Glue, Baby, Gone

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Glue, Baby, Gone Page 11

by Joanna Campbell Slan


  Detweiler showed the paper to the head of hospital security, Anthony Zenino, who left us with a promise he'd distribute the information through their IT system. “I'll know in minutes if anyone with these details checked in as a patient.”

  “I'll beg a favor from Lucy Edelman,” Detweiler said. “She's the woman who's in charge of our composite images. Today's her day off, but she's a mom with five kids. I know she'll respond to my request. That way if this Jana Higgins lied about her identity, at least we’ve got a picture.”

  As Detweiler predicted, Lucy was willing to help. She arrived within an hour. That gave the head of security time to double-check the hospital's system for our abductor. No joy.

  Meanwhile, the nursing supervisor put her head together with everyone else working on the floor. They created a list of visitors, at least of those who had signed in. The supervisor admitted to Detweiler, “It might not match the official list, so I might be wasting our time, but there's always the possibility this woman slipped past someone at a desk.”

  One of the nurses found an empty can of Vanilla Coke in a trash container in the family waiting room. Bagging it in plastic, she was able to hand it to Detweiler. He called in yet another favor, and Stan Hadcho showed up shortly thereafter.

  “My shift is over. I'll take this to the crime lab and get it analyzed.” Hadcho tucked the can into his pocket. “The real reason I stopped by is to warn you that Prescott is on the warpath. The hospital administrator heard what you're doing and phoned Prescott to thank him. He thought Prescott changed his mind about waiting twenty-four hours. After accepting the man's gratitude, Prescott blew a gasket, yelling like a banshee about your insubordination.”

  Detweiler clapped Hadcho on the shoulder. “Good old Prescott. Always comes down on the right side of serving and protecting, huh?”

  “That customer of mine might not have ever been a patient on this floor,” Kiki said as she studied the list the nursing staff had cobbled together. “Jana Higgins' name certainly isn't here. I wonder if she might have slipped in another way.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, Cara,” Kiki said, “I'm thinking that she could have been a visitor just like us but used an assumed name. Once she got inside the hospital, she could have grabbed a gown and changed in a bathroom.”

  “That's certainly a possibility,” Detweiler said. “We need to widen our search to the other floors and any security cameras. We need to view the footage, see if we can get a glimpse of this woman coming in or going out. I'll tell them to get ready for an image they can distribute.” He turned his back on us and phoned the head of hospital security.

  A rap at the door told us that Lucy Edelman, the police artist, had arrived. Detweiler gave her a nod of greeting and introduced Lucy around. After removing a hot pink silk scarf from around her neck and black leather gloves, she pulled up a chair next to Bonnie. Lucy's demeanor instantly calmed all of us down. Although her personal style was dramatic, with a sharply cut bob of silver hair and leopard print glasses, her manner was as soothing as a prayer.

  For the next twenty minutes or so, Bonnie responded to questions while Lucy hit keys on a small computer. When they were finished, Kiki confirmed that the picture they'd developed adequately represented a woman known to us as Jana Higgins.

  Detweiler thanked Lucy before she left. “No problem. We'll all be happy when Robbie Holmes gets back.”

  “What else can you tell us about this Higgins girl?” Hadcho asked Bonnie. She had settled down considerably. Her posture had relaxed and her eyes seemed more focused.

  “Jana told us she was going to have a baby. Her due date was the same as mine. While Kiki was busy helping another scrapper, Jana whispered to me that she was engaged to be married, but they wanted to wait until after the baby came so they could include the baby in the ceremony.” Bonnie's voice was flat and lifeless.

  “Any idea where she lives? Any mention of where she'd driven in from?” Kiki asked. “Remember, some of the city streets hadn't been cleared yet. Could she have talked about having difficulty getting to the store? That might help us figure out who she is.”

  “No. She didn't mention the driving conditions.”

  “What did she say when she came in here? When she greeted you?” Detweiler asked.

  Bonnie's face puckered as she struggled to think clearly. “She said, ‘Hello. Oh, what a cute baby.’ Things like that. My head hurts. Could someone get me an aspirin?” With that she started to cry again, softly.

