CHAPTER 3

Adopted.Stolen . Those words kept repeating themselves in my head over and over again. I suddenly felt the need to throw up. Stacie and I were not married but we were in a relationship for 6 years. She had never said anything. Did she know that she was adopted? Or stolen. Why should I take Karen’s word? She could be wrong. All the emotions of the day’s events finally took over and I suddenly felt exhausted. I looked at the clock and it was past three am. I hadn't been able to get off the couch ever since I returned. Mittens came over once in a while and purred almost as if to see if I was still breathing.

Morning arrived quickly and I was in anticipation. Karen was coming over and we had work to do. I quickly took a shower and cleaned up a bit. Tossing clothes into the washing machine. I stood and admired my work as I spotted Karen’s black car in the driveway.

“Hi..”I said as I let her in.

“You look like hell. “she responded.

I chose to ignore her and instead offered a cup of coffee to which she politely declined. We sat down and started to talk.

“I need to know more about your adoption theory", I started.

"It’s not a theory. It’s the truth. Stacie was born Jane Willow. Not even 3 days after her birth she mysteriously disappeared from her home. The police and private investigators searched for years and she was never found. She disappeared without a trace. At the time of her disappearance, a baby girl who looked very much like her just with red hair was adopted here in New York by a couple who both worked as doctors.”

I listened as she spoke. And I must admit... It all sounded like a fairytale. Karen continued speaking without catching her breath. She had now pulled out a bunch of papers from her purse and laid them on the table...

“…are you listening to me? “ she said a bit too loud.

I looked at her and nodded and then glanced at the papers on the table. C. A. A. was written on the bottom left corner of one of the pages. My heart skipped a bit as my mind recalled finding a piece of paper in my living room with the same initials.

“What is C. A. A? “I asked.

“That’s the agency that Stacie was adopted through. Why? Does it ring a bell? “

"A while ago a brown box was left at my door and inside was an article about Stacie, an envelope with her pictures and a book that had a square cut out in the middle and a key hidden in the square. The very same day I had forgotten to get something from the supermarket so I went back for it. When I returned home, someone had been here and everything was a mess. The box had been taken but I did find a piece of paper on the floor with the same initials.”

She listened attentively as I spoke without saying a word. I looked at her and weird enough, she had a line between her eyebrows as she frowned. Just like Stacie

I waved it out of my mind. I was probably seeing things. She finally spoke and said

“The C. A. A.. Carers adoption agency have been around for many years but most recently a few alarming things have been brought to light. A woman claimed that her baby was taken away from her at birth and doctors told her the baby is dead. But she swears she saw her baby with a different couple. “

“Well, babies look alike. She could be wrong. She had just lost her baby. Maybe she’s trying to see him in other babies. “ I argued.

“Mothers are seldom wrong about these things Danny. “

We sat in silence for a bit. I assumed each gathering their thoughts. I pondered on everything that has occurred recently and suddenly remembered the badge.

“The badge.” I said.. “there’s something about that badge.“

“What badge? “ she was now sitting at the edge of the couch and was looking right into my eyes. Her brown eyes now wide open.

“It’s red and black in color. And it has a symbol. Something that looked like a bottle or stick... I’m not too sure. In one of the pictures that were in the envelope... There was a man in the picture who had on a coat with the same badge on the pocket. Do you know what it means? “

“It’s the CAA” she had now started to dig through her bag and pulled out a small badge. Identical to the one Iv been seeing.

I waited for her to explain and she said the badge belongs to the CAA. They have them on their vehicles, coats, and so on. It was at that moment that I remembered the van that drove past me on my way home from the supermarket.

“I don’t understand why they were in my home. “

“They’re trying to cover their tracks, Danny. They’re scared. They probably think that you know something. “

I walked Karen out as it was getting late. Someone out there had stolen Stacie when she was born. And now they are trying to come after me. I lived with Stacie for a long time and never picked up that she was adopted. Her parents loved her like their own. She had red hair and emerald eyes just like her mother. Wow. I was starting to think that I knew absolutely nothing about Stacie. Or Jane.

I sat down and looked through the messy paperwork that Karen had left on my coffee table. There was an old article about a baby who disappeared. I’d never seen Stacie’s baby photos but even a blind man could see the striking resemblance between Stacie and this baby Jane.

I have to call Susan. She answered the phone excitedly and said she was happy that I called and took the opportunity to invite me over for dinner on Saturday. I had just hung up when a frantic knock at the door startled me. I peeped through the window and it was Karen.

I opened the door and she dashed in and locked it behind her. She was clearly shaken and scared. She had her hands rubbing the side of her arms and looked around as if she was being followed.

“Is something wrong?” I asked

“I can’t go back home. Someone was following me. I managed to lose them but when I got home, the place was a mess. My laptop is gone and I’m really scared. Can I stay here? “she asked

“No. No, you can’t stay here. There’s no space. I already live with Mittens. Don’t you have family that you can go to? “

“I do. But I can’t go to them. I might put them in danger. “

I opened my eyes wide in amazement and looked at her. So it’s okay to put me in danger, I thought. Almost as if she read my mind she said

“Well, you already know all that is going on so I figured I’d be safer here. “

I looked at her and shoved my hands in my pockets and murmured “you’re on the couch “.

I woke up the following morning feeling sluggish. It has been a crazy week and I’ve not eaten much. Karen was on the Sofa clutching a hot cup of coffee. I walked right past her and didn’t say a word.

“ Could you please come with me to my apartment. I’d like to get a few things “. I nodded and sat down in the rocking chair next to Mittens who was sunbathing by the window.

“What was she like?” she asked

“What was who like? “I said without looking at her

“Stacie. What kind of person was she? What did she like and what was her favorite food?”

I continue to pat Mittens as I pondered on her question.

“Stacie was full of life. She loved everyone regardless of their flaws. She was a hard worker and a go-getter. She always smiled. Even when she was sad. She loved asking questions. I guess that’s what led her to be a journalist. I met her in college. She was studying journalism and I was studying music. We pretty much became inseparable since then. “

I had begun to feel anger take over so I decided to stop. I looked over at Karen who sat crossed-legged on the sofa listening to me and clutching a now cold cup of coffee.

“Do you play or write music? “ she asked.

“both. I play the guitar.” I replied.

She looked at me with a hint of sadness in her eyes. She fixed her gaze on a tiny piece of dirt on the floor almost as if studying it. She was deep in thought. I couldn’t help but study her facial features. She had red lipstick again. Her black hair and brown eyes made a look like a great candidate for a vampire bride. She had pale skin too. But astonishingly beautiful.

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The drive to Karen’s apartment was long. Not because of the distance but because of the silence that filled my car. She finally broke the silence and turned on the radio. Uptown girl played and she sang at the top of her lungs. She’s a terrible singer. I listened in annoyance while contemplating turning it off. She finally pointed at a building on 5th Avenue and told me to pull over.

Karen’s apartment was well kept. There was a clear indication that a female lived here. It smelled like flowers and soap. A large beige lamp stood in one corner next to a small bookshelf. A set of couches and a brown wooden coffee table filled the living area. It wasn’t extraordinary but it was rather clean and pretty. A framed picture of a woman sat on top of the bookcase. I moved closer to study it while Karen packed a few items in a bag. Looking at the picture, I felt a pang of shock and fear take over my body. The woman in the photo probably in her late fifties was extremely beautiful. Her emerald eyes haunted me. There was something about her. I picked up the picture and stood next to the window. The woman in the picture.

She looked very familiar.

She looked just like Stacie.