Rock-a-Bye Bones (3 page)

“That's right.” Tinkie followed my lead perfectly. “If a child develops an attachment disorder it can ruin her life. Sociopaths and psychopaths start with attachment disorders. This baby needs love, security, the chance to bond.”

“And you and Sarah Booth can give her that?” Coleman sounded more than a little skeptical.

I looked at Tinkie and the way she held the baby cuddled to her chest. She'd always wanted a child. Fate had decreed she would never have one. “Tinkie and Oscar would be the best home,” I said. “She'll have everything a baby needs to thrive. And it's just until we find the mother.”

“What if the mother doesn't want her?” Coleman asked, and deep in his blue eyes I saw real concern. “What if she dumped the kid and took off? Or what if she wants the baby back but has issues of her own? Tinkie, you know you'll have to give her up. I don't think this is a smart move.”

Tinkie inhaled slowly. “I know it's emotionally dangerous, but I promise you, Coleman, I won't fight the natural mother. That wouldn't be right. I just want to give the little girl a good start.”

The debate halted as Doc Sawyer, a “retired” general practitioner who still ran the emergency room at the county hospital, entered the kitchen.

“Well, well,” he said, eyeing the baby and all of us standing around the kitchen. “Looks like the stork came by and left a bundle of joy. Where's the mother? Why am I here?”

“Long story,” I said, “Tinkie will fill you in.”

As Doc picked up the baby, I followed Coleman to the front door.

“I don't like this. There are a million ways this could go south and Tinkie is already too attached.” He opened his forensic kit to begin working the blood at the front door. “If this turns bad, Tinkie is going to be hurt.”

He spoke with wisdom, but there were also dangers to the child. “The mother can't be far away. The baby hasn't even been properly cleaned. And you know as well as I do that once that baby is in the system, it could be devastating to her.”

“I don't disagree. Child services does the best job they can, but they have no budget and they have more cases than they can work.”

“This fostering is temporary. I promise. Just for a day or two?”

He nodded. “You've got forty-eight hours. After that, I'll have to follow the law.”

“Thanks, Coleman. Now let me throw on some boots and a jacket. Dawn will be here soon and I need to get to work on finding the woman who had that baby.”

“There's a lot of blood here, Sarah Booth. I'm no expert on childbirth, but this doesn't look right to me, even if she delivered on your front porch.”

He was right about that.

“That baby could have frozen to death out here. How'd you know to look out the door at three in the morning?” Coleman took blood samples and photographs as he talked.

“The person who left her rang the doorbell. Repeatedly. She waited in the driveway until I went out on the porch and picked the baby up. She made sure the infant was safe before she left.” And she had been bleeding heavily. It tore at my heart. “I think whoever left the baby was trying hard to make sure she was taken care of.”

Coleman pushed his hat back on his head as he stood up. “The more I hear, the less I like it. It sounds like the person was desperate.”

“And the question to ask is why? Why didn't they just wait for me to help them once I'd taken the baby inside?”

“Because they have something to hide.” Coleman's frown said a lot. If it was the mother who'd left the baby and who was bleeding so profusely, she was in serious trouble. A woman who abandoned her child—but made sure it was safe and then ran away—had to be in a world of hurt.

“You think she's a criminal?” I somehow couldn't put the mother of that beautiful child in the category of felon.

“I don't know, but she's running from something or someone. The bigger question is why you, Sarah Booth? Why Dahlia House? You weren't picked at random. The baby was brought here, specifically, to you.”

“Because the mother wants someone to find her. That's what I do. I find people and things.”

“And you're damn good at it.” He gathered his evidence and came to stand only inches from me. “I'll let you know what I find out.”

“Thanks, Coleman.” He'd helped me more than he knew. I hurried back inside before my feet froze to the porch.

 

3

“She's one hundred percent healthy, with one tiny glitch,” Doc said after he'd examined the infant. “Born maybe three hours ago. Someone cut the umbilical cord and clamped it off. I've cleaned her up, but she needs some warm clothes.”

