“I assume his survival instincts have kicked in by now. That’s probably why he was okay finding his own dinner but balked when you kids tried to feed him. He still remembered his poison-proofing training.”
“Hey! I didn’t poison him. He was fine the last time I saw him. He just keeps running off, that’s all.”
Reed straightened, noting that Kiera and Abigail were lingering nearby. “So, where is he now?”
The skinny shoulders shrugged, then slumped. “Beats me. One day he’s with me and the next he’s gone. Nobody saw him go so I didn’t know where to look besides around here.” He sniffled. “Some stupid tourist probably took him.”
“Tell me more about the guy you got him from in the first place? Can you remember what he looked like?” It was hard to keep from sounding too excited, given that there was a chance the boy had seen Jordan’s killer.
“Sort of, I guess.” Dominic’s head bobbed up and down, his forehead knitting. “He was just a regular guy. Old, like you.”
Reed snorted. “Got it. Do you think you could help a sketch artist draw his picture?”
“I might. What’s in it for me?”
Fine, Reed thought, more than ready to barter. “Food. As much as you want for as long as these concessions stay open tonight. My treat.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I’m going to radio my headquarters with a report and ask an artist to meet us down here. That way you won’t have to ride in a police car.” And I won’t have to jump through so many technical, legal hoops, he added to himself.
Abigail would probably volunteer to help, too, Reed reasoned, making the boardwalk a perfect place to debrief the boy. If Dom kept playing it straight with the adults, Reed intended to feed him until he couldn’t hold another bite.
Vanderbilt Parkway. Reed figured he’d never hear that name without remembering the shock they’d all felt when Jordy’s body had been found. Images of that body were branded in Reed’s brain as if made by a hot iron of sorrow.
God willing, the face of Jordy’s possible killer held as firm a grip on the mind of the wiry teen. Dominic Walenski might be the only witness who could provide clues to the elusive murderer. No way was Reed letting him out of his sight until he had more answers.
* * *
Abigail spotted Dom when she caught sight of Reed. Jessie had done it! It took a monumental effort to stay where she was and make Kiera wait for Reed to finish talking to the boy.
A wave of Reed’s arm and the helpful actions of other officers dispersed the crowd. Jessie was practically dancing, her tail up, her ears flapping and a knotted section of damp rope clamped between her teeth as her reward for a job well done. Reed, on the other hand, seemed almost morose. If the two teens hadn’t been so close by, she would have immediately asked him why he wasn’t as happy as everybody else, including his K-9.
Nevertheless, Abigail flashed a grin. Kiera might not have forgiven her for the chastisement over making a false police report, but she cared enough about Dominic to stick around. Good. One step at a time.
Despite the sour look Kiera got from the boy, Abigail continued to smile. “Good job, Jessie.” She patted the broad, tan head, dodging the frayed end of the dog’s reward toy before her gaze rose to meet Reed’s and she added, “You, too, Officer Branson.”
“Thanks.” Although his expression remained sober, he did nod politely. “Dominic and I are going to go grab a late supper before the concessions close. You’re invited.”
“Thanks.” Including Kiera seemed logical and smart, so Abigail looped an arm around each teen’s shoulders and guided them toward the boardwalk. She didn’t have to look back to know Reed and Jessie were following closely, because every second or third stride, the soggy rope brushed against her calf.
The kids were casting surreptitious glances at each other, clearly wishing a counselor was not walking between them. Well, tough. The thought of combining her efforts and Reed’s gave Abigail hope of soothing tempers and learning more. All they had to do was foster a relaxed atmosphere and let these young people be themselves. Given their tenuous position as runaways and the way they viewed authority figures as the enemy, she and Reed had their work cut out for them.
She positioned herself on the outside of a small picnic table fronting a food stand and gestured to the teens. “Grab a seat, guys.”
The look she got from Reed as he and his K-9 joined them was one of approval. Thanks to her, they were positioned to head off a dash to escape as well as clearly see each of the kids’ faces. She gave him a smile. “I’ll have one of their famous special hot dogs and a small soda.”
He handed her the looped end of Jessie’s leash, his gaze shifting from the dog to the teens as if reminding them it would be useless to try to run away. “What about the two of you? The same? I can always go back for seconds.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dominic said. Kiera nodded.
Abigail suspected that Jessie wouldn’t do a thing about chasing anybody unless Reed gave her that specific command, but she pretended otherwise, grasping the leash tightly and acting as if she were the only reason the sweet bloodhound wasn’t snarling and behaving like an attack dog. The ruse worked well enough that the teens seated across the table hardly moved a muscle.
Reed was back with their meal in minutes. He doled it out, reclaimed his K-9, then slid onto the bench closest to Dominic. “Okay. Eat. Then we’ll talk.”
Less hungry than she was curious, Abigail concentrated mostly on her companions. Reed remained tense. Kiera seemed relieved. The boy, though clearly starved and willing to eat, maintained a wary demeanor that she found strange. Of course, none of the kids was particularly fond of law enforcement because they were often apprehended and forced back into a system that, although designed to keep them safe and well, could easily fail. She knew that and clearly so did Reed, or he would have placed Dominic in official custody.
