In coming days she’d go to a lot of “interviews.”
In reality the only interviews she’d do on this particular day would be with prospective drug buyers. She’d be asking them what their drug of choice was.
Immediately after dropping off the baby she went to a grocery store and purchased two things: a box of baking powder and a box of rock salt.
She had to go next door for colored tissue paper and a kid’s activity book. But no crayons. She didn’t need any damn crayons.
She already had a pair of scissors in her purse.
The scissors were mostly for self-defense, since she dealt with some pretty shady characters sometimes.
She once carried a small gun in her purse, but as a convicted felon that was no longer an option. Such a weapon was a sure ticket back to the slammer, no questions asked.
Do not pass go.
Do not collect two hundred dollars.
Go directly to jail.
Before going back to her motel room she made one last stop.
At a head shop, where she paid $7.99 for a hundred tiny zip-lock bags.
Each was about the size of a postage stamp and adorned with little yellow smiley faces.
Dope bags.
Chapter 38
From his hospital bed Wayne Hamlin had a lot of time on his hands.
He’d noticed his nurses had gotten appreciably friendlier since he went from John Doe to Joe Celebrity. They now seemed to dote on him.
Not enough to pull some strings and speed up his release, which was what he really wanted.
But at least he didn’t have to want for anything else.
His cup of ice never went empty. They came in every hour on the hour to fluff his pillows or ask if he needed anything.
“This,” Julie quite correctly observed, “must be how the rich and famous recover.”
Word had gotten around that Julie snuck down to the hospital’s courtyard several times a day for a cigarette.
That was where she too held court. Where she too was treated as a celebrity.
That was where she was hit up by semi-desperate reporters hungry for a scoop. They were quick to light her cigarette, or even to offer her one.
They flattered her. Told her how pretty she looked or admired her nail polish.
They tried to impress her in various ways, by saying such ridiculous things as “I once visited Springfield when I was young. It’s such a beautiful city.”
Or, “I drive a Chevy Equinox too. You’re quite smart in getting something that’s good for the environment and your pocketbook at the same time.”
They seemed to fawn over her. They seemed to want to be her friend.
But Julie wasn’t stupid. She saw right through them.
Most of the guys who lit her cigarettes probably didn’t even smoke. They probably ran to the gift shop while waiting for her to come downstairs and purchased a lighter.
She hoped they paid exorbitant gift shop prices for them.
The man who claimed to have visited Springfield as a young man likely didn’t have a clue what it looked like today.
Yes, it was a beautiful city. But he was sixty if he was a day. If he went there when he was “young” it was a vastly different place.
If he went there at all.
As for the reporter who also owned an Equinox, Julie happened to see him pull into the parking lot when she was headed for her hotel the night before.
In a Kia.
Still, she didn’t call him on it. She was a southern girl, having grown up in Georgia. She still remembered the “manners and etiquette” classes her grandmother made her take when she was a teen.
It was never appropriate to intentionally embarrass someone, even when they deserved it.
There were a few she bonded with; those who were respectful and not too pushy and seemed to have a genuine concern for Wayne and how he was feeling.
She tended, if Wayne wasn’t napping or feeling bad, to take one such reporter at a time back to his room when she finished her cigarette.
The police still guarded his door. Still had explicit instructions not to let any reporters pass.
But they made an exception for anyone who passed muster with Mrs. Hamlin.
For reporters trying desperately to interview Dr. Hamlin, it was really their only ticket in.
Harold was starting to see his own words showing up on the news broadcasts now. Not his face, for he looked a mess and told the reporters no, they could not shoot him with the cameras they snuck in or with their cell phones.
But he’d see the reporters go live on their respective networks, sometimes mere minutes after they finished their interviews, and tell their viewers that Dr. Hamlin told them this or that.
A couple skewed his words a bit, but most were fairly accurate.
A month before Wayne Hamlin was fairly well known around Springfield. And to a worldwide network of educators and scientists.
Now he was known all over the world, to the man on the street and well as the rich and powerful and famous.
The icing on the cake was when one policeman came to replace another at shift change.
The outgoing policeman snuck into the room and whispered a request to Wayne for his autograph.
Wayne decided it was rather fun, being a celebrity.
Chapter 39
Hannah had updated her cell phone’s contact list since Rebecca’s call and added her name and number.
When it rang again, she was a bit disappointed to see Tony’s name flash across the phone’s face instead of Rebecca’s.
Then she was disappointed in herself for feeling so.
She’d always been excited when Tony called her before.
“Hi Tony.”
“Hi baby. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine…”
“We’re finished here. We’ve taken photos of a couple of hundred tall women with brunette hair going in or out of the DHS or DI buildings.
“We were going to drive to Missouri so I could pick up the car if that’s okay. It’ll mean an extra day and a half before we get there. But we’ve got to get it sometime.
