Noah's Rainy Day

by Sandra Brannan

  Alderman pushed away from the table, his chair screeching against the tile. “Enough. Max, we’re leaving.”

  Max’s eyes landed on me and we shared a look that I knew to be a deciding moment for Max. I’d seen that look before. I’d pinned him with the same accusatory stare the last time I’d seen him with Ida, his fist cocked and ready to punch her. My stare had warned him that if he touched my sister ever again, he’d be very sorry. Just from my look, he could tell I would unleash the beast within me and fight him to the death, if he so much as harmed one hair on her head. He saw that the look in my eyes confirmed I would keep that promise. He knew I was making him the same promise if I found out he had touched one hair on little Max’s head.

  “No Gil, we’re not. They’re right.”

  CHAPTER 30

  GIL ALDERMAN STOOD OVER his client with his mouth open and his hands lifted in exasperation. “What do you mean, they’re right? Don’t tell me you had any responsibility in little Max’s disappearance?”

  “No, no,” Max countered. “Nothing as nefarious or as cunning. I’m saying that’s what I’d be thinking if I were them. Now sit down, Gil. Or get out. We have work to do here. I wanted great minds like theirs on this case. That’s why I asked for Agent Bergen. She has a great bullshit meter and cuts to the core quicker than any professional I’ve ever worked with.”

  “Thank you, I think?” I said, as all eyes turned my way.

  As Gil slunk down in the chair next to him, Max looked at me and added, “Plus I know if she finds whoever did this, she’ll rip them to shreds like a hungry pit bull.”

  I thought I noticed the tiniest hint of a smile on Streeter’s lips.

  I asked, “But isn’t it true that your hope is to get to whoever did this first, because you’re afraid we’ll ‘screw this up’?” I made sure he saw me making air quotes, eyeing him as I did it to let him know that I had indeed overheard much of his conversation with Gil.

  He held my gaze, offered a grin that had “touché” written all over it, and said, “I meant it when I said cut to the chase. You have. You are. So let me cut to the chase myself. I most definitely want to get my hands on whoever did this before you get to him, before he’s safely behind bars. I did not stage this abduction as a phony kidnap to hide assets, and I hope you don’t waste time following that line of thinking. Because you’d be wrong. I really do want you to find little Max.”

  “So do we,” Streeter said.

  “And I’m not afraid to go to prison for destroying the person who took him, gentlemen,” Max said, tapping ashes off his cigarette and waving his hands in surrender. “And lady, sorry Liv.”

  It was the first time he’d called me by my first name. A chink in his veneer?

  “If I get to who did this before you do, you may very well be locking the cuffs on me and I will get what I deserve. And I will be happy with that outcome. But don’t put the cuffs on too quickly for the wrong reason. If the odds are that this is a parental abduction, look on the other side of the ledger. Aldo Giottani hates my kid. Little Max is the only thing standing in his way to have a supermodel to himself. Think about it.”

  He took another long drag on what I could only imagine was a very expensive cigarette. “With Melissa and me being wealthy, high-profile celebrities, I suggest you broaden your scope a bit beyond the obvious to consider kidnapping for ransom.”

  “But there has been no ransom call,” Streeter reminded him.

  “And it’s been less than twenty-four hours. And this is early Christmas Day. If I were taking little Max for ransom, I’d force the purse to suffer through Christmas morning without him before I made the call. Wouldn’t you, Agent Pierce?”

  I never said Max was stupid. I just said he was an asshole.

  “That’s fair,” Streeter said. “So let’s start there. Who would stand to benefit from kidnapping your son?”

  “Besides Aldo Giottani? Just about anyone who knows me knows I’ll pay anything to get my boy back.”

  “Anything?” I asked.

  Max turned to me. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

  I shrugged and answered honestly, “Because I always thought you were stingy with your money.”

  Alderman actually laughed out loud, which earned a reproachful look from Max. “You have me there. I do pinch every penny. But you knew me before I had a child. Children change things, don’t they, Chief Gates?”

