After they listened to his footfall fade on the linoleum, George slipped his hand over Betsy Ann’s white-knuckled one. “You all right, dear?”
“I didn’t think he’d make Blake drive down here. I must call Janie.”
“Probably a good idea. Though I imagine she will not be pleased with us.”
Betsy Ann sucked in a long breath. “Neither will Blake. I am glad you’re here with me.”
He leaned in and pecked her lips. “Me, too.”
~*~
Blake arrived. They heard his booming voice halfway down the corridor. He entered with the Austin PD officer on his heels. He eased his frame into the chair opposite of them and waited for Officer Lopez to become seated. With hands clasped together across the table and the vein in his forehead quite pronounced, Blake glared at them. “You two want to explain what’s going on?”
Betsy Ann’s lips parted, but she closed them when she heard Janie’s shrill voice. “Young man, I’m here at the request of one of your officers. Now where are my friends Betsy Ann Hunt and George McGuffy?”
Shifting his gaze from the elderly couple, he addressed Officer Lopez with a scowl. “That squawking you hear is my mother-in-law, Janie Manson.”
“Any relation to Jack Manson, the detective whose portrait is on the wall of fame? He’s a legend around here.”
“Her husband.” Betsy Ann’s eyes welled with pride.
Lopez whistled through his teeth. “Your mother-in-law, huh?”
The door opened and Janie’s orthopedic soled shoes squeaked inside. “Hello, my dears.” Her gaze fell onto her son-in-law. With an icy change in tone she acknowledged his presence. “Blake.”
“Janie.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Won’t you join us?”
George took it as a cue to stand and offer Janie his seat. She took it and whispered, “Much obliged.”
He dipped his chin and edged next to Betsy Ann’s side.
Officer Lopez half-rose from his chair and extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. We still possess fond memories of your late husband.”
Janie returned a terse smile. “As well you should.”
The stare Blake shot to Janie could slice a block of ice. “Want to explain a few things, Janie? Such as why a man would corner your friends in an elevator and threaten them at knifepoint?”
She retrieved a tissue from her handbag and dabbed her mouth. “I simply asked them,” she pointed with her head to Betsy Ann and George, “while they were down at the archives anyway—one of their hangouts, you see—to research if any cases of illegal organ harvesting had occurred in Central Texas in the past year or so.”
“Janie.” Her name escaped his lips without him moving his jaw.
She jutted her chin forward. “Mere curiosity.”
Her son-in-law’s nostrils flared. The vein on his brow throbbed as silence cloaked the room. Officer Lopez poised his pen over his notepad, his eyes glued to it. A squeak of Blake’s chair brought everyone’s attention to him as he spoke. “Officer Lopez. File your report concerning the attempted assault on this couple. Let me handle my mother-in-law, please. Off the record.”
Lopez swallowed a grin. “Very well. Her unauthorized sleuthing’s not going in my notes. Only the events of today in my jurisdiction. What happens in yours is your business.”
They shook hands. “Thank you. I owe you.”
“Mr. McGuffy and Mrs. Hunt, can you wait a few more minutes while we put the paperwork in order? There will be some that require your signatures and at some point in the near future, there are some mug shots we’d want you to scan on the computer.”
George looked to Betsy Ann. “Do you want to do that now, Betsy Ann?”
“Yes, may as well. While his face is fresh in my mind.”
The officer tapped his tablet. “We’ll set it up. Thank you.” He shifted his gaze to Janie and then to Blake. “You can go. Unless, Detective, you need to speak to them privately?”
Blake massaged his neck. “Give me a moment here while you process the complaint and boot up the database of possible suspects.”
“Right. Ten minutes?” Officer Lopez closed the door behind him.
Blake glared at Janie before he gave a terse grin to her friends. “Will you two stay as well, please? I want to hear what you gleaned from the archives, if anything.”
Betsy Ann clicked open her handbag. “Oh, we did. Printed them out for you. Well, actually for Janie.” She tucked her lower lip into her teeth as she pressed the folds flat and slid the photocopies across the table.
The chief detective picked up the newspaper articles and proceeded to read them.
Muffled voices continued outside the glassed-in room as the rest of the precinct went about its business of crime prevention and detection in the greater Austin metropolis.
George shifted his weight to his other foot.
Betsy Ann’s concentration fixated onto the faux wood grain in the tabletop.
Janie strained to read the photocopies, but Blake rose and began to pace as he perused them. She puffed out her cheeks and slumped her spine into the chair.
The only sounds in the room were the shuffling of papers as Blake read the pages, and George’s slight whistled breathing through his nose. Twice, Betsy Ann shot a glance to Janie who returned it with a quick grin as her fingers intertwined as if in prayer.
After what seemed hours, Blake gave a deep sigh and sat down again. “OK. Interesting articles. Though I already knew kidney abduction existed in this area, the statistics as to why there’s a booming market for them are impressive.”
Janie let out a small cough. “Am I allowed to read them?”
Blake rose once more. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be back in a bit. You three stay.”
Janie harrumphed as he closed the door. She raised her hands like a dog begging. “Woof, woof to you, Blake.”
George took a seat across from the ladies. “Now, Janie.”
She waggled her head. “I didn’t care for his tone. It’s the same one he uses on Baron.”
“The family’s German Shepherd.” Betsy Ann informed her friend.
“Ah.” George winked. “Got it.”
“You most certainly did!” Janie slapped the first article down. “Marvelous research you two.”
Betsy Ann’s face warmed. “It does rather explain a few things.”
“Indeed, it does.” Janie reached into her purse. She pulled out three protein bars. “Here. Figure you skipped lunch.”
“Bless you. Did you, by chance, hear my stomach complain?” George handed one to Betsy Ann and unwrapped one for himself.
Janie glanced at their drinks. “Wonder if I rate a diet soda, too?”
Betsy Ann spurted a small laugh. “Depends on Blake’s mood when he returns, is my guess.”
~*~
Janie pumped her friends for information about their assailant as they chewed their sustenance. A short while later, a train of police officials entered the room with papers, a laptop, and legal pads. Blake played caboose. This time, he leaned against the wall, along with Officer Lopez. Betsy Ann and George viewed the mug shots on the monitor to determine if any resembled their attacker. Janie kept half of her attention on them, half on the articles, and none on her son-in-law, lest she melt under his scrutiny.
Suddenly, Betsy Ann became animated. “Wait. There.” She pointed several times to the screen. “That’s him, right?”
George peered over his readers. “Hmm, yes. It could be.”
A young man with Near Eastern features glared back. His dark eyes flashed cold anger and his jawline clenched concrete-firm. A small scar etched his left cheek.
Officer Lopez shifted the computer to his view and read aloud. “Shadesh Loken. Born in Butwal, Nepal. Foreign student at the university on a two-year visa. Majoring in global economics. Charged with assault six months ago in a bar brawl on Sixth Street. The victim withdrew his complaint a few days later. Four months ago, the Southside precinct booke
d him and three other Hindi men for loitering and possible prostitution solicitation. Charges also dropped.”
A shrill voice sounded. “Why?” All eyes turned to Janie. “I mean, all of these charges dropped. Does he know a good attorney or something?”
The policeman shrugged. His attention shifted to Blake. “The latest arresting officer isn’t on duty right now. I’ll pull his report and e-mail it to you.”
“Thanks.” Blake shook his hand. He reached over and snatched the photocopies from his mother-in-law. “For the District Attorney.”
“Ah, so we uncovered something, then.”
He folded them and slipped them into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Now you and your friends can return to your dice rolling and knitting. You’ve done your civic duty. Got it?”
Janie glared.
The officer cleared his throat. “Sir, Mr. McGuffy and Mrs. Hunt should remain for a few more minutes to wrap up the paperwork.”
“Fine.” He pulled out the back of her chair. “Ready to go, Janie?”
She rose without a comment and patted Betsy Ann on the shoulder. “We’ll catch up later. Drop by for tea. You, too, George.”
Blake opened his mouth but then clamped it shut. With a grunt, he held the door for his mother-in-law and escorted her out of the precinct without another word exchanged.
TWENTY-TWO
After George and Betsy Ann finished at the police station they ordered chicken noodle soup at a drive-thru chain. Neither’s stomach desired anything heavier. “Why don’t I come in for a spell and we can talk about nothing at all until time to go to Janie’s.”
“Well, George...”
He laughed. “Afraid to be alone with me?”
She swished to face him. “Oh no. Not at all. However, social protocol, you know?” She lowered her eyes to her clasped hands in her lap. “It’s how my mother raised me.” With a demure blush, she raised her gaze again to catch a twinkle in his eyes.
“Of course. I admire you even more for your scruples.” He laid a soft hand over hers and gave them a slight squeeze. “Where can we eat our soup then?”
“There’s a snack bar off the dining hall with several small tables. It has vending machines as well as a coffee and tea station, but it shouldn’t be crowded this time of day.”
“Perfect.”
They pulled into the parking lot and maneuvered past the community dumpster. Betsy Ann gave off a small shiver. Her companion flicked a sympathetic grin in her direction. “If it hadn’t been for dear Edwin’s demise, we’d have never met. So pardon me for observing the silver lining in an otherwise gruesome incident.”
Now, her cheeks really felt inflamed. She placed her palm on the one closest to him in a feeble attempt to hide her reaction.
He grinned, and then returned his full attention to the parking lot. She did as well. Out of the corner of her eye, however, she detected his smile grow. A giggle forced its way into her throat. She swallowed it back down before it burst through her lips. Her head told her to slow her emotions down, but her heart still beat a bit faster.
~*~
Warmed by the soup and each other’s company, the couple strolled up Janie’s front walk at two minutes before four. “Perhaps we should have brought something.”
George snickered. “Too late now. Next time, my dear. She’ll understand.”
The door flew open just as his finger aimed for the bell.
“Enter, enter.” Janie waved them inside with several swoops of her hand. The two perched on the couch and eyed the coffee table laden with plates of cream cheese and chive sandwich rounds, Danish butter cookies, strawberries, mixed nuts, and crescents of pecan shortbread cookies dipped in powdered sugar. A teapot and three china cups adorned a silver tray along with creamer and sweetening packets—pink, white, blue, and yellow.
“My, my, Janie. You went all out. How did you find the time?”
She handed them each a napkin. “Most of it I had lying around. Please help yourselves. Did you ever eat lunch?”
Betsy Ann scooted forward and placed a few items on her plate. “George stopped off at the chicken drive-through and ordered us some soup. Now my tummy is settled enough for more.”
“Mine as well. Thanks, Janie.” He took several sandwiches and two cookies.
She poured tea in the cups. Then she snatched a pecan cookie and two strawberries before claiming the winged-back chair opposite them. “So, how did it go at the police department?”
“Fine. They put a…what did the officer call it, George?”
“A BOLO—an acronym for ‘be on the lookout’—for Shadesh. The scar is a dead giveaway. I recalled it immediately.”
“I recall those fierce looking eyes. Such hatred at that young of an age. Terrifying.” Betsy Ann clicked her tongue.
“The youth are often fervent in their beliefs, dearest. Time and responsibilities have yet to squelch their passions.”
Janie raised her teacup. “Well said, George.” She took a sip and set it down on the side table. “So exactly what did he say to you two?”
“To stop investigating the kidney trade.” He popped a strawberry in his mouth.
Their hostess’ eyes enlarged. “Well, well. We did push some buttons then. However, there is one piece of this puzzle that refuses to fit.”
“Oh?” Betsy Ann’s hand halted with a cookie halfway to her lips.
“Aisha is not the dead girl’s daughter.”
“My, my. Could there be a mistake?”
Janie shook her head. Mrs. Fluffy leapt into her lap, circled twice, and settled into a ball of purring fur as her mistress’s fingers stroked through her soft coat. “So, that means there’s another baby out here someplace. That’s where we need to concentrate. Ethel’s calling the hospitals and firehouses in the area to see if anybody abandoned one recently.”