  “What if Jana Higgins, or whatever her name is, came through the ER?” I said. “Every time I've gone to the ER, they've made me change into a gown. Put a band on my wrist, too. Isn't it possible that she did that under an assumed name? Have you looked at the log down there? Could you take that sketch downstairs and show it around?”

  “Won’t do any good,” said the nursing supervisor, who’d been standing by the door. “The shifts have changed. Anyone who saw the abductor won’t be on duty now. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  Hadcho cursed under his breath.

  “No one by the name of Jana Higgins is in the drivers’ license database for the State of Missouri,” Detweiler said after checking a text message.

  “A fictitious name and address from a woman taking a scrapbooking class?” Hadcho rubbed his hand through his hair. “Now I’ve heard everything. Here I always thought that scrapbookers were such wonderful people.”

  “They are,” said Kiki. “Jana Higgins couldn't scrapbook her way out of a paper bag album.”

  “She planned this from the start,” I said.

  “Let me ask Margit how she paid for the class.” Kiki opened her cell phone.

  A few minutes on the phone and Kiki confirmed that Jana Higgins had paid in cash for the class. “With a one-hundred-dollar bill no less. Which is weird in itself because she didn't look like she had two cents to rub together.”

  “We keep hitting dead ends,” Jeremy said.

  “Yes, and we're eliminating a lot of blind alleys,” Detweiler said. “That's important. We're already discovered this was well-planned and cunningly executed. That tells me someone wanted to keep your baby alive—and that gives me hope.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Detweiler's summary of the Gossages' plight was mildly encouraging.

  Hadcho picked up the thread and continued, “We need to construct a timeline. Kiki? Bonnie? You two first saw this Jana Higgins when?”

  “January 10 at our crop,” Kiki said.

  “Any sightings after that?”

  “Yes. She came to the store a couple of days ago to redeem her coupon. I waited on her.”

  “What next?” Hadcho asked. “Mrs. Gossage, walk me through what happened, minute by minute. Your baby was born, when?”

  “Last night around eleven.”

  “That leads me to wonder how this woman knew you'd given birth,” Detweiler said. “Hospitals no longer post photos of new arrivals until after mother and child have gone home. It's a security risk.”

  “Only Jeremy knew. Okay, and then he was supposed to call Kiki and my law firm this morning.”

  “But I never got the chance,” Jeremy interrupted his wife. “Because I went home to tell the kids about their new brother and to give my parents a break. When I came back this morning, well, you know what happened.”

  “I fed our son a bottle. We decided that we’d use formula this time because when I’m in court, it’s a real hassle otherwise. I put him down for a nap in that crib,” and Bonnie pointed to the crib next to her bed.

  “The nurse on duty came by and checked on Mrs. Gossage and her baby,” said the floor supervisor. “No one was here who shouldn’t have been.”

  Bonnie nodded. “The baby was sleeping after he’d eaten, and I was watching television. Then there was a knock at the door. It was Jana. Or whatever her name is.”

  “What was she wearing?” Hadcho asked. “Get me caught up.”

  I knew this was a successful i
nterview technique. Asking for the same information over and over encouraged the interviewee to elaborate. To think of new details.

  And it worked.

  “A hospital gown, boots.” Bonnie paused to think. “Like Uggs but gray. Wet. On her wrist was a bracelet like mine.”

  Holding up her wrist, Bonnie showed us the regulation plastic bracelet that most hospitals use to tag patients. So now we had a new piece of the puzzle to work with.

  “Could you tell if the bracelet came from this hospital?” Detweiler probed gently.

  “I'm sure it did. It looked exactly like mine.”

  “If she didn't have her coat on,” Kiki said, “she must have gotten dressed in that thin cotton gown after getting inside the hospital, right? It's twenty below outside.”

  “That means she must have gone through the intake procedure and been given a gown. She simply used a fake ID. I’m on it,” Hadcho hustled his way out of the room.

