Alex shook her head and breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the pickup. A group of young men were just rounding the far corner, rolling two tires. “Well, at least we still have our tires.”
Nobby glanced into the bed of the truck. “Except for the two I threw in the back. Figured it was easier to give them something to steal than wait for a tow truck in this neighborhood.”
Alex laughed, her ire completely gone. “I’ll have to remember that one. So, do we check out the DuPonts now?”
“Best to go back to the house, eat, call and make an appointment for later tonight after the media gets tired.” He started up the truck, which backfired loudly. “Better take your car for that neighborhood.”
Alex leafed through the file. “We could do the Martins. They’re only about thirty minutes away.”
“Martins it is then.”
Alex leaned back in the seat. The video and photo thing was actually brilliant. Maybe if she’d had that back home instead of just the few notes she’d been able to scribble without Jordan’s knowledge, she could have found something to help catch the bastard before it was too late. She looked at Nobby. She’d grown so used to him sitting on the porch it was hard to imagine him as an active officer. She enjoyed seeing this side of him, but he looked tired and his skin was an unhealthy shade of grey. Maybe she was pushing too hard. “I changed my mind. I think we should go home, and then I can finish the Martins and DuPonts.” He glared at her, and she smiled. “You could heat up that nice stew for us for dinner.”
“Can’t do it. Chief told me to stick with you like glue.” He chuckled. “Said you wasn’t safe out here on your own. Sure as hell don’t know you like I do. Figure you could wrestle a dang grizzly if you had to.”
“Why wouldn’t Chief Brown think I’m safe?”
“Didn’t say, and I didn’t ask him. Just said to watch your back.”
“Well, I have to eat. Wouldn’t that be watching my back? Besides, your pickup is going to stand out like a sore thumb in the Martins’ neighborhood. Probably get pulled over, and then what will we do? Chief said to keep it quiet.”
Nobby mumbled something under his breath, but Alex smiled when he took a right and headed home. “Guess you want me to watch your damn dog and cat while you’re gone, too.”
“That would be lovely.”
~ ~ ~
Alex parked in front of the two-story brick home of Ted and Wanda Martin then took a moment to study the neighborhood. The yards were small; the houses were within ten feet of each other. She was pretty sure the neighbors could hear each other’s toilets flush. So how did someone smash a window, climb in, and grab a baby without anyone hearing something? And why?
According to the data she had, Ted worked for a bank, making little more than minimum wage, and Wanda was a legal secretary. The two together made a decent living, but not enough to afford a large ransom.
The front door opened, and a man in his early thirties stepped out. His gaze locked with hers, and Alex exited the car. “Mr. Martin?”
“Can I help you?”
Alex flashed her badge and introduced herself, although she had the impression that Mr. Martin already knew who she was and why she was there. The question of how he knew was best left to be pondered later. “Detective Alex Fox. I’m with special investigations handling the disappearance of your baby. I’d like to ask you and Mrs. Martin a few questions if I could, please.”
He waved her in. “My wife is in the garden. It isn’t much, but she likes to sit there. I’ll go get her.”
“Could I see Jennifer’s room before you go?”
The question had the effect Alex had hoped for. Just as the mention of Priscilla’s name had shocked her into seeing the case differently, it momentarily shook Wilson’s calm, self-assured demeanor, which was beginning to get under her skin. He recovered quickly. Too quickly.
“Of course. It’s right down the hall.”
Alex stepped inside the room and took several pictures with her cell phone. The walls were a sunny yellow with a trail of giraffes and butterflies painted along the center. The crib, also outlined with butterflies, occupied the center of the inside wall. A matching dresser and chest took up the majority of the rest of the room with a huge rocker in the center. “Lovely.”
“We had the window replaced. I hope that was okay.”
“No problem. Where did you and Mrs. Martin sleep?”
“Our bedroom is upstairs. I can show you if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary. Was Jennifer’s door open last night?”
