by M. Z. Kelly
My canine partner was part German Shepherd, and part some unknown breed. He practically knocked me over as he greeted me. That caused Otto to check on us, followed by Natalie and Mo, who also came downstairs.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to wake you all up.”
“Is your mum okay?” Natalie asked. She was wearing red pajamas that read Bitch Baby.
Mo, who had on a lacy white nightgown, added, “Robin told us she had a stroke.”
“Yes, but it’s too soon to know anything about her condition,” I said. “She’s resting, so we plan to go by and see her again later.”
“I’m so terribly sorry to hear about your mother,” Otto said. “May I get you something? A nightcap, perhaps?”
Our butler was around fifty, bald, with a rotund body. He was wearing slacks and a coat, making me wonder if he ever slept.
Natalie had quickly made it a habit of using our manservant to her fullest advantage. “Bring us a batch of them Midnight Maulers I showed you how to make, Otto.” She looked at me. “They’ll put you out faster than a mugger on Sunset.”
“Thanks, but I feel like I’ve been mugged already.”
Despite my protests, they insisted on the drinks. I finally relented, joining them and Bernie on the atrium adjacent to the family room that overlooked the back yard. After some chit chat, they mentioned my work with the feds.
“We heard you been workin’ that Angel case,” Natalie said. “Mo and me got us a theory about what motivates him.”
It wasn’t unusual for my friends to have theories about my cases, and everything else in the known universe, for that matter.
I was about to respond when Mo spoke up. “Baby sis and me saw the video of him and what he did to that girl. We think he’s a nutter.”
I laughed. “You’d be right about that.”
“Mo means we think he escaped from a nuthouse.” Natalie waved to Otto, who was in the doorway with drinks, and went on. “He put the letter c in crazy.”
“I can’t disagree, but we have nothing to show that he escaped from a hospital.”
They went on about their theory as we each took a drink from Otto’s tray. As we sipped our cocktails, Mo added, “Just keep what we said in mind. Baby sis and me got a sixth sense ‘bout killers, and we think this guy is the biggest cuckoo in the clock.”
“Are you and Joe workin’ the case together?” Natalie asked after sipping her drink.
“He’s working somewhere down south, so it’s just me, Olivia, and a group of FBI agents and profilers.”
“Too bad. We was thinkin’ you and GI Joe might finally copulate, if you get me drift.”
“You gonna spend the rest of your life celibate?” Mo asked after gulping half her drink. “You been out of circulation longer than a short dick in a porn flick.”
I sighed, already feeling the effects of my Mauler. “I’m in no hurry. Besides, lately I’m feeling like I’m meant to be single.”
Mo looked at Natalie. “This is soundin’ like a serious case of vagina monologue.”
“That’s a medical condition, in case you’re wonderin’,” Natalie said to me. “It means your vajayjay is so lonely, it’s startin’ to talk to itself.” She cut her hazel eyes back to Mo. “Maybe she needs a consultation with Dr. Doris.” She looked back at me. “Tex has invented a new program that makes Dr. D smarter than ever.”
I yawned. “I’ll keep it in mind. I’m just glad I’m no longer the model for your virtual sex therapist.”
“Speaking of therapy,” Mo said. “Nana came by today and said she’s raisin’ money for Kids In Crisis. It’s a counseling program for kids that are trying to get off drugs.”
Nana was our rich former landlord, thanks to inheriting a boatload of money from a husband who died at the altar. “That’s a good thing. I’m glad she’s finally doing something productive with her time.”
Natalie downed the last of her Mauler and called out to Otto for another. “Speakin’ of bein’ productive, she wants us to help her with a fundraiser for the program.”
“I’m happy to help, since it’s for a good cause.”
Mo had also finished her drink. “That’s good, ‘cause me and baby sis already signed us all up.”
“What are our duties?”
Mo looked at Natalie and smiled. “We’ll give you all the details as soon as they’re worked out.”
