a match.”
“That’s perfect.” I exhale, turn, and rake my hands through my hair. “But what if this baby doesn’t have a digital footprint?”
He rubs his head. “Hopefully he’s in the system. If we can somehow get him rescanned, all his information should be there. We need to get Jackson’s footprints too, so we can have the comparison done immediately.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I slap a hand to my chest. “Thank God.”
“That still doesn’t mean much though,” he explains gently. “It just proves this child is not yours. It doesn’t lead us to Jackson. But it could lead us to this kid’s parents at least.”
“Right.” I squeeze my hands together. “So what now?”
“We’ll visit the park first thing in the morning, talk to moms. I’ll see if one of the neighboring businesses has any surveillance footage. And we need to talk to your friends—friends who know Jackson.” He pauses. “You went to your friend Crystal’s right after you hit your head, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hold Jackson?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t. Crystal helped me with my face. He stayed in his stroller.”
“No one picked him up.”
“No.”
“I hate to say this, but because you’re visually impaired, it’s going to make protocol more challenging.” He hesitates. “Not impossible, but it’s critical that someone can confidently confirm that this child isn’t Jackson. That’s step one.”
I nod. “Of course.” Inside, I panic. None of my friends, except for Jess, have held Jackson in the last few weeks. At this age, babies change on an almost daily basis.
“I’ll need a list of your contacts.”
“Sure.” I ask Siri to open VoiceOver and bring up contacts. “It’s all yours.” I swallow. “What should I do?”
“Let me do my job. Without a missing child report, proper police procedure, or the footprint, we’re going to have to approach this a bit off the books.”
“Okay.” I hate feeling like a victim. I want to ask him to knock on every door, to be as riled up about all of this as I am, but without any evidence, all I have to rely on is protocol. I don’t dare ask him if he believes me. While I know he’s giving me the benefit of the doubt, I don’t think I could handle anything other than yes.
“I’m just going to do a little digging. Why don’t you go upstairs and take a cold shower?”
“I don’t want to take a shower.”
“It will clear your head, shock your system. Go. I’ll let you know if the baby wakes up.”
I stare stubbornly in his direction, suddenly taken back eleven years. What else am I going to do? Pace the kitchen until he’s done? “Fine.”
“It’s going to be okay, Bec. I promise.”
I shrug off his words, walk upstairs to the bedroom, and click the door shut. I crank the water to cold and do as I’m told. I undress and enter the icy spray. Instead of standing under a hot shower and crying, I gasp for breath and think of nothing else but staying put. After a full minute, my skin adjusts and I focus on breathing in and out.
I stay until I can’t take the cold, then quickly dry off, redress, and wrap my hair in a towel. Jake is in the kitchen. He pours another cup of coffee.
“Better?” he asks.
No. “Did you find what you need?”
“Kind of.” He swallows. “I hope you don’t mind, but I logged onto your computer and saw the open browser.” He drums his fingers on the table. “What’s all this stuff about the changeling?” His tone is light, but concern smarts underneath.
I shrug. “I went to Google ‘baby swaps’ and that came up.” I keep my voice steady, my eyes as focused as possible. “I just wanted to see what it was about.”
He doesn’t respond and I wonder if I should keep explaining. I wish I could see his face to tell what he’s thinking. I unravel the towel from my damp hair and busy my hands with soaking up the excess moisture.
“Do you have any enemies? Anyone in Chris’s life who wants to get back at him?”
I bristle at his question. Chris didn’t have enemies. And I don’t, as far as I know. I shake my head. “Everyone loved Chris.”
He hesitates. “No past lovers or affairs that you’re aware of?”
I almost laugh. The idea of Chris cheating seems as ludicrous as this alleged baby swap. “Chris would never cheat.” I know my words must sound cheap, but I’m certain. Yes, Jake has seen it all—humans doing unspeakable acts,