by James, Ed
“Our nanny. Look. She wasn’t giving my son enough attention.”
“You got any reason to suspect her involvement in this?”
Jennifer inspected a long fingernail like she was going to chew on it. “I have every reason.”
* * *
20:15
In the park next door, a figure stood beneath the tree, shrouded in cigarette smoke. Long dark hair tied up. Jeans, hooded sweater, hipster tennis shoes.
Carter approached her. “Is it Rosita?”
“Rosita Villalobos. My parents are from Colombia.” Smoke wisped out of her nostrils. “Wondered how long it’d take them to blame the immigrant help.”
“They’re blaming everyone, Rosita. Someone’s taken their kid. It’s natural.” Carter paused. “Unless there’s something you want to tell me?”
One final puff and she stubbed her half-smoked cigarette against the wall and put it back in the pack. “I need this job. I love that boy like he’s my own.”
That set off alarm bells in Carter’s head. “Oh?”
“This tree…” She waved up at the branches, glowing bright white. “I told Mr. Bartlett to chop it down. He said he’s been trying but the city owns the tree. I said he should cut the branches at the wall. He never did anything about it. That has to be how they got in.”
“You see anyone climb over it?”
“No.”
“Know of any cameras pointing at it?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But… There might be some I’m not aware of. Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett have trust issues.”
Carter smiled at that. Any parent would have trust issues in their situation. Just how far did it spread? “Okay. How about you and I have a little chat?”
* * *
20:18
Rosita slumped into the chair Jennifer had been in, already filling the room with the smell of stale cigarette smoke. “I just had a coffee, so I’m good.”
“Okay.” Carter set up the video camera and set it running, but he decided to stay standing. “Okay, Rosita, tell me exactly what happened tonight.”
She took a deep breath and started playing with her pack of cigarettes. Didn’t take one out, though. “I put Ky down for the night. Kid hasn’t been well, so it was a relief to get him to sleep. Then I went outside for a smoke.”
“And then?”
“Then I was going to watch TV.”
“Downstairs?”
“Right. They have this baby monitor that’s super-detailed—it’s like you’re at the movies. And I check in on him every thirty minutes, in person. Trouble is, it’s not just me that can check it. As soon as she left, Mrs. Bartlett was calling me, giving me a hard time for not sitting in the room with him while he slept. Then she came home early.” Her nostrils flared wide. “And she found… Ky was missing.”
Another pause, but Carter didn’t fill it for her.
“I blame myself for this. I shouldn’t have left him alone for one second.” Rosita rubbed at her nose. “But I’m exhausted. I needed some off time.”
“Anyone else in the house tonight?”
“I was alone.” She didn’t seem too sure about that. Carter’s silence drove her on. “Last week, Mrs. Bartlett told me to take the night off, said she was going to look after her son for the night, so I… arranged to see someone.” She paused, but left the thread dangling.
“Romantically?”
Rosita nodded. “But then Mr. Bartlett ordered her to attend this dinner, so I had to change my plans.”
“I need to speak to this friend.”
Red blushed in her cheeks. “It was a Tinder date.” Meaning a hook-up at his place. “I don’t even know his real name yet. He certainly doesn’t know mine.”
Carter made a note of it, but it wasn’t likely to lead anywhere. Still worth ten minutes of an agent’s time to check. “Tell me about Ky, then.”
“What’s there to tell?”
“You said you love the kid like he’s your own. That feels a lot to me like a motive for someone to take him.”
Her eyes and mouth opened wide.
“Say you get this Tinder date to take the kid, stash him someplace. Wait for the Bartletts to fire you, then you’ve got a baby.”
“How can you think that?”
“It’s my job to think those things. Tell me everything. Now.”
“Ky is barely sleeping right now. I was up all night with him last night.” The tough-girl act slipped, revealing someone who was tired to the point of exhaustion. “Ky sleeps for two hours every night, usually around six o’clock. Then I have to stay up with him through the night, cuddling him. It’s the only thing that seems to help.”
Carter nodded along to the beat of her words. “My daughter had colic just after she was born. It’s exhausting. I could barely function.”
“I tell them to go to the doctor in case it’s something bad, but Mrs. Bartlett… She’s into all this alternative medicine. I tell her it’s colic, but she’s trying to cure it with other things. No amount of crystals or asking the universe or detox fasting diets will help with colic.”
“She was starving him?”
“No, I was joking. I feed him. Formula. He’s a healthy boy, other than the colic. We have emergencies and worries like with every child, but Ky was in good health otherwise.”
“How long have you been here, Rosita?”
A long slow breath. “Five weeks.”
That jarred with Carter. “Ky’s six weeks old, though?”
“Right. Usually I arrive a month before birth to help the mother through the last stages of the pregnancy. I have a system. It works. But I didn’t have the time here, so I’ve been playing catch-up ever since. This is the toughest yet.”
“You know what happened when Ky came home from the hospital?”
“They don’t talk about it.”
“Are you hiding something from me?”
Rosita glanced over at the door and her nose puckered. “In my opinion, Mrs. Bartlett is struggling with motherhood. Happens a lot with these entitled women. They like the idea, but the reality is very different.”
