Page 133 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

“Pajamas—little cotton pants and a short-sleeve top.” Ms. Battleman narrowed her eyes. “If memory serves me correct, they were pink-striped.”

Callie barely remembered to stop herself from confirming that Ms. Battleman was right. Long ago Mom had told Callie the details she knew of that night.

“So you saw Little Girl Lost in the doorway,” Nate prompted. “What happened next?”

“At first I thought maybe her mother or father was in the bathroom. I was shocked to see her standing there alone, but not all parents have a brain in their head, so I hurried down the hall to see if perhaps someone had gone in to use the restroom. No one answered when I called into the men’s and ladies’ rooms, so I tried outside. This side of town isn’t entirely friendly at night—it was a little better back then, but not by much—so I kept my search quick. There was no one there.”

“No one loitering around at the gas station across the street?”

Ms. Battleman shrugged. “If there was, I didn’t take the time to notice.”

“And there were no cars in the parking lot?”

“Just mine and Earl’s. I did have a customer, so his was there too.”

“What about behind the diner—by the dumpsters?”

Ms. Battleman shook her head. “Earl always went out there—took care of the trash and boxes. Sometimes the homeless folks go diving. Earl was the cook. He’s gone, I’m afraid—about ten years now.”

Nate broke off another piece of his cookie. “Did Earl check out back that night?”

Ms. Battleman nodded. “He did, but he didn’t see anyone.”

“You said you had a customer.”

Ms. Battleman nodded again. “Blake Zion was his name.”

“Did he see anything?”

“No. Or he said no, and I believe him because he was snoring in his biscuits and gravy when I shook him awake to ask him the same thing.” She sipped her coffee. “He’s dead too. Heart attack about a year after I found the little girl. Doesn’t surprise me much—big as a house.”

Nate took the last bite of his cookie. “How long would you say you were in the kitchen—from the time you’d left Mr. Zion with his meal in the dining room before you came back out and found Little Girl?”

“Probably ten minutes. Certainly no more.”

“And you didn’t hear anything going on out front during that time?”

“Not a thing. I had no idea the child was there, but it didn’t take me long to figure out the poor baby was alone, so I started asking her some questions.”

Nate swallowed his bite. “Like what?”

“Let’s see.” She sighed as she looked to the ceiling. “I can’t remember exactly. I should, seeing as how I’ve been asked this question more times than I can count.”

“Sorry about that,” Nate interjected.

Ms. Battleman dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. “I asked her to tell me her name. She said she was Callie.” Ms. Battleman paused with her cup at her lips as she looked at Callie. “Uh, I asked her how old she was.” Ms. Battleman set down her cup, still staring at Callie.

Callie tensed, gripping her mug tighter, knowing that Ms. Battleman had made the connection.

“What was your name again?”

She couldn’t look away from Ms. Battleman’s intense gaze. “Callie.”

Ms. Battleman pressed her hand to her heart. “You’re her,” she whispered, hurrying to her feet. “Dear God, you’re her. You’ve got the blond hair and everything.”

Callie could do nothing but nod. Her secret was officially out. “Yes.”

“Dear God,” Ms. Battleman repeated, skirting around the coffee table to get to Callie, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce hug. “I’ve been wondering and worrying about you for twenty-two years.” She eased back. “You’re just as beautiful as could be.”