After my unplanned tour of long and short term parking at Lambert Field, I hopped off the bus and asked for help at an information booth. My second attempt proved more successful. And so, only an hour after my plane had landed (ha!), I climbed into a freezing rental car. The smell and feel of the upholstery reminded me of two things I had left behind: toasted ravioli and ice storms.
I’d planned to go directly to Time in a Bottle, Kiki’s store, but my fingers turned numb from the cold of the steering wheel. Seemed that a quick trip to Target was in order. There I treated myself to a whirlwind shopping tour, buying a pair of Thinsulate lined leather gloves in black, a fuzzy knit cap in purple, and a matching scarf in purple, black, and white. In a rounder at the back of the women’s section, I discovered a black jacket with faux leather trim. When I pointed out a rip in the seam under the arms, the clerk called over a manager who discounted the item.
Now I was ready to take on “the Lou.”
My face hurt from smiling by the time I pulled into the parking lot at Time in a Bottle. Rather than chance waiting outside the back door, I went through the front, the same as any customer might do.
“Hello? Guess who just flew in from Florida?” I yelled.
“Oh, Cara, it’s so good to see you.” Kiki hurried over to greet me. Her hug was extra strong, as if she were holding on to me to keep herself upright. A few curious scrapbookers glanced up from their work, but not for long.
“Nothing could keep me away. Except ice storms in Charlotte,” I said, relaxing into the warmth of Kiki’s embrace. “I’m sorry I missed the naming ceremony, but I’m here now. When do I get to hold my godson?”
“Welcome back, Cara,” said a deeply masculine voice. Chad Detweiler stepped forward to show off the new addition to the Lowenstein-Detweiler family. The tall detective cautiously tilted the bundle so I could meet Tyler George Lowenstein Detweiler, live and in person. What a thrill! Two bright blue eyes blinked up at me from a red and wrinkled face. Ty’s rosebud lips puckered and quivered. The sweet scent of baby powder wafted up from the tiny package.
“Hello, little lamb,” I said, taking the newborn gently from his daddy.
Ty responded by puckering and pursing his lips. A tiny mewling sound escaped. That little mouth started working overtime. I recognized the signs. “Kiki? Somebody’s hungry. I’m a poor substitute for your mommy, aren’t I?”
“One milkshake coming up. How about if we go into the office?”
“What about your customers?”
“They’ll be fine without me. Lee Alderton is here.”
“She is?” I craned my neck and sure enough, Lee came out from the back room. After giving me a heartfelt hug, she agreed to help the other crafters while Kiki and I got caught up.
But Lee wasn’t the only surprise waiting for me. Detweiler had been hanging out in the back room, too. After greeting me, he put a hand on Kiki’s arm. “Babe, I'm heading in to work. Brawny’s giving me a lift.”
Kiki’s nanny was only two steps behind Detweiler. Here in St. Louis, she cuts quite the figure. I'd never seen a woman wearing a tartan skirt, brogues, and sporran until I met her. At first, the outfit seems weird. Comical, even. But once I got to know her, it was absolutely “spot on,” which is Brit-speak for “perfect.” Not only is she a character, but Brawny's a Scot, through and through. Proud of it, too. With her deep voice and that unmistakable accent, she's definitely one of a kind.
“I’ll run the detective to the police department,” she said. “I needed to get back to the house and do laundry anyway. We're having stew for dinner. I hope that's all right with ye.”
“Brawny is a spectacular cook,” Kiki said. “I've never eaten so well. Brawny? Cara Mia's family owned that restaurant I'm always raving about. The two of you should compare recipes.”
“I'd like that,” I said.
“And I as well,” Brawny said, just before she and Detweiler headed for the back room.
“What? We've been married just a month and you don't kiss your wife?” Kiki called after him.
Properly chastised, Detweiler hurried back to give her an enthusiastic smooch. “Hadcho will give me a ride home later.”
“Lee is willing to help out with the scrapbookers, but I need to let Margit know you’re here and we’re busy. That way she can listen for customers.” Kiki nodded her head toward the needle arts room. There I found Margit bent over a tiny sweater that could only be destined for Ty.