  A chill ran up my spine the way he asked that of Tony. I was probably overthinking this, but Max seemed to be threatening him.

  “They do,” Gates growled. “But I’m confounded that any parent able to afford a private jet on both coasts would be willing to send a five-year-old off in the hands of a complete stranger to fly commercial. That doesn’t strike me as a parent who cares much at all for the well-being and safety of his kid. What am I missing?”

  Max smiled. “Agent Bergen?”

  “What?”

  “Well, you said it best. I’m stingy. That would have been an unnecessary cost. I prefer being called tight, but let’s not quibble over semantics. And I believed since hundreds of thousands of children are escorted across this country each year with no incident, that little Max was quite safe in BlueSky’s care. What parent wouldn’t believe the same?”

  Gates’s expression hardened. “You seem to have an answer for everything.”

  “Tell me something, Max,” I said. “If you’d give anything to get little Max back, how do you suppose Judy Manning will feel when she finds out little Max is gone? Hasn’t she been the one raising him since birth?”

  He shrugged. “She’s a nanny. Nannies come and go. She’ll move on to the next child needing a nanny.”

  “Is that what you told her? To move on to the next child who needs her?”

  “Little Max starts school in the fall. Preschool after Christmas. Melissa wants him for summers and holidays and school breaks. Judy Manning has served her purpose. Things change. Life goes on.”

  “So you fired her?”

  “Not exactly.” Max smiled. “I cut her hours. To part time. Why pay more than you need to? You’re right, Agent Bergen. I am a tightwad. That’s why I’m a billionaire.”

  “Multimillionaire,” I countered. “That’s what I’d heard.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “With Judy Manning, I made it clear that she would no longer have a full-time job when the holidays were over, suggested she spend a week in England considering her options, and told her we’d talk when she returned.”

  “When was this?”

  “Yesterday morning,” Max said. “When little Max was getting ready to go to his mom’s for Christmas. He was upstairs and Nanny Judy was waiting at the door for him. And no, Chief, I still don’t know who actually packed my son’s bag. All I know is that I didn’t.”

  Streeter said, “How did she take the news?”

  “Not well.”

  “Yet you sent your son, the one you care so much about, to the airport with a woman you just fired?” I asked.

  “Not fired. I just cut her hours. And why wouldn’t I send my son with her? That’s what I pay her for.”

  “And it never once crossed your mind that she might be so upset that she’d do something stupid?”

  Max was annoyed with me. “Again, I believe there are dozens of people who climb my suspect list over her. She’s angry, not ruthless or greedy. Or stupid. She’d know better than most that I’d go after her with a vengeance. She knows what I’d do to her, if I ever found her.”

  The thought of her taking the child to another country popped into my mind until his eyes met mine again. Clearly, he meant what he said. And I was sure Nanny Judy would be fearful he’d make good on any threats. For the first time, I found an ounce of respect for his resolution to defend his son.

  Max added, “So you think Nanny Judy might have kidnapped little Max to squeeze me for more money?”

  Streeter shook his head, “Not any more than I think you planned it yourself. I’m trying to gather
all the facts, Mr. Williams. That’s how this works on our end. First priority, to find the boy. Quickly. Every passing minute makes the odds of us finding him that much more difficult.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be wasting any more time with me.” He crushed out the last of his second cigarette and stood to go, his attorney standing alongside him. We stayed seated. He added, “Nanny Judy told me this was Melissa’s fault. That Melissa had always hated her and now she’d poisoned me, too. She said she had cared for little Max every day of his life for five years and didn’t like being cut back to part time, that she should have the option of going with little Max to LA when he visited his mother. She asked me to talk with Melissa. To try to change her mind.”

  The whir of computers was the only noise in the quiet room. Max stood over us, his attorney by his side. Max’s eyes were staring at something a long way off, something he was seeing in his head, not in the room.

