Tragic Deception (Deception Series Book 1)

by Linda S. Prather

  “You don’t think they were kidnapped?” Sams asked.

  “Too early to tell.” Blake read a few more lines. “The parents are a different story, though. The DuPonts live in a ritzy neighborhood and have a six-figure salary. Kidnapping their child took either a vast amount of planning or was an inside job. The Martins are middle class, and the Wilsons are dirt poor. No money in either of those for ransom, and in most cases, the kidnapping of children is predominantly to obtain a ransom.”

  “Would you like some coffee?”

  Blake frowned. “Sure.”

  Sams turned his chair, grabbed the pot, and poured two cups. “Anything in it?”

  “Black is fine.”

  Sams passed him the cup. “I find myself somewhat in the same position as you, Morgan. I’m in a job that provides a certain amount of frustration but also a lot of boredom and day-to-day menial tasks, not a lot of mental stimulation. My guards are great guys, but not the best conversationalists.”

  Blake studied the warden over the rim of his cup. “So you’d like to work this case with me?”

  Sams smiled. “I’d like to bounce ideas back and forth. Be a part of the chase for a change, and not just play a role in the endgame.”

  “You’ve read the reports. What do you think?” Blake asked.

  Sams turned the computer around and glanced at the screen. “I think you’re right—it doesn’t appear to be about money for at least two of them. Although, it could be black-market sales or private adoptions. Private adoptions usually bring in more money.” He sipped his coffee and continued to stare at the screen. “The disparity between the parties bothers me, though. Especially the Wilsons, as there’s definitely no money there, and they clearly wouldn’t run in the same circles as either the Martins or the DuPonts. And the Martins might be able to raise a small ransom but nothing that would be worth the trouble they’re going to. I would definitely rule out ransom as a motive for those two.”

  “So you think we’re looking at black-market sales or private adoptions?” Blake asked.

  “Not really. You see, that’s rather bothersome, too. If I were dealing in baby sales, I might steal the Wilson baby and maybe even the Martin baby, but I wouldn’t have gone after the DuPont baby. Creates far too much of a fuss from the public officials and the media.”

  Blake sat his cup on the desk. Sams had literally hit the nail on the head of what had kept him awake all night. “So either we have separate cases, one for money and two for other purposes, or there’s a third possibility.”

  Sams frowned and stared at the screen. “I’m not seeing a third possibility.”

  Blake pointed at the description of the children. “All three girls, all three Caucasian and all with blue eyes. Someone lost a child, and they’re willing to pay big bucks for a replacement. The thieves chose the three closest to the description they’d been given.”

  Sams sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his thinning grey hair. “So what happens to the two they don’t choose?”

  Blake met his gaze across the desk. “I think you already know the answer to that, Warden.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Alex knocked on Nobby’s door, juggling a plastic cup in one hand and a paper plate in the other. She was fifteen minutes early, but it would probably take that long to convince him to drink the juice and eat the special sandwich she’d prepared. If he wouldn’t take the traditional treatments, then he was at least going to take the alternatives. She gently kicked the door again.

  “Keep your knickers on,” Nobby called out. “I’m coming.” He opened the door and glared at her. “I said nine o’clock.”

  Alex pushed past him and headed toward the dining room. “I thought Americans said keep your panties on, not knickers.”

  “Yeah, well, you ain’t American.”

  She placed the juice and plate on the table. “You look ready to me. So drink your juice and eat your sandwich, and we’ll be on our way.”

  Nobby eyed it suspiciously. “What the bloody hell is it?”

  Alex couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. As much as Patterson hated the way she talked, Nobby had taken to using her words when he was upset. “Juice and lean turkey with broccoli sprouts.”

  He picked up the glass, sniffed it, and placed it back on the table. “Smells and looks like somebody done drunk it once and chucked it back up.” He lifted the slice of bread, glanced at the green sprouts, and scowled. “Done had my breakfast.”

  Alex placed her hands on her hips. “I spent half the night researching colon cancer, and both of those are natural cancer-fighting agents. Either you drink the juice and eat the sandwich, or you’re not going with me. I’ll call the chief and tell him I quit.”

