“No.”
“Arlo Murray thought she had a degree. So did Florence Sorg.”
“Am I the most talented and beguiling man you’ve ever laid eyes on?”
I rolled those eyes.
“In the fall of 1986, a Melanie Judith Chalmers enrolled on full scholarship at American University in Washington, D.C. She graduated in 1990 with a BS in biology and was accepted into a graduate program at—”
Ryan slowly and carefully finished his pasta, laid down his fork, and dabbed his lips with his napkin.
“I could hurt you,” I said.
“In the fall of 1990, a Melanie Chalmers began graduate studies in molecular biology and genetics at Tufts University.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Sadly, she dropped out after two semesters.”
“Poor grades?” I asked.
“Her transcript says otherwise.”
I gave that some thought.
“Ella must have been born in 1991. Perhaps the pregnancy forced Melanie to quit. Maybe the demands of motherhood.”
“Perhaps the academic disappointment was what left her ‘bitter and unhappy.’?” Ryan hooked quotes around the two adjectives.
“If she was.”
“Murray described her that way. Eisenberg didn’t refute it.”
Unable to disagree, I let it go.
Instead, I asked, “Did you find anything on Melanie’s children, Ella and Lena? Their father’s name? Did they have the same father? Did she marry the guy? Guys? Is he still around?”
“Take a deep breath.”
I did.
“Tomorrow I’ll float more queries for government documents, school registrations, whatever.”
“Lena would have been born in 1999, maybe as late as 2000. If it was 2000, Melanie may already have been living in Canada. You found no birth certificate here.”
“None. I’ll start with Massachusetts and D.C., but Melanie could have gone anywhere after dropping out of Tufts. Not knowing for sure the city or even the state, it may take a while.”
We sat in silence for a few moments. I thought about Ryan’s findings.
“Didn’t Sorg say Melanie worked for an outfit called HGP?”
“Could start with that,” Ryan said. “Eat.”
I did.
“There’s more.”
I stopped.