“It should have been, but when I came down this morning, it was closed. I’ll go get Wanda now. I hope this isn’t going to take much longer.”
“I don’t have children, Mr. Martin, but didn’t Jennifer wake up in the middle of the night hungry or needing to be changed?” Alex asked.
“I believe my wife fed her around two, Detective Fox. She may have accidentally closed the door when she came back to bed.”
Alex tarried a little longer, making a few notes. Her continued use of his daughter’s name was getting under Martin’s skin, and she wished Nobby were there to witness the man’s discomfort. She silently cursed Patterson again. Nothing would give her greater pleasure than to push Martin into the wall and make him come clean. “I think I have everything I need here.” She glanced up and gave him a smile. “Let’s go talk with your wife.”
“This way.” He led Alex back down the hallway, through the living room, into the kitchen, and out the back door. “My wife is very fragile at the moment, Detective Fox. She’s somewhat in denial. I’ll ask you to please be considerate.”
Alex stepped onto the back landing, her gaze taking in the figure seated in front of a row of freshly planted roses. “Why don’t you let her know I’m here?”
She watched them closely as Martin approached his wife and helped her to her feet, all the while talking to her softly. Mrs. Martin nodded, pulled off her gloves, and turned to smile and wave at Alex. Fragile was not the word that came to mind. There were no signs of tears or grief on the beautiful face, and if the woman had just given birth, she needed to tell everyone her secret to her figure. She approached Alex and held out her hand. “Thank you for coming, Detective Fox. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I just have a few questions, Mrs. Martin. We can talk here, or perhaps you’d like to sit down?”
“Oh, please call me Wanda. Mrs. Martin sounds so formal and old. We’ll sit in the kitchen. It’s always been my favorite room in the house. I love to bake. Do you bake, Detective Fox?”
“No, ma’am. I’m afraid I’m not much good in a kitchen. Left to my own devices, I tend to burn water,” she stated, trying to make light of her uselessness. Alex took a seat at the table and opened her notebook. “There are a few things that weren’t in the report, so I just wanted to make sure someone had asked you these questions. Can you think of anyone who would want to harm either of you?”
Mr. Martin placed his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Everyone has enemies somewhere, but no one comes to mind that would do something like this.”
“Have you noticed anyone hanging around the neighborhood who doesn’t belong here? Or perhaps someone who paid too much attention to the baby when you were shopping?”
“Nothing. We told the other officers all this,” Mr. Martin said.
“I made fresh banana bread this morning, Detective. Let me cut you a slice,” Mrs. Martin said.
Alex closed her notebook. Perhaps Martin was right, and his wife was in denial. She was desperate to ask a number of other questions, but Alex had an inkling she wasn’t going to get a response from Mrs. Martin with her husband standing right behind her. “Thank you, Mrs. Martin, but I’m afraid I have another appointment. Perhaps next time. Hopefully, we’ll have good news soon.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Mr. Martin said.
“Oh, I forgot to ask—do either you or Mrs. Martin know the DuPonts or the Wilso
ns?”
“I’ve met Ethan Wilson. I believe he did some work on our car once. I don’t really know him. DuPont’s law firm is above the bank I work in. I may have seen him, but we don’t know him.”
“How about your wife? Isn’t she a legal secretary?”
“My wife works for a very small law firm. The DuPonts are totally out of our social class, Detective Fox.”
Alex walked with him, other questions rolling inside her head. She made a mental picture of the rooms they passed through. Everything was spotless, and except for the baby’s room, there was no indication a child had ever been in the home.
“They’re asking the families to come together and do a press conference at nine in the morning. Do you think we should?” Mr. Martin asked.
“They can be helpful. Sometimes someone knows something or has heard something, and seeing the pain of the parents makes them come forward.”
Mr. Martin sighed. “Or it makes the kidnappers angry, right?”
Alex hesitated. Kidnapping and missing babies were new to her. She’d normally dealt with serial killers, whose interests were in torture, sexual abuse, and murder. “I don’t think it would hurt, Mr. Martin.”
