APB

by Julie Miller

  Niall concurred. “I know.”

  A genuine laugh echoed off the tile walls. “You are one of a kind, Doctor. You see everything in black-and-white, don’t you? Sometimes I envy your ability to ignore your emotions.”

  Funny, he’d been thinking he’d better understand his reactions to her and that mysterious Roger devil he’d never met if he could turn off the emotional responses she seemed to evoke in him and take the time to analyze whether it was fatigue, the sense of duty he was raised with—or the fact he hadn’t interacted this closely with a woman on a personal basis since some time back in med school—that was clouding his perceptions.

  Lucy curled her finger into Tommy’s tiny hand and tucked it in beside Niall’s arm. “I’m sorry about your mother. If a man like your dad loved her, I’m sure she was someone special.”

  “She was.”

  “Diana never met my mother. I wouldn’t let Alberta McKane get close to anyone I cared about. The woman is toxic.” A chilly palm print marked Niall’s shoulder as she pushed him out the door into the hallway. “Now go. I still need ten minutes.”

  Lucy was dressed in jeans and a Kansas City Royals sweatshirt and was ready to go in nine. Since she was motivated to work and Tommy was content to watch them do so, it made sense to set aside his curiosity about Lucy McKane’s past and focus on the very present problem of locating Diana Kozlow and identifying Tommy’s birth parents and possibly the man who had nearly run down Lucy with his fancy car.

  Niall loaded a bassinet and stroller into the back of his SUV while Lucy packed a new diaper bag with items they’d picked up en route to her office at Family Services. They stopped to feed Tommy four more ounces of formula before he fell asleep on Lucy’s shoulder. Only then did the dark-haired woman with the riot of silky curls tumbling over her shoulders sit down at the pod of four desks surrounding a power pole and play the messages on her answering machine.

  After the first beep, a man’s voice, possibly slurred by alcohol, came on the line. “Hey, Luce, it’s me. I know I screwed up. I need to see you, sweet thing. I just want to apologize. Make things right between us. Please don’t—”

  Lucy’s cheeks reddened and she punched the button, cutting off the rest of the drawling message. “Ignore him.”

  “Is that a client?”

  He wondered if she would ever tell him a lie to escape answering one of his questions. “Roger Campbell. High school ex. Somehow he’s gotten my work number. I guess it’s not tricky. We’re a state institution listed in the phone book. He must have asked the main desk to transfer his call to my extension.”

  “Could he have your personal information, too? Does he know where you live? If you testified against him—”

  She shook off his questions and pulled up the next message on the machine. Not a lie. But not an answer, either. “Here’s the recording I want you to listen to.”

  “Lucy? It’s Diana. I won’t be able to make it for lunch. I know that doesn’t makes sense after calling you yesterday when I hadn’t called you at all for a while and I changed my number and... I’m sorry. I have so much to tell you, but...there’s really no time right now.” The younger woman’s voice was already hurried and breathless, but now it dropped to such a soft whisper that Niall sat on the edge of the desk and leaned in to hear it over the muted mechanical noises grinding in the background. “Something’s come up and I have to take care of it. I thought I could handle it myself, but... I have a favor to ask, and I don’t know who else to call. I need to give you something, and I need you to keep it safe while I...” There was a sniffle and a hushed gasp. Diana was crying. Niall looked across the desk to discover Lucy’s eyes tearing up, as well. “We’re family, right? I need you to have my back even though I don’t deserve it. I really made a mess this time. But I can fix it... I have to fix it...”

  There was another sob, and Lucy’s fingers began a slow massage up and down Tommy’s back. A quick gasp ended the weeping on the answering machine. The muffled shout of someone calling through a door or wall triggered the sound of quick footsteps. “I have to go. I’ll get there as soon as I can, but I can’t stay. I’ll explain everything when there’s more time. You’re the only one I can count on. Please.” Then, in a louder voice, Diana added, “I’m here. Yes, I’m alone. Who would I be talking to? Just hold your—”

  He heard a muffled commotion at the end of the message, as if Diana had been hiding the phone in her purse or pocket before she finished disconnecting the call. Even with Niall’s limited imagination, it was impossible to miss the distinct sounds of the young woman’s distress.

