Melina and Ramsey arrived at the diner just before the dinner crowd would be coming through. She led the way, reaching for the diner’s door seconds before Ramsey.

Growing up as the only child of Detective Hank Shepard, she was basically the son he never had. Her mother had tried to expose their daughter to more ladylike pursuits, but Melina had always gravitated toward hikes in the woods and the garage, where her dad would tinker on his 1974 Cutlass Supreme.

Which was now why she was uncomfortable having a man holding a door or allowing her to walk ahead first. With Ramsey she sensed the moves were automatic. He had been so steeped in old Virginia culture that it was now a part of his DNA.

Ramsey did not seem to mind when she took the lead and followed her and the hostess to a booth in the corner. She slid into the booth as he did, and each reached for a menu. She glanced around and searched for the public pay phone that an unknown caller had used twenty-eight years ago to save her life. There was no sign of it. She had seen pictures of it on the wall by the counter when she had pulled the police report detailing her rescue.

“Have you ever been here before?” Ramsey asked.

“I come about once a year. I always speak to the owner, Pop. He said he was here the night the police received the call about me.”

“Does he remember who made the call?”

“No.”

The waitress arrived at their table. Each accepted a cup of coffee. He ordered the omelet. She asked for a Big Boy burger with fries. Then she asked for extra fries. The waitress took one look at her slim figure and joked, “There is no God,” and turned to place the order.

Melina looked out the window toward the four-lane highway, watching as the traffic rushed past. “Who leaves a kid on the side of the road?”

“You’ve already met one of them. Sadly, there are many more.”

Her mind returned to the body found in the woods behind Mecum’s house. “I shouldn’t gripe. I wouldn’t be here now if not for Bonnie.”

“Good way to look at it.”

She regarded him, watching as he raised his cup to his lips. He moved with precision, as if he never wasted energy on anything unnecessary.

“I know,” she said. “Speaking of evil, is there anyone in the Nashville area who knows Mecum? It’s clear that house is not his hideout.”

“Jackson’s team and Andy are searching for other residences, properties, and possible associates.”

Their meals arrived and she immediately picked up a hot, slightly oily fry and grinned. Nervous energy aside, it had been a couple of days since she’d had a real hot meal. And she did not know when she would see the next one.

As they ate, their conversation centered on old cases they each had worked, and she realized their paths had almost crossed several times before. At the end of the meal, he insisted on paying. When they stepped outside and got into the car, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was always glad to leave that place.

Her phone rang as he pulled onto the highway. “Andy,” she said. “That was quick.”

“When it comes to computers, I can do magic,” Andy said.

“I’m here with Agent Ramsey. Mind if I put you on speaker?”

“As long as you don’t mind Agent Ramsey hearing a few details about your past.”

“I’m an open book.” Melina actually trusted Ramsey with the details of her past more than anyone she had met in a long time. She hit the button.

“Hello, Andy,” Ramsey said.

“Hey, boss. Glad I caught you as well. This might be of interest to you both.”

Ramsey started the car but, instead of driving, sat as he focused his full attention on Andy’s words. “Ready when you are.”

“As you likely know, Agent Shepard provided me access to her DNA account. First thing I did was cross-check her DNA against the sample collected from Jennifer Brown’s sink. It was not a match.”

She was disappointed and relieved. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” Andy said. “I was able to upload it to GEDMatch, an open-source site. Because your DNA is available for access, GEDMatch is able to crossmatch it with its entire database. Any blood relative who has done the same will create a match. From there, a family tree can begin to be constructed. Best hit we had for Melina was a great-grandmother.”

“How did my great-grandmother get in the system?” Melina asked.

“One of the many hundreds of relatives you have is likely an amateur genealogist and uploaded it.”

“What is the bottom line?” Melina was more anxious than she realized to have something concrete about her past.

“The great-grandmother, Ann Talbot, had a son named Howard by her first marriage. Ann remarried when Howard was only five, and her second husband adopted the boy. His name changed from Talbot to Guthrie.”