“Shopping!” Tinkie almost squealed with pleasure. “I can't wait. They have the most adorable, girlie dresses at that boutique on the corner. There is this pale pink and green frock that reminds me of sweet peas. Remember those vines that grew behind the football stadium, Sarah Booth? In the spring they smelled like heaven. Well, the dress has a pattern almost like those sweet peas, and—”

“Hold on there, Betty Halbreich,” Doc said.

“Betty who?” Tinkie and I asked in unison. We did that sometimes when we were channeling each other's thoughts.

“The world's most famous personal shopper,” Doc said, proud that he'd gotten one over on Tinkie. “You're the fashion queen of Zinnia and you don't know Betty Halbreich?” He pretended dismay. “She's dressed everyone from Lauren Bacall to Jackie Kennedy.”

“How do you know this?” Tinkie's eyes narrowed.

“I was at the dentist office yesterday and had a long wait. I read a lot of magazines.”

“Whew!” I dramatically wiped my brow. “I thought you'd gone rogue fashionista on us, Doc.”

“Well, before y'all rush off to turn this darling infant into a prop for your clothes fetish, let's talk some basic nutrition.”

I felt the blood flush my neck and cheeks. I hadn't even thought of food. I wondered if the baby had even had a chance to nurse. “I'll go to the store. What should I buy?”

“Too bad the whole business of wet nursing is gone,” Doc said. “Nothing like a mother's milk to build a healthy immune system and give a child a jump-start.”

“Don't look at me,” I mumbled. “Just give me a list.”

“We'll start with this formula and see how she takes to it,” Doc said, writing down a mile-long list of things to get. “And when she's settled and strong, we'll talk about vaccinations.”

“Hopefully, we'll find her mother,” I said, aware that Tinkie was unnaturally quiet. She was kissing the baby's fingers.

“There is one more thing. She'll need some surgery.”

“What?” My heart thudded into my stomach. “Is she sick? She looks fine to me. She's maybe a little hungry, but—”

“As I was trying to tell you, the little girl is polydactyl.”

“But you said she was one hundred percent healthy.” Tinkie's face had gone ashen.

“And she is.” Doc picked up her right foot. “See that extra toe? It isn't anything but a vestigial digit. Best to have it removed when she's a little older, but nothing to worry about right now. I believe the best clinic for this is in Massachusetts. Boston Children's Hospital. This kind of surgery is a specialty of theirs.”

“She'll have to have surgery?” Tinkie was appalled. “She's just a tiny baby. That's too much!”

“Hold on, Tinkie. It isn't brain surgery. And, Sarah Booth, a lot of people might have overlooked it. But the good news is that it may help you find the mother. This is an inherited trait. Doesn't mean the mother would have to be polydactyl, but she might be.”

“What are the odds?” I asked.

“I'll have to conduct a bit of research. I don't recall seeing another case of this in Sunflower County, but there are plenty of children I never see these days. Some go to Memphis or Jackson and some never see a doctor. Or her family might not be from around here at all.”

“Is there an obstetrics clinic or facility near?” I asked.

“This baby was born without benefit of a hospital,” Doc said. “But if the mother was bleeding as severely as was indicated, she'd have to get medical attention. I'll call the local hospital. You might ask DeWayne to call the Memphis and Jackson hospitals. They won't give any information to you because of privacy laws. They'll be a lot more inclined to talk to Coleman or Deputy DeWayne.”

“What about a midwife?” I asked. Doc knew a couple of old granny midwives and often worked with them to be sure of a healthy baby and mother.

“I'll make some calls, but I can tell you none of the midwives I work with would have let a new mother leave the premises bleeding that way.”

“Anything could have happened,” Tinkie said. The baby was snuggled against Tinkie's chest, dainty fists clutching empty air.

“She needs food,” I said. I recognized those fist gestures. Puppies and kittens did the same to bring the milk down.

“I'll be at the hospital,” Doc said.

“I'll make a run to the Pig.” I grabbed my coat and purse and a pair of boots from the mudroom and headed out with Doc. I wanted a word in private.

