Abducted

by Janice Cantore

  The fact that Harris called her experienced help gave her a jolt of confidence as Carly hurried to her car.

  • • •

  Jacobs opened the meeting by explaining how the investigation was going, what information the press had been given, and his hopes for the tip line. Norman Garrison, the captain in charge of detectives, patrol, and training, listened intently, shooting off questions to Harris now and again. Carly felt tension in the room and wondered if it was solely due to the kidnapping. She’d heard department gossip and knew Jacobs was in line for a promotion and wanted Garrison’s job. Jake was ambitious, hardworking, and had a solid reputation, so the captain had good reason to worry that his job was in jeopardy. He’d barely kept his rank after a scathing investigation of the department by the FBI. They’d outlined deficiencies in his supervisory skills but stopped short of recommending demotion. It was under Garrison’s watch that the old homicide sergeant and an investigator were found to be part of a smuggling operation and responsible for the murder of three people, including the previous mayor. The scenario of him being moved to the records division while Jake was promoted to his spot was not far-fetched.

  Since Carly was responsible for uncovering the corrupt cops, Garrison treated her as if she were the cause of all his problems. She knew from personal experience that Garrison could be territorial and petty. She wondered if he’d smack Jake down just because he could or if he’d play it safe, give him everything he wanted—and if something went wrong, be sure to hang all the blame on Jake. She squirmed in her seat and thought about how much she hated politics and posturing.

  “And you’re certain you need Officer Edwards’s services on this investigation?” Garrison asked Sergeant Nelson, nodding in Carly’s direction but not looking at her.

  “Yes, sir. You know we’re a little short in homicide. Carly’s a hard worker; we can use her to run down leads.” Nelson smiled at Carly across the conference table.

  Carly tried to read Garrison and found it impossible; the man was stone.

  “Sergeant Nelson and I have discussed this at length,” Jacobs jumped in. “Detective Harris has yet to be assigned a partner, and Nelson has his plate full learning his job and interviewing applicants for the open position. Even though Carly has never worked homicide, she’s an experienced officer and she knows how to interview.”

  There was silence for a few minutes. The captain is probably trying to think of a way to say no, Carly thought.

  “Okay, I’ll sign off on it,” Garrison finally acquiesced, but he kept his gaze on Jacobs. “There’s a great deal of publicity surrounding this case; kidnappings are hot stories. I want a first-class, professional investigation conducted by all parties involved; is that understood?” He stood to leave.

  “Of course. And we will get the kid back,” Jacobs assured him.

  Garrison left the room.

  “Well, Trouble, you’re in.” Jake smiled at Carly.

  “Great. Where do I start?”

  “How about with me?” Harris asked. “Let’s get a car and pick a neighborhood to walk.”

  “I’m ready.”

  • • •

  Since the tip line wouldn’t be up and running right away—it would take time for the information on A.J. to be broadcast and for people to be made aware of the situation before they could call in—Nelson and Jacobs worked out a grid search pattern in the neighborhoods around the hospital for several teams to walk and knock on doors. The hospital’s parking structure was under video surveillance, but it was often difficult to see the driver in the digital recordings, and no one could say for sure they saw someone resembling the kidnapper drive out. So Jake was operating on the theory that she either walked to the hospital or parked on a side street.

  Carly and Pete were assigned a grid on the south side of the hospital, a neighborhood of small, older homes. It was a gritty area but not a problem one. Carly had handled a few calls over the years there, usually disputes or burglaries. She didn’t consider it high crime and didn’t hold out much hope they’d uncover a lead, but she was happy to walk the neighborhood with Pete.

  By the time they hit the pavement, people were settling in for a Saturday night. Carly thought about this—if these people were home now, they were likely home when the kidnapping happened. The chances of a witness were good.

  “Hi, I’m Investigator Harris; this is Officer Edwards.” Pete used the same introduction every time. “We’re investigating a kidnapping from the hospital and have a few questions to ask.”

  Some people were wary at first, but once they realized they were not suspects, they loosened up. Carly filled out a card on each residence with the names of the people who lived there and those they spoke to. She also noted if no one was home at an address because they would have to be contacted later. Everyone cooperated and tried to be helpful, but in spite of the odds that they’d find a good witness, they came up empty. No one had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

  “This is a quiet neighborhood” was a comment Pete and Carly heard over and over.

  By the time they’d finished a couple of hours later, Carly’s feet hurt and her heart was heavy, knowing that every minute that passed, A.J. could be farther away.

  10

  SUNDAY MORNING Carly woke stiff and bleary-eyed. She’d slept a total of five hours the day before and then had gotten home around three in the morning after the walk and talks. She was happy to help, but when she’d heard Nick was on the team, she’d hoped to work some with him. As it turned out, she’d had precious little time with him. They’d crossed paths briefly when she and Harris had returned to the station. There, the phones were quiet and everyone started talking police work. Detectives, patrol officers, and dispatchers joined in, and talk and tactics had bounced around the room for hours. Nick was more animated than she’d seen him in a while. If it weren’t for the fact that A.J. was missing, the night would have been an enjoyable law enforcement bull session.