“Margit, how are you?” I asked.
“Cara Mia!” The older woman toddled over to give me a stiff hug.
“We’re going into the back,” said Kiki. “Ty is hungry.”
The tiny senior citizen waved. “Ja, ja. You go. I am fine.”
“How's everyone doing?” I asked, as we walked away from the sales floor. “Detweiler, Anya, and Erik? Get me up to speed.”
Instead of answering, she nodded toward the counter. “Help yourself to coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. You’re probably freezing.”
I did as she suggested while she rocked from side to side and answered my question.
“Erik has his moments. He's taken to calling me Mama Kiki, which is fine. I would never push him to accept me as his mother. Once in a while, something will remind him of his parents or of California, and then he's weepy. Mostly, he's been enchanted by snow and ice. You know that his Aunt Lorie moved here, right? She moved in with Leighton. That's been helpful. Lorraine and Leighton are like surrogate grandparents for the kids.”
“Anya?”
“She’s a handful. Helpful one minute and a pain in the backside the next. I guess that’s typical.”
“And Detweiler?” I added almond milk to my coffee, two Stevia packets, and then I stirred it to perfection.
“He's recovering pretty well from that bullet that nicked his spleen,” she said with a shrug, “but he doesn't like to admit when he's tired, like now. He still exercises every morning with Brawny, but they’ve worked out what he can and can’t do. I think the exercise is helping him keep up his spirits. For a while, he felt helpless and that was hard for him, you know? Hadcho took a bullet, too. Fortunately, his was a through-and-through in the shoulder. Bicep, actually. His is healing rather nicely.”
She paused to brush a tear from her eyes, and then she continued, “It’s a lot, you know? So much happening at once. Sheila’s still out in the rehab facility in California. Erik has been wetting the bed, off and on. He’s talking in baby talk, like he’s only two. I’ve been told that’s a common response to a new baby. Anya has been sassy. I know everything will be all right, but I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically.”
“Oh, Kiki,” I said, and I threw my arms around her, being careful not to squeeze Ty in the embrace. “Doesn’t Detweiler see that you’re exhausted?”
“Not really. He’s tired, too, but he and Hadcho have been relying on each other more since the shooting. Neither will admit he's hurting. A macho man type of thing, I guess.” Backing into the big black leather office chair, Kiki sat down with Ty in her arms. She attempted a smile. “Detweiler still gets a bit lightheaded. I can always tell because he hands Ty to me and says the baby is hungry. But he's not. Detweiler can't fool me. I think he went back to work too soon.”
Quickly unbuttoning her blouse, Kiki guided Ty to her breast. A kissing sound told me he didn’t need any encouragement. Once he was settled, she put her feet up on a fake fur leopard footstool. I recognized it as being an upcycled item that her friends had made especially for her after my friends suggested the design.
“That footstool turned out so stinking cute. We’ve been making them like crazy. Can’t keep up with the demand. Everyone loves the fact we’re reusing Styrofoam containers that would have hurt the environment.”
“It’s so handy. Hey, could you grab a spit up cloth out of my diaper bag?” Kiki pointed to the cute black bag with white polka dots. It hung from a hook behind me. Just as she finished draping the cloth over Ty’s head, we heard the back door fly open.<
br />
Detweiler raced into his wife’s office with his cell phone pressed to one ear. The office door banged against the wall behind him, but he didn’t seem to notice. His full attention was on his phone. “Uh-huh, right, got it. Will do.”
He ended the call and blurted out: “Someone just kidnapped Bonnie Gossage’s baby.”
CHAPTER 4
Kiki sat bolt upright in the chair, yanking Ty away from his dinner. His whole person quivered with indignation. How dare she take the food right out of his mouth!
“Waaaaaaahhhhh!” Ty’s scream hit a crescendo before breaking into a wail.
“Sh.” Kiki moved closer so he could reattach. Instantly, Ty’s stiff little body relaxed.
“Someone stole Bonnie Gossage's baby?” I sputtered. “You’re kidding, right? Is this a sick joke?”
“Afraid not.” Detweiler ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I was worried about something like this.”