  Bonnie rested her head on Kiki’s shoulder and cried softly. Kiki kept murmuring words of comfort.

  “So where did she go with our son?” Jeremy wondered.

  “The head of hospital security is checking the video feeds. There are all sorts of security cameras on this campus,” Detweiler said.

  “It’s so cold outside,” said Bonnie.

  “Bonnie and Jeremy, remember this: She wants the baby to raise for her own,” Kiki said. “She’s not going to let anything happen to your little boy. If Jana didn't want to be a good mommy, she wouldn't have shown up for a scrapbooking class.”

  “That's right,” Detweiler echoed.

  “I'm sure she wants to keep your baby safe,” Kiki repeated as she raised her eyebrows at me. I kept my mouth shut. I figured Kiki and I were thinking the same thing: Accidents do happen. Look at the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby. The abductors dropped him as they were climbing out of the bedroom window. The baby was never ransomed because he didn't live through his abduction.

  CHAPTER 10

  Excusing myself, I walked out to the nurses’ station. “Could you tell me where your vending machines are?”

  A woman in pink scrubs with gray kittens on it looked up from a computer screen. “In this building or on the hospital campus?”

  “This building,” I said. I couldn’t imagine Jana braving this freezing weather to try and find a Vanilla Coke.

  “Sure. Here’s a brochure for this building. On the second page, you’ll see all the vending machines are listed.”

  “Thanks.” I took it and walked back to the room.

  Kiki was talking quietly to Bonnie. Detweiler was talking to the intake desk. After Jeremy left to update his parents, I said, “I'll be right back.” I had a mission in mind. In the hall, I discovered we'd been joined by a uniformed officer, who was keeping an eye on the door to Bonnie's room. “Are you going to stay here? To safeguard Mrs. Gossage? Did Prescott Gallaway send you?”

  “I'm actually off-duty, but I'll stay long as I can, because Hadcho asked me if I'd help out,” he said. “If Chief Holmes was in town, he’d assign a detail, but with Prescott Gallaway in charge, it’s anybody’s guess. Gallaway likes to brag about being fiscally conservative. Penny wise and pound foolish if you ask me. Since he’s never been in charge for long, the impact of his poor decision-making has escaped notice.”

  I was shocked that the officer would be so candid, and I guess my face betrayed my surprise.

  “If you’re a friend to Mrs. Lowenstein, I mean Mrs. Detweiler, then I know I can be honest with you,” he explained.

  “Thanks for anything you can do to help Bonnie. This is purely awful, isn’t it? I get the impression we’re dealing with a whack job here.”

  “Aren’t they all?” said the cop, with a crooked grin.

  According to the brochure, there were vending machines in every lounge on every floor, and two sets on the ground floor. One set by the entrance and one back in the family waiting area. The cafeteria was also on the ground floor, so I started there.

  Twenty minutes later, I had my answer, and I returned to Bonnie’s room.

  “She’s cried herself to sleep,” said Kiki. She rested one hand on the shoulder of our friend, who was snoring lightly.

  “I made a tour of the vending machines. Nothing but Pepsi products. That means there are no Vanilla Cokes to be had.”

  “Huh?” Kiki moved off the bed where Bonnie was sleeping. She tiptoed over by me. “What's this about Vanilla Coke, and why does it matter?”

  Detweiler looked up from the text message he'd been composing.

  “The Vanilla Coke matters because Jana, or whoever she is, brought the cola with her when she came to the hospital. Maybe I’m making broad assumptions here, but that tells me she came here specifically expecting to see Bonnie. If that’s the case then—”

  “That further confirms that someone here at the hospital was watching specifically for Bonnie to have her baby,” Kiki said. “That person must have contacted Jana and told her Bonnie had been admitted.”

  “Right,” I said, feeling rather pleased with myself.

  “Good thinking,” said Detweiler, “that means our abductor probably had an accomplice. It's easier to catch two people who're in on a plot than one person, acting alone. Someone here, who’s part of the hospital staff, or who has regular access is involved. The hospital administration is going to go nuts.”

