The Deputy's Duty

by Terri Reed

  The smells of a noodle house offering soy-sauce-ladened dishes mixed with the more commercial scents wafting from a popular Tex-Mex restaurant next door made Ryan’s stomach rumble. The plane’s muffin and coffee hadn’t been enough of a breakfast.

  Hip and trendy stores replaced the old tattoo parlors and punk-rock shops that had once catered to the more bohemian crowd. One of Ryan’s buddies had gotten a tat at a shop several blocks down.

  What had brought Christina to this neighborhood?

  A police cruiser sat parked at the curb. A young uniformed police officer stood casually on the sidewalk. He nodded to an elderly woman passing by. Ryan approached him. He read the name tag on the officer’s shirt. “Officer Cribs.”

  Cribs snapped to attention with a wary look in his eyes. “Yes.”

  Ryan showed him his badge and introduced himself and Meghan. He showed the officer the photos he’d brought with him, flashing the images of Dosha Meniski, Christina Hennessy and Georgina Hennessy.

  The officer shook his head. “No one’s come out or gone in since I arrived.”

  “We’ll have to go door-to-door,” Ryan stated and helped Meghan don the flak vest.

  She grimaced as the weight of the jacket dropped onto her shoulders. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Considering we were shot at yesterday? Yeah, necessary.”

  “Okay then.”

  He approved of her attitude, appreciated her spunk. She might need that and more depending how things turned out. He unlocked his gun case, palmed his service weapon and chambered a round before tucking the Sig into the holster clipped to his belt. “Can I stow this in your trunk?” Ryan asked holding up the case.

  “Of course.” Cribs popped the trunk. Ryan tossed the case inside.

  “Captain Gregson said I was to accompany you,” the officer said, falling in step with them.

  Ryan nodded, glad for the support. They entered the building and started knocking on doors, showing the three photos to the residents. The building was old, but clean.

  The stairwell was muggy and hot. Ryan’s cotton shirt stuck to his back. On the fourth floor, Meghan paused to tie up her hair, exposing the graceful lines of her neck.

  On the top floor of the five-floor walk-up, they encountered a bent old man who studied the photos before pointing down the hall. “There. Apartment F.”

  Adrenaline pumped through Ryan’s veins. He pulled Meghan behind him. He and Cribs flanked the door. Holding his Sig Sauer in a two-handed grip, with the muzzle pointed down, Ryan allowed Officer Cribs to take the lead.

  Cribs rapped his knuckles against the prefabricated door. “NYPD. Open up.”

  No sounds came from inside the apartment. Ryan’s gut clenched. He glanced at Meghan. Her apprehensive expression ramped up his own anxiety. He remembered the way Meghan had prayed after Christina escaped with Georgina. Though his faith was on unsteady ground, he sent up a silent request. Lord, let us find Georgina and capture Christina. Keep my little niece safe.

  Abruptly the door swung open, startling Ryan. He pointed his weapon at the woman standing in the doorway.

  EIGHT

  Short, round and weathered were the words that sprang to Ryan’s mind. A real old-world babushka, complete with a triangular scarf covering her graying hair. His gaze searched beyond the woman. The apartment appeared empty.

  “Are you Dosha Meniski?” Cribs asked.

  “Da. I am Dosha,” she answered, her voice heavily accented with the distinct sound of Eastern European descent. “Finally you come.”

  Confused, Ryan lowered his weapon. “Is your great-niece Christina here?”

  Dosha shook her head, worry pinched the corners of her eyes. “No. I’m worried. She’s not in her right mind.”

  Behind him, Ryan heard Meghan’s soft intake of breath. She pushed past him to face Dosha. “Where’s Georgina?”

  Dosha wrung her hands. “She go with Christina.” Her gaze pleaded with them. “Please, you must help. I fear for the baby.”

  Frustration added weight to Ryan’s heavy heart. He holstered his weapon. “Do you know where they went?”