  Niall had never seen the stoic expression lining Lucy’s face before as she pressed a button to save the message. “I waited at my apartment for her to bring me this mysterious thing, and when she didn’t show up, I went looking for her. Of course, I didn’t know where to go. I went to the hair salon where she used to work, but they said she hadn’t been there in ages. I tried her old apartment. The boyfriend I knew said she’d moved out months earlier. Then I went to the place on Carmody Street. I hit a dead end. How does a twenty-year-old drop out of sight like that?”

  “And you tried the cell phone number she called you from? You said her voice mail was completely full?”

  Lucy nodded. “I’m right to be worried, aren’t I? Tommy is the something she wanted me to keep safe. And it sounded to me as if she didn’t want anyone on her end of the conversation to listen in.” When Lucy rolled the chair away from her desk and stood, Niall did the same. “I didn’t recognize the other voice, but it sounded like a man, don’t you think? I couldn’t make out what he was saying, though. Just like that argument last night.”

  “Because the man wasn’t speaking English.” Niall had been listening to more than just the recorded words. “Does she know a foreign language? Would she have understood the man?”

  “She took Spanish in high school. That wasn’t Spanish. I know enough of that to at least identify it.”

  It would require a bit of research, but Niall was thinking the words had been something more Russian or Germanic. They’d been angry words. And Diana Kozlow had definitely been afraid. Even though he expected it to be archived, he wanted to read through Diana’s Family Services file to see if there was any friend or reference or job connection that might link her to a man with a foreign accent.

  After staring at him expectantly for a few moments, Lucy swiped away her tears and made efficient work of strapping Tommy into his carrier and covering him with a blanket. She replaced the cap on his bottle and folded the burp rag to tuck into the diaper bag. “What are you thinking, Niall?”

  Although Diana had been vague in her request and had never mentioned a baby or Tommy’s real name, he could see that Lucy believed the younger woman and this child had been in terrible danger. For the moment, Niall agreed. Certainly, Carmody Street was no place for a young woman with a baby to take refuge. He reached out and stopped Lucy’s hand from zipping the bag shut. “You can’t go back to the apartment by yourself until we know more.” And he damn sure didn’t want her there by herself until he’d run a background check on Roger Campbell. “I need to analyze that recording at the crime lab. I have a friend who’s a sound engineer there who owes me a favor. I’ll call him, and we’ll go there after the hospital.”

  Her gaze darted up to meet his, and he felt her skin warming beneath his touch before she turned her hand to squeeze his fingers then pull away to finish packing. “But we’ve already been too much of an imposition. You need to go by Saint Luke’s to visit your grandfather and spend time with your family. I’ve already kept you from them longer than you planned this morning. I can grab the car seat and call a cab so you don’t even have to drive us. Tommy and I will be fine—as long as you don’t mind us staying in your apartment. Maintenance said there was a chance they could get someone to see to my locks today.”

  “And they al
so said it could be Monday morning.” No. Tommy needed Dr. Niall Watson of the KCPD crime lab to be his friend right now. And no matter how independent she claimed to be, Lucy needed a friend, too. Right now that friend was going to be him. Niall shrugged into his black KCPD jacket and picked up the sweater coat she’d draped over the back of her chair. “I work quickly and methodically, Lucy. I will find the answers you and Tommy need. But I can’t do that when I’m not able to focus. And having half the city between you and me when we don’t know what all this means or if you and Tommy are in any kind of danger—”

  “Are you saying I’m a distraction?”

  Nothing but. Confused about whether that was some type of flirtatious remark or whether she was simply seeking clarification, Niall chose not to answer. Instead, he handed her the sweater and picked up Tommy in his carrier. “Get his things and let’s go.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your foster daughter. If Niall says he’ll find her, he will. I’ve never known that boy not to solve a puzzle. Don’t give up hope.”

