Page 150 of Veil of Silence

By the time Austin’s phone buzzed, there was nothing left to pack. The suitcase sat open on the bed anyway, as if neither of them were ready to close it.

He glanced at his phone and saw Prine’s name on the screen again. Why was she calling again so soon?

There was only one reason he could think of: She had an update.

“Donnelly,” he answered.

“Where are you?”

“Still at the motel packing Dad’s things.”

“Is Nora with you?”

“Yes.”

“Then step outside.”

Austin didn’t ask why. He excused himself and pulled the door shut behind him and crossed the concrete walkway to the railing. Below, a man in a Titans cap loaded a minivan while a toddler in a puffy coat watched from the sliding door.

“I’m outside.”

“Good. This isn’t meant for anyone’s ears but yours.”

“What’s going on?” Tension stretched across his back.

“When I sent the boy’s DNA to the lab a few weeks ago, I asked them to run it against the reference DNA file from the original case.” Prine’s voice sounded level—almost too level. “I just got the update.”

That was the routine in cases like this. When a child went missing, the FBI collected samples from both parents and from something of the child’s. In Christian’s case, ten years ago investigators had found a hair with an intact root on his hairbrush. They entered that DNA into his original file.

He tried to follow where Prine was going with her statement. “You told us the boy isn’t related to the family . . .”

“He isn’t. That hasn’t changed.” Papers rustled on her end. “But the lab also ran the whole file against itself. Christian’s original profile from the hairbrush. His mother’s. His father’s.”

Austin’s palm went cold against the railing, and paint flaked under his thumb. He could sense the incoming bad news.

“The hairbrush sample is consistent with Ruth being Christian’s biological mother,” Prine said. “But it excludes Clayton as his biological father.”

“What are you saying?” He needed to hear the words out loud.

“I’m saying that Clayton Loveless isn’t Christian’s biological father.”

Austin froze as he let the statement sink in.

He thought of the family photographs in his father’s file. A man with one hand on a small boy’s shoulder. The doting father he’d seen in action at the Loveless house.

Was this correct? He knew Prine wouldn’t call if it wasn’t. But . . .

“The lab ten years ago would have caught that,” he muttered.

“The lab ten years ago searched the parents’ profiles against unidentified remains. Nobody compared Christian to his parents. There was no reason to. Everyone in that file was who they said they were.”

Austin turned. Through the gap in the curtain, he saw Nora smooth the shirts flat with both hands.

He looked back at the parking lot, dread settling in his stomach. “Does Ruth know Christian isn’t Clayton’s son?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I need to find out, and I need to be the one to ask.” She paused. “I need to talk to Ruth before I talk to Clayton or her daughters. I’m asking you to keep this quiet for now.”

He pressed his eyes closed as the truth washed over him. “You want me to keep this from Nora.”