Free Swift Justice by Laura DiSilverio

dollars so they could afford a down payment on a house when he got back. She brought in several samples of her work. She was a talented seamstress,” Melissa finished angrily. “How could I know?”
    I eyed her skeptically. “How could a sixteen-year-old named Elizabeth Sprouse cash paychecks made out to Lizzy Jones? Didn’t you have a Social Security number on her?”
    Melissa squirmed. “I paid her cash.”
    The light dawned. “Lizzy” was an off-the-books employee. Melissa was probably paying her well below the going rate. The IRS might have a bone to pick with Melissa, but I had bigger fish to fry. “When did you last see her?”
    “Maybe six weeks ago. She told me she was taking a few months off to have the baby. She was pregnant.”
    News flash. “And you never suspected? Not even when Olivia turned up on your doorstep?”
    “Why would I? It’s not like Lizzy was the only pregnant woman in the world!” Her face flushed. “She lied to me, took advantage of me . . . I gave her a hundred-dollar savings bond for the baby!”
    Anger, hurt, and humiliation twisted her face. I could only imagine what she was going through. Somewhat bothered by guilt for giving her child up for adoption, but unwilling to have a relationship with the nearly adult girl, she finds she’s had one for months with someone she treated as a casual employee. Lifetime Channel movie material starring a B-list has-been as Melissa and an up-and-coming teen actress as her daughter. In the movie, however, the daughter would reveal herself to the mother and they’d cling together in a tight embrace and raise the new baby together. That wasn’t going to happen here.
    “Did you never suspect anything?” I asked. “Did Lizzy ever ask questions you thought were strange?”
    “I didn’t spend that much time with her,” Melissa said. “I’d give her material, a pattern or photo of what I needed, and she’d bring the finished product back ahead of the deadline. Wait . . .” She held up one finger as a memory surfaced.“When she started wearing maternity clothes and the pregnancy was evident, she asked me if I had children.”
    I knew what she’d told Lizzy.
    She paced past me. “Well, I don’t! I’m not anyone’s mommy. My motherhood was nothing more than a biological accident.”
    There she went, projecting again. “You don’t have to explain it to me,” I said. “Do you have an address for her?”
    She shook her head. “She came here to pick up work and drop it off.”
    “How’d you let her know you had something for her?”
    She looked at me like I was a moron. “I called her, of course.”
    “Can I have that phone number?”
    She crossed to a desk in the corner of the showroom and clicked through an online contact file. “Here.” She wrote it on a yellow sticky and handed it to me.
    I could use a reverse directory to get an address. Although I wasn’t sure why I wanted one. I’d pass it along to Montgomery. My work was done. Missing person found. I said as much to Melissa, and she stared at me.
    “What? But what about the baby?”
    “Turn her over to CPS.”
    “I can’t. They’ll put her in a foster home. She’s my gran—” She cut herself off and massaged her temples with her fingers.
    Maybe caring for Olivia had activated some latent maternal hormones or something. Turning her daughter over for adoption hadn’t bothered her. Or maybe it had. “Then give her to Elizabeth’s parents.”
    “Right. To the people she ran away from.” She bit her lower lip. “You could check them out, see what kind of parents theyare. Or, what about the baby’s father?” Her eyes lit up. “You could find him. He’s the one who should have the baby.” She bent over her desk and began to scribble on something.
    Yeah, assuming he wasn’t a teenager, a rapist, or the married father of one of her friends. Not to be pessimistic, but I had a feeling Elizabeth was on her own for a reason. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to look