  The young officer eased past them and quickly made sure the small apartment was indeed empty save for Dosha.

  “No. Christina received a phone call. Then she bundled baby up and took her. I plead with her to leave little girl with me, but she wouldn’t. She told me to say goodbye to Georgina. I worry she won’t be back.”

  Ryan’s mind raced with possibilities. Something at the periphery of his thoughts clamored for attention.

  “Christina didn’t take your car,” Meghan said.

  “I watch from window. She climbed in a taxi. I don’t know where they were going. The taxi headed uptown.”

  He clasped her hand. “Thank you.”

  They left Dosha with the promise to let her know when they found Georgina and Christina. He would find them. No matter what it took.

  Outside on the sidewalk, Officer Cribs called his dispatch. Within moments they had the name of a cabdriver and current location for the taxi that had picked up a fare in front of the East Village apartment building.

  Officer Cribs drove them across town. As they sat at a stoplight, Ryan glanced out the passenger window. The building on the corner was a bank that reminded Ryan of the anonymous package they’d received not long after Olivia’s death. The box had contained a baby blanket and hospital bracelet tipping them off to the fact that Olivia had given birth to a baby girl. They never had discovered who’d sent the package. Ryan had a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew who had sent the items in hopes they’d led to Georgina.

  His father.

  Welling rage and bitterness crashed over him, making him clench his jaw until it ached. Meghan’s words chased along behind, Choose to forgive.

  Right now he couldn’t.

  But he also couldn’t give in to the fury wanting to spill out. He had to concentrate on the immediate need. Georgina. Her safety was paramount. Bringing in Christina ran a close second.

  He refocused, replaying the contents of the package in his mind.

  In addition to the baby items, the box had contained an uncashed check in the amount of ten thousand dollars made out to Olivia. Drawn on that bank in New York signed by a William Sharp. The account was closed and the lawyer’s address had turned out to be bogus… .

  More frustrated than not, he struggled to put the pieces together. Had this check been a payoff by the Hennessys? Or a payment for the baby Olivia had given up? Why hadn’t Olivia cashed the check?

  Who was this lawyer and what part did he play in the death of Olivia? Was there a connection between Sharp and the Hennessys?

  He blew out a breath as the questions battered at his mind like baseballs spitting from an out-of-control pitching machine.

  They found Christina’s taxi driver leaning against his car and eating a hot dog on Broadway.

  Officer Cribs hung back as Ryan approached the man. He wore a Yankees ball cap backward, jeans and a short-sleeve loose shirt. Mustard smears on his cheek stood out in sharp contrast to his dark skin.

  “You Ajay Baboor?” Ryan asked as he stepped close, blocking the guy in.

  Wariness flickered in his dark eyes. “That’s me. Who wants to know?”

  The heavy Brooklyn accent surprised Ryan. So much for stereotypical ideas. “I’m Deputy Chief Ryan Fitzgerald.” He showed his badge. “You picked up a fare this morning. A woman and child.”

  “These two,” Meghan said, holding up the photos they’d brought of Christina and Georgina.

  Ajay glanced at the photos then his gaze darted between Ryan and Meghan. “Yeah. So?”

  “Where did you drop them off?” Ryan pressed.

&nb
sp; “Was the little girl okay?” Meghan asked, her voice betraying her anxiety with a slight tremor.

  Ajay nodded. “Yeah, the kid was great. Laughing and chattering up a storm. Mom wasn’t so happy, though. Kept telling the kid to shush.” He shook his head. “Some people don’t get that kids are kids and can’t help their babbling. I see it all the time.”

  “But where did you drop them off?” Ryan repeated his question.

  “The 500 block of West 178th, up in Washington Heights.”

  Another lead to follow. Ryan felt like he was chasing after Hansel and Gretel. At least Christina had left a trail of crumbs in her wake. “Did you make any other stops?”

  Ajay nodded. “Sure did.”

  Meghan stepped forward. “Where?”

  “You’re not a cop,” Ajay observed, his gaze raking over her with interest.

