BRAINSTORM

Chapter Eight - A helluva a lot of uncles

Nick flung the last file onto the rising manila mountain. He stared at the tottering pile and thought of Melissa. She had a habit of making fun of him for printing everything out. He admitted the practice dated him, but he didn't really care. It still made more sense to him to hold paper in his hands. Besides, he liked it when Melissa teased him.

Somewhere in there was the NIH's secret. Nick flipped meticulously through each page in every folder. All the encrypted records concluded just like Sidney's had. The documented child was given to a foster home, and then the file ended abruptly.

Nick compared these high-security files to some of the normal ones that were part of a control group. In these, a child's history was always followed either to the point of adoption or adulthood. There were no exceptions, and that meant something. Some of these foster families must still be living in the D.C. area. He took out a red pen and started to circle addresses. He compiled his list, got dressed appropriately, and headed out the door.

~~~

Nick was almost done with his interview of Mr. Frank Sosa, who sat opposite him at Sosa's kitchen table. The man made a single, conglomerate fist with both his hands and rested it on the table's edge. He lifted his gaze to Nick. "So that was the end of that."

"Let me guess what her great uncle looked like."

Frank regarded Nick with a strange look. "Huh?"

Nick realized his mistake immediately. "Sorry. I got confused for a minute. I've talked to so many families today, my head is spinning." He smiled apologetically. "Why don't you describe him to me?"

Nick didn't need to listen to Frank's answer.

Five minutes later, he wrenched open the back door of his car and stuffed the file into the tote on his back seat. He ripped off his suit jacket and hurled it on top. Melissa liked him to hang his suit jackets up so they wouldn't get wrinkled, but right now he couldn't be bothered. He slammed the back door and thrust his body into the front seat. The tires of his black Audi screeched as he peeled away from the curb. The veins in his hands bulged as he gripped the steering wheel. "Every single one of them has the same damned uncle. That's a damn lot of sisters!"

Seven foster families and not one of them had successfully adopted any of the Sunshine children, though three of them had hoped to. Their stories ended the same. Some supposed uncle came to the foster home to take the child. This uncle character used the same story with each foster family. They all described him with the same characteristics that Henry Walker attributed to Sidney's great-uncle.

Nick drove onto the interstate. "Call Sam Prezziato," he told his car's computer.

"Hey," Sam answered. "What do you need? I only have a few minutes."

"Have you ever heard any weird rumors circling around Sunshine Children's Homes? Missing kids, hidden records, stuff like that?"

"No, can't say that I have. Aren't they supposed to be some sort of super-duper orphanage?" Sam laughed as if making a joke, which it wasn't.

Nick didn't laugh back. "Yeah, they are. But it's starting to look like they might be hiding something. Something big. Can you ask around for me, see if anyone knows anything?"

"Yeah, sure. You know the rate."

"What? No price increase?"

"Don't test me," Sam said with a laugh in his voice.

Nick had caught him at a good time. "I should know better after all these years."

"Yeah, you should."

Nick smiled. He segued into the other reason for his call. "Oh, and could you search government databases for a suspect's description, see if there's a match? It's for a different case."

"Yeah, okay. Just text me the details and give me a few days. I need to get off the phone now."

"Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome." Sam actually sounded like he meant it, exposing a sliver of the true persona beneath his vigilantly constructed exterior.