“Our connection to Bonnie Guthrie,” Melina said.

“Correct. Howard and his first wife, Felicia, had two children. The boy, born in 1959, and his sister, in 1960. After thirty years of marriage, Felicia died. Howard married Bonnie Franklin, now known as Bonnie Guthrie, in 1989.”

“Is what Bonnie told me about her late husband’s family true?” Melina asked.

“Yes,” Andy said. “Lizzie Guthrie, Howard’s daughter, was born in 1960 and earned herself a long rap sheet. I know this because Agent Ramsey sent me her name and I did a complete search. Her offenses were mostly related to drugs and prostitution. She’s in CODIS and I was able to cross-check her DNA against Agent Shepard’s. They’re a match. Mother and daughter.”

Melina set her head back against the rest and for a moment she drew inward, hearing only the beat of her heart and her rapid breathing. She kept her gaze on the ceiling. “Are you sure?”

“It’s a ninety-eight percent chance that she was your biological mother. Lizzie was thirty when she died. You would have been about three at the time, Agent Shepard.”

Loss, sadness, and anger collided and then tangled into a tight ball. In a matter of seconds, she had found her birth mother and had just as quickly lost her. Her throat tightened, and she did not trust herself to speak in a calm voice.

Ramsey said, “Did Lizzie Guthrie have any other children?”

“She did. She had a son, who was born three years before Agent Shepard,” Andy said. “According to birth records in California, Bonnie Guthrie’s account of Agent Shepard’s half brother was correct. The boy’s name was Dean Guthrie. He does not have a police record.”

Frustration ate at Melina as she thought about this dead end. “What about my DNA? Can you find Dean using my profile?”

“I have loaded your DNA into CODIS, Agent Shepard. Your DNA might help us find Dean Guthrie. He can change his name but not his DNA.”

“Excellent work,” Ramsey said.

Melina remained silent, trying to process what amounted to family information overload.

Andy took another long pause and said, “One last detail. Your original California birth certificate states you were born September 2, 1987, not August 1.”

“My parents didn’t know my vital statistics. Knowing my mother, she picked the date because it had a sentimental reason,” Melina said.

Computer keys clicked on the other end of the line. “When your birth mother died, Howard and Bonnie took custody of you and your half brother. You lived with both until Howard died of a heart attack a year later.”

This all fit with what Bonnie had told her. The woman traded on lies, but she also knew when to use the truth. “According to Bonnie, she retained custody of me.”

“There is no filing with the California courts regarding a custody order. Bonnie’s first arrest was in 1976 and then nothing until 1992. She received a speeding ticket in Tennessee. She was given a court date but didn’t appear.”

“My dad found me in November of 1992.”

“Bonnie was headed east on Route 25.”

Melina smoothed her hands over her thighs, letting her mind trip back. A distant audio memory flashed. Gravel kicked up under tires. A car engine roared. She watched the car drive away and in the back window saw a face. The details of that face narrowed into focus. The child, a boy, was screaming and pounding on the window.

“She kept Dean and put me out on the side of the road like a dog.” Melina was amazed her voice sounded so matter of fact, even distant.

“It appears so,” Andy said quietly. “Bonnie was arrested in 2000. Her arrest record notes there was an underaged boy with her. He gave his name as Dean Guthrie. The pair of them were stealing from an electronics store. As Bonnie was being cuffed, the boy asked to go to the bathroom. He vanished and cops couldn’t find him.”

“In 2000, Dean would have been sixteen,” Ramsey said.

She cleared her throat again. “Do we know anything about him?”

“No. I haven’t had a lot of time to look for him, but he seems to have fallen off the radar after Bonnie’s 2000 arrest.”

“Keep us posted,” Ramsey said.

“I would bet money he’s here in Nashville,” Melina said, her intuition gnawing at her.

“Why do you say that?” Andy asked.

“Because Bonnie came back to Nashville,” Melina said. “She didn’t come looking for me. She came looking for Sonny.”