  His voice was nearly a whisper when he said, “She cried when she told me she had taught little Max a cute Christmas song to sing for Aldo. She told my son that if he was nice to Aldo then Aldo would tell Melissa to be nice to Nanny Judy, so she could come live with little Max in LA.”

  That explained why little Max had practiced singing “Feliz Navidad” in front of the attentive audience on the plane.

  Max blinked, lowering his eyes to the table. Finally, he turned back to Tony. “Do you have any idea, Chief Gates, what it feels like to have someone you pay, someone you bring into your home to care for your fragile, impressionable child, tell you how successfully they’ve manipulated your child to get what they want?”

  Gates stared at him. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “Well then, please don’t judge me when I tell you that I didn’t fire her. But I do admit there was nothing more I wanted to do at that moment than to throttle her.”

  CHAPTER 31

  THE MULTIPLE INTERVIEWS THAT followed lasted until well past two o’clock in the morning even though Streeter cut the interviews short after nearly an hour when he realized none besides the one with the Williamses would amount to anything. Losing precious time, Streeter told Max and Melissa they were dismissed, and the Williamses wasted no time whisking their friends and associates off to the private airport for all who needed rides home. Mr. and Mrs. Williams opted to stay in a local hotel. In two different rooms, I assumed.

  After dismissing the impromptu debrief of agents and officers who had been involved in the interviews, Streeter, Tony, and I were once again left alone.

  “Well, they sincerely seemed to know nothing about what happened to little Max,” Gates summarized. “From my perspective.”

  Streeter put his hand over his mouth and rubbed either side of his jaw with his fingers and thumb. I couldn’t get a read on whether he agreed with Tony or not.

  “Maybe. But the way I see it, although they both love the child, I don’t think either one really knew much about little Max,” I said.

  “Your Maximillian also pretended to know little about you, as well,” Streeter added.

  “Yeah, that was weird. And he’s not my Maximillian.”

  “And their entourages—servants, attorneys, bodyguards? Hell, we should have rented the Bronco stadium,” Tony said.

  “Image is everything for people like them, I imagine,” Streeter offered.

  “I remember now why we all pleaded with Ida not to marry him,” I said. “I know Melissa is a famous model and all. She is gorgeous and her compassion for little Max seemed genuine. She didn’t strike me as someone who would risk her son in a feigned kidnapping just to get back at Max. What do you think, Chief? You’ve got kids.”

  “She didn’t know much more about the boy than Max did. But I have to say, their love for the child seemed genuine.”

  “They seemed interested in finding out what we’d learned so far in our investigation. And although everyone loaded up on their private jets and flew back to LA and New York City, they both chose to stay here in Denver, neither one with a single assistant or bodyguard or anything. Does that strike anyone as odd? Or is it just me?” I asked.

  “It made me believe they are both sincere in wanting to find their child,” Streeter said. “But the jury is out, depending on if they heed my warning not to involve the press in any way. I have a sneaking suspicion Max has something up his sleeve with the media tomorrow.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Just a hunch. What do you think, Tony?”

  Streeter and I looked to Tony for confirmation.

  “Either they were both in serious denial about the potential fate of their child or I’m afraid that the proverbial saying applies: Nobody’s hands are clean.”

  I had to think about that. Thinking required pacing. If something had happened to their son, how did I expect them to react? Not realizing it, I had started to think out loud. “I’d be pissed, too, if the airlines misplaced my son. I’d probably blame my ex for not taking better precautions, for not flying with him, for not sending the private jet. Who am I to say they didn’t care about their son? If my son ended up missing, I’d probably immerse myself in denial, too. Probably end up drowning in it.”

  I sat down on the edge of the table and in the process I knocked a cold cup of coffee over. Scurrying about case headquarters, I grabbed as many fistfuls of paper towels as I could and started dabbing. Putting one fistful of brown paper on the spill on the table, I dropped to my knees—groaning from the tug in my ribs when I did—and mopped up the mess on the floor.

