“Her mother was in the intensive care unit on the third floor,” I said.

“Paul told me you were brain-dead,” Rebecca said, her eyes darting toward the door.

“I just trusted him.

Taking care of a child isn’t a crime.”

“It’s federal kidnapping,” Vance said quietly.

Vance turned to Rebecca, his jowls gray and slack.

“Did you know about the forged death certificate, Rebecca?”

“Paul handled the paperwork,” she said.