  Nobby pulled out a chair, flopped into it, and picked up the sandwich. “Never had grass for breakfast before.” He took a bite, grimaced, and reached for the juice. “Done lost my teeth, half my hearing, and most of my eyesight. All I got left is my hair. This shit better not make it fall out.”

  Alex chuckled, studying the full head of grey hair. He did have a lovely topper.

  He grimaced again as he chugged the juice. “What’s in this crap?”

  “Fruits, vegetables, and a little special spice.” She guessed her best course was to change the subject. “You’ll have to play with your phone again. Morgan wants me to get video of the parents.”

  “You got a cell phone, don’t you?” Nobby muttered around bites of the sandwich before finally shoving the whole thing in his mouth and washing it down with the remaining juice. “Put it on video and let it run. See an opportunity, turn it toward the parents.”

  He tossed the disposable glass and plate in the garbage. “You ready to go, or you want to torture me with some other concoction?”

  Alex waved toward the door. “After you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The DuPont home was nestled in a tree-shaded community on the north side of Brooklyn. Alex flashed her badge at the gate to gain entry. She studied the huge houses as she drove slowly down the main drag. A small child was playing in the front yard of one, and she looked around for the parents, who were nowhere in sight. “People are so stupid. Surely they know the DuPont baby was taken, and yet they’re letting her play out here with no supervision.”

  “Won’t-happen-to-me attitude,” Nobby said. “Don’t sink in until it does.”

  Alex pulled into the driveway and parked. “It can happen to anyone.” Grabbing her cell phone, she set it on video and hit record. She wasn’t sure exactly how it worked or how long she would have, but Alex hoped it would give Morgan whatever he wanted. “You coming or staying in the car?”

  “DuPont is gonna be madder than hell when he finds out we came here instead of the office. I’ll keep a lookout and give you a heads-up if anybody is coming.”

  Alex headed for the front door. There were no cars in the driveway or the open garage, and if they were lucky, he wouldn’t be home. Talking to the mother alone would be ideal. She lifted the knocker then let it fall. A lump formed in her throat as a frazzled Emma DuPont opened the door. She’d seen pictures of Mrs. DuPont the night before, in society pictures, but the woman had aged at least ten years in the past three days.

  “Mrs. DuPont? I’m Detective Alex Fox. I’ve been assigned to special investigations on the disappearance of your baby. Could I come in, please?”

  “Of course, forgive me.” She opened the door wider, and Alex glanced at Nobby before entering. He gave her a thumbs-up.

  The foyer of the house was almost as big as Alex’s apartment, and Mrs. DuPont didn’t seem inclined to invite her farther. Her eyes kept darting toward the back of the house, and Alex used the opportunity to turn the phone to capture her face and hands.

  “Please, have you found her?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. DuPont. I’m afraid there’s really no news yet. I just wanted to follow up on a part of the report that seemed to be missing some information.”
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  Mrs. DuPont wrung her hands together then proceeded to run her fingers through the mess of hair that surrounded her face. A strong odor of alcohol filled the foyer when she spoke again. “My husband isn’t home.”

  “Would you mind if we sat down for a moment?” Alex asked.

  “My husband isn’t home,” she repeated, her attention once again on the back of the house, “and he doesn’t want me to talk to anyone without him.”

  Alex studied the woman more closely, noting the slight tinge of bruising just below the left eye, as well as the finger-shaped bruises on her right arm. “Are you afraid of someone, Mrs. DuPont?”

  She shook her head. “You have to leave.”

  Alex knew her time was running out. She’d come here for an answer to one question, and she wasn’t leaving without it. “Was there a midwife present when your child was born? Or afterwards, perhaps to help you?”

  “Isn’t it in the report?”

  “No, ma’am. I guess the officer forgot to write it down. Perhaps just the agency name if you don’t remember the midwife’s name.”