“We’ve decided not to do it, but thank you again for coming, Detective Fox.”
CHAPTER SIX
Ted watched the car until it was out of sight, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing up.
“You didn’t tell her anything, did you?”
He closed the door and turned to pull his wife into a loving embrace. “No.”
Wanda smiled up at him. “It’s only a few days, darling. After that, we can move away and start over somewhere else.”
“What if something goes wrong? This woman said she was with special investigations.”
Wanda reached up and touched his face gently. “Nothing is going to go wrong. If she becomes a problem, someone will take care of her.” She turned away from him and headed back to the kitchen. “I looked at headstones and coffins. There are some really cute ones available. Once we get the money, we should take care of that before we leave. It wouldn’t be right not to let them know and leave her there.”
“I want her home, Wanda. And what do you mean by ‘someone will take care of her’?”
“Of course you do, sweetheart. So do I, but this is our one chance to get rid of them and get them out of our lives forever. And we’ll have other children. What we’re doing isn’t really a crime. It’s just a minor deception.” She licked her lips slowly. “And don’t worry about the detective, darling. Carissa has all that under control.”
The tension in his shoulders spread down his arms and into his fingers, which curled into fists. His gaze locked on the graceful lines of her throat.
“How did I do?” Wanda asked, pulling out a knife and slicing the banana bread.
“You were great. A perfect performance, as always.”
Her tiny pink tongue appeared again for just a moment and wet her lips as she turned and sashayed toward him. “See? I told you. Nothing is going to go wrong. Once the money is transferred, we’ll simply disappear into the night.”
Ted continued to stare at her lovely throat. It would be so easy. All he had to do was place his hands around it and squeeze.
~ ~ ~
Alex glanced at her watch. She still had three hours before her meeting with the DuPonts. Her stomach growled, and she turned toward home. A huge bowl of Nobby’s stew while she wrote out her notes sounded lovely.
Her cell phone rang, and she reached for it. “Hello.”
“Miss Fox?”
She recognized the deep tone of Nicholas DuPont’s voice from her earlier call. “Yes, this is Detective Alex Fox.”
“Nicholas DuPont. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel our meeting tonight. My wife is very ill, as I’m sure you can appreciate. You can meet me at my office in the morning at nine.”
“The press conference is at nine, Mr. DuPont.”
“My wife and I will not be participating in any press conferences. I’ll see you at nine in the morning, Miss Fox.”
The phone went silent, and Alex tossed it into the seat next to her. The meeting at nine definitely wasn’t going to go well. Nicholas DuPont came off as an egotistical bastard used to giving orders and having them followed. He’d actually emphasized the “Miss Fox” after she’d introduced herself.
Her stomach growled again, and Alex sped up. She was hungry, and needed to do some research on the DuPonts before she met with him. She rather hoped he didn’t like women in positions of power. Alex had some dicey questions for him.
The house came into view, and she smiled at the group waiting for her on the front porch. Nobby was seated in his favorite rocker with Cinders perched on his lap and Dixie lying at his feet. Dixie rose as the car pulled in and Alex parked. Cinders, on the other hand, gave her a disdainful look of boredom. He was perfectly content with his present accommodations.
Alex grabbed her file and notes then exited the car. “Let me change, and I’ll be right over.”
“Hot lasagna with garlic bread and mashed potatoes waiting.”
She glanced down at her pants suit, grinned, and changed directions. “Forget the change of clothes then. I’m starving.”
~ ~ ~
Nobby had an unspoken rule of no shop talk at the table, and for once Alex didn’t mind. She wanted his opinion on the Martins as well as her conversation with DuPont, but the lasagna and mashed potatoes had been too good to waste time talking.
“So what’d you find out?” Nobby asked as she pushed back her plate.
Alex passed him her notes and started to clear the table. “Tea or coffee?”
Nobby glanced up from the notepad. “Better make it coffee for me.”