  Ryan glared at the man, not liking they way he leered at her.

  “No, I’m not law enforcement,” Meghan said. “I’m a reporter and that little girl is my relative.”

  Ajay frowned fiercely. “Kidnapped?”

  “Yes,” Meghan said. “Any information you have could help us.”

  With a nod, Ajay said, “Picked up a suit on West 47th. Snappy dresser. He had even less tolerance for the toddler than the woman.”

  Meghan made a noise that expressed the disgust Ryan felt. “Did you catch the guy’s name?”

  Ajay shook his head. “No. But they were meeting someone and the suit was anxious because they were running behind. Gave me an extra twenty to ‘step on it.’” Ajay snorted. “Give me a break. Twenty bucks will hardly buy me lunch let alone get me to violate traffic laws.” He raised his chin in acknowledgment of Cribs.

  “Can you describe the man in the suit?” Meghan asked.

  “White. Five-ten, brown hair, brown eyes. Navy pinstripe with a red-and-yellow-striped tie. Like I said, snappy dresser. My guess the guy was a lawyer of some sort. You know how they are.”

  Ryan took it the guy didn’t have any more of an affinity for lawyers than he did cops. “Anything else?”

  Ajay shrugged. “Nope. That’s it.”

  “Thank you,” Meghan said and hurried toward the awaiting cruiser. Ryan followed closely behind. Officer Cribs expertly maneuvered through the thick New York traffic, slowly working their way farther uptown.

  More questions poked at Ryan. Was this lawyer the same one who had issued the check to Olivia? If so, then how were he and Christina connected?

  The 500 block of West 178th was a busy intersection with access to US 1 and I-95 crossing over Harlem River Drive and flowing into the Bronx.

  The buildings were defaced with gang graffiti. Piles of black garbage bags sat on the sidewalk. The stench of refuse hit Ryan immediately as he climbed out of the cruiser. A group of teens eyed them warily before dispersing in different directions. He was thankful for the marked car.

  “Now where?” Meghan asked, her gaze wide as she looked around.

  A metal door of the nearest building rolled up and a man hefting a full garbage bag strolled out and plopped the bag on the curb, adding to the growing mound.

  Ryan held out the picture of Christina, figuring she was striking enough to have drawn notice. “Have you seen this woman recently?”

  The guy grunted and shook his head before disappearing back inside.

  “Of course, that would have been too easy,” Ryan commented wryly.

  “Nothing about this has been easy,” Meghan said.

  “Too true. Let’s start hitting the doors.”

  Fifteen minutes later, a boy of about seven recognized Christina’s picture. “She went in there.” He pointed to a brick building with boarded-up windows.

  “What would she be doing in there?” Meghan murmured. “That doesn’t look like a good place to bring a child.”

  No, it wasn’t. But given Christina had no problem with guns and thugs…

  Ryan’s senses went on high alert as they approached the building. Cribs led the way inside the dark, dank entryway. The smells of urine, decay and burnt cabbage permeated the air.

  “Ugh.” Meghan held her hand to her nose and mouth.

  The loud retort of gunfire erupted overhead.

  Heart jumping and training kicking in, Ryan drew his weapon and pulled Meghan behind him. Cribs grabbed his radio off his belt and reported in. “Shots fired. Second floor.” He spouted the address before taking a position by the rickety-looking elevator.

  “Aren’t we going up?” Meghan asked as she huddled close behind Ryan.

  He wasn’t taking any chances with her safety. “No. We’ll wait for backup.”

  A door at the end of the hall banged open and three people came charging out of the stairwell.

  Ryan instinctively drew Meghan back even as his mind registered that he was facing Christina Hennessy and two men. The trio banked right and disappeared down another hallway, obviously seeking to escape.

  Meghan must have seen them as well because she burst out of his grip and ran full speed after them. Fearing for her safety, Ryan closely followed as one thought slammed into him, knocking the breath from his lungs.

