“Are you Dana Cooper?” Carly asked.
Nodding, the woman sucked on a cigarette and sobbed. She waved at the seat across from her, blew out a plume of smoke, and rested her cigarette in the ashtray notch while she snatched a tissue from a box at her elbow. A trio of beer cans was lined up on the table. Tony grabbed them and deposited the empties into an already full garbage can.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Carly eased onto the wooden chair.
“I can’t believe it.” Dana crumpled the tissue, then stabbed out her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. “I thought I had plenty of time to make up with her.”
Carly hadn’t gotten over her father’s death last spring, and thinking of her own young daughter at home, her heart ached for the grieving mother. “It must have been a terrible shock.”
Dana blew her nose.
Tony hovered next to Dana’s chair. “Why are you here?”
“Social services has taken custody of Charlotte,” Carly said. “Is she your granddaughter?”
“Not really.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his baggy brown pants. “Amber Lynn wasn’t mine.”
“I married Tony when Amber Lynn was fifteen,” Dana said in a flat voice. “Tony adopted Amber, but he’s her stepfather.” Dana lit another cigarette with a shaking hand. “Where is the baby now?”
“In a foster home.” Carly did not want to give Tony any more information than necessary. Something about the man made her skin itch. “When was the last time you saw Amber Lynn or the baby?”
“We only seen the child once.” Tony went to the small fridge and took out a can of Coke. He inclined it toward Carly in offer.
She smiled. “No, thank you.”
Tony popped the top. “Amber Lynn moved out right after she graduated high school. She came back after she had the kid, looking for a handout.”
Carly couldn’t blame the girl for running out of that home at the earliest opportunity. Tony couldn’t fully conceal the mean glint in his eye.
Staring out the window, Dana flicked her cigarette ash hard but remained silent. Something in her expression led Carly to think she’d seen her daughter but hadn’t told her husband.
“What did you tell her?” Carly glanced around the trailer. The space was tight. She couldn’t imagine a young woman and her baby crammed in here too, though she’d seen families who managed with less. Some were grateful to have a roof over their heads. Tony didn’t seem like the grateful type.
“We’re not rich.” Tony shrugged. “Baby was her problem, not ours.”
“So you haven’t seen the baby since she was a newborn.” Sadly, Carly thought that was probably for the best.
“Right.” Tony drank from the can and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do we get money if we take the kid?” He tried to make the question casual, but the sharpness of his gaze told Carly his interest was keen.
As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t lie. “Amber Lynn’s child might be eligible for Social Security benefits.”
“How much?” Tony took a cigarette from Dana’s pack. He reached for a lighter on the table. As his arm brushed Dana’s shoulder, she flinched. He lit up and took a deep drag.
Carly leaned away from the smoke. “I don’t know.”
All he wanted was the money. That was clear.
“What do we have to do to git her?” Tony leaned in, his eyes registering too much enthusiasm.
“I’m required to conduct a full investigation.” Carly opened her tote bag. “The child also has a father.” The fact that he was an unemployed ex-con with reportedly no interest in his child was irrelevant at this time.
“That’s bullshit.” Tony smacked the table.
Carly startled, and the narrow confines of the trailer suddenly felt like a trap.
Tony paced the parking spot–size kitchen. “The kid is Dana’s granddaughter. That should be enough.”
“I understand your frustration, but the system is a bureaucracy. There isn’t anything I can do about it,” Carly said, hoping to deflect his anger. “I have some forms you can fill out. I’ll need personal and professional references as well. The more you cooperate, the better your chances.”
“I’m unemployed. They can’t hold that against me.” Tony’s face locked in an insolent frown. “But Dana works, and me being home would be good for the kid. I’d be here to take care of her. We wouldn’t have to spring for day care.”