she said. “Her dad is sick and her mother is strange. I know she talked with her brother quite a bit, especially during the first year after Emily was born, but I never saw him. He lives a couple hours from here.”

“Do you know anything about Emily’s dad?”

“To be honest, I don’t think Tracy knew anything about him. They were teenagers. He probably went off to college, got a job, got married, and has kids of his own now. Nobody knows. And I’m sure he doesn’t care. Tracy didn’t list his name on Emily’s birth certificate. I don’t know why. Seems the least he could have done was pay child support, and the state would have made sure he did, too. But I guess Tracy thought that was a battle she didn’t want to fight for the rest of her life. Poor thing.”

Her voice trailed off and I could hear her clear her throat.

“She was too young to be raising a child. She never could make ends meet but she was a good soul and that little girl of hers is a sweet child.” She was quiet. Greta was the closest thing to a mother Tracy had had for several years.

“Did you watch Emily at all last night?” I asked.

“No, it was our anniversary. Something in me told me that Tracy wouldn’t be able to find anyone to sit with Emily but she kept telling me she could. I never should have left.”

“So you don’t think anybody was with her last night?”

“No, and I can’t imagine how afraid that sweet little baby was when the police knocked on her door.”

There was no point in asking Greta again about who else could have been with Emily because she didn’t know. But the thought nagged me: who was holding Emily’s hand? What if it had been someone from the neighborhood who knew Tracy wasn’t home? What if someone had questionable motives for being alone in a house with a child? I pushed the thought out of my mind. I promised to stay in touch with Greta and hung up the phone.