“I told you all I know,” the boy muttered with his mouth half full.
“So, you said.” Reed looked at Kiera. “What about you? Any chance you saw the guy who gave him Snapper?”
“Not me. I’ve been here all summer. Dom’s kinda new.”
“Is that why you lied to get us to come look for him?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Abigail saw the boy shoot Kiera a troubled glance. “You did this?” He muttered under his breath.
“Well, somebody had to,” the girl replied. “We were worried about you.”
“So you called the cops?” He was clearly annoyed. “Did you want ’em to arrest me for stealing the dog?”
“No, no!” Kiera insisted. Her meal was forgotten as she reached for his thin arm. “I didn’t tell anybody about Snapper until they figured it out themselves.” She began to smile as if enjoying a private joke. “I told ’em you’d been kidnapped.”
Dom jumped back so forcefully he almost toppled off the bench. “You what?”
“It’s okay. They know it was a fib. I just wanted to make them take me seriously and come look for you.”
Expecting an explosion of angry words, Abigail was astounded to see the wiry teen overcome with what looked like fear. His hands gripped the edge of the table. His complexion blanched. His dark eyes widened and glistened as if he might be about to cry. His jaw dropped but no sound came out.
The instant she turned and looked at Reed’s face, she knew that something crucial was happening. She just didn’t know what it was. Or how to help.
* * *
Reed waited as he watched the boy’s emotional upheaval. It was clear Dominic was hiding something, and although it probably didn’t have anything to do with Jordy’s murder, it was evidently frightening. Kiera had inadvertently scared the socks off her younger friend and it was Reed’s duty to get past his facade of street courage and pull the details out of him.
And protect him, Reed adde
d to himself. That kid was scared speechless. Biding his time, he took a bite of the hot dog he’d bought for himself, noting that he was the only one still eating. The girl looked confused, Abigail was obviously puzzled, and Dominic acted as if he was about to be sentenced to death row. Anything that serious called for finesse.
“You do know you’re safe sitting here with me, right?” Reed said casually.
Dom was staring into the distance, his eyes shining, reflecting the overhead lights. When he shook his head, the spots of color glimmered.
“That’s why I’m sticking with Officer Branson,” Abigail explained.
When Kiera gave a derisive snort, Dominic’s head snapped around. His expression was so poignant the girl shrugged and asked, “What?”
“Nothing.” He was staring at his food but had stopped eating.
“Hmm.” Reed took another bite, then washed it down with his own soda before concentrating on Kiera. “That was pretty smart of you to mention kidnapping. What gave you the idea?”
“Like I said, I wanted you cops to pay attention.”
“Well, it worked.” He paused. “So, why is your friend so mad at you? You must have some idea.”
“Naw.” She folded her arms in an expression of defense. “I don’t have a clue. Maybe he’s just a big baby.”
“I am not!” marked the boy’s return to the conversation.
Kiera shrugged. “Whatever.”
Silence followed. Reed watched and waited. Both young people were fidgeting, making him wonder if their angst was for the same reason or if each had a separate secret. Dominic seemed unduly upset about Kiera’s subterfuge while the girl was acting clueless. Either she was a great actress or she truly didn’t know why her friend was so angry.
Suddenly, Kiera gaped. She stared at the boy as if willing him to explain. But what? What had passed between the two runaways that he had missed? A quick glance at Abigail’s frown told him she was as confused as he was.
Dominic gave a barely perceptible nod. That led to Kiera’s exclamation of, “No!” followed by a grab at his hand. The boy’s brown eyes filled with tears. His nod continued, gaining strength until his mop of dark hair flopped forward, masking the upper half of his face.
Whisperings between the two young people were lost in the noise of the crowds near the concession tables. Reed though he’d managed to pick out a few key words but there was no way to grasp the full meaning of the exchange without more detail. He did know that Kiera was now apparently as frightened as Dom, which might help once there was an actual crime to investigate.
“You can’t stay here anymore,” Kiera said flatly before switching to address the adults, particularly Reed. “You have to put him in protective custody.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “I think you watch too much television. Protective custody is only for innocent victims who can prove they are really in danger.”
Kiera was on her feet in a flash. She grabbed Dominic’s arm, jerked him off the bench and started to drag him away.
The boy didn’t protest verbally but he did make a grab for his soda cup.
“Leave it,” Kiera shouted. “We’re out of here!”
FOURTEEN
Abigail was so startled she almost tumbled backward off the bench. When she regained her balance and looked over at Reed, he and Jessie were already on the move.
They zigzagged between tables, cleared the edge of the red-and-yellow canvas awning and disappeared among the milling vacationers and locals. There was no way she’d be able to catch any of them at this point, so she cleared off the table, dumped their trash and paced, waiting for one or more of her former companions to return.
An overview of people nearby proved unproductive. Not only was there no sign of Kiera’s close friends, Abigail didn’t spot any of the kids who were regulars at AFS, either. A few young adult males did look slightly familiar, however. That was a bit of a surprise. Most of the kids who aged out of the state foster care program, as well as her privately funded one, could hardly wait to leave the area once they turned eighteen. It never ceased to amaze her that many of them who could have signed on to stay in the system longer failed to do so. Not only would it have helped them find a good job, they would have had support.
