The Elizabeth McClaine Thriller Boxed Set

by Catherine Lea

  Ducking from the end of one stack of shelves to the next, Stacy was halfway back to the exit when she heard voices.

  “In here?” a guy asked.

  “In the computer room.” Caron’s voice, the sneaky snitch. Stacy had pegged her as a tattletale. Why didn’t she listen to her gut?

  When the two walked quickly past the end of the shelving, Stacy caught a glimpse of the same security guy, Caron right behind him, pointing. They exited toward the computer room so Stacy hurried to the door they’d just entered through and started toward the front door.

  “Hey, you!” The security guy.

  Stacy didn’t even turn around. She took to her heels, switching and stepping around people in the way, and heading for the front door. She shoved the door open, skipped down the steps, and turned left. A glance over her shoulder told her the security guy was right behind her. She picked up the pace, but she could hear his steps gaining on her. Surprised at his speed, she tucked her head down, turned left and sprinted down the street beside the library to find a plastic garbage bin on wheels positioned in the middle of the sidewalk. She slowed long enough to grab the handle and swing it around behind her. She heard the empty rumble as it hit the ground and rolled. She looked back to see the guard attempt a leap over it but his foot caught. He went down, hands first, but in seconds he was up again. She took off, zigzagging around a couple who were headed to their car, then crossed the street just as a car swung around the corner and slid to a stop with a blast of its horn. She spun around the front of the car and kept going, sprinting past parked cars and driveways, under trees, over a kid’s bicycle, and hurdling another fallen bin. When she looked back this time, the security guy was still there, cheeks flushed but still gaining.

  What the hell?

  She made a sharp right into a driveway, sprinted to the end and vaulted over a small fence into the back yard.

  A shoulder-height hedge all around—the only break, a small wooden gate leading into the rear section.

  On the porch behind her, a black dachshund startled into life with a howl. It tore down the steps and came after her, yipping. And now she could hear the guy’s footsteps pounding down the driveway.

  What to do?

  Then she spotted a ball. She ran toward the rear gate, scooping up the ball on the fly and throwing it over into the rear yard, then dived under the hedge, head down and rolled with her knees tucked up. The dog followed the trajectory of the ball with its eyes, little head going up with the rise, then falling with the ball. It raced to the back gate, barking. The second the security guy came barreling around the corner, the dog spun around and went for him, yipping and dancing. Ignoring the dog, he went straight to the back gate, both hands on it as he looked over, searching. Thinking he’d lost her, he bent with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. When he turned, his face was scarlet and squeezed in agony, sweat glistening on his forehead and forming dark patches under his arms and down his back.

  He trudged wearily back toward the driveway with his hands on his hips and his head tipped back, sucking in air. Soon as he’d disappeared around the corner of the house, Stacy rolled through the hedge into the neighboring yard and crept along the length of the hedge until she hit the sidewalk. Down the street, she could see him ambling back towards the library shaking his head.

  Thank God six months of sitting on her ass studying hadn’t diminished her fitness. She checked the time and crouched, waiting until the guy turned the corner.

  For now, she’d gotten what she came for. The trip to the library had probably pinpointed her position to the cops, but it got her some names. It wasn’t much. But it was a start.

  So she trotted back down the road, looked both ways, then headed back to the car.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  DAY TWO: 12:05 PM—ELIZABETH

  From the moment Elizabeth had put the phone down, she was in motion. She’d ended the call then immediately dialed Delaney, who answered on the second ring. She’d asked him what, exactly, had transpired during the interview with Nancy Pattrenko. After stalling a moment, obviously preferring not share any more information than he had to, he had informed her that Ms. Pattrenko had been “suspended from duty pending an investigation into her actions.”

  Elizabeth asked him if the woman was under arrest, to which he’d said, “Mrs. McClaine, Nancy Pattrenko is an officer of the law, and if there’s any hint of wrongdoing in her actions, believe me, she’ll feel the full force of the law.”

  “She took a child. Without permission; without authorization. How can you not see that as ‘wrongdoing’?”