Brawny was still wearing her gloves, scarf, and hat when she walked into the office. Her face was an angry mask of concern. She must have turned around and brought the detective immediately back to the store.
“What do you mean? You’re saying you thought this might happen?” I asked the detective.
“I hoped it wouldn’t, but Hadcho and I both saw it coming. See,” and Detweiler pulled up the empty chair and sank down, “there’s been a rash of attempted kidnappings of newborns. Three separate occasions. Three separate hospitals. We brought it up to Prescott Gallaway, and he paid no attention.”
Brawny glowered at the mention of Gallaway’s name. I waited for Kiki to weigh in, but she didn’t. Instead she fixed her gaze on the spot above my head. There used to be a photo there that Dodie had taken of a turtle. Where had it gone?
I sifted through what little I’d heard about Prescott Gallaway. I remember that he was the acting Chief of Police, while Robbie Holmes took a leave of absence to be with Sheila while she was in rehab out in California. In fact, my family restaurant had catered Robbie and Sheila’s wedding, so I had seen firsthand how Prescott had lusted after Robbie’s job. Whenever possible, Prescott stepped into the limelight. And when that glow of public attention wasn’t available to him, he manufactured situations to make Robbie look bad while making himself look good.
“Prescott’s attitude all along has been, Why worry about a problem that hasn’t happened?” Detweiler continued. “No matter how much we pushed him to take a closer look at all three scenarios, he refused. Several of us told him we needed to alert all the hospitals. We could have checked out their security procedures. But no, Prescott was too busy making himself look like a hero. His big thing is to point to what he calls ‘Robbie’s lapses in judgment’ and criticize his brother-in-law. That way Prescott doesn’t need to move forward or make any decisions that can come back on him. Now we've got a crisis on our hands. The person who did this has a head start. The weather forecast calls for more freezing rain. That’ll tie up our resources as we respond to fender-benders…”
He didn’t need to finish.
“Is Bonnie okay?” I asked.
“She is and she isn't,” said the cop. “According to the first responders she's hysterical. She's claiming she must have been drugged. This whole thing went down less than five minutes ago. I mean, no one noticed the child was missing, and they've yet to construct a timeframe.”
Ty had finished nursing. Kiki tidied up her clothes with one hand. A milk bubble formed and rested on the baby’s lips like a butterfly kisses a flower. His eyes fluttered closed, opened, and sagged closed again.
“Where did this happen? When?” I asked.
“The abduction was discovered less than ten minutes ago. Bonnie’s at Southeast Hospital. The floor supervisor went to check on her and discovered the baby was missing. Bonnie was out like a broken light bulb. Rather than sound the alarm, the supervisor quite appropriately checked with all other hospital personnel. She figured another nurse had the baby for some reason or another. That’s how she realized Bonnie’s little boy had been abducted.”
Brawny had slipped back into the office. She was still wearing her boiled wool jacket and a scarf around her neck. She frowned and said, “None of this makes any sense. Infant abductions are extremely rare. Over the past ten years there’s been increased security in hospitals. Most babies are fitted with a RFID device right after birth. The bracelet or ankle monitor is securely locked on right after the baby’s footprint is recorded. It's highly unusual for a baby to be stolen from a hospital in this day and age.”
“But somebody did do it,” Kiki said, more to herself than to us.
“And they pulled this stunt while mother and child were still in the hospital,” Detweiler agreed. His face was stormy with anger. “So the first thing we need to do is figure out how it happened. That might help us narrow down who did it, and where the baby is.”
When his phone rang, he got up and walked out of the office.
CHAPTER 5
Kiki let her head loll back against the black leather chair. She looked as if she was ready to follow Baby Ty in taking a nap. But then her lips moved and I heard her say, “I can’t believe this is happening. Especially to poor Bonnie.”
“Poor wee mite and his mother.” Brawny shook her head. “Acting Chief Gallaway doesn’t think beyond how he’s looking on the telly. It’s a shame Robbie Holmes isn’t here. That’s a man who uses his brain. But Prescott? Detweiler’s been telling me tales when we go for our morning runs.”
