“Why did she give you my number?”
“She didn’t exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“She arrived without a working phone. During intake, she provided your name. We located your number through public records with her permission.”
That somehow frightened me more.
She had deliberately asked for me.
“Did you verify who she is?”
“We have identification for the name she’s currently using.”
“Which is?”
Dana hesitated.
“I think she should explain that herself.”
“No. If you’re asking me to drive ninety minutes to meet a woman pretending to be my dead sister, I need more than that.”
Another silence.
“Her legal name is currently Rebecca Hale.”
Rebecca.
Not a stolen first name, then.
“How old?”
“Thirty-six.”
Exactly right.
I closed my eyes.
“What does she look like?”
“I’m not comfortable using appearance as identification.”
“Does she have a scar below her left knee?”
Dana paused.
“I can ask.”