  “I’ve been thinking and thinking about Jana,” Kiki said softly so she didn't wake up Bonnie. “We usually take out the recycling on Wednesdays, but we had that ice storm last Wednesday.”

  “So?” Detweiler arched an eyebrow.

  “I wonder if Jana left behind any trash after the crop. She brought a package of photos with her. As I recall, they’d been developed at Walmart. I wonder which store and what name she used. I’ll give Margit a call and tell her to hold onto the recycling,” Kiki said. “I’ll also ask her how Ty is doing.”

  By the time Hadcho came back, we had a lot to tell him.

  CHAPTER 11

  Bonnie roused briefly, until the duty nurse gave her a sedative. The baby had been a C-section, so our friend needed all the rest she could get. Hysteria would not speed her recovery. I had a hunch that crying used more muscles than lying there happily in her hospital bed, but I didn't bother to ask for clarification.

  Hadcho had gotten a list of everyone who’d checked into the emergency room over the past 24 hours. None of the names looked familiar to Kiki. None of the “guests” (that was the hospital’s terminology) presented as being in labor.

  “We’re back to where we started,” said Detweiler, rubbing his jaw. “Let’s hope your recycling provides us with a few answers.”

  Kiki looked worn out. She’d perked up while we related our theory about an insider, but in the aftermath, she’d grown increasingly quiet. Sitting in the big recliner, she reminded me of a limp dishrag. Definitely not the image that usually came to mind when I thought, “Kiki Lowenstein.”

  “How about if I take you to the store and then drop you off at your house?” I wanted to dig into that trash and see if we could come up with anything.

  “Sounds good.”

  Detweiler and Hadcho decided to stay at the hospital and conduct more interviews. “I'm hoping the CCTV will show a good picture of the woman who took Bonnie's baby. The Indenti-Kit image is never as reliable as a photo.”

  Hadcho agreed. “It might also indicate where she came from and where she went. Maybe the baby is still on the premises. That would explain why the RIFD alarm didn't go off.”

  Kiki gave Detweiler a half-hearted hug. I followed her out the door as she led the way to the elevator bank.

  “Where are you staying?” she asked.

  “Probably at one of the Drury Inn hotels. Free breakfast and dinner, plus a glass of wine in the evening. What’s not to love?”

  “You’re welcome to stay at our house.”

  “That’s very kind, but I don’t think you need another person underfoot.”

 
She didn’t argue about that. Back in the rental car, Kiki was uncharacteristically quiet.

  “Okay, what’s eating you?” I asked as I keyed the ignition.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Kiki, I’ve bared my soul to you more than once. Don’t you think it would help you to talk about whatever it is that’s bugging you? You aren’t yourself, you know.”

  “Have you ever felt totally and wholly inadequate? That’s how I feel. I look at Erik and Anya and Ty, and I think, ‘What if I’m a worse parent than my mother? What if Erik notices that he doesn’t match his siblings, and he never fits in? What if I rely too much on Anya?’”

  “You’re over-thinking this.”

  “Maybe. Erik has started wetting the bed. He didn’t do that when he first came to live with us. He’s been waking up and crying at night. That’s new, too. The timing of all this is wrong. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant—”

  “Then you and Detweiler wouldn’t have moved up the ceremony. That would have left Erik in a precarious position. No mother. Just a working dad who’s got an around-the-clock type of job.”

  “But he would have had the chance to acclimate. Instead, he’s been asked to adjust to a lot of changes all at once.”

  “He has the same caregiver that he’s had all of his life. Brawny provides him with tremendous stability. How about Lorraine? His Auntie Lori? She’s right next door. Short of importing palm trees and a coastline, you’ve done everything possible to make Webster Groves his home.”

  “But he’s regressing!”

  I was temporarily stunned into silence. Kiki’s usually not like this. She’s usually the one who acts like a rock for the rest of us. This turn of events had loosened her moorings. Like the mythical island that tears loose from its foundation, she was floating, tossed by currents, and getting ready to sink.

  Okay, it was my turn to be her anchor. I could do that for her.

 

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