  She crossed the room quickly, opened the drawer of a credenza, and pulled out a card. She placed it in Alex’s hand and closed her fingers around the card. “Please don’t tell my husband I gave you that. The midwife was his idea. You have to leave now.”

  “Emma, where are you, honey?” a female voice rang out from somewhere in the house. “It’s time for your medicine.”

  Alex watched the already-fearful eyes widen, as Mrs. DuPont’s face turned a ghostly shade of white. “Please go.”

  Alex slipped the card into her back pocket and reached for the doorknob just as a tall brunette entered the foyer. “There you are. You really shouldn’t be out of bed, dear.”

  The voice sent chills down Alex’s spine, and cool grey eyes assessed her from head to toe. “I’m Sabrina Newcomb, Emma’s sister. And you are?”

  “Detective Alex Fox. I had an appointment with Mr. DuPont, but I understand he isn’t here.”

  The smile never faltered, nor did it come anywhere near reaching those cool, calculating eyes. “Nicholas is at work. Perhaps I could help you?”

  “No, I think I should talk with Mr. DuPont.” Alex opened the door and stepped into the fresh air. “Thank you for your offer, though.”

  She felt those eyes boring into her back all the way to her car and fought the urge to turn and check on Mrs. DuPont. Clearly, the woman was scared of either her husband or her sister, or maybe even both.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Want to tell me what you’re so dang riled up about?” Nobby asked.

  “Somebody’s hurting her.” Alex took a sharp right curve before taking her eyes off the road and passing Nobby her cell phone. “Watch the video.”

  Nobby was quiet during his viewing, but immediately took off when finished. “Hate a lowlife that beats up on a woman. Why the hell would he do that? Poor thing’s been through enough with losing her baby.” He paused only to take a deep breath. “We need to get back and send this to Morgan. Bet he’ll have some insights.”

  Alex nodded but continued to watch the road. Was DuPont abusing his wife? Or was it more than that? Had the kidnappers roughed her up and she knew who they were? She only had four days left to find those babies, and Mrs. DuPont was her best source. The problem was getting her alone so she could really talk to her.

  “Sabrina Newcomb, her sister, is staying with her. She struck me as a controlling, scary bitch, and Mrs. DuPont was definitely wary of her. It could be the sister. I made it look like I was confused about where I was supposed to meet Mr. DuPont. She’s probably on the phone to him right now. We need to get to his office.”

  “Even if it is the sister, he could stop it if he wanted to. What’s the bastard do for a living anyway?” Nobby asked.

  Alex shot him a glance. “I thought you read the file? He’s a high-profile lawyer. Represents doctors, pharmacies, and other huge medical corporations.”

  “Bet he’s involved up to his eyeballs.” Nobby grumbled.

  “Why would he have his own baby stolen, Nobby? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Nobby snorted. “Maybe it ain’t his. Wife got lonely and had an affair. Happens all the time in them big-shot families. Or maybe he’s got his eye on the sister and is just getting rid of baggage. You got an extra piece?”

  Alex turned to look at him, eyebrows knitting. “In the glove compartment.”

  Nobby rummaged through the glove box and pulled out the twenty-two. “Piss-poor gun if you ask me.”

  “Nobody asked you,” she said, grinning tightly.

  ~ ~ ~

  The First Savings and Loan building housed DuPont’s office, and Alex managed to find a parking spot after driving through the lot twice. “Are you coming?”

  “Maybe this ain’t such a good idea. Feel better if we’d let Morgan look at that video first.”

  Alex opened her door. “Suit yourself.”

  Nobby jerked on the door handle and climbed out. “Dag blasted, girl, ain’t no reason to go all Lone Ranger on me. I’m coming.”

  Alex slowed down her pace to allow him to catch up. “The Lone Ranger had Tonto, you know.”

  Upon entering the bank, she stopped in front of the marquee. DuPont had the full second floor. Impressive for a one-man show. Conscious of Nobby’s health and age, she chose the elevator over the stairs.

  Posh was not quite the right word to describe the office foyer when they stepped off the elevator. It looked more like an expensive hotel area than a law office. And the women occupying it looked more like movie stars than secretarial staff. DuPont had done well for himself.