  Yawning, Carly shuffled to the patio door and let Maddie out, then went to the front door to pick up the morning paper. A.J. was front page, and there was even a composite of the kidnapper. “Police Officer’s Infant Kidnapped from Hospital” was Alex’s headline. She studied the drawing. It was generic, but it was something. As she started coffee, she noticed that Andi wasn’t home. Carly wasn’t certain she’d been home at all that night.

  Don’t have the energy for that, she thought as she picked up the phone to tell her mother about A.J. and that she would miss church that morning. But the phone buzzed before she could punch a number. It was her mom, and Carly smiled, thinking she’d probably waited too long to let her mother know what was happening. But Mom would understand.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “I read the paper, and I’ve seen the news. What on earth? Joe’s baby was taken from the hospital?”

  Carly pinched the bridge of her nose and told her mother what was going on with the search for A.J.

  “I know you’re busy, but how is Joe? First his wife, and now this.”

  “He’s holding up, but this is hard.”

  Kay sighed. “I’ll get the meals ministry going for him and tell Jonah about the situation. He’ll probably open the church for a continuous prayer vigil.”

  “That would be great.”

  “Will I see you at church this morning?”

  “No, I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m going in to work on my own time to do what I can.”

  “I understand. Keep me updated if you’re able.”

  • • •

  The command post had moved to community relations, and the office was buzzing with activity Sunday morning. Local news had just broadcast the story, and Carly was glad to see more people manning the phones. Joining the officers and dispatchers donating their time were members of Las Playas Search and Rescue, a civilian group of volunteers. They were gearing up to walk neighborhoods; Carly considered doing the same again. But first she wanted to find Nick—and that was the only hitch in the
scene, since Nick was nowhere to be found. He’d left earlier than she had last night, promising to be back this morning.

  “Hey, how’s everyone doing?” Carly smiled.

  “We’re okay, but no good news so far.” Jeanie, a dispatcher, greeted Carly and motioned her to an empty chair. “Nick said to tell you hi if you came in. He left because his hip was cramping.”

  “Thanks.” At least that question was answered. “Have you been getting a lot of calls?” Carly took a seat and settled in. She was tired; answering phones would be the best choice this morning.

  “Yeah, but we’re getting a lot of kooks, too. Every time the radio or TV broadcasts the information, the lines light up. We’re to page Sergeant Nelson if we get anything that sounds good.”

  Jeanie left Carly to wait for the phone to ring. On one wall of the room were four televisions, all on local channels, with the sound muted. Carly guessed they were waiting for broadcasts of A.J.’s information, but it was Sunday and there were cartoons on. The phone in front of her rang and she answered, doing her best to ignore the TVs and listen carefully, hoping for a tip that would lead her to A.J.

  Carly stayed moderately busy fielding phone calls until lunch. Nothing sounded to her like legitimate information, but she copied everything down. Around one o’clock, Pete Harris showed up with several pizzas donated by a local restaurant. He looked as tired as she felt, and she knew he’d been working with very little sleep.

  “How’s it going? Anything good?” He pulled up a chair and set a pizza between them.

  “Not so far.”

  “Well, maybe things will pick up. I hope you like sausage and pepperoni.”

  “There is no such thing as bad pizza.” She grabbed a napkin and a slice of pizza. Pete was already munching on his. “You look tired. No luck with any tips you followed?” she asked before biting into her slice.

  He shook his head and swallowed. “Nope. I ran down about a dozen with Nelson. I think collectively we’ve slept about three hours.” He rubbed his eyes. “We staked out one that sounded real good, but the tipster was anonymous.”

  “Where was it?”

  “Over on the west side.” He handed her a copy of the information taken from the caller, and she skimmed it while he talked. “Guy calls in and gives us this great description of a girl wearing what he calls ‘doctor clothes.’ Says she’s a neighbor of his and she wasn’t pregnant—in fact, he thinks she’s too young to be a mother, but she came home yesterday with a baby. We watched the place for a couple of hours, and . . . well, nothing. I’m still having black-and-whites run by there from time to time. But this girl, if she really existed, seems to have disappeared.”

  “I can see why you were hopeful; that sounded good.”

  “It did. But now I’m thinking it was just someone yanking our chain. I think legit people will give their names.”

  They sat in silence, munching on their pizza. The phones in the room rang sporadically.

  After lunch, Carly—though frustrated at the lack of progress—felt energized to stay awhile longer. It was tedious work at times, especially when a known crazy named Morris called. She knew the voice immediately because he used to call in to juvenile all the time. Sometimes he’d stay on the line for several minutes talking nonsense, and other times he’d hang up abruptly.

  “Schultz—is Schultz there?” Morris always asked for Schultz, a long-retired narcotics detective who apparently knew Morris before he went crazy. Morris usually called to complain that he was being followed or bugged by the FBI and he wanted Schultz to make them stop.

  “Morris, is that you?” Carly rolled her eyes, knowing if she hung up, he’d call right back. “Why are you calling this line?” This won’t help find A.J.

  “Where’s Schultz? Gotta talk to Schultz.”

  “He retired, Morris.”

  “Oh. Okay, bye.”

  Carly replaced the receiver and stifled a yawn.

  “Rough job?”

  Carly looked up to see Nick standing in front of her, leaning on his cane. Straightening in her chair, she smiled. “Only when Morris calls.”

  Nick chuckled, and the sound soothed Carly’s soul. