by B. J Daniels
Worse, he feared that if Meredith Foster had abducted Charlotte, it was because of the lie Charlotte had told about John Foster. A lie that could have already cost Charlotte her life. And all because Charlotte apparently didn’t want anyone knowing that Lucas Bronson was the father of her baby.
Oh, the tangled web we weave, he thought.
He’d considered taking what circumstantial evidence they had to the sheriff. Better yet, the FBI. But he knew that with Charlotte’s phone call and the note, coupled with her past behavior with the law, they wouldn’t get more than lip service.
Also, Hank knew how the FBI worked. The agents wouldn’t have been doing any more than he was doing right now. Actually, a lot less, he thought, since the phone tap would have been illegal without a warrant and they couldn’t have gotten a warrant with such flimsy evidence.
The garage door opened again and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel the clock ticking and hoped to hell he was doing the right thing by not turning this over to someone who wasn’t involved with the mother of the alleged missing girl. Would Arlene forgive him if he made the wrong move and Charlotte and the baby suffered for it?
As the back of the SUV swung up, Meredith Foster appeared with a dry-cleaning bag and several department store shopping sacks, as if returning items. She was dressed up for her luncheon engagement with her friend Cara.
She slammed the trunk door, looking very pregnant, and disappeared back into the garage. A moment later, the silver SUV backed out and sped off down the street toward downtown Billings, making him wonder if he wasn’t chasing the wrong suspect.
Hank called the home phone just to make sure that Delores was gone as Meredith had said. The live-in’s car wasn’t on the street where it had been last time. He’d seen it and run the plates.
The phone rang and rang and finally the answering machine picked up.
He hung up without leaving a message and looked over at Arlene. “Ready?”
THE FOSTER HOUSE had a security system, state-of-the-art, the kind Hank had been trained in years ago.
Within minutes he and Arlene, dressed in their utility company uniforms, with him carrying a toolbox, headed for the back door.
Within seconds they were in the house, the system disarmed. He handed Arlene a pair of latex gloves. “Put these on. Leave everything just as it was. You start upstairs.” He handed her a small two-way radio. “I’ll signal you if we need to get out quickly.”
She nodded, clipped the radio to her belt as he had done and snapped on the gloves, her face set in determination.
“Ten minutes. See what you can find,” he said, knowing he didn’t have to explain to her what they were looking for.
He took the office. The entire place was too neat and clean. It felt like one of those model homes where no one lives. Even Arlene’s, with the plastic covers on the couch and chairs, was more inviting.
The office, which he found at once, contained little. One three-drawer cherry file cabinet that matched the desk and chair. The top desk drawer had the usual: pens, extra box of staples, thumbtacks, paper clips, white-out and stamps. The two other drawers contained envelopes, paper and bills to be paid.
Hank sorted through the mail twice seeing nothing except the usual household bills. No rental records for some hideaway to keep a young pregnant girl. He hadn’t expected Meredith Foster to be that foolish. She hadn’t been.
The file cabinet was locked. He found the key under the box of staples in the top desk drawer.
Like the rest of the office, the file cabinet offered nothing of interest except insight into the Fosters. Both seemed to be meticulous to the extreme.
If either of them had something to do with Charlotte being missing, then the abduction would have been well planned.
Something was bothering him. He couldn’t put his finger on it until he had searched the rest of the downstairs.
He backtracked to the office. Medical bills. John Foster had said his wife was having a difficult pregnancy. Meredith had indicated the same thing. But he couldn’t remember seeing any in the mail.
He opened the file cabinet again and pulled out the file marked Medical and riffled through the papers.
Dr. Florence Springer. Hank memorized the name and address. He knew why he hadn’t picked up on it earlier. There were only a couple of paid bills from Dr. Springer in the file.
Maybe Meredith had been seeing a specialist. But then, where were the invoices?
In the back of the file cabinet was a box marked Canceled Checks.
One quick peek was all he needed. All of the checks were signed in Meredith Foster’s no-nonsense neat hand.
Of course Meredith would do the bills. No checks to another doctor.
As he closed the file cabinet, locked it, replacing the key in the drawer, he heard Arlene come into the room and looked up. One look, and he knew she’d found something.
ARLENE CLUTCHED the book in her hands to keep from shaking.
“What did you find?” Hank asked.
“This was next to her bed, on the bookshelf with some other books about babies and pregnancy.”
“Nothing unusual about that, since she’s pregnant,” Hank said.
“Except this one was wedged behind the others.” She handed him the book, her hand trembling from the shock of what she’d found.
“Check out the pages she has marked.”
He glanced at the title of the book, then let the pages fall open to the receipt Meredith Foster had been using as a bookmark.
Hank closed the book after a moment to study the title. She watched him school his expression.
“C-sections aren’t that unusual, especially in high-risk pregnancies,” he said. “She’d read up on them.”
“It’s a medical book.” Her voice broke.
“Why would she need to know how to perform the surgery?”
“Put the book back exactly as you found it,” he said, glancing at his watch. “We have to get out now.”
“Hank—”
“We can talk in the van. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
She’d hoped he would relieve her growing fear about Charlotte and the baby. He’d tried, but she knew that the medical book and the marked page had upset him as much as it had her. Only he was better at hiding his reaction.
She hurried up the stairs to the spare bedroom where it was clear that Meredith had been staying and did as he’d instructed, trying not to let her fear get the best of her. Now more than ever she couldn’t fall apart.
She was waiting in the kitchen, standing on the expensive Italian tile, not touching anything, making herself as small as possible, when he suddenly appeared.
She’d never known anyone who could move so quietly.
He motioned toward the back door they’d come in. She followed. Once outside, she took a gasping breath. The air was hot and close and she felt as if she were suffocating.
He reset the alarm, stripped off his gloves. She did the same, stuffing them into her pocket just as he had done. Then he took her arm as he led her along the side of the house until they were almost to the spot where the elaborate landscaping that blocked any view of the neighbors ended.
He stopped to pick up the toolbox from where he’d ditched it. Arlene made sure her hair was tucked under her cap. He gave her a thumbs-up and, with toolbox in hand, walked casually to the service van parked at the curb.
It wasn’t until they were inside the van and several blocks away that she finally felt she could breathe. She fought the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel the clock ticking. Charlotte could have the baby at any moment. Maybe already had.
Was she alone? Scared?
Arlene fought back the tears that closed her throat. What if something horrible had happened to Charlotte and the baby, and that it was too late? They were too late?
Hank parked the van. She felt his hand on her arm. She turned to him.
“I know you’re scared. But, believe me, I’m trying t
o find her as fast as possible.”
She nodded. “I know. Thank you. Meredith did something with Charlotte and the baby, didn’t she?”
“I think it’s possible given what we know now. Let me see what I can find out, all right? Will you be okay out here for a few minutes?”
“Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever it is you do,” she said, just then realizing that he’d parked in front of a cell phone company.
“I’ll be right back.”
She watched him go, wondering what she would have done without him. Certainly not have broken into anyone’s home. Or even tracked down John Foster. And she knew how far she would have gotten with law enforcement.
As she waited, she did something she’d never done. She prayed.
HANK BOUGHT A CELL phone and some minutes, then dialed numbers he’d told himself he’d forgotten.
“Need some medical information on one Meredith Foster. Doctor’s name is Florence Springer.” He gave the name of Meredith’s insurance company, complete with address.
“Looking for pregnancy information. Need it ASAP. Will hold.”
He stood in the shade of the building, watching his SUV. He could just make out Arlene inside. When he’d seen the medical book, the chapter on C-sections falling open too easily where it had been marked, he’d tried not to let her see his concern.
But Arlene was sharp. She knew. She’d known when she found the book.
“Information ready to transmit,” the voice on the other end of the line acknowledged. “Protected e-mail address?”
He rattled off a secure e-mail address. What would they do without computers? “How soon should I have that?”
“Sending it now.”
He hung up and walked back to his vehicle and Arlene. Reaching behind his seat, he picked up the laptop computer and turned it on. The van came stocked with wireless Internet. Once on the Internet, he checked the special account he’d set up.
There it was. Quickly he scanned through Meredith Foster’s confidential medical records, once, twice—and let out an expletive as he looked up at Arlene.
“Tell me,” she said and seemed to brace herself.
“Meredith Foster isn’t pregnant.”
Chapter Eleven
They watched the Foster house from a distance via the monitor in the back of the van. Hank had gotten them more food before returning to the house. He’d checked to make sure no one had been there since they’d left earlier.
No one had.
It was almost six in the evening by the time John Foster’s little black car pulled into the drive.
Meredith hadn’t returned, and Hank had felt his worry escalate with each passing hour.
“Doesn’t look as if John will be getting a hot meal tonight,” Arlene said. “You don’t think she—”
“We’re about to find out,” Hank said as he started the engine and drove down to the Foster house.
John Foster was just getting out of his car and hadn’t even had time to close the garage door. He looked up as the van roared up.
The man stood like a deer caught in the headlights as Hank and Arlene got out and walked toward him. They still wore their utility service uniforms, but Arlene saw that John recognized them.
“I thought I answered all your questions,” he said, already sounding panicked. If he wondered why they were dressed as they were, he didn’t ask.
“Where is your wife?” Hank demanded.
“My wife? She’s gone to visit a friend. You upset her. She’s pregnant and could lose the baby.” He sounded distraught.
“Let’s step inside,” Hank said calmly.
John Foster fumbled his cell phone out. “I think I’m going to call the police. This is harassment.”
“Your wife isn’t pregnant,” Hank snapped.
“She never was. She faked the whole thing. And, unless I miss my guess, she abducted Charlotte Evans and intends to take her baby—one way or the other.” He stopped. “I thought you were going to call the police?”
John Foster had frozen in motion, the cell phone in his hand. Suddenly he dropped the phone. It hit the concrete garage floor and bounced.
Hank caught it before it could bounce again and handed it back. “We need to find your wife before she does something we’re all going to regret. Now, shall we step inside?”
John nodded and turned to lead them into the house. Hank closed the garage door behind them and followed.
“Where did she say she was going?” Hank asked as soon as they were standing in the kitchen.
“She didn’t say. She was angry with me and said she needed time alone to think. She knows about me and Charlotte.”
Hank swore. “I called Meredith last night and told her it wasn’t your baby. You never slept with Charlotte. She drugged you and only planned to tell you that you’d impregnated her. Apparently she’d planned to have you help with expenses. She never got around to doing that, right?”
His eyes widened. “No. Meredith knew last night?”
“I guess she didn’t tell you,” Hank said.
John Foster pulled out a chair at the breakfast nook and dropped into it.
“I’ll make coffee,” Arlene said and Hank nodded his approval.
John looked stunned as he dropped his head in his hands.
“Where would she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“She has a cell phone with her, right?”
He nodded.
“What’s the number?” As John gave it to him, Hank scribbled down the number into a small notebook.
Arlene watched for a moment, then asked, “Where do you keep the coffee?”
John shook his head. He looked dazed. “I don’t know.”
Hank heard Arlene going through the cupboards. She found the coffee and got a pot going, the smell filling the kitchen as he continued to question John Foster.
“Does her cell phone have GPS on it?” Hank asked.
John shrugged. “I suppose so. She always likes the best that money can buy.” He looked alarmed that he’d said that. “Not that she doesn’t deserve it.”
“Your wife lied to you.”
“I just can’t believe Meredith would do anything like this.”
“Can’t you?” Hank asked.
John Foster took the cup of hot coffee Arlene offered him, clutching it in both hands like a life raft. He took a sip, then another, and seemed to grow a little stronger.
“Look,” Hank said. “Meredith has to be checking on Charlotte, so wherever the girl is being held must be close. Do you have a summer cabin, a condo, a favorite place you go? A friend who she might have watching Charlotte?”
His head came up slowly. He blinked. “She has a friend who owns a place in Red Lodge. It’s about thirty miles south of here in the mountains.”
Hank shot Arlene a look. “Is there a phone up there?”
John shook his head. “No cell phone service either.”
“Can you draw us a map how to get there?”
John nodded as Hank handed him the notebook and pen.
Hank swore. He’d watched Meredith load a lot of things into the SUV—from the rear. She’d wanted them to see her. She’d known they would be watching. Just as she had to have known her phone was tapped. That’s why she’d made the luncheon appointment on her land line. She’d probably canceled it via her cell phone later.
He’d been had. He should have followed her. But if he hadn’t gotten into the house, he wouldn’t have known she wasn’t pregnant. Not that that information didn’t seem pretty worthless right now.
It wouldn’t help find Charlotte. But at least he had a pretty good idea of why Meredith had taken Charlotte. She wanted the baby. Apparently planned to try to pass it off as her own.
What had she planned to do with Charlotte, though? That worried him. That and the fact that Meredith knew they were onto her. How did that change things?
Would she make a run for it? Or did she think she could still get away with thi
s? There was no evidence against Meredith at this point. If Charlotte was never found…
He didn’t want to go down that road. He had to find her—and fast.
As meticulous as Meredith was, she’d planned ahead, probably taking a suitcase to wherever she had Charlotte stashed—maybe even before she’d abducted the girl. She probably had the rest figured out, as well, a story about her baby being born earlier, away from a hospital, then showing up with Charlotte’s baby. No one would have been the wiser, since apparently she’d had John fooled from day one.
Meredith could have gotten away with it.
“We’re going to need a photograph of your wife,” he told John as he tore the map from the notebook and handed it to Arlene. While John went to get a photo, Hank asked Arlene, “How you holding up?”
“Okay,” she said.
He smiled at her, dropping a hand to her shoulder to rub her neck for a moment. He could tell she was on edge but trying hard to remain strong. He’d never met a more courageous woman. If this had been his daughter, his grandchild…
John returned with the photo and Hank asked Arlene to wait for him in the van. Then he turned to Foster.
“If you hear from your wife, you call me immediately. Do not tell her that we were here or that you know she isn’t pregnant. If you do that, she will have no reason to keep Charlotte Evans or her baby alive. Do you understand?”
John shuddered. “Meredith wouldn’t—”
“Your wife is in a very delicate mental state right now. One little push…”
“I understand.”
“Good. Give me your cell phone number. I want to be able to reach you.”
Foster seemed more together as he gave him the number, but still Hank worried.
“If you hear anything from her, you’ll call me, right? You still have my number?”
John Foster nodded. “What will happen to Meredith if all this is true?”
“If will depend on if we can stop her in time.”
ARLENE TRIED NOT to think. But it was impossible. She could imagine Charlotte, pregnant and afraid, being held prisoner by some stranger. Her baby girl. Charlotte had never been strong. She was the sensitive one, the one who seemed the most affected by any problems in the family.