George leaned forward. “Janie, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe Detective Johnson specifically stated...”
“To return to our Bunco and knitting. I know.” She swatted the comment away like a pesky flying insect. “Mere pomp and show for his colleague.”
Betsy Ann and George exchanged concerned glances.
“I still think Ra’naa disappeared for a reason. My guess is she left Aisha in the home after she cleaned it, or she gave it to one of the other maids to do it. I plan to pump Olga and Mita for information when they next come to Ethel’s.”
“You don’t believe her to be the mother?”
“Ra’naa? Of course not, George. The agency wouldn’t hire a nine-month pregnant girl to clean houses.”
Red flamed across his cheeks. “I suppose not.”
Betsy Ann leaned toward him and slid her fingers down his elbow. “We both entertained that idea for an instant. Then rejected it. Too hard to disguise a fully developed baby bump under one of those uniforms.”
“True.” Janie scrunched her mouth to one side.
For a few minutes, Mrs. Fluffy’s purring remained the only sound beside the soft clicks of the mantel clock.
Janie stood. George automatically followed suit.
“No. Sit. I’ll heat up some more water.” She laced her hand through the teapot handle and headed for the kitchen.
“Should we continue to help?” George spoke in low tones to Betsy Ann. “Detective Johnson’s demand sounded awfully firm.”
“Janie, and us, ended up being of assistance before. Blake does admire Janie for her intelligent deductions. Her late husband used her sharp mind as a sounding board on many difficult cases.”
“According to her.”
“True. But we saw her in action with the Edwin case. Once she gets something in her craw, a team of oxen couldn’t pull her away.”
Janie’s footfall sounded. Betsy Ann placed a finger to her lips and snatched another strawberry.
Their host set down the porcelain teapot. “Have I been the subject of hushed conversation?”
Betsy Ann blinked. “I told George how Blake admires your deduct
ive reasoning, and so did Jack, God rest his soul.”
A residual sadness clouded Janie’s eyes for a second. “Yes, Jack and I were a wonderful team, though my name never appeared on the payroll of the Austin Police Department.” She sat down. “Being in the precinct today did stir the memories.”
Betty Ann winked at George.
Janie’s gaze raised as her pupils brightened. “So, let’s brainstorm. How can we locate Ra’naa?”
George cleared his throat. “First, we should determine if she’s still alive, don’t you think? After our encounter with that angry young man today, I fear she’s not.”
~*~
Olga dressed in normal street clothes, closed her locker door, and exited through the employee entrance. Dusk blanketed the alley before the sensor light hanging above the back stoop flickered on to illuminate the night. Another long day. Back to back jobs. She hoped Mita picked up the pace soon and worked her fair share. The girl cleaned thoroughly enough, but took too much time in each room. Today, she’d spent over an hour scrubbing a bathroom. Ra’naa had been both efficient and speedy.
A familiar female voice whispered at her from behind the dumpster. “Olga.”
At first, she thought she’d imagined the voice until it repeated her name a tad louder. Olga pivoted to see a hand motioning her to draw near. Ra’naa huddled against the wall. Disheveled hair shadowed half her face, and wrinkles and dirty smudges covered her clothes. She obviously hadn’t bathed in days.
Olga crouched down. “You OK? Where you been? Everyone’s worried...”
Her friend placed a shaky finger to her lips. “Quiet. No time. Listen.”
Olga agreed.
“Nanu is probably dead. I may be next. Did you hide the baby?”
“Yes. They found her, and she is cared for. Just like we planned.”
Even in the darkening alley, Olga detected the woman’s body relax. “Good. I must go.”
“Wait. What can I do?”
Ran’aa’s widened eyes glistened in the semi-dark. “Stay away from me and also from them. Keep Mita safe.”
“What do I tell Mrs. Arnold?”
Ra’naa placed her hands on both of Olga’s shoulders. “Nothing. Now go. Don’t be seen with me.”
Baby Bunco Page 11
