Read Online Identity by Ingrid Thoft - Free Book Online Page A

asked. A large bird was poking at the grass with its beak.
    “It’s a wild turkey.”
    “It’s huge. Is it friendly?”
    “I haven’t invited it in, but I’m sure Frank is doing his research.”
    “Is that how he’s keeping busy? Researching the local wildlife?”
    Frank was a semiretired PI who had taught Fina everything she knew. Actually, everything she knew that was legal. He couldn’t be held responsible for her less ethical activities.
    Peg rinsed her hands and dried them on a dish towel. “Are you joining us for dinner?” Five forty-five was the dinner hour at the Gillises’ house. This schedule made Fina feel like she’d stepped into a wormhole straight to Miami and its early bird specials, but she also appreciated the consistency. Grown-ups are really toddlers at heart; they feel safer with routines.
    “I’ll sit with you, but I’m not going to eat if that’s okay.”
    “That’s fine. Frank!” Peg called toward the other end of the small house. “Dinner!” She turned to Fina. “Could you set the table, hon?”
    Fina gathered plates and utensils and set two places at the roundtable nestled in the corner of the kitchen. Frank walked in a few minutes later, and the three sat. Fina watched them dig in to a traditional boiled dinner, otherwise known as corned beef and cabbage.
    “Bet you’re sorry you turned this down,” Frank said, stabbing a pale, mushy potato with his fork.
    “No offense to Peg, but no. I’m not a fan.” Fina took a sip of a diet soda she’d found in the refrigerator.
    “How are things at Ludlow and Associates?” Frank asked between mouthfuls.
    “Never the same without you.” Fina shook her head. Frank had left the firm a few years before, and Fina sorely missed his presence. “I’m still in the doghouse.”
    “Sweetie, you’ve been in the doghouse since the moment I met you,” he said kindly.
    “My recent sins may even be worse than flunking out of law school.”
    “I don’t see how you could have swept your brother’s behavior under the carpet,” Peg commented. “You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself.”
    Fina rotated her drink on the tabletop. “I know, but now Carl can’t seem to live with me.”
    Peg patted her hand. “Hang in there.”
    “I’m trying.”
    “So what are you working on?” Frank asked.
    “Uncovering the identity of a sperm donor. A single mother by choice used a sperm bank seventeen years ago and now she wants to find the daddy. I’ve just started, and it feels more like a soap opera than a mystery.”
    “An anonymous donation?” Peg asked.
    “Supposed to be. The mother has gotten it into her head that her child has a right to know the identity of her father, regardless of the legalities.”
    “You don’t agree?” Frank asked.
    “The mom signed a contract when she bought the sperm. She knew what she was getting into. I understand that times change, but then the law should be changed moving forward, not retroactively.”
    “Sounds like it could get sticky.” Frank put a forkful of cabbage into his mouth. It looked like bleached seaweed.
    “Especially when you factor in the mom. Do you remember the Ramirez case?”
    “Remind me,” Frank said.
    “It was the slip and fall in public housing a few years ago. One of the witnesses was the head of the Urban Housing Collaborative. That’s the mom: Renata Sanchez.”
    “It rings a bell.”
    “She’s in the news a lot,” Peg commented, and cut a piece of corned beef. “She does a lot for the lower-income community.”
    “I know,” Fina said, “and she has my respect and admiration for her work. It’s the other stuff I’m not sure about.”
    “What does the child say?” Peg asked.
    “That’s the part I’m not thrilled about. Her daughter has no interest in the case. Renata is convinced it’s in Rosie’s best interest, but Rosie doesn’t want to find out her father’s identity, at least not like this.”
    “The daughter doesn’t get a say?”