  Three people. Three adults. His stomach sank. His chest tightened.

  Where was Georgina?

  * * *

  A strong hand grabbed Meghan by the collar of the heavy flak vest weighing her down and jerked her to a stop. She yelped with surprise and frustration. She whipped around to find herself brought up short against Ryan’s chest, made thick by the vest he wore.

  “Hey, they’re getting away,” she protested. The back door of the building banged shut behind the trio. A horrifying realization worked its way into her consciousness. “Georgina hadn’t been with Christina!”

  Where was she? Was she safe?

  The sounds of sirens announced their backup had arrived.

  Ryan pushed past her and barked out a command as he went. “Stay put.”

  He charged ahead, disappearing out the same back door that Christina and her posse had fled through.

  Two police officers raced toward her.

  “That way!” she instructed, waving in the direction Ryan had gone. “Hurry!”

  Breathing hard from adrenaline and fear, Meghan raced to the elevator. Cribs had gone to the building’s front door to greet the officers. She entered the elevator and pressed the button.

  “Miss Henry!” Cribs called out just as the elevator doors slid shut.

  Her mind worked through what had just happened. Shots had been fired. Christina and the two men had escaped. Ryan had gone after them. Georgina had to be still inside the building.

  She stepped out of the elevator onto the second floor landing. An apartment door to the right stood wide open. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air. Heart pounding in irregular beats, Meghan rushed forward even as dread sent icy tendrils curling down her spine.

  She stepped into the apartment. The coppery scent of blood assaulted her senses, triggering her gag reflex. A man’s body lay sprawled on the living room’s threadbare, ugly brown carpet. Dark ribbons of blood stained his once white shirt from what appeared to her untrained eye to be two bullet holes in his chest. Her own chest ached in an empathic response.

  Tearing her gaze away from the horror of the deceased man, she searched for any sign of Georgina. There were boxes full of passport folders, a computer and camera sitting on a scarred old table. A dirty kitchenette was at the other end of the room. The messy bedroom and bath were empty. Her gut clenched. Where was Georgina?

  “Miss Henry, we haven’t cleared the building yet. This is a crime scene. You gotta stay out of here.” Officer Cribs came to her side, trying to drag her away from the macabre sight.

  “
Georgina? Have you found her?” Meghan asked, panic making her voice reedy.

  “No. There’s no sign of the little girl,” Cribs answered, applying more pressure on her arm, compelling her to leave the apartment.

  In the dimly lit hallway, Meghan grabbed his shirtsleeve. “You have to find her. She has to be here, in the building, somewhere.”

  The panic gripping her took away all her composure. She could hardly think straight.

  He nodded. “We’ll search for her. But you must stay out of the way.”

  Frantic with worry and dread, Meghan forced herself to breathe to keep from hyperventilating. She had to find her. Where could Christina have taken Georgina?

  Meghan’s gaze landed on the door to the stairwell. Christina and accomplices had come through it on their way to escaping.

  Hoping against hope to find her sweet relative, Meghan yanked open the stairwell door and stepped inside. She peered over the railing, but saw no sign of the toddler on the descending or the ascending staircase.

  Nearly overwhelmed with disappointment and anguish, she went back to the first-floor landing. Her heart leaped into her throat as Ryan escorted Christina into the building with her hands cuffed behind her back.

  Ryan’s gaze, full of hope, met Meghan’s. Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she gave a negative shake of her head. His expression darkened, his jaw firming.

  Meghan stepped in front of Christina, blocking the path. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

  “You,” Christina ground out. “You’ve ruined everything.”

  “Please, Christina,” Meghan pleaded as Ryan handed Christina over to another NYPD officer’s custody. “Please, tell me where she is.”

  “Excuse us, ma’am,” the officers said.

  Ryan gently applied pressure at her elbow. She received the message loud and clear. The officers needed her to move out of the way so they could escort their suspect from the premises. She turned on him. “You can’t let her leave until she tells us where Georgina is.”