I was suspicious, given some of their past antics, and started to ask them exactly what Nana had in mind, when Natalie changed the subject, asking about Daniel and the Rylands.
“There’s nothing new with Harlee or her grandfather, and, as far as I know, Pearl is still missing. As for Daniel, Mom started to say something about him tonight when I saw her, but she fell asleep. I’ve got a feeling she might have been looking for his adoptive mother.”
“Maybe she feels guilty ‘bout keepin’ another secret from you. You need to lean on her, find out exactly what she knows.”
“She’s not exactly in a position to be leaned on, but I’ll try to find out what’s been going on when I see her.” I stood. “I think I’m going to call it a night. It’s been a long couple days.”
“One more thing,” Natalie said, also rising. “That situation with Jimmy’s worse than we thought. He’s still missin’, and word on the street is that Lucky Scarfo mighta put a hit on him. Myrna’s lost the plot and is about to go cra-cra.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
Mo answered. “She’s going nuts. We’re worried she might try to go after Lucky. If that happens, all hell’s gonna break lose.”
I exhaled. “Let me talk to Leo tomorrow about what’s going on. Maybe he’s got some ideas. You might also need to file a police report about Jimmy going missing.”
“In the meantime, since our boss has gone missin’ and we don’t got any work, me and Mo will poke ‘round for you, see if we can find out where that Daniel bloke is.”
I looked back at them when I got to the stairs. “Maybe you should let me handle things.”
Natalie looked at Mo. “She doesn’t trust us.”
Mo’s wide forehead crinkled up. “Don’t you think we know what we’re doing after all the cases we worked for you?”
“Of course I do, it’s just that...” I sighed, knowing it was useless to argue, and they were getting upset. “Just let me know what you find out.”
After getting ready for bed, despite my exhaustion, I had trouble sleeping. My thoughts skittered from the Angel, to my mother, even to Jimmy Sweets, and then finally to what Mo had said about me not being in a relationship.
As sleep finally tugged at my consciousness, I had a thought that maybe it was always meant to be this way. I would spend the rest of my life alone, forever searching for a relationship that simply wasn’t meant to be.
For some reason, my thoughts drifted to a scene from that old movie Serendipity, with Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack. After spending what seemed like forever trying to reconnect with one another, the Cusack character goes to a skating rink in New York City, where he and Kate had once skated. He looks up at the sky as snowflakes drift down. Then, magically, he sees a glove coming down, the same glove that had bonded him and Kate years earlier, in the first scene of the movie.
You can guess the rest of the story, even if you haven’t seen the movie. The characters that were fated to be together reconnected and lived happily ever after. As darkness found me, one final thought drifted through my mind: if only life could be that way.
Then reality settled in, sleep finally found me, and I was once again alone in the world.
NINE
“Your mother suffered a mild stroke,” Mom’s doctor told Robin and me at the hospital that afternoon, after I’d gotten a few hours’ sleep. “Luckily, she came to the ER right away and was given tPA. It’s a drug that, if given early, dissolves blood clots. In your mom’s case, it may have saved her life and prevented any serious damage.”
“Will she be released from the hospita
l soon?” Robin asked.
“Probably in a day or two. She can go home, but she’ll need some follow-up physical therapy.”
After the doctor was gone, as we walked to Mom’s room, I said to Robin, “I got a call from the feds. They want me back in Quantico tonight. I’m not sure what to do.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be around for Mom and I’ll make sure she gets to and from PT.”
We stopped at her door. “You sure?”
“You go chase killers, and I’ll babysit mom.” He smiled. “It’s what we do.”
I also smiled. “Why is it that I think you’ve got the harder job?”
We found Mom awake and sitting up in bed. She looked tired, but was happy to see us.
“How are you feeling?” Robin asked.
“Better. I’m having a little trouble walking. I guess I’m going to need some therapy.”
