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.At least not on paper.No birth certificate.No death certificate.And yet, his mother had admitted to “putting him to sleep.”Had Regina Bennett killed her own child, as she had claimed? Had she also killed five other toddlers?As the day wore on, J.D.’s vision began to blur, his shoulders ached, and his belly growled, reminding him that he had skipped lunch.Information overload had scrambled his brain temporarily.He dropped the ballpoint pen on top of the yellow legal pad and stared sightlessly down at his scribbled notes.Despite hours of uninterrupted reading and studying, he had barely made a dent in the mile-high stack of files pertaining to the Baby Blue cases.But so far, he hadn’t found anything that might possibly link those cases to the present-day Rocking Chair Murders.Regina Bennett’s parents were dead, had died when she was a child.The childless aunt and uncle she had lived with were both dead now, too, and the farm they had owned had been sold years ago.The aunt and uncle had belonged to some fundamentalist sect of the Holy Brethren Church, a denomination J.D.had never heard of, but then not being a religious man himself, his knowledge was limited.There was no record that Regina had ever been married, just as there was no record of her son’s birth.J.D.’s phone rang.As he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, he grabbed the phone with his other.“Yeah, Special Agent Cass here.”“Are you going to pick me up sometime before dark or not?” Zoe sounded more than a little put out with him.Damn! What time was it? He glanced at his wristwatch.Five forty-three.“Sorry.I lost track of time.You should have already called.Practice was over a good while ago, wasn’t it?”“Just come get me, will you?”“I’m on my way.”“You’d better be.”He didn’t respond.If he did, he and Zoe would simply continue their verbal sparring match because she was always determined to have the last word, no matter what.And that, too, was so much like him.His father used to say that J.D.would have the last word even knowing he’d get his backside tanned for doing it.J.D.gathered up the assortment of documents on his desk and stuffed them back into their designated folders.He chose two folders to take home with him and locked the rest up in the file cabinet behind his desk.Once his desk was cleared, he removed his jacket from the back of his chair, slipped it on, and pulled his car keys from his pants pocket.He headed southwest on Highway 58, took a left on Chestnut Street, then a right on West Fourth and ramped onto U.S.27 North.Thinking ahead, J.D.decided that after he picked up Zoe, they’d head over to McAlister’s and get takeout for supper.He wasn’t a great cook, but he occasionally prepared their meals.They ate out every once in a while, but mostly he bought takeout for them.Except for his three-year marriage to Erin, he’d been a bachelor his entire adult life.And except for adding a teenage daughter to the mix, he still lived a bachelor’s life.After exiting onto Signal Mountain Boulevard, he turned left at New Baylor School Road.The uniformed sentry standing outside the guard shack glanced his way.After the guard noted the round red sticker emblazoned with a large white B for Baylor adhered to the lower left corner of the Camaro’s windshield, J.D.was allowed to follow the line of vehicles entering the campus.There was no way he could have afforded to send Zoe to this exclusive old school if Carrie hadn’t left a decent life insurance policy.Apparently despite Carrie’s party-girl lifestyle, she had loved Zoe enough to think of the child’s future.A scholarship to Baylor had been out of the question since her grades weren’t all that great despite her having a high IQ.And although she was a decent athlete, she wasn’t a star player and therefore not eligible for an athletic scholarship.He had debated about spending the nearly twenty grand a year to put Zoe in private school, but he’d decided that a top-notch education would do her far more good in the long run than a hundred grand in the bank.She wore one of the mandatory school uniforms, her apparel today consisting of a red blouse and plaid skirt; and she had her dark hair pulled into a ponytail.With her book bag slung over her shoulder, Zoe opened the passenger door, removed the book bag, and threw it into the back floorboard.She fell into the front bucket seat and slammed the door.“Bad day?” he asked.“Bad life.” She snapped the reply as she folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead, not bothering to even glance his way.He didn’t respond, knowing if he did it would lead only to more squabbling.In the beginning, he had hoped that they would learn to like each other and their daily lives would fall into a peaceful routine.No such luck.If the counseling sessions with Dr.Sherrod didn’t work, then he didn’t know what else to do except take Holly’s advice and change Zoe’s status at Baylor from day student to boarding student.At least that way, they’d have to tolerate each other only on occasional weekends and during summer vacation.“I thought we’d pick up takeout from McAlister’s,” J.D.said.“Whatever.” Zoe shrugged.“Decide what you want.” J.D.followed the line of traffic off campus and back onto Signal Mountain Boulevard.“You mean I have a choice? I figured you’d just choose for me since you’re determined to run my life.”“I’m not arguing with you this evening,” he told her.“I’ve had a long day and I’ll be up late tonight going over some files I’m taking home with me.I know you’re upset with me for picking you up late.I’ve already apologized for that, so drop it.Whatever other complaints you have, save them for our appointment with Dr.Sherrod on Friday.”Much to his surprise, Zoe didn’t come back with a smart-mouth response.And when they arrived at McAlister’s, she told him she wanted a Super Spud with chicken and sweet tea.On the ride home up the mountain and during dinner together, she didn’t talk except to reply succinctly to whatever he said.She rose from the kitchen table, picked up the Styrofoam container that held the remnants of her meal and the empty cup.“May I be excused? I’ve got a lot of homework.”He glanced up at his daughter and nodded.“Yeah, sure.I’ll come in and say good night at ten.”“Yeah, sure.” She mimicked him.He grinned.“If you need any help with your homework—”“Thanks, I won’t.” She dumped the foam container and cup into the garbage can and left the kitchen.J.D.cleaned up, took out the trash that had accumulated for the past couple of days, and then settled down in front of the TV with a beer and the two file folders he’d brought home from work.He kept the sound muted after he caught the weather forecast for the next day, lifted his feet onto the coffee table in front of him, and opened the first folder
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