the streets like that all of a sudden, it’s usually not good news. You should probably file a missing-persons report on him.”
That made me smile—the homeless guy giving the ex-cop law-enforcement advice. “Will do,” I told him. “We’re working on it.”
“Tell Naomi’s dad thanks for me,” he added, turning and heading back down toward the warmth of his nest. “See you around.”
“I will,” I said, knowing that in thanking me he already had. “Good night, then,” I told him as Lucy and I headed inside.
Upstairs, the moment we entered the unit, Lucy voted with her paws. She turned a hard right and headed straight for the guest room, making it clear where her loyalties lay. I was a bit bemused by her obvious attachment to that little blanket-wrapped creature lying asleep in a crib. Alan Dale, on the other hand, was perched in the window seat, cup of coffee in hand, staring out at Puget Sound, where a couple of ferries were passing each other in the night.
“Well?” he asked.
“Naomi agreed to sign.”
“She did? Oh, my God!” he exclaimed. “I can barely believe it. How did you do that? What did she say?”
“That she knows she can’t take proper care of Athena and she thinks you and your mother-in-law can. That’s what she had in mind when she left Athena at the hospital—that you and/or her grandmother would take Athena back home to Texas. She had no idea that the state would get involved and throw a wrench in the works.”
“When do we sign?” Alan asked.
“Whenever you can arrange it,” I told him. “but as soon as possible. Naomi is staying at the Pike Street Mission at the moment. Reverend Seymour, the woman who runs the shelter said we can call her to set up a time.”
Before the words were out of my mouth, Alan was reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Andrea Hutchins,” he explained, “She’s Athena’s social worker, and she told me to call her anytime, day or night. Nine o’clock’s not too late to call, do you think?”
“Not on a Friday,” I told him.
“Andrea,” he said a moment later. “It’s Alan Dale. I’ve got good news—great news, actually. I’m sitting here with J. P. Beaumont, my detective. He found Naomi, and she’s willing to sign. I’m putting you on speaker so he can hear what you’re saying. Naomi is staying at a homeless shelter located somewhere here in Seattle. We can meet with her there to get the paperwork signed, but we need to set up a time.”
“That is good news,” Andrea agreed. “Good work, Mr. Beaumont, glad to meet you.”
“Me, too,” I told her.
“Here’s the thing,” Andrea continued. “In my experience the longer we wait around after someone makes this kind of decision, the more likely they are to change their minds and back out. I know it’s the weekend, but is there any way we could do this tomorrow?”
“I can see,” I said. “What time would be good for you?”
“Eleven, maybe?”
I hauled out my phone, found the number Rachel had called me on earlier, and dialed that.
“Alan Dale is on another line with Athena’s social worker just now, and she’s wondering if we could stop by tomorrow morning about eleven to sign that paperwork.”
“I’m not at the shelter right now,” Rachel said. “Let me call the housemother and have her check with Naomi. If that’s all right with her, is it okay if I give the housemother your number so she can call you back directly?”
“Of course,” I said. “No problem.”
It took only another five minutes to nail down all the details. When we called Andrea back to confirm the appointment, once again Alan put the call on speaker. “What was the name of that shelter again?” she asked.
“It’s the Pike Street Mission, but it’s not on Pike Street anymore.”
Andrea laughed aloud at that. “I’m a social worker, Mr. Beaumont. Believe me, I’m up to date on the location of the various homeless shelters in the Seattle area. Rachel Seymour and I go way back.”
I didn’t hum a few bars of “It’s a Small World,” but I could have.
With the signing appointment set, Alan was downright jubilant. I didn’t look forward to telling him about my unwitting participation in Naomi’s parentage, but I couldn’t put it off any longer.
“Look,” I said finally, taking a deep breath. “There’s something I need to get off my chest. It’s time you heard the whole story.”
Alan studied me for a moment with a quizzical frown. “About what?” he asked.