“And you know the reality?”
Rosita stared hard at him. “After my mom died, I had to raise my brother and my kid sister. Papa worked three jobs, so I was Mom from the age of twelve. Nando was five, Isabella was two. When they were old enough, I started doing this for a living. These rich people pay well and I’ve raised five kids, all until the age of two. Then I move on to another client and do the same.”
“Why the cutoff?”
“The first mother, she thought her kid was bonding with me too much and she kicked me out, so I decided to capitalize on that, make it my thing.” She stared into space. “Ky is sixth and he was to be my last.”
“Why?”
“I was planning to enroll in college the year after next. I’ve been saving.”
“What are you going to study?”
“Law. If I can get a degree, I can get a place at my cousin’s firm in Albuquerque. Escape this city, and never look back.” Her gaze locked on to him. “Will you find him?”
“I hope to.” Carter didn’t have much. Clear tension between mother and nanny, but that was to be expected. Nothing Rosita did would ever be good enough.
And Rosita didn’t seem to respect a mother who got someone else to raise her baby, even if it lined her pockets. Could that mindset stretch to taking the kid? He didn’t know.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett… I hear them talk about this girl, but I don’t know what happened to her. Maybe they had another nanny and she didn’t work out.”
“You hear a name?”
“Sorry. It’s just stuff I overheard. There might not be another nanny. Maybe Jennifer wanted to look after the baby herself, but she found it all too much.”
* * *
20:24
Carter found Elisha out on the street, playing with her cell phone like she was stuck on a tricky Candy Crush level. “Getting anywhere?”
She lo
oked up from her cell. “Rich neighborhood—the kind where nobody’s talking without lawyers.”
“Figures. Anything more about this woman at the bus stop?”
“Drawing a blank so far.” Elisha raised both eyebrows. “How’d it go with the nanny?”
“Don’t know. Jennifer seems mighty pissed with her.” Carter didn’t have much of anything. Perfectly plausible she could be involved, but it somehow felt too obvious. “You hear anything about another nanny? One that maybe didn’t work out?”
“News to me.”
“Probably nothing, then.” Carter ran his hand through his hair, thinking it through. “I’m open to anything here. Like the baby died and they’re all covering up. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Elisha seemed to consider it. “No signs of a struggle in the house, though. Forensics are going through the crib, but there are no blood traces or trails.”
“What about a sudden death and they couldn’t accept it?”
“Or the nanny murdered him.”
“I have thought she’d have a motive to take him.”
“Because the Bartletts are loaded?”
Carter nodded, then let her logic play out.
She pointed back at the home. “Landon’s loaded, though. Sold a company for a couple hundred million. This place still only cost them seven million.”
“Only.”
Elisha rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m saying. Take away taxes and long-term investments, and he still has access to millions in liquid cash.”
“Do me a favor and dig into their financial records. Any unusual withdrawals. Or there could be a pattern of cash withdrawals. Could be an asset liquidation, some sign they’ve got hold of a ton of cash in a hurry, and don’t have it anymore. Or are in the process of obtaining it.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It’s important fun.”
Elisha fixed him with a hard stare. “You mean blackmail?”
“Jennifer wasn’t aware of any threats. Has anyone spoken to the father?”
“He isn’t taking this well. Punching walls and screaming. His brother’s trying to calm him down.”
“Well, I think we can rule out direct parental kidnapping. They were both at the foundation’s launch when it happened. Hundreds of witnesses there. Could be someone working for either of them, though.”
“No reports of anyone lurking on the street up there.” Elisha read something on her cell and pocketed it again. “That park next door has a shrine to that Cole Delaney dude. Usually a bunch of kids hanging out. None of them are speaking.”
“Suspicious?”
“Just teenagers.”
The mobile command center door clattered open and Tyler peered out. He waved over to Elisha.
“I’ll be back real quick.” She jogged over, but Carter followed, meeting them halfway. “What’s up?”
“Following up on that tip-off up on Thirty-Ninth.” Tyler held out a tablet computer. “A bus on Madison has a surveillance camera.”
Carter snatched it from him. Even in this day and age, the image quality was terrible. The screen showed a woman hugging a baby. It jerked into motion and she stepped onto a bus. Hard to tell the color of the long ponytail sticking out the back of her baseball cap, but it could be blonde. Leather jacket. And sunglasses at night.
Carter passed the tablet to Elisha. “Did she get on?”
“Not on that bus.”
“This could pass for Rosita.” Elisha nodded slowly. “Could pass for me, as well.” She looked over at Tyler. “This is the best you’ve got?”
“Hey, this is the land of the free. Be thankful you got that.”
Carter stared back at the house. The upstairs nursery was visible from down here. “Any luck with the nursery video camera?”
“Just logging in when that came through.”
Elisha handed him the tablet. “Come, let’s get back to it.” She led Tyler back over in a cloud of buzzwords.
All they had was a woman with a baby, or someone presenting as a woman. Near a bus stop. Who might or might not have Ky. Could be entirely innocent. Or it could be entirely guilty.
