So now he needed to find a John Sullivan Raines, around forty-five or so years old, who was born in Kansas City, Missouri.

Instead, he found a death notice for Joseph Frederick Raines, listing survivors as his wife, Dolly, and one son, Sullivan Raines, also of Kansas City, Missouri.

Marc paused, staring at the name. It didn’t seem real. He needed a face to go with it, so he kept digging.

Then he found a very recent death notice for Dolly Raines. The only surviving member of the family was a son, Sullivan Raines, with no wife or children listed. Marc frowned. His son’s life was eerily similar to the life he had been living. He had not put down roots with a family, so what the hell had his son been doing with his life?

It wasn’t until he ran a search on the name Sullivan Raines that he began to get hits on the same subject matter and finally came to the realization that his son was a fireman. That sent his search in a whole other direction, as he began looking through Kansas City newspapers for mention of him. He found one very poor photo showing a fireman in full gear carrying out a victim of an apartment fire. The photographer had attributed the rescue to a Fireman Raines and mentioned the station he was from, but Marc still didn’t have a photo of his face.

And then he found a notice about Sully Raines retiring after twenty-six years of service, which surprised him. Sully must have joined the fire department straight out of high school.

But it wasn’t until he found a photo of the retirement ceremony that he finally saw his son’s face. It was a blow to the heart to see his face on a stranger. The thick, black hair like Marc’s used to be. The dark eyes like his. The slight hook on the bridge of his nose. The classic shape of a very Mediterranean face. An Adamos face.

He stared at the picture until his vision blurred, and then he covered his face and wept.

Chapter 19

Marc’s dreams that night were nightmares. He woke up the next morning with a heavy heart, but as he was making coffee, it dawned on him that he might be able to contact his son through the fire department where he used to work.

After a short search to find the phone number of the station, Marc made the call.

“Station Twelve, this is Rick.”

“Rick, my name is Marc Adamos. I’m trying to locate Sully Raines.”

“He doesn’t work here anymore,” Rick said.

Marc frowned. He wasn’t giving up this easy. “I’m Sullivan Raines’s birth father, and I’m trying to find him. By any chance do you have a contact number for him?”

“The Sully Raines I know wasn’t adopted, or at least he never said anything about it.”

Marc frowned. “Maybe he didn’t know. I just found out that I had a son. Could you at least give him my phone number? Then if he chooses, he could call me.”