“Jack,” she said wearily, “I don’t want to talk now. I’m exhausted. I just want to go home and be with my son.”
She walked away toward her car without looking back.
Keller stood and watched her go. Healy came and stood beside him.
“Just let her rest, Keller,” she said. “She’ll come around.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Keller asked.
“Then look me up,” she said. “I’m in the book.” At Keller’s look, her smile vanished. “Joking,” she said. “Sorry.”
Keller looked over her shoulder. “They’re back,” he said.
She glanced behind her. A nondescript rental car was parked across the street. “Those same people that were tailing you the other night?” she said.
He shook his head. “Different car. And this is only one person.” As he spoke the car started up and began pulling away. Keller caught a glimpse of a lean, hard face below a military-style short haircut. Then the car was gone.
“Jesus,” Healy said. “What the hell are they trying to accomplish?”
“I don’t think that was the FBI,” he said. “That guy looked military.”
“Wonderful,” Healy said. “I’ll call Wilcox tomorrow and let him know if he keeps harassing me, he’ll be hearing from the judge again. And that includes harassing my people.”
Keller cocked an eyebrow at her. “Your people?”
She grinned. “We’re all in this together, Jack,” she said. “One big happy family.”
***
When the brown-haired woman’s car pulled away, DeGroot had to make a choice. Stay with the lawyer or follow the employee. When the blond man had noticed his presence, the choice was made. The traffic impeded her enough so that he was able to catch up. He followed her until she turned into a quiet residential neighborhood. The traffic there was lighter, and DeGroot feared she’d notice him, so he broke off and turned the other way.
After a short interval he headed back. It took about a half hour, but he eventually spotted the car parked in a driveway. There was a mailbox at the end of the driveway, marked “M. Jones.” There was a scattering of children’s toys in the front yard. He made a mental note of the address. He felt a lifting of the gloom that had clamped down on him earlier. He thought about the plaque he had seen in the clerk’s office: When God closes a door, sometimes he opens a window. It had been a long time since he believed in God. But he did have to admit, new opportunities seemed to be opening up every moment. He slowed for a moment to observe the place, his experienced eye checking for routes of ingress and egress. It was then that he noticed the police car coming down the street, followed by a large pickup truck. He slowed for a moment, watching as the vehicles pulled in to the driveway of the house he had just been watching. Then he accelerated away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Keller pulled up to the house, he wasn’t able to park in the driveway. There was no room. There was a red, new-looking pickup parked in the second space, and a police car parked behind it, its rear end partially in the street. Keller parked on the street across from the house and got out slowly. He could hear the sound of raised voices as he approached the open door. A uniformed patrolman came out. He looked unhappy. He was followed by a man, in blue jeans and a red T-shirt, who was holding Ben in his arms. The boy was silent, but his eyes were wide and he had his thumb stuck in his mouth. Keller couldn’t remember ever seeing Ben suck his thumb before. Marie came last. Her eyes were red and tears streaked her cheeks.
Keller stopped. “What’s going on?” he said.
The man holding Ben looked over at Keller. His eyes hardened. He was short and broad. He wore his dark hair in a short military-style brush cut. His face was square, with a slight dimple in the chin.
“This ain’t none o’ your business,” he said.
“Who the fuck are you?” Keller demanded.
“Easy, sir,” the officer interjected.
“I’ll take it easy when I find out—”
“No, sir,” the officer said, reaching down to the container of Mace on his belt. “You’ll take it easy now. Back up, and leave this—”
“I got a court order,” the man broke in, to the annoyance of the officer. “So you just back off.” He carried Ben to the truck and opened the door. There was a car seat in the back of the King Cab.
Keller looked at Marie. She was watching the man strap her son into the car seat. She looked shattered.
“Marie?” he said.
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She tried to speak, but choked on the words. The man finished tightening the belts and closed the door. He turned to Keller.
“You must be the guy she’s been fucking,” he said. “Take her back inside for a quick one. That usually makes her forget about our son.”
Keller started for him, but the officer interposed himself firmly. “Get in the truck, Mr. Forrest,” he said over his shoulder. He turned back to Keller. “And you, sir,” he said, “you just—”
Keller ignored him. He turned away and went to Marie, who was standing on the porch. He tried to take her in his arms, but she shook her head. “Not here,” she said. “Not now.” She stumbled back through the door. Keller heard the truck’s engine start as he followed her.
There was a thick sheaf of papers lying on the table next to the door. The page on top was yellow and bore the title “Civil Summons.” Bold black letters announced that “a civil action has been commenced against you.” The sound of Marie’s weeping came from the bedroom. He wanted to go to her, but the way she had pushed him away made him stop. He thumbed through the papers instead. Through the fog of legalese, phrases snarled out at him. “Unstable lifestyle.” “Association with violent individuals.” “Immediate and imminent risk to the minor child of abuse and neglect.” The final page was a “Temporary Emergency Custody Order” giving custody of “the minor child” to his natural father, Carson Treadwell Forrest. A hearing was set for the following Monday. Keller went into the bedroom. Marie was facedown on the bed, her head resting on her arms.