  Alex caught sight of a tall brunette headed their way and walked to the front desk. “I’d like to see Mr. DuPont, please.”

  A beautiful redhead with sparkling blue eyes glanced at her coolly. “Do you have an appointment?”

  Pulling out her badge, Alex smiled sweetly. “Yes.”

  The woman who had been bearing down on them caught up. “I’ll handle this, Audrey. We’ve been expecting them. If you’ll follow me, please.”

  They followed her down a long hallway and into the door marked Conference Room A. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? Water, coffee?”

  “Tea would be nice,” Nobby said, as a grin lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “Miss Fox?”

  “Tea, please, and it’s Detective Fox. You have the advantage over me. You are?”

  A fake smile crossed the beautiful face. “Carissa Anders. I’m Mr. DuPont’s administrative assistant. Your appointment was for ten, and it’s now ten after. You may have to wait, but he’ll be with you shortly.”

  She left and returned minutes later with a silver tray bearing two cups of steaming water, a box of Earl Grey tea, milk, and cream. “We don’t get a lot of orders for tea, so I’ll let you make your own. Can I get you anything else?”

  Alex reached for a tea bag, offering up her own fake smile. “Just Mr. DuPont.”

  ~ ~ ~

  DuPont kept them waiting for fifteen minutes before strolling into the conference room. “Miss Fox, a pleasure to finally meet you.” He glanced at Nobby. “And you are, sir?”

  “Detective Matt Adams.”

  Nobby didn’t offer his hand, and DuPont never broke stride as he walked to the front of the room. Alex studied him, a far cry from the picture of his wife. Where Mrs. DuPont had aged drastically and was clearly falling apart, Nicholas DuPont showed no signs of grief or loss.

  “Sabrina told me you stopped by the house. We agreed to meet here.” He glanced at his watch. “And our meeting was at ten.”

  Alex took out her badge. “First of all, Mr. DuPont, it’s Detective Fox. Second, is there a reason you don’t want us talking to your wife?”

  Her tone of voice didn’t faze him. “Yes, there is. I’ll apologize for my wife. She has somewhat of a drinking problem and becomes quite confused at times. The loss of our child has only made things w
orse. I believe I told you that in our last conversation, Miss Fox.”

  Alex fiddled with her cell phone beneath the table, setting the video. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. DuPont. I hope you’ll be getting help for her.”

  His eyes darkened, and his voice held a tinge of anger. “I can take care of my wife. I assume there’s a reason you wanted to see me. My time is quite valuable, so if we could stop with the pleasantries and get down to business.”

  Alex leaned back in the plush conference chair. “We won’t take up much of your time. In reviewing the report, I noticed the officer had not listed the name of your midwife or her firm. We thought it might be relevant to interview her.”

  “I’m sure we gave them that information. Unfortunately, the poor girl was killed in a car crash this morning. Surely, you don’t think she had something to do with it?”

  The man really was a cockwomble. “Even more reason for us to check her out, Mr. DuPont. A death, even one seemingly by accident, this close to the abduction of your child is highly suspicious.”

  “Ridiculous, Miss Fox. I see no reason to waste time on such nonsense.”

  She needed to get out of there before she punched him. Alex stood and nodded to Nobby to follow suit. She wasn’t going to get anything from DuPont, except a hard time. “We’re simply covering all the angles, Mr. DuPont. Perhaps if you could give us the name of the firm, we could follow up with them.”

  DuPont frowned as if in deep thought. “I don’t believe she was with a firm. Her name was Bridgett Sanchez. To be honest, Miss Fox, I’m not even sure she was a legal citizen. My wife is always pulling in strays and trying to help them.”

  Nobby placed a hand on her arm and shook his head. “Thank you for your time, Mr. DuPont. Everything we rule out leaves us more time for other things. We’ll be in touch.”

  DuPont walked toward the door, opened it, and ushered the two of them out. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful. Perhaps if you talk to the officers who took the original report, you’ll save yourself some valuable time.”