?
?I checked other prints, early ones, including the cover of Time. If you know to look for it, the mark can be seen on every reproduction of the photo. Not as large or as dark as it is now, but there. You’re about to put an end to all the speculation about the mystery child.”
“Some of the theories regarding my identity were pretty wild,” she said with a soft laugh. “I heard a TV preacher once say that I wasn’t flesh and blood. That I was an angel who’d been miraculously captured on film. That I’d been sent to escort home all the children who’d died in the explosion. Can you believe that?”
“I don’t believe in miracles.” He paused, then added, “You’re definitely flesh and blood, and I’m also willing to bet that you’re no angel.”
She hadn’t expected an answer to her rhetorical question. She certainly hadn’t expected his answer to feel like he’d lightly scratched her just below her belly button. Because of the dark sunglasses, she couldn’t read in his eyes whether or not he’d meant the remark to be suggestive. She was probably better off not knowing.
He continued. “It didn’t irk you when imposters came forward, claiming to be you?”
“Amused more than irked.”
“Amused, because you knew they’d have their fifteen minutes and then be debunked. They couldn’t prove their claim. You can.”
She touched the spot beneath her eye. “It’s irrefutable.”
“I should buy stock in magnifying glasses. Once you make the big reveal, there’s sure to be a run on them.”
“Oh, so we’ve circled back to what I hope to achieve.”
“Fame and fortune would be my guess.”
“Well, you’d be wrong.”
“You don’t expect to benefit?”
“Naturally I’ll benefit.”
“No shit.”
“But that’s not the only reason I’m going public.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“I want to thank the man who saved my life,” she said with heat. “Don’t you believe The Major is due my gratitude?”
“Past due. So what’s taken you so long? Oh, wait, I know. You’ve been waiting on the twenty-fifth anniversary for the big ta-da.”
“No, I’ve been waiting till my father died.”
Whatever he’d been about to say, he bit back. He looked aside for several seconds, then removed his sunglasses and flicked a glance at her. “Recently?”
“Eight months ago.”
He didn’t voice regret, but she saw it in his expression.
“It was a blessing,” she said. “He had suffered for a long time and had no quality of life.”
Trapper settled his gaze on her, a question in it.
“Shall I back up and start at the beginning?” she asked.
“The day of the bombing?”
“Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes.”