He sat down on the bed next to her. He reached out and stroked her hair gently. “I’m sorry,” was all he could think of to say.
She rolled over and sat up. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “He never did anything but threaten before.” She shook her head, her grief turning to anger. “I can’t believe he’d lie like that, though.”
“It’s not all lies,” Keller said.
“What do you mean?” she said, her face hardening.
“What he said about me,” Keller said. “He’s right. I haven’t brought you anything but trouble since we met.”
She smiled a little then. “Well, I wouldn’t say that’s all you’ve brought me.”
He stood up. “Thanks,” he said, “but you know I’m right. I get into bad situations. And I drag you into them. And one of these days, Ben’s going to get dragged into it, too.”
“Jack,” she said, “bad stuff happens to people. That’s not going to stop happening if you leave. It’s not going to make us any safer.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but at least I won’t be the one dragging the bad stuff to your doorstep.”
“So you’re walking out?” she demanded. “When I need you the most?”
“You need Ben more than you need me,” he said. “And if I’m around, you probably won’t get him back.” He walked to the door.
“Damn it, Jack,” she said. “I won’t leave you because my ex can’t handle the idea of us being together.”
“I know you won’t,” he said. “So that’s why I’m the one pulling the plug.”
They looked at each other in silence for a few moments. The buzzing of Keller’s cell phone sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet. He pulled it off his belt, looked at the caller ID, then at Marie. “It’s Tammy Healy,” he said. He flipped the phone open.
“Keller,” he said.
“Jack,” she said, “are you still in town?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’m at Marie’s.” He looked at Marie. “Her ex just came in here with an emergency court order and took her son.”
There was a moment’s pause. “Damn,” Healy said, “Everything always happens at goddamn once.” She sighed. “Okay,” she said. “Does she want an appointment this afternoon?”
Keller pulled the phone away from his ear. “You want to see Tammy Healy this afternoon?” Marie looked doubtful. “You’re going to need a lawyer to fight this,” Keller said. “Even I’m not stupid enough to walk into a courtroom armed with nothing but the truth.”
Marie nodded. “Okay.”
“Yeah,” Keller said into the phone.
“Fine,” Healy said. “And I need to see you, too. Something’s happened in the Fedder case.”
“What?” Keller said.
“I’ll talk to you when you get here,” Healy said. “One hour.” She hung up.
“She’ll see us in an hour,” Keller said.
Marie looked puzzled. “Us?” she said.
“She wanted to see me, too,” he told her. “Something about the Fedder case.”
“I thought she was off that,” Marie said.
“She said something had happened.”
“If it was something that made her drop everything so she could see you in an hour,” Marie said, “it must be something major.”
***
A few blocks away, DeGroot sat in his car at the curb, watching the big pickup truck go past. He caught a glimpse of a child’s blond head in the passenger seat. He had circled the block after watching the truck pull in. No one had noticed him because of the argument going on in the yard. He had pulled away and parked a short distance up the street.
I scheme poor old Lundgren isn’t the only one with family problems, he thought. He pulled out and followed the truck, keeping a discreet distance. The truck wound its way through the residential streets, onto the main drag. Eventually, it turned into the parking lot of a Motel 6. DeGroot made a note of the room they stopped in front of before he exited the parking lot. He looked down, noticed the gas gauge. Nearly empty. He found a gas station and pulled up to the pump. As he filled the tank of the rental, he thought over what he had seen.
The big blond fellow and the woman with the child—Jones—work for the lawyer, he thought. The blond fellow and Jones are involved somehow. Maybe that’s why the other man took the child? A jealous husband? But why didn’t he leave? Puzzling. But, he decided, not what I came here to find out. I need to know what was going on with Lundgren. It has something to do with his child. And the one who knows that is…The gas pumped clunked and shut off. The lawyer. He slotted the nozzle back into its holder and waited for the credit card receipt. Time to pay a visit to the lawyer.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Thanks, Cindy,” Tamara Healy said to the young blond behind the desk as she came out of her office. “I’ll see Mr. Keller first. Marie, would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?”
Marie shook her head wordlessly. She still had a look of devastation on her face. Healy walked over and crouched beside her chair. “It’s going to be okay, hon,” she said softly, taking Marie’s hand. “We’re going to do everything we can for you.”
Marie nodded, still not speaking. Keller followed Healy as she stood up and walked into her office. She seated herself behind a large, expensive-looking oak desk and motioned Keller to an equally expensive-looking chair. She spoke before he was fully seated.
“I’ve gotten a call regarding Alyssa Fedder,” she said.
“From who?” Keller asked.
“The people that have her,” Healy said tonelessly.
Keller rubbed his chin. “You call the cops?”
She shook her head. “They made it very clear I was not to do that. They said they’d know if I did and no one would ever see Alyssa Fedder again.”
“So,” Keller said, “why tell me?” He was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy about the answer.
“They want to turn the girl back over to me. They gave me directions to a place near where they say they have her. It’s in the mountains.”
“So go,” Keller said. “Or take your chances, call the cops and let them go.”