“The other option is we can drive straight back to Little Rock and go get it after you’ve gone through the photos.”
She hadn’t heard a word he said. She was too busy struggling with a decision she’d made just before he called.
She was planning to keep the whole Rebecca thing to herself until she found out whether she was being played. But it wasn’t fair to Tony not to tell him.
Plus, she’d never kept secrets from him. She didn’t want to start now.
After all, he was hurting too.
“Actually, Tony, something has happened you need to know about.”
He knew it. He could sense in her voice something was amiss.
“Baby, what’s happened? Tell me about it.”
“Rebecca came to see me.”
“What? When?”
“Yesterday. I wasn’t going to tell you about it because there’s a possibility she’s playing a trick.
“But I really don’t think so. I really think she’s telling me the truth.”
“About what?”
“She says they had one of their employees… no, someone who does contract work for them… bring Samson to me. And that she stole the baby instead.
“She asked for a sample of my blood. She said someone found a dead baby that fit Samson’s description. She needed a drop of my blood to see if it was him.
“Then she called back a little while later to say it wasn’t.”
“Honey, I don’t want you associating with that woman. What if she poisoned you instead of just drawing your blood?”
“She didn’t poison me. And she didn’t draw my blood. She asked me to poke my finger and to give her a drop of it. And then she left.”
“I still don’t trust her.”
“I don’t either, Tony. Not completely, anyway. But I got the impression she was sincerely sorry the woman didn’
t bring Samson back to us.
“And I’ll be honest with you. If there’s even the slightest chance she’s legit… that she wants to help us… I don’t see how we can refuse her.
“I mean, I’m willing to do anything at all and accept anybody’s help if it’ll get our baby back.”
“So now what?”
“She said she’d call once a day to give us a status report. And she gave us a number. She said we could call her anytime to see if they’ve found him yet.”
“And that was yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Has she called yet today?”
“Not yet. No.”
“So she’s already broken her promise.”
“Well, maybe. Or maybe not. The day’s not over with.”
“I don’t like it, Hannah. I don’t like it at all. I mean, she’s already lied to you once, when she said they were bringing the baby to you.”
“I know, honey. And I promise I’m suspicious too. But I have to accept the possibility she was lied to as well.
“And she came and left again without harming me, without kidnapping me, without arresting me. That leads me to believe she’s on the up and up.”
“Do you think you’re safe there alone? I can have Jeff come over and sleep on the couch until we get back.”
“No, don’t do that. We’ve inconvenienced him enough. If they had any intention of harming me they’d have already done it. They know you’re out of town and that I’m home alone. They haven’t done anything and I’m pretty sure they won’t.”
“Okay. I guess there’s no hurry in getting home with the photographs now. Any problem if we drive to Missouri first and pick up the Honda?”
“No. Go ahead. I’ll let you know if things change, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.
“Is Bud going to follow you back? I don’t know if we need him right now, if Rebecca is on the up and up. I mean, no sense in him wasting his time while we’re waiting for her to try to find the woman. She’s got better resources and knows more about her.
“And to be honest, I’ve been wondering how we’re going to pay his bill anyway. I mean, we probably owe him a zillion dollars already. We’ll probably be paying him for the rest of our lives.”
“I’ll tell you what, honey. Let me talk to Bud about it on the drive to Missouri. I’ll get his opinion on what the odds are that Rebecca’s playing us for fools.
“I’ll call you back after that and we can decide what to do, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And we’ll cross our fingers and hope Rebecca’s true to her word and calls you before the end of the day. If she does would you call me right away and let me know what she said?”
“Of course. I love you honey.”
“I love you too.”
Tony immediately called his best friend Jeff, who lived just a couple of miles from their house in Little Rock.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
“I need for you to do me a favor. I’m worried about Hannah. I want you to just go by there once or twice a day until I get back.”
“Anything going on I need to know about?”
“Probably not. I just want you to drop by occasionally to make sure she’s okay.”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“And you’re still licensed to carry a handgun, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do me a favor. Take it along. Just in case.”
Jeff was more than a friend. He was more like a brother.
He was once a competitor for Hannah’s affection. He had a big time crush on her when the three of them were in high school, and even told her in confidence he’d be willing to drop Tony as his best friend if she’d break up with him.
He later apologized to both of them for that.
And he eventually accepted that he and Hannah were never meant to be together, that she belonged to Tony. And he agreed to be the best man at their wedding.
“Hey,” he’d said as he toasted them at the reception. “If I’m the best man, how come she wound up with him? Doesn’t that make him second best?”
He was kidding, and got a round of laughter from the guests.
But everyone knew of his love for Hannah. And for Tony.
And going by once or twice a day wasn’t good enough.