He'd parked behind my mother's old roadster, which I now drove. “Watch over Tinkie. She's tough as nails, but this is her Achilles' heel,” he said.

“I know. But maybe if she and Oscar keep the infant for a little while, it will soften Oscar to the idea of adopting. Tinkie wants a child. I think Oscar does, too, but he has some kind of issue with adopting.”

“It isn't that.” Doc patted his wild white hair that reminded me of Albert Einstein. I couldn't remember him with dark hair, though I'd known him all my life. “Oscar has his reasons. That's all I can say. If Tinkie gets too engrossed in that baby, it could be calamitous. When she learned she couldn't have children, she came very close to a breakdown.”

I didn't know the details of Tinkie's past. She'd told me a few things—very private things. I knew she'd suffered, but I wasn't aware of the true emotional toll. “Should I keep the baby? I let her do it because I was trying to help.”

“You can't take the baby back now, Sarah Booth. We have to let this play out. Just keep telling her that the mother will return and the baby will have to go home.”

“Will do.” I put on a smile though my gut was writhing with anxiety. In trying to do a good deed, I may have put my partner on the line for emotional pain.

Doc patted my shoulder. “Maybe this will work out as you anticipated. Oscar and Tinkie could give a child a wonderful, loving home. Maybe Oscar will reconsider once he's exposed to the infant. Your intentions were noble, Sarah Booth.”

“Road to hell and all of that,” I said.

“Well, you'll have plenty of company along the road, including me.”

I blew him a kiss and watched as he drove away from Dahlia House. What would Sunflower County ever do if Doc really retired? What would I do?

I pushed that thought away and jumped in the car. I had a hungry baby to care for. We'd need diapers and everything else on the long list Doc had written.

*   *   *

While Tinkie prepared the formula for the baby, I searched the attic for the nursing rocker. It had been used for generations of Delaneys. Once I found the antique chair, I took it to the private detective offices. Tinkie could feed the infant
and
work. Multitasking might mitigate the bonding. “You can see how the other half lives, working moms and all.”

Tinkie was a natural. She had a dishcloth on her shoulder and the baby sucking a bottle in her arms as she settled into the chair and slowly tipped to and fro.

“You look like you know what you're doing.” I was shocked. Tinkie was no sloucher in the child-care department. The baby had also been diapered.

“I'm not a total nitwit. I've fed and clothed infants before.”

“When?” I realized that in my thirty-four years it was possible I'd never cared for an infant longer than two or three minutes.

“Sarah Booth, a bunch of the girls we went to college with were married and pregnant before we graduated. Baby showers, parties, lunches. Most of those children are in grammar school, if not high school.”

I tried to wipe the blank look from my face, but I was too late.

“You've
never
taken care of a baby?” she asked.

I could only pray Jitty wasn't listening in on this conversation. I'd never hear the end of it. “Maybe I just don't remember.”

“The feel of a child in your arms is something you'd never forget.”

I'd held the infant, and my life wasn't significantly changed. Sure, she was adorable, and she had tugged at my heart because she was so alone, with her mother missing. But that was where my thoughts went. To the missing mother. “I'm sure I'll get a taste of caring for the baby once the newness wears off for you.”

“Keep it up with the old-time colloquialisms—you're sounding more and more like your Aunt Loulane, who
died a spinster
.”

“Below the belt, Tinkie. She gave up a potential husband to take care of me.”

She laughed, and I was reminded of silvery chimes. She had the purest, lightest laughter when she was truly happy. Holding and feeding that infant had put her in hog heaven, to yet again quote an Aunt Loulane turn of phrase.

“Taking care of you was more important than any man,” Tinkie said. She pierced me with her serious, blue gaze.

“You know the baby is going home to her mother. You can't fall in love with her, Tinkie. It will break your heart.”

“Oh, posh, Sarah Booth. I'll have her for two days at the most. We both know if her mother isn't found by then, Coleman will have to put her into the system. Sure, I'll be attached, but it isn't like I've taken her to raise. She has a mother. I know that.”