She started a pot and pulled down two cups from the cupboard overhead. She didn’t particularly care for coffee but had taken to drinking a cup or two just to appease Americans who did. “DuPont cancelled our meeting tonight. Ordered me to meet him at his office in the morning at nine.”
Nobby chuckled. “And you took it?”
“He’s a right cockwomble if you ask me. Called me Miss Fox… twice. Even after I introduced myself as Detective Fox.”
“Cockwomble? That’s a new one on me.”
Alex returned to the table with two cups of steaming coffee. She would have said idiot if she’d been talking to anyone else, but Nobby enjoyed her accent and her British vocabulary. “Idiot.”
“Gonna have to add that one to my dictionary,” Nobby said, passing her notes back across the table. “What’s your gut say on this one?”
She sighed, flipping through her notes. “Nothing feels right, Nobby. Mr. Wilson was obviously devastated. He’s got the baby’s room locked up like some kind of shrine. They didn’t even change the bedding or fix the broken window. It really bothers me that no one has talked to Mrs. Wilson.” She sipped the coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste. “The Martins don’t appear to be grieving at all. He said his wife was in denial, but she was planting roses and actually offered me refreshments. Not one word about the baby.” She glanced at her notes. “And when I asked if there was anyone who might want to hurt them, he placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Sort of like a signal not to say anything. The Wilsons and Martins deny knowing each other personally, but I’m pretty sure Mr. Martin knew I was coming, and the only way he could have known that is if Ethan Wilson called him. And it’s rather odd that DuPont cancelled our meeting after I met with the other parents. He was all gung ho when I first talked with him, and now he’s making me meet him at his office.”
She took another sip of coffee. “And then there’s the press conference. I’m not sure Mr. Wilson knew about the press conference, but neither the Martins nor the DuPonts are willing to take part in one. Most parents are right on it, begging for the return of their child.”
“You need Blake Morgan.”
“Who’s Blake Morgan?” Alex asked.
“Best damn criminal
psychologist this state ever had. Man could look at a crime scene and tell you more about the person you were looking for than you could dig up in a month. Nobody better at getting inside their mind and telling you what makes them tick.”
“Great. Where can I find him?”
“Attica.”
“Attica?” Alex scowled. “That’s maximum security. I thought you said he was a criminal psychologist, not a criminal.”
Nobby pushed back his chair and stood. “Let’s go to the living room. These chairs are hard on an old man’s back.”
Alex followed him and took a seat on the sofa. “So why is the best criminal psychologist this state ever had in prison?”
He lit a cigar and puffed slowly. “Couple of gang members killed his wife. He tracked them, found them, and killed them.”
“Blimey.”
Nobby nodded. “Judge said law enforcement had to be held to a higher standard. Threw the book at him and gave him life in Attica.”
“Doesn’t seem quite right. Didn’t they take mental status into account? I mean, these guys killed his wife, right?”
He shook his head. “Wasn’t the killing exactly. It was the way he killed them. Judge said it wasn’t human and anybody that destroy another human being in that way was a danger to society.”
An image of Scarlet flashed through Alex’s mind: her beautiful brown eyes filled with pain, her lips parted in screams and begging to die. Nothing Blake Morgan could have done was any worse than what she wanted to do. She raised her head and met Nobby’s gaze.
“I thought you might understand. You did a good job for your first day, but you’re gonna need help. I’ll take care of rescheduling DuPont for you. Tell Blake that Matt Adams sent you.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alex arrived at the Attica Correctional Facility at eight o’clock in the morning. She’d managed to make the six-hour drive in under five, thanks to the lightness of early morning traffic. Alex exited the car, dialed the number Nobby had given her, announced her arrival to the guard that answered, and stored her cell phone in the glove box before locking the car. She felt uncomfortable in the three-piece suit she’d chosen for the visit and would have preferred her uniform, but visitation rules prohibited it, along with makeup or any apparel that could be seen as overly feminine.
Tragic Deception (Deception Series Book 1) Page 3
