Page 66 of Home Body
“Oh yeah. A deputy. But he’s been trying to get me to go out with him, so he’ll do anything I ask.”
With reassurance that Prissy hadn’t quite stolen anything, Saul fingered one of the folders, his hand shaking.
It was Inez, who’d known of his connection to this case for so many years, who said, “Saul.” She put a hand on his. “Once they prosecute Nellie Franklin, all the evidentiary records will be released. You’ll find out what happened with your niece.”
He squeezed her hand and let go, pulling his hands back to his lap. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ve waiting for so long, a little while longer won’t matter. Let’s see what we have here for you, Dalia.”
All eyes fell on Dalia as she slowly opened the folder. Running a light finger down the top page, she read, “‘1970. B. Dollinger, Boy. College student State. Paid three hundred dollars; sold five thousand dollars. #24.’ Geez. Could that mean birth number twenty-four that year alone?” Aghast, she looked to her audience for help.
“Well, you should see those folders,” Prissy said. “I didn’t have much time to go over anything, but it looks like there were fewer in the beginning and more and more as time went on. There were a lot of them. Gramps said they were in business for twelve years, right up until the old doc’s death. They started in 1965.”
Inez chimed in, disgusted at what they were discovering. “Georgia Tann got away with selling five thousand children in twenty-five years. About two hundred a year.”
“Wow!” Prissy said. “That’s more than sixteen a month. An average of at least four a week.” The others looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. “I’m good with math.”
Dalia thumbed through the old pages, written on lined paper. “Prissy, you were right. There must be about fifty names here for this one year alone. That’s what? Six hundred babies soldin twelve years?” She looked at Prissy for reassurance and got a nod.
Saul got up and poured himself another whiskey. He pointed at Inez. She took another, too. As he poured, he said, “This was a smaller business than Tann’s, but still no doubt very lucrative for Upton. It appears that in this case the woman paid three hundred dollars for the birth, and he sold the poor baby boy for five thousand dollars. That’s a nice profit.”
He sat and sipped his whiskey. The professor took a gulp of hers and had a suggestion. “Let’s divide these up five ways. About ten each. We’re looking for May 27, correct?”
Dalia nodded and leafed through the first few pages. “But there don’t seem to be any specific dates here.”
“Well, maybe we’ll figure out something,” Kenyon offered hopefully.
Dalia doled them out and they went to work. It was Prissy who recognized a pattern. “Wait. Look at this.” She spread out three pages for all to see. “The numbers at the end of each one, I think that’s the day. And these numbers all alone on the bottom are the month. See? This one would be September 3rd. It’s kinda in code. These stray numbers on the bottom only go up to twelve. Right? They’re months.”
Everybody riffled through their stack and could verify her theory.
“And the other numbers don’t go beyond thirty-one, correct?”
She was right again.
Inez squinted at the papers. “Let’s put all the matching numbers from the bottom, the potential months, in separate piles.”
They finished and sat back, no one saying anything as they homed in on the May pile. Hands shaking, Dalia picked up the pile. No one moved as she leafed through the pages looking forone that had the number twenty-seven, her birthday. She froze when she found it, staring in disbelief.
“#27,” she read. “It says, ‘1970, L. Robertson, Girl. College student CMU. Paid three hundred dollars; sold ten thousand dollars!’” Her eyes widening in disbelief, she added, “Oh my god, that could be me.”
Kenyon shot up out of her seat so fast she almost knocked over her chair. Instinctively, Inez stood up and reached out to her.
“Kenyon, what is it?” It was Dalia who asked.
Kenyon backed away from the table as if it’d become contaminated with radioactivity. “My…my mom. Her maiden name is Robertson. She was at CMU at that time.” She started to cry.
Dalia got up to take her arm. “Kenyon, that’s impossible. It can’t be your mom. I mean, your mom can’t be my birth mother. Why that’s just, I don’t know, ridiculous.”
Kenyon glared at her. “No, it isn’t.”
“Has she ever talked about having a baby before getting married?” Inez asked gently.
“No. No, she hasn’t.”
The two young women stared at one another, the entire dynamic of their friendship changing in that instant. Not knowing what to do or say, they didn’t speak.
Prissy solemnly gathered the folders, bid them adieu, and left. The women also took their leave. Dalia and Kenyon didn’t talk much on the way back to Farmdale. Both knew that what they’d discovered would alter the course of their lives forever, and they hadn’t figured out yet what to do with that knowledge.
CHAPTER 38