  Gates got busy mopping up the spill on the table.

  “Thanks, Tony. Sorry, Streeter. How embarrassing. Did I ruin any of your papers? Anything?”

  “No,” he comforted. Reaching down and touching my shoulder, Streeter said, “Come on. Leave that. You were on a roll.”

  I looked up, staring at him from beneath my lowered baseball cap. “I get a little worked up sometimes,” I said as I grabbed his extended hand, stood beside him, wiped my damp hands on my worn blue jeans, and straightened my cap.

  “I didn’t notice,” he said with a grin, his breath warm and minty against my face.

  I blushed and sidestepped his closeness. “I know Max well enough that he was manipulating the situation in there, but I have to tell you, I believe he has no clue who’s behind the abduction and he has every intention of finding the person who did this before we do. And if he does, we will never have the opportunity to press charges or interrogate because we’ll never find the body. Seriously. My sense is that Max is desperate to get little Max back and kill whoever’s behind this.” I wiped my palms on my jeans and paced. “But I have to admit, his love for his son is genuine and I’d listen to his instincts about the nanny, who would have been at the top of my suspect list right behind Max and Melissa before the interviews.”

  “And now?” Streeter asked. I knew he was testing me, trying to figure out if his influence in my becoming an agent was a worthy one. Up until now, I’d forgotten all about my desire to impress him and was just doing what came naturally. Now, I was wondering if I’d said anything I shouldn’t have. Doubting myself.

  I decided to just say what was on my mind. “Unless Max has become a better actor, I think he has a few suspects in mind who might end up wearing some concrete shoes before the sun rises and we’ll never know about them. That’s my belief.”

  “You really think so?” Gates asked.

  I nodded. “He’s an asshole, but I forgot to mention, he’s also quite connected.”

  Streeter pursed his lips. “You don’t have to tell me that.”

  I’d forgotten. After all, Max was able to get me assigned to the case.

  “We need to talk with the nanny as soon as possible,” Gates suggested.

  “We’re already on it. We’ve got people headed to her family’s house in Manchester as we speak,” Streeter assured him.

  “What was your gut feel about those two?” I asked him.

  Streeter cleared his throat. “People respond i
n these situations very differently each time, rarely how you would expect. My experience is that the worse the circumstance, the less predictable the response by loved ones of a victim.”

  Tony added, “But I agree with your assessment of the Williamses, Liv. They both seemed genuinely concerned.”

  “I hate to say this, but I had wondered whether Max had staged this whole event for some self-serving purpose,” I mused. “Now I just don’t know.”

  “Why? To what end? For money?” Gates asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. At first I thought he might have staged this to hide assets in the divorce. After eavesdropping, I think he really is concerned about what happened to little Max. But then I started wondering again. I guess it was the way he decided to fly everyone back to New York in such a hurry. My mind went somewhere slippery. Like what if he had staged the abduction. And little Max is somewhere here in town. Max wouldn’t want any witnesses to whatever he plans to do tonight. Maybe he plans to collect little Max. To make sure he’s safe.”

  Both men stared at me.

  “Well, for one thing, the nanny and Max may be in cahoots here, Streeter. The Max I knew wouldn’t hesitate to hire the nanny to get little Max out of the country and blame it on someone else, just to save himself a few bucks on child support in the divorce. No matter what he’s saying. Although my read is that it would be a long shot and wishful thinking, since that would mean the boy is alive and well somewhere. That would explain why Max sent everyone back to NYC.”

  Streeter said nothing. I couldn’t tell if he thought I was crazy or if I was proving myself worthy and helpful on this case as I’d hoped.

  “Or another option is that Max paid someone else to abduct little Max. Okay, say a kidnapper calls demanding ransom. Max pays it, gets his son back, and all of a sudden the divorce settlement owed Melissa goes down considerably, since his net worth drops by that sum of cash. The fact that he so adamantly denied that would be his intent is exactly why it made me want to look at it from that angle.”