“The doctor said you should be going home in a day or two,” I said. “Robin will make sure you get to your therapy sessions.”
She nodded. “Amanda. Does she know what happened?”
Amanda was our sister, someone who was married to a wealthy snob, resulting in us being estranged. I’d thought about calling her, but hadn’t followed through. Given her history, I doubted that she would care about Mom.
Robin answered. “I called her this morning. She said she plans to call you later today.”
After a nurse came in and checked Mom’s vitals, and we engaged in some more chit-chat, I asked Mom about what she’d said last night. “You mentioned something about Daniel and his mother.”
“I did?”
I nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you were talking about his birth mother or his adoptive mother.”
“I think she’s living in Santa Monica—his adoptive mother. Her name is Ann Reston. I found something on the Internet about her.”
“Did you get an address?”
She shook her head. I asked her some follow-up questions, but got nothing more.
After we told Mom we’d check on her later, we said our goodbyes, and left her room. I asked Robin for his thoughts on what she’d said about Daniel’s mother. “I wonder why Mom was able to find her on the Internet, when my friend Molly couldn’t find anything.”
“Maybe it’s another Ann Reston that Mom found. It’s probably a pretty common name.”
“Maybe. I think I’ll stop by the station and ask Molly to do some more checking.”
When we got to our cars, I again thanked Robin for taking the lead in caring for Mom. I then asked him about Amanda. “Do you think she’s really going to call?”
He sighed. “She’s on a friend’s yacht, somewhere near Monaco. Even though I had no trouble reaching her, she said something about poor reception.”
“It sounds like our rich sister has other priorities.”
He smiled. “Some things never change.”
***
I got to Hollywood Station a little after two and found Molly at her workstation. She agreed to take a break and go for a walk with me.
My friend was a crime analyst, in her thirties, the single mother of two small children. She was pretty, with shoulder-length auburn hair and green eyes, like mine. After she asked about Mom’s condition and I filled her in, she mentioned the Angel.
“The case is as bad as anything I’ve encountered,” I said. “I’m supposed to go back to Quantico tonight. Before I leave, I wanted to ask you about something my mom said about my brother, Daniel. She told me that she found his adoptive mother, Ann Reston, on the Internet. She said she’s living in Santa Monica. I was a little surprised, since I know you did some research on her and came up empty.”
“I was going to call you about her, but knew you were busy with your case. I did a little more digging, and your mom’s right. Ann Reston remarried, changed her name, and is now going by Anabelle Wakefield.”
“Wouldn’t her prior name normally come up during an Internet search?”
“Yes. It looks like she, or someone else, went to great pains to get her past history erased. I only realized she was Ann Reston because I found some old public records that hadn’t been modified.”
We stopped walking, and I met her eyes. “It all seems strange to me. My mother’s not someone who’s tech savvy. I don’t understand how she found her.”
“It doesn’t add up for me, either. It took me a couple hours and a deep search to find her.”
I huffed out a breath in frustration, again thinking Mom had been hiding things from me. “What do we know about Anabelle Wakefield?”
“Her husband owns a factory in Long Beach. It’s a sheet metal plant that specializes in parts for airplanes. They’re wealthy and live in NOMA.” She handed over a slip of paper with an address.
“I’m not familiar with this area.”
“It’s an enclave of multi-million dollar homes they refer to as ‘North of Montana Avenue’ or ‘NOMA’. It’s how the other half lives.”
I smiled. “Someday, I’d like to be the other half, if only for a few days.”
I thanked Molly for her help, then ran into Leo when I got back to the stationhouse. He said he was between cases, and asked me out for coffee. My former partner was African-American; a big man in his late fifties, with broad shoulders and a shaved head. While he was physically imposing, he had a heart of gold, doting over a couple granddaughters who took up most of his spare time.
After settling in at a Starbucks a couple blocks from the station and chatting about my federal case, I asked him about our new lieutenant. “Is Harry Byrd as bad as everyone says?”