Carter climbed the steps to the command center, smelling the bitter aroma of coffee. Boy did he need caffeine. Tyler and Elisha were already working, hunched around a laptop like two teenagers laughing at someone’s Facebook profile. Both had cups, so he just poured himself one.
Tyler waved him over. “Sir!”
Carter walked over, sipping lukewarm drip coffee.
On the screen, a video played showing the crib. Someone put Ky down to sleep. Stripy, long-sleeved arms. Then the kid lay there, the clock winding as Tyler clicked along the timeline.
Carter finished the coffee in one go. “That’s Rosita, right?”
“I think so.” Tyler set it far along to the right. The clock read 18:46, and the same arms reached in to take the baby. “This is the last sighting of Ky.”
Carter rested his empty cup on the desk. “So the nanny took him?”
“Or at least appeared to.” Tyler took the laptop back. “I haven’t got anything since.”
Carter stared hard at it. Blue jeans in the background, a good match for Rosita’s. He looked over at Elisha. “Can you take another pass at Rosita, please? Tear her story apart. Whole nine yards.”
“Sure. You joining me?”
“No. It’s high time I spoke to Landon. Can’t shake the feeling he’s avoiding us.”
“Once bitten, twice shy?”
“Something like that.” Carter gritted his teeth. “I want to know where the hell he’s been this evening.”
Eleven
CHASE
20:25
Chase stayed near his brother, but he couldn’t take it anymore. So many cops around that Chase had to speak in a low voice. “What did Zangiev say to you earlier tonight?”
Landon leaned against the wall, fingers twitching. “What?”
“I saw him talking to you at the dinner. When we got back here, one of his guys was sitting outside.”
“You’re talking horseshit.”
“It was Edwards. Why was he here?”
“It’s just business. You wouldn’t understand.”
“You can tell me anything. I want to help.”
Landon swallowed hard. “Bro, cut it out.”
Chase waited, but all he got was more rage, more nervous glances at the cops. “Did Zangiev threaten you?”
“That’s none of your goddamned business!” Landon looked around in case anyone overheard his shout. “Shut up about this. Okay?”
“He threatened to take Ky, didn’t he?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Landon’s voice was a hiss.
“Fine.” Chase eased himself away, wary of Landon grabbing him. “Boris Zangiev is real bad news—”
“How do you know his name, huh? How do you recognize Edwards?”
“Because Zangiev was an early investor in my company. Edwards used to show up every now and then to—”
“Quit acting like a douchebag.” Landon was standing in a fighting stance. “Busting my ass about Zangiev? Makes me think you might be to blame for Ky going missing.”
“What?” Chase clenched his fists. “How could you even think that?”
Landon stepped forward and got in Chase’s face again. “Doofus, you’re not even denying—”
Chase cracked him one, his fist smacking against Landon’s cheekbone. Landon tumbled back against the wall. A jolt of pain shot up Chase’s arm. Felt like he’d broken his hand. God knows what Landon’s mouth would feel like.
But he was on his feet again, reaching for Chase, wrapping a bulky forearm tight around his throat.
Chase struggled, fighting against his brother’s grip. “Get off!” His shout was more of a gurgle. He tried to move, tried to wriggle free, tried to get some angle—a free elbow, fist, knee, foot, anything—but he was held fast. “Get off!” He fought through the pain and lashed out with his foot
, unbalancing Landon. Another kick and Landon fell, but he used his weight and momentum to fall right on Chase, sharp elbow crunching against his ribs. Instinct guided his hands to Landon’s wrists, wrapping them around his back, flipping him over and pushing his arm up his back.
Cops swarmed around them, grabbing arms and legs. Fingers tugged at Chase but he kept his position, dominating his brother. Then let go.
A pair of cops walked Landon away. He looked like he wanted to go again.
Chase rubbed at his throat. Felt like Landon had popped his Adam’s apple or something.
An agent stood there. Big guy, muscular and good-looking. Looked like a real asshole. “Who are you?”
“Chase Bartlett.” He raised his hands and gestured at Landon, but it hurt real bad. “I’m his brother. Ky’s my nephew.”
“You okay?”
Chase looked around. About twenty cops, all watching him and Landon fighting like teenagers. “Who’re you?”
“Special Agent Max Carter. I lead the FBI’s Child Abduction Rapid Deployment Unit.”
“You’re in charge?” Landon stormed over, aiming right for him. “Have you found my son?”
“We’re working on it, sir.” Carter stood up tall and fixed a hard stare at Landon. Thought he was a real hard-ass. “You cool?”
“Of course I’m cool. Have you found my goddamn son yet?”
“Need a word with you. Both of you.”
* * *
20:28
Carter stayed by the door. “Take a seat and try not to attempt to kill each other again.”
They were in an interrogation suite. Could be in a police precinct, but it was on the back of a ten-wheeler.
Chase tried to pull back a chair, but the thing was bolted to the ground. He sat, but his legs felt hemmed in. His hand burned.
Landon stayed standing, sniffing impatiently. “Is this being recorded?”
“That’s your first concern?” Carter sat opposite Chase and held out a tablet computer, the screen facing them. “Do either of you recognize this woman?”