  “I won’t.” Lucy tried to imagine how different her life might have been if she’d had Millie Leighter for a grandmother or a sweet spinster aunt or even just a friend growing up in Falls City. With Tommy charmingly blowing bubbles and taking an instant liking to the plump silver-haired woman, too, Lucy had spent the last hour in the fifth-floor lobby waiting area at Saint Luke’s Hospital getting to know the fellow knitter along with a little Watson family history.

  Millie had been hired by Thomas Watson when Niall had barely been a teenager, after the murder of Mary Watson. Seamus had come to live with the family then, too, to help give the stunned, grieving children and their father a sense of normalcy and security. By turns touched and then genuinely amused, Lucy listened to Millie’s stories about Duff’s penchant for making trips to the emergency room, Niall’s awkward shyness, Keir’s vivid imagination and Olivia’s ability to keep the brothers who were twice her size in line. But all the while Lucy kept remembering flashes of her own childhood and teen years, when her mother had sent her out to beg for coins so they could buy dinner. Or later, when her mother would send her to the park to play to keep her away from the trailer they sometimes lived in while Alberta slept with the crooked local sheriff to stave off getting arrested for shoplifting. Millie’s humorous rendition of the New Year’s celebration when Seamus had reheated a bunch of leftover pizza and she’d had to come home from her vacation to take care of an entire family stuck in the bathroom with food poisoning made Lucy laugh at the miserable story. But she couldn’t help but feel the sting of useless jealousy.

  She had no such loving anecdotes to share about growing up, no dear friend she’d been able to call when she really needed someone. She’d gotten herself to the hospital that night Roger Campbell had beaten her so badly. And the only reason her mother had come to visit her after the emergency surgery that had nearly gutted her was to advise her to accept Roger’s apology and take him back.

  It was almost impossible for her to imagine being part of a family as close and supportive as Niall’s, despite the tragedies the Watsons had faced. But she could very well imagine her being a friend to a generous woman like Millie Leighter.

  “Oh, my. Little Tommy’s dropped off again.” Millie glanced up as the elevator dinged across from the carpeted waiting area. An orderly rolled a noisy cart of lunch trays into the hallway, trading a greeting with the clerk at the floor’s main desk. “I’m surprised all this hustle and bustle hasn’t kept him awake.”

  Lucy smiled at the tiny bundle of baby nestled against Millie’s chest. “Are you getting tired of holding him?”

  “Not on your life.”

  “He’s content. I’m sure he enjoyed your stories as much as I did.”

  Millie’s cheeks warmed with a blush. “Pish-posh. You’re a dear for letting me rattle on so.”

  “It fills the time while we’re waiting to hear about Seamus. I know I can talk ninety miles a minute when I’m nervous or worried about something.”

  “I don’t believe that.” The older woman smiled. “You’re trapped here with me because Niall didn’t leave you a way to get home. But I thank you for listening.” Millie’s smile faded. “I live in a house with police officers, and I know their work is dangerous. I’ve been through a lot with them—kept the ship running through good times and tough ones, so to speak. But I’ve never been in the middle of a shooting myself, and I’m not handling this very well. I’ll never forget the awful sound of all those guns firing, and the screams, and...watching Seamus crumple to the floor like that. There was so much blood. I thought... I was certain...”

  Lucy reached across the gap between their chairs to comfort the other woman. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be there.”

  Millie sniffled away the tears that threatened to spill over. She patted Lucy’s hand before pulling up the cotton blanket Tommy was swaddled in to shield his face from the hospital’s bright lights. “New life like this is always the best antidote for a horrific experience like that. And so is friendly conversation. Now why don’t you tell me something about you. What were you like as a little girl?”

  Not Lucy’s favorite topic of conversation. She sat back in the cushioned chair, running through the short list of memories she was willing to share. “Well... I had a next-door neighbor who taught me how to knit when I was in the fourth grade. I made everybody I knew a pot holder for Christmas that year. They got scarves the year after that.”

  “And now you’re creating intricate patterns like those beautiful socks you’re wearing. The curved needles give me fits. I invariably drop a stitch. If you have any hints—” A door opened down the hallway and Lucy turned as the older woman straightened in her seat to look across the carpeted waiting area. “There are Thomas and the boys. I wonder if they have any news.”