His perpetual smile widened, and he tugged on an ear. “The jury’s still out, but let’s just say that he might be the kind of boss that makes retirement look better than ever.”
“Don’t tell me, you’re thinking of pulling the plug?”
He exhaled. “Thinking would be the operative word. We’ll see how things go when you and Olivia get back. Maybe having a couple of women in the squad will mellow him out.”
I laughed. “From what I’ve heard he’s an equal opportunity hater. How are things working out with you and Woody?”
Leo’s new partner, Woody Horton, was about thirty years younger than him, but was as hard working and dedicated as any cop I’d ever met.
“They’re good, but he’s going to Harbor Division.”
“Why is that?”
“He requested the move. Something to do with it being closer to where he lives.”
“What about a replacement?”
“Not sure yet, but I have a feeling Bronson will be in the loop on whoever comes our way.”
“Our new chief wants to keep an eye on us.”
“So it would seem.”
I moved the conversation in a different direction, telling him what my friends had said about Jimmy Sweets. “They think he’s gone missing because he dug up some dirt on Lucky Scarfo.”
“The mobster?”
“Yeah, and from what Natalie said, Jimmy’s wife, Myrna, is on the warpath and has it out for Lucky. Jimmy’s a lowlife, but I was hoping you could put some feelers out about him and tell SEU what’s going on.”
SEU was the department’s Special Enforcement Unit, which dealt with gang issues. Scarfo was known to the department for his ties to organized crime, and had prior convictions for drug dealing.
“I’ll make it happen as soon as I get back to the station.”
I thanked him, then asked if he’d heard anything about Pearl.
“Nothing, but Joe and I exchanged texts. He still thinks he left Brazil on a fishing boat, to get away from the Rylands, and is lying low, so I’m hoping he surfaces before too long.”
“It’s good that you and Joe are keeping in touch.”
He studied me for a moment. “I take it things have cooled between you two.”
I smiled. “They were never that hot, but, yes, I made it clear I don’t think our professions make us a good match. I don’t think he was happy about it.”
He n
odded, but otherwise didn’t respond.
I sipped my coffee, then asked, “Has Joe mentioned anything to you about the Rylands?”
“Actually, yes. They think they’re still in Brazil, and are getting closer to finding them. As you know, since the bombings, every law enforcement agency in the world is after them.”
“The city’s still on edge, I take it?”
“There’s been some unrest since the bombings, a couple of incidents of looting. I think some of it is fallout from what happened. Everyone’s still pretty worked up.”
“Let’s hope the Rylands are caught, and things settle down.” I then mentioned Daniel, telling him what my mother and Molly had found out about his adoptive mother. “She’s remarried and now goes by the name Anabelle Wakefield.” I handed over the address Molly had given me. “I was wondering, if you’re in the neighborhood one of these days, you could stop by and ask her what she knows about him.”
He glanced at the address, then put the paper in his pocket. “Consider it done.”
TEN
I got to Quantico at midnight. I went directly to my barracks, falling into bed and not waking up until the alarm on my phone sounded at seven the next morning. After dressing, I met up with Olivia in the cafeteria, where, over coffee and a bagel, I updated her on my mother’s condition and told her about seeing Leo.
“Leo said Woody is transferring to Harbor Division, so he can be closer to home. There’s no word on his replacement yet.”
“I have some inside sources and heard a rumor.”
“I’m almost afraid to hear this.”
“Richard Hurd is coming to Hollywood Station.”
“Bronson’s nephew?”
She nodded. “One and the same.”
I sighed. “You ask me, he’s being reassigned so that he can spy on us.”
“Remember what I said before about us getting the bird? From what I heard, Richard’s got a moniker that rhymes with his last name.”
“Richard the Turd.” I chuckled. “What could be more appropriate?”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“Working with the feds is sounding better and better. So, what’s the latest with the Angel?”