  “Ms. Pattrenko has made a formal statement in which she claims that she took the child from a situation where she felt his welfare was compromised and removed him to a place of safety.”

  He sounded like a police procedural manual. A typical butt-covering stance the police take when defending their own, Elizabeth thought. But she wasn’t done.

  “Okay, so then she drove this ‘compromised’ child out to the middle of a backwater industrial area—why exactly?” Her voice had risen and her heart was racing. She didn’t care. She wanted answers.

  “She was being followed, Mrs. McClaine. As you well know—by Stacy May Charms. And at the time, the child’s safety was her primary concern. She acted in his best interests and has been released on her own recognizance.”

  “And what about the fact that Nancy Pattrenko is in a live-in relationship with Patricia Tomes, who happens to be a prison guard at the very prison Stacy was incarcerated in? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  The few seconds of silence on the line suggested the news had come as a surprise. If it had, he wasn’t rising to it, because he replied with, “Mrs. McClaine, I’ve questioned Ms. Pattrenko to my full satisfaction, and I’ve taken the appropriate action. Now if you don’t mind, I have a stack of paperwork to complete, and other cases to attend to. Good day.”

  And he’d hung up.

  Elizabeth slammed her phone down and grabbed her purse and coat, repeating to Penny that Nancy Pattrenko had been “suspended, pending an investigation into her actions.”

  Penny’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious? She basically abducted a child. Where’s the doubt?”

  Elizabeth shrugged into her coat and closed down her computer. “Tell me about it.”

  “So where are we going?”

  “I’m going to visit Nancy Pattrenko. Get me her address. The police might be happy with her explanation, but I’m not.”

  She followed Penny through to her desk, watching as she tapped out a query into the search engine, then said, “Here it is.” And wrote it down.

  “Thank you. I don’t know how long I’ll be. If anyone calls, tell them I’ll call them back tomorrow. What are you doing?” she asked as Penny shut down her computer and grabbed her own purse.

  “You don’t think I’m missing out on this, do you? Besides, who’s gonna navigate?”

  “My GPS,” Elizabeth had replied, but Penny was already standing at the door, waiting to lock up, saying, “We’ll take my car. And remind me to increase my personal injury insurance when we get back. I think I’m gonna need it.”

  Now, almost a half hour after entering the address into the GPS in Penny’s car, and following the indicated route, they turned into a narrow back street lined on either side with two-story single family homes, and slowed as they approached the address listed in the White Pages under Pattrenko, N. B.

  Elizabeth pointed to a pale green house across the street, a flower garden neatly tended along the front, love seat out on the porch. “There it is.”

  Penny pulled the car to the side of the road. “What are you going to say?”

  “Whatever comes up.”

  Elizabeth got out of the car, closed the door and crossed, following the small path that led up to the front door. A small placard next to a brass bell read: Beware: Cats on duty.

  Ignoring the bell, she rapped on the upper panel of the door and waited. Finally, a sha
dow appeared on the other side of the glass, and the lace curtain twitched momentarily aside. There was a moment’s hesitation, and the door opened.

  Nancy Pattrenko’s cheeks were flushed, her hair bedraggled, her eyes puffy. She stood in the doorway, staring her visitors down, until Elizabeth said, “May we come in?”

  The woman looked them both over. “What do you want?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “I got nothing to say to you,” she said and went to close the door.

  “And what about Patricia Tomes?” Elizabeth said, just as the door narrowed to the point of closing.

  A hollow silence followed, and the door opened again.

  Nancy cast a suspicious look over both women. “What about her?”

  “I believe you’re in a relationship with her.”

  For a second, Elizabeth thought she was about to slam the door in their faces. Instead, she widened the door, saying, “Wipe your feet. I just cleaned the place.” And stood back for them to enter.

  Penny followed Elizabeth inside to a neat living room, decorated in muted greens and pinks, floral sofa and two matching chairs, each with embroidered throw cushions positioned neatly on the seats. On a rough-sawn oak coffee table sat a glass vase of white tulips, the green of the stems blending perfectly with the surroundings.