Jeff was a frequent hunter and owned a pop-up camper he towed into the woods with him on his hunting trips.
It wasn’t big, but comfortable enough, and he parked it smack dab in front of Hannah and Tony’s house.
He called into his work and took four days off, and he’d be there, a hundred feet away from Hannah twenty four seven, just in case she needed him.
It’s what best friends do when they go the extra mile.
Chapter 40
Marilyn was at home in Toledo, in that she knew her way around and she knew how to get by there.
It could never be a real home, though, since it held too many bad memories for her. Too many ghosts from her past.
Too many reminders of how she screwed her life up.
There, on the corner of Hopkins and Main, was where she traded her dog for a fifth of vodka. That was back in the days when she thought alcohol solved all her problems, when in reality it just numbed her for awhile so she didn’t remember them.
She later found the dog dead in the street, hit by a car a couple blocks away.
There, on the park bench, was where she’d spent her first night on the streets. She’d slept on the bench until a passing cop nudged her awake and told her to get to a shelter before she froze to death.
She’d cursed at him and told her to go away. That maybe she wanted to die.
It wasn’t long after Jacob had died and she wanted to be with him.
She didn’t die that night, and she cursed God the next day for causing her such pain.
Down that alley was where she got her first fix of heroin.
She could still remember the warmth of the junk as it coursed through her veins. How it made the world go away and took the pain with it.
Like a sap, she thought the dealer was a wonderful guy for having shot her up.
Even wanted to show her appreciation by sleeping with him.
In reality he was merely giving her a free sample, hoping to create another junkie and repeat customer.
It’s one of the oldest and most tried and true methods of marketing for a dope dealer.
For the money, as all dealers know, is in the come-back.
That drug store up the street, that’s where she was busted the first time for shoplifting.
She was a sucker.
All she’d taken was four CDs.
They cost $11.95 apiece. And like an idiot she thought she’d score enough at the pawn shop for another hit of H.
She’d never been to a pawn shop before. Didn’t know how it worked.
When the clerk told her he’d go out on a limb and give her fifty cents apiece for them she got angry. She implied his mother was a female dog and threw the CDs at him.
She was banned from the store for life and the cops were called.
They asked her where she got the CDs and she told them to screw themselves.
They let her go when they got an active shooter call.
Yes, Marilyn knew Toledo well, but for all the wrong reasons.
She stumbled back to the motel room, already missing little Jacob the Second.
She tried to put him out of her mind.
She had work to do, and needed a clear head to do it right.
The cheap motel room had a tiny table and a single chair.
When Bob came by earlier with a bag of greasy burgers they had to pull the table over to the bed so he could sit on the mattress to eat.
She’d grumbled, for the tenth time, “What kind of cheap motel only has one chair?”
A cheap motel which caters to junkies and transients and others who spend most of their time lonely and alone.
She dumped her ware
s onto the table and took the shade off the tiny lamp to give her a bit more light.
Her hands were shaking a bit and she tried to steady them to no avail.
It wasn’t nerves, for she’d done this particular task a hundred times before.
It was what her father used to call the “alkie shakes.” He used to get them bad when he went more than a couple of hours without a shot of vodka.
God, she hated becoming like him. He was the worst kind of pond scum. But the shakes were only one of the bad traits he’d passed down to her.
She could alleviate them by taking a couple good swigs from the bottle of whisky in her backpack but she had to keep her head clear.
She needed to be stone cold sober later when she picked up Jacob, or the nuns would refuse to give him to her.
They’d call the cops instead and she’d be tossed into jail for PI: public intoxication.
The baby would be remanded to state custody and she likely wouldn’t be able to get him back without presenting his birth certificate.
Which meant she wouldn’t get him back at all.
Things would be so much easier when she got that paper on the baby.
Yes, the booze, as bad as she wanted it, would have to wait until she had Jacob again. Then she could drink just enough to take her to the edge, but not quite enough to hamper her ability to care for him.
Instead of a hit from the bottle she took a couple of deep breaths and hummed a song to herself.
It didn’t ease the shaking completely. But it was enough to get the job done.
She poured a small pile of rock salt onto the tiny table and used the handle of her hair brush to crush it.
Not completely.
Methamphetamines are worth more money when the shiny white powder is mixed with chunks, which the junkies call “shards.”
And crushed rock salt, especially in dim light, looks remarkably like crystal meth.
Especially when held in a dope bag which was tinted green.
She prepared ten such bags, each with about a gram of the phony drug.
The going rate for a gram of real meth in Toledo was about sixty bucks.
Dopers from out of town would be suspicious if offered a deal at the going rate. They’d expect to have to pay an extra markup to cover the dealer’s risk in selling to strangers.
The Yellowstone Event (Book 3): A Nation Gone Crazy Page 13