She shook her head again. “I’m not stupid, Jack. I’m not going up there by myself, in the middle of nowhere, with men I’ve never seen. I’ve been called a lot of things, most of them ending in ‘bitch’, but I don’t think anyone thinks I’m that crazy.” She picked up a pack of cigarettes. Her hands trembled as she took one out and lit it. She offered the pack to Keller. He thought for a moment, then took it.
“I’ve been trying to quit,” she said.
“Probably a good idea.”
“So?” She took a long drag on the cigarette.
“I’ll go,” he said. “That’s what you’ve been leading up to, right?”
She nodded, looking surprised. “I thought I’d have to talk you into it.”
“There’s a condition,” he said.
She blew out a long stream of smoke and grinned at him. “If it’s sexual favors, honey, you had me at hello.”
“Thanks,” he said, “I’ll keep it in mind. But it’s about Marie.”
She turned serious. “You want me to take her case. For free?”
“No,” he said. “She’ll figure that out and she’ll never accept it. But she’s practically broke. Keep the price low, and let her pay it off over time. She’ll do it.”
“I know she will,” Healy said. “You’d do this for her?”
“Yeah,” Keller said.
Her smile this time was wistful. “Why couldn’t I have met you fifteen years ago?”
“Because I was a complete head case,” Keller said. “And I wouldn’t lay odds that I’m not headed that way again. Now, how are we going to keep these guys from knowing I’m there?”
“They know you’re coming,” she said. “I told them I was scared to come alone. I wanted someone with me. I brought up your name, and they said okay. Seems they know you from TV.”
Keller grimaced. “Great,” he said.
“Well, they know for sure you’re not a cop. And they know your face.”
He rubbed his chin. “No way are these guys professional criminals,” he said. “Pros would never agree to something like that. I figure it’s Lundgren’s buddies. Powell and Riggio. Lundgren took the girl and left her with them. Now Lundgren’s dead, they want to get rid of her. Fast.” He looked back at Healy. “He’s their buddy’s daughter,” he said. “I don’t think they’re going to hurt her. Or you.”
“I want you there anyway,” she said. “If I bring the cops, they might run. I need to get that little girl back.”
“Does Carly Fedder know what you’re doing for her?” Keller asked.
“Not all of it,” she said. “She just knows I’m working on something. She’s sitting tight. She won’t go to the cops.”
“And when you get the girl back,” Keller said, “you’re going to hand her over to her mother.” His voice was expressionless.
“Yeah,” Healy said. “I am. Because that’s the only choice, Jack. Her father’s dead. Who else do you suggest giving her to?”
“I’m just saying,” Keller said, “You need to keep an eye on your client. Otherwise…” He stopped.
There was a pause. “Otherwise what?” Healy said.
Keller took a deep breath. “Otherwise that kid could end up like me,” he said.
“There are worse things to be,” Healy said gently.
“Maybe,” he said, “but I wouldn’t want to meet any.” He stood up. “Can I send Marie in?” he said.
She stood up and took a folded piece of paper out of her desk drawer. “These are the directions to the meeting,” she said. It’s at seven p.m. tomorrow, but it’s a long drive. Get some sleep and meet me here at noon.”
“Okay,” he said. See you then.”
As Keller reached the door, she spoke again. “You know, Jack,” she said, “she’s lucky to have you.”
&nbs
p; “No, she isn’t,” Keller said. “I’ve cost her her kid. And if I keep seeing her, that’s going to be permanent. So I need to step out of the picture.”
“You care about her that much?” Healy said.
“Yeah,” Keller replied.
“That’s what I mean,” she said. “Lucky.” She sighed. “Send her in.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Working late, DeGroot thought. The law-office parking lot was mostly deserted, with only one car left.
DeGroot had watched as the staff filtered out and went home. He hadn’t seen the Healy woman leave, so it was a safe bet that the office light burning in the window was hers. You have to admire that kind of dedication, he thought. He parked in the tiny gravel lot behind the old house and got out. He had changed into a nondescript workman’s coverall, blue ball cap pulled down over his eyes. He opened the trunk and pulled out a large toolbox.
DeGroot had bought the coverall and the box at a Home Depot, but most of the tools inside were his own. The gravel crunched under his feet as he affected a weary trudge toward the back door, like a repairman called out late and unhappy about it.
***
“That little shit,” Tamara Healy muttered as she read over the court papers one more time. “Abuse and neglect, my ass.”
She knew the lawyer on the other side. He’d say exactly what he needed to say to get the emergency custody order, and allegations of abuse were the biggest trump card of all. No judge would turn down a request for an order if there was a chance of actual abuse; no judge would take the risk involved. It had become depressingly routine for lawyers to throw in abuse allegations, and then, once the complaining parent had actual physical possession of the child, to dismiss them before being called on to prove them. At that point, the lawyer’s argument would simply be that the plaintiff was the better parent, as shown by the fact that the child (who was suddenly the total center of attention) was healthy and happy in the plaintiff’s care. And it didn’t hurt that, by the time of the hearing, the parent from whom the child was snatched would usually be an emotional wreck, liable to blurt out anything on the stand. Marie Jones was no exception.
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