“I should know about poor choices,” she murmured to herself. In her day, she’d almost let her pride cause her to miss a chance to get a higher education. Thankfully, the part-time job she’d been directed toward in her mid-teens had led to meeting mentors who had helped her turn her life around. Now she was dedicated to doing the same for others, like Kiera and Dominic.
Speaking of which... Reed’s height helped her spot him before she could see who was by his side. Sadly, Kiera wasn’t with Dominic any more. Oh, well, of the two, the boy was undoubtedly more in need of aid than the more street savvy girl was.
The crowd didn’t exactly part for the police officer the way the Red Sea had for Moses in biblical times, but Reed’s strength of presence seemed to cause quite a few human obstacles to give ground.
Dominic came into full view. Abigail studied his face, his body language. At first, he seemed resigned, then tense, then quickly scared to death. As far as she could tell, nothing about their surroundings had changed, yet the boy was obviously affected negatively.
She stepped close to Reed as soon as he’d cleared the throng. “Something is very wrong.”
“Yeah. I lost your girl.”
“No, no. That’s not what I mean.” Abigail cupped a hand around her mouth and stood on tiptoe to explain as privately as possible. “It’s not Kiera I’m worried about right now, it’s this one. You couldn’t see the funny look that just came over him but I could. He’s terrified. We need to get him away from here.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes. I’ll take responsibility. We need to go someplace quiet and safe. ASAP.”
“All right. If you say so.”
She fell into step on the opposite side of the boy, consciously guarding him. Until this second, she’d been so worried about Dominic and Kiera, she’d forgotten the bit of lost memory she’d uncovered.
“By the way,” Abigail said, “waiting for you I had a surprising flash of insight into the men who grabbed me. One was masked to begin with. He had a round face and big, rough hands. The other one wasn’t quite as large, the way I first thought. He had a face like a weasel and I think he was younger. I know he was skinnier.”
To her delight, Reed looked pleased. “Wonderful. Let’s go back to my car and wait for the sketch artist. You can make use of him after our friend here is done.”
“I—I’m not sure I remember their faces that well,” she hedged. “It’s one thing to get an overall impression of them and altogether different to be able to pick out individual characteristics.”
“At least you can give it a try. Right?”
She cast a sidelong glance at Dominic, ruing her thoughtless comments and hoping he wasn’t going to adopt the same defeatist attitude regarding the man who had given him Snapper. It was too late to take back her candid remarks, but she might be able to counteract their deleterious effect.
“Of course I’ll try. And once I’ve started to see the faces develop, I’ll be able to make adjustments to get them just right.”
“That’s the spirit,” Reed said. Although his voice sounded pleasant and enthusiastic, Abigail could tell his speech was as much for the boy’s sake as hers had been. They both knew they were walking a tightrope here, balancing between what the law allowed and what her office could do. The main goal was, as always, the ultimate well-being of the street kids. She knew from experience that many of them were repeat runaways and would take off again the minute they felt threatened or abused or simply didn’t like listening to parental-type authority figures.
She intended to treat Dominic equitably, yet she wasn’t above giving him more leeway than
usual if doing so led to the arrest of criminals and the solving of crimes.
One thing was certain. The German shepherd the youngster had been given was crucially important to Reed. If she was putting the pieces of this story together correctly, the person Dominic had met when he’d accepted Snapper could be connected to the untimely demise of Reed’s boss, Snapper’s former handler.
That wasn’t simple dog-napping.
That was murder.
* * *
As soon as he had convinced Dominic that he wasn’t under arrest and had talked him into climbing into the SUV, it was easy to load Abigail and his K-9. Reed radioed headquarters and explained his change of plans. He didn’t want to panic the kid more than he already was, so he refrained from giving specific reasons for the relocation of the rendezvous with the police artist. Now that he’d had time to observe the Walenski boy more carefully, he agreed with Abigail. Something besides being with a cop had the kid spooked. Judging by the way he kept peering out of the windows and scanning the passing crowd, he was plenty scared of whoever he thought was out there.
It occurred to Reed to put Jessie in the back seat with Dom, and he would have if not for the artist’s imminent arrival. With the AC running and everybody safe, he waited outside his vehicle, ready to flag down whichever artist showed up.
As he saw an approaching patrol unit slowing, he raised his hand to wave. The car pulled up beside his, hazard lights blinking. Reed reached to hold the passenger door as it opened and was pleasantly surprised to see the unit’s ace tech guru, curly-haired, blonde Danielle Abbott, step out.
“Danielle! I assumed Joey Calderone would be assigned. Are you acting as my sketch artist tonight?” Danielle was not only a tech genius, she was also incredibly talented at digital art, particularly faces, and sometimes acted as a backup for Calderone.
She pushed her large, round-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose with one finger. “Sure am.” Handing him her laptop and a red tote filled to bursting with who knew what, she flashed a wide grin. “Calderone was out of town so I volunteered. I’ve been dying to try my new face-building program in the field.”
Trail of Danger Page 12
