The Other Daughter by Lisa Gardner Read Free Book Online Page B

Seems strange to me that a nine-year-old child could appear out of nowhere, remember nothing, and be claimed by no one. Strange. Or planned.”
    “You know what they say, truth is stranger than fiction.”
    “Oh, that's a good one, Miss Holmes. Harper ever take you to a hypnotist? What about regression therapy or aromatherapy or whatever else quacks are dreaming up these days?”
    “The doctors who checked me out said I was physically fine and that I'd remember when I was ready to remember.”
    “Come on, Miss Holmes, surely the great Dr. Harper Stokes had a few opinions on this subject. He coulda taken you to a hypnotist anytime and what would anybody have done about it? What would have happened? You would've remembered, that's what. And your family, sweetheart, doesn't want you to remember.”
    “Oh, this is
stupid
! All you have supplied are a bunch of coincidences. And your little scenario has holes you could drive a truck through. Plain and simple, my parents
loved
Meagan. No way would they knowingly have adopted the child of her killer. That doesn't make sense.”
    Larry Digger was looking at her curiously. “You honestly believe that, don't you?”
    “Of course I do. What the hell do you mean?”
    “Huh.” He nodded to himself as if she'd just answered a very important question. Melanie shook her head, starting to feel more confused now, as if she were at the top of a very steep precipice and she'd just taken her first misstep.
    The throbbing in her head was growing. Black voids were appearing in front of her eyes. She hadn't suffered from a serious migraine in years, but now she had the faint realization that she was dangerously close to vomiting.
    “Maybe you had to know Harper and Patricia in Texas,” Digger was murmuring. “Maybe you had to see them sitting up in their rich palace no fourth-year resident should be able to afford. Maybe you had to see them in Texas with their two kids, one so sweet, everyone loved her, and one already so troubled, half the moms on the block wouldn't let him play with their children. I'm getting the impression, Miss Holmes, there's a helluva lot about your family you just plain don't know.”
    “That's not true. It's not.”
    “Ah, Miss Holmes.” Larry Digger sounded sympathetic, almost pitying. It confused her more than his vicious comments had. “Let me tell you something, Melanie, for your own sake. I didn't find you on my own, kid. I got a tip. An anonymous call in the middle of the night. Needless to say, reporters don't like anonymous tips, not even washed-up pieces of shit like me.” His teeth flashed, then his voice turned horribly somber. “I had the caller traced the second time, Miss Holmes. Right back to Boston, Massachusetts. Right back to Beacon Street. Right back to
your house
. Why do you think that is, Mel? Why is someone from your house calling
me
about Russell Lee Holmes?”
    “I don't …It doesn't …None of this makes any sense.” The world tilted suddenly. Melanie sat down on the ground. She heard herself whisper, “But that was so long ago…”
    Larry Digger smiled. “You get what you deserve, Melanie Stokes. By the caller's own words, you get what you deserve.”
    “No—”
    “How much of a person's temperament is genetic, Melanie Holmes? Are junkyard dogs born or raised? Are you really as polished and refined as your uptight adoptive parents, or does a little Texas white trash lurk beneath that surface? I already know you can be tough. Now, what about
violence
? Ever look at a little kid, Miss Holmes, and feel
hungry
?”
    “
No
! No. Oh, God…” Her head exploded. Melanie grabbed her temples, pressed her forehead against her knees, and rocked on the grass.
    From far away she heard Larry Digger chortle. “I'm right, aren't I? Twenty-five years later, I'm finally getting it ri—” His words suddenly ended in a yelp.
    Melanie turned slowly. A white figure had joined them in the park. He seemed to have his hand clamped on Larry