“You’re still running?” I probably looked as surprised as I sounded. Sure, I walked the beach every day since moving to Jupiter Island off the coast of Florida, but running? In this weather?
“’Tis more of a fast walk than a run, but the detective wants to keep up our routine. Don’t worry yourself. I keep a good eye on him. He’s not healing as fast as he’d like. No, I’m worried that if the kidnapper gets spooked by Prescott Gallaway’s shenanigans, the baby might be put at risk. What if he or she decides to abandon the child? In these low temps, that could mean…”
“I need your help.” Detweiler rejoined us.
“Huh,” Kiki scoffed. “I can’t help you with this. I’m the mother of three kids. A housewife. There’s nothing I can contribute. I think the world of Bonnie, you know I do, but there's no way I can help. I should be home darning your socks.”
The edge to her voice shocked me. The unspoken message was clear: She was angry with her husband.
“Yes, you can help us,” he said, evenly. “In fact, you might be the only person who can be of assistance. Bonnie is so distraught that her doctor recommends sedating her. If he does that, she’s no good to us. She won’t be able to report what happened. At least, she won’t be able to talk to us in a cogent way. You’re one of her best friends. If I can get you over to Southeast Hospital, you might be able to calm her down. I could interview her. We could get this investigation rolling.”
That made sense—and the way he put it, Kiki couldn’t say no, and yet she hesitated, frowning down at her son’s cherubic face. I waited, fighting a sense of shock. Since when did Kiki refuse to help a friend? Especially one whose child was in danger? This was soooo not Kiki.
“Sorry, but you're on your own.” Kiki sat forward and tugged on her blouse, settling it over her hips.
“Let me get this straight,” Detweiler said. “The woman who's stuck her nose into countless crimes won’t help me recover a stolen newborn, the child of her good friend, Bonnie Gossage, who got her out of jail a couple of years ago. Do I have that right? Furthermore, you're refusing to help us find a baby that's less than 24-hours old, even though it's bitterly cold outside, and that child could freeze to death if the kidnappers get spooked and decide to off-load their prize.”
As I watched, Kiki’s face lost its hard-edged look. In particular, her eyes softened and moistened. Her lower lip trembled. We waited and then she said, “What could I do that would possibly help Bonnie? I’m a mother and a housewife, remember?”
&
nbsp; “You know a lot of the women Bonnie socializes with. What her habits are. Since your friend—our friend, Bonnie—is an attorney, it’s remotely possible that someone has taken her baby in revenge. Hadcho can cover that angle. But right now I'm more worried that Bonnie Gossage is too hysterical to talk with us. Our best and only witness is incoherent. We need to know what she can remember—and we need to know it fast.”
“What about her husband?” Kiki’s face, usually so open and welcoming, had shut down like a window blind being pulled closed. “Why is Bonnie so important? I’m sure her husband can be as helpful as I can. Probably more so. And just where was he when this happened? Why wasn’t he by her side? Protecting her? Taking up for her? What kind of guy allows other people to harm his wife?”
The words carried a message to Detweiler, one beyond their simple meanings. As I watched, he flinched before answering, “Jeremy Gossage has two other little ones to worry about, in the care of his elderly parents, so he's somewhat distracted to say the least. He’d gone home to see how his older kids were doing when the baby was stolen. Needless-to-say, Jeremy would give his own life for his family.”
Wow. There was definitely a nip in the air, and it had nothing to do with the weather outside the building. I felt like I’d fallen down a rabbit hole into an alternate universe. What was going on?
“That leaves you asking me for help? I endanger babies or hadn’t you heard?” Kiki glared at Detweiler.
The urge for a close examination of my boots proved overwhelming, so that was exactly what I did. I paid total attention to how the bits of snow had melted to form patterns on the leather. Where the stitches started and ended. Important stuff like that. I’d never heard Kiki talk this way to Detweiler. In fact, I’d never heard her talk this way to anybody, anytime, anywhere. An undercurrent of anger swirled around us. All three of us were staring at Kiki, our faces must have been a study in surprise.
Glue, Baby, Gone Page 9