  Nancy closed the door and returned to an armchair where she’d apparently been sitting reading a paperback novel, but remained standing, arms crossed in front of her, gripping her elbows.

  “What’s this about?”

  No offer for them to sit. It was obvious she didn’t want them there any longer than necessary.

  “Then it’s true that you and Patricia Tomes are in a relationship?”

  “What’s that got to do with you?” she asked, shooting a look at Penny as though the question was her fault.

  “It was you that took the picture of Tyler Charms, wasn’t it?” Elizabeth said—a statement rather than a question. It was a brave call—a guess at best, but even if she was wrong, she wanted to see the woman’s reaction to the idea.

  “What picture?”

  “The one outside his school. With a woman.”

  The sides of Nancy’s mouth pulled down and she shook her head, as though wondering where this was going. “So?”

  “Why did you take that picture? Who asked you to?”

  Again, her eyes went to Penny and back before she replied. “I took lots of photos of him. Trish asked me to. She said she wanted one for Stacy May Charms. She said it was like, a gift for her or something. I knew where he went to school. I’ve attended a couple of meetings between the social worker and the paternal grandmother. I didn’t see a problem.”

  “Don’t you think you should have reported it?”

  “Why? Trish is my life partner. I live with her. She asks me to do her a favor so she can do someone else a favor, you think I’m gonna make a federal case out of it?”

  The reasoning might have seemed sound under normal circumstances, but these circumstances were anything but normal. Elizabeth looked her straight in the eye and asked, “Did you know there was a threat on Stacy’s son’s life?”

  The woman’s face clouded over. Once again, her eyes shifted to Penny and back. “Who from?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Penny said. “So when you go driving off with the very child in question, without permission, it makes us kind of nervous.”

  Visibly shocked by the news, Nancy’s jaw dropped and she spread her hands. “I didn’t know there was a threat on his life. Who told you that? Why didn’t Delaney tell me there was a threat? I thought we were just waiting for Stacy May.”

  “Then why did you drive off with him?” This from Penny.

  She blinked a couple of times. “I, I just…”

  “Oh, c’mon,” Penny said, jabbing a finger at the woman. “You did it because that threat came from you.”

  Clearly horrified by the allegation, Nancy Pattrenko took a step back, both hands up. “I swear, I didn’t know anything about it. One minute everything was fine, next thing I look up and the officers are gone, Delaney’s gone, no sign of Kay. Tyler started rocking back and forth, smacking his head against the back of the chair over and over and saying, ‘Home, home.’ I’m thinking, ‘Holy crap, the kid’s gonna knock himself out.’ I tell him to stop, and next thing he’s howling. Everyone’s turning around looking at me like I’m trying to kill him. I called Detective Delaney. He didn’t answer. I didn’t know what was going on, so I said, ‘Okay, let’s go,’ and I took him.”

  Penny jabbed a finger at her, teeth clenched, lips peeled back like an angry dog, saying, “Listen, lady,” but Elizabeth cut her off, placing a restraining hand on her arm, holding it for a second.

  “Thank you, Penny. I’ll take it from here.” She waited for Penny to take a step back with a nod of surrender, then turned back to Nancy. “Who told you to take him all the way down East 55th?”

  Nancy stuck her hands on her hips. “No one. I got in the car, headed back to Tyler’s foster home, next thing there’s a police helicopter headed our way. I turned into Crayton Avenue. Soon as I got to an open space, I got out to wait for the police. That’s when I saw Stacy May running at us. I thought she was gonna attack me.”

  “And Trish Tomes didn’t tell you to take him anywhere?”

  The shocked expression on Nancy’s face said it all. “Hell, no. Why would she?”

  “But you did tell her about the setup? The sting to catch Stacy May using Tyler as bait.”

  Nancy hesitated a moment, considering the charge. “Well, I wouldn’t say he was used as bait.”

  “You told her, or you didn’t.”

  Breaking eye contact, Nancy chewed her upper lip before answering. “Maybe … I guess. You know, you talk. She’s my partner.”

  “And you didn’t think it might be a breach of that child’s privacy?”

  Nancy Pattrenko’s expression sharpened. “Trish is my wife. I talk to her. I can’t see what any of this has to do with her, anyway.” She folded her arms, defensive now, eyes darting from Elizabeth to Penny and back.

  Elizabeth didn’t see any point in pushing it. “Where’s Patricia Tomes now?”

  Her arms tightened across her chest and her head dropped briefly. “I don’t know.”

  Penny leaned in, one hand on her hip. “Oh, come on. Let’s cut the bullshit here.” When she got a sharp look from Elizabeth, she said, “Seriously? You think she has no idea?”

  “I’m telling you I don’t know, okay? She didn’t come home last night. She texted me from work, said she was doing another shift. That was at two this morning. Nine o’clock, I tried calling her because the graveyard shift finishes at eight and she still wasn’t home.” She dashed a knuckle across the end of her nose and dropped her gaze momentarily to the floor.

  “Wait a second, are you saying she sent you a text from the prison before her shift ended?”

  “So?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “She couldn’t have texted from the prison. They have a system built in that blocks all cell phone usage. You can’t call; you can’t send or receive texts—you should know that. But you got a text from her while you were at McDonald’s, didn’t you?”

  Elizabeth could see by the look on the woman’s face she was right.

  “That’s why you didn’t notice Kay leave to go to the bathroom. You were too busy texting back to see when she’d be home.”

  Nancy raised both palms to the ceiling. “I wanted to know where she was. She should have been home hours ago. I’ve texted her, tried calling her, but nothing. I even called into Central to see if there’ve been any traffic accidents. Nothing, zilch, nada. Her last text just said not to worry, that she’d be late again. But I am worried. She usually calls.”

  “Has she done this before—worked late and not come home?”

  “Some.” She shrugged, as though it wasn’t of any importance.

  “And you didn’t tell Delaney any of t
his?”

  “Why would I? Trish hasn’t been missing twenty-four hours. He’d tell me she’d got a flat tire or something. He’d say if she’s still not home tomorrow, report it then. It’s standard procedure. And besides…”

  “And besides what?” Penny said.

  Nancy regarded them both, then shuffled from one foot to the other. “She’s been … I dunno, different lately. Kind of distant. Coming home late; all tears one minute, then angry and yelling the next. She said it’s all about work, but I thought…” A shrug.

  “You thought she was seeing someone else.”

  A long silence followed. Nancy dropped her gaze as her face puckered. She pressed a palm to one eye, swiped it away, then looked up at the ceiling, swallowing hard before nodding. “I thought that’s what was going on. All of a sudden she’s buying new clothes, running up her credit cards on gadgets. She got a new car. She didn’t even need a new car.”

  “And you didn’t tell Delaney any of this?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Like I said, why would I?”

  “Does he know you and Trish are a couple?” Penny asked.

  Nancy dropped her head and looked away, no reply. None needed.

  Penny let out a deep sigh and looked to Elizabeth. “So where was Trish Tomes when she sent that last text if she wasn’t at work?”

  “Do you have any idea?” Elizabeth asked Nancy.

  “I don’t know where Trish is,” she said. An expectant silence hung in the air, then she said, “But I might know where her car is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DAY TWO: 12:45 PM—STACY

  The needle on the gas gauge was pointing to the red zone just past empty. Curta’s car was old—no indicator to tell her how many miles she had left. Stacy guessed whatever gas she had wasn’t going to get her far. Leaning across into the passenger’s footwell, she located the phone and turned it on—one bar on the battery indicator. She had to be quick.

  She opened the internet browser and the phone scanned, searching for connectivity. When the home page showed on the screen, she tapped in the URL for the White Pages and did a search on Maryanne Louise Crane-Thorpe. The page opened, but the phone bleeped twice and the screen went black.