Trish nodded. “It is. Legally, it’s all that’s required. Your parents were married for only two and a half years. They divorced before your first birthday.”
I looked at the envelope and back to Trish. “What does it say about custody?”
“The court awarded your father and mother joint custody.”
“Joint?” I asked, puzzled.
“That surprised me too. I followed through on court records. A year after the divorce was final, the State of Kentucky revoked Olivia’s custody and awarded sole custody to Reid.”
“Why?”
“When you were sixteen months old, Olivia Stockard Hubbard took you, without permission, out of state. Your father hired a private investigator. The investigator tracked you to Douglas, Arizona. If you choose to read the file, there’s a police report. Olivia was charged with kidnapping.”
“My mother kidnapped me?”
“She crossed state lines, so it was a federal charge.”
“Was she convicted?” I asked.
“She was sentenced to four years in Arizona State Prison Complex, located in Goodyear, Arizona.”
“What happened to her after that?”
“Olivia Stockard—she officially dropped the Hubbard name while in prison—was released after only two and a half years due to prison overcrowding and—it appears—a favorable judge. She was put on mandatory parole. Three months into her parole, Olivia missed a meeting with her parole officer.” Trish took a deep breath. “She hasn’t been heard from since. There’s no trail, no credit cards, no residency, and no driver’s license or voter registration.” Trish inhaled. “She vanished.”
“Well, that’s shit.” I tossed the envelope down to the nearby table. “We don’t know if she’s dead or alive.”
Trish shook her head. “She’s listed as deceased, due to the length of time since her last known whereabouts. However, that doesn’t mean she is. There’s no record of a body.”
“People can’t really start a new identity, can they?”
Trish inhaled. “It takes the right money or connections. The government does it.”
“Why would the government give my mother a new identity?”
“It’s unlikely that they would. It is possible but improbable.”
A doubling sense of loss flowed over me, like a cool autumn shower, leaving me with goose bumps. “I lost both my parents.”
“Vee, you lost your mother a long time ago. I wouldn’t let this distract you from the battles at hand.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “My father may not have been the man I thought he was, but he was a good father. He was good for the Coopers. I plan to do whatever I can to carry that on.”
Trish stood. “I’m meeting with Cammy soon.” She looked at the envelope. “Do you want me to take that?”
I bit my lower lip. “No. I can’t promise I’ll read the information inside, but I want the ability to read it.”
Trish nodded. “After I meet with Cammy, I’ll work on the separation request to separate the Coopers from your father’s estate.”
“What about Bre and the baby?”
“Medical records are protected. Just know that baby won’t get a cent of Reid’s estate that belongs to you if there isn’t a positive paternity test.”
After Trish left, I took the manila envelope and slipped it under files in a long file drawer below the highboy in my office. As I started to close the drawer, I began to think about how little we use paper files anymore. However, Bre mentioned that Dad liked paper. He liked to physically hold things.
I called Aunt Rachel’s cell phone.
“Vee.”