  Duff came out of the room first. “That guy disappeared like a freakin’ magician. One minute I’m running after him on the roof, and then poof—he jumps onto the next building and he’s gone.”

  Keir Watson followed. “He probably had help to make his getaway.”

  Lucy sat up straighter when Niall appeared. The three brothers gathered in the hallway, close enough for her to eavesdrop on their conversation. “Then I’m guessing he’s not a crazy. Most shooters like that work solo. They’re expecting notoriety after the fact and don’t care if they get caught or not. I’ve got a couple of guys at the lab combing social media to see if there’s any kind of suicide note or manifesto posted. This guy had a purpose for being there.”

  “To take down Grandpa?” Keir asked.

  Duff swore under his breath. “To take down someone. Either he’s a lousy shot and Grandpa is collateral damage—”

  “Or he hit exactly who he was aiming for,” Niall concluded.

  Thomas Watson entered the hallway after his sons. “And the man with the best shot at telling us why he was targeted can’t talk.”

  The raised male voices were instantly shushed by a middle-aged woman sporting green scrubs and a honey-brown ponytail. She shut the door behind her and moved past them, speaking as if she expected the four men to follow her. “I thought the doctor made it very clear, Mr. Watson. No more than two visitors in the room at the same time. And only for a few minutes. And I find you all in there grilling him for information? You’ll tire your father out.”

  Thomas lengthened his rolling stride to catch up to the nurse’s quick steps. “But he wants to see us. We have decisions to make about his care, and I want his input.”

  “Input?” The nurse stopped in the waiting area, unfazed by the circle of Watson men towering around her. “You asked him one question about hiring me, then went right back to your investigation. Seamus can’t speak, and having him squeeze your hand so often to indicate yes and no is taxing on his fine-motor muscles and the neural
transmitters he needs to slowly learn how to master all over again. You saw how agitated he was.”

  “We were reassuring him that we’re staying on top of KCPD’s investigation into his getting shot,” Thomas explained. “He’s a retired cop. He needs to hear that.”

  The nurse seemed unimpressed by his argument. “He needs to rest.”

  Millie stood with the baby. “Is Seamus all right?”

  Thomas propped his hands at his waist, echoing the stance Lucy had seen Niall use so many times. “I think frustrated is the word for it, Millie. Clearly, his ideas and stubbornness are intact, but he’s struggling to communicate what he means.”

  The nurse, whose name badge read Jane Boyle, RN, tilted her face up to admonish Thomas. “Small steps, Mr. Watson. Your father needs to take small steps if he’s going to recover fully. And if you intend to hire me, then we’ll follow the doctor’s orders and do exactly as I say with my patient. And that means no interrogations.”

  Niall’s older brother, Duff, crossed his massive arms beside their father. “We haven’t signed on the dotted line yet, lady.”

  Millie’s voice sounded much older than it had just a few moments earlier. “You’re hiring someone to take care of Seamus when he comes home?”

  Thomas nodded. “Dr. Koelus said Dad needs round-the-clock care for a couple of weeks and physical therapy for some time beyond that. He recommended Ms. Boyle here. She’s a private nurse with PT experience. But we’re trying to decide if she and Seamus are compatible. Hell, we’re trying to decide if she and I are compatible. If she’s staying at the house...”

  Millie’s blue gaze darted over to Lucy, and she turned her head to whisper, “I think Tommy needs to be changed. Do you mind if I take him to the ladies’ room?”

  “Of course not. Do you want me to take him?”

  “Don’t be silly, dear. I can manage.”

  “Thank...you?” Although her nose hadn’t detected any telltale odor, Lucy deferred to the older woman’s experience. But when she handed her the diaper bag, Lucy read something else in Millie’s eyes before she scurried away down the corridor. Of all the family meetings she’d imagined being a part of, they’d never included taking any member for granted. Perhaps worry and fatigue had clouded Niall’s keen powers of observation. Or maybe it was a guy thing that all four men were oblivious to what was so painfully clear to Lucy.