Page 113 of Guarding Grace

I took in a relieved breath that this wasn’t a marital issue.

“I got a surprise result,” she continued. “A family member had also used the service, and requested to be notified if any family matches were found.” She tapped the folder I held.

I opened the folder. It contained a contact request from a male, thirty-eight years old with a family match to a sample number. “Who is this?”

Carol swallowed hard. “I don’t know. The company wants my approval before they will release information to either of us.”

I took her hand in both of mine. I didn’t know the structure of the extended family, but something about this was obviously difficult for her. “How can I help?”

“I’ve read of scams where people steal DNA—like off straws from strangers—and then submit them to these services, claiming to be a long-lost family member.”

I hadn’t read that, but it certainly sounded like a possibility. “Is this what you’re afraid of?”

She took in a long breath. “There is another possibility. I had a sister, Wilma. She was wild.”

Neither Lucas nor any of his brothers had ever mentioned having an Aunt Wilma.

“Our father was a pastor, strict as could be, and he threw Wilma out of the house very young. She moved away, and we were never in touch after that. Father said she went to prison, and I was to never ask about her again. I was an only child, as far as he was concerned. She was dead to us. She never existed. I’m ashamed to admit I never mentioned her to Henry or any of my children.”

I waited for her to go on as she tried to put the words together.

“It’s possible that I do have a relative out there, who I never met or even knew about. I’d like you to look into this person and figure out if this is one of those scams, or if he’s possibly a nephew of mine. And if he is, what does he want from me, from us? Is he even the kind of person we want to know?”

I squeezed her hand.

“Can you do this for me? Please?”

“I think it would be better if you asked Lucas.” Getting invited to dinner was one thing, but I wasn’t a blood relative.

She shook her head rapidly. “No. If this is person is really related, then I’ll get Lucas involved. I’ll have to admit to Henry that I’ve lied to him all these years. It will be hard, but I’ll do it for the sake of the family, for the sake of this nephew. But…” She hesitated. “If he isn’t real, if this is one of those scams, I don’t want Henry, Lucas, any of the children to know. Can you understand that?”

“Of course.” She was scared. This was how a simple lie told once could live on to haunt a person for years. “If that’s the case, I’ll keep your secret.”

We said our goodbyes, and I left with the two folders of paperwork.

Grace

I was rummagingthrough my purse in search of Tylenol when Peyton walked into my office. She closed the door with a wicked grin on her face. “I know why you look like crap this morning—no sleep.”

I’d sworn to myself that I wouldn’t bring my personal drama into the office. “I drank more than I should have last night.”

She ignored my comment. “Tell me it’s because he’s a tyrant in bed, too, isn’t he? Banging your brains out all night long?”

I wish I’d spent last night that way.“I wouldn’t know. For your information, I didn’t sleep with him last night.” Not in the way that she meant. “I look like shit because I feel like shit, because I have a shitty hangover from drinking way, way too much shitty wine last night.” That was absolutely true.

“And?” she prompted.

“And that’s it.”

She stood there, arms crossed.

“Don’t you have work to do?” I asked.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Perhaps we should talk about Zane?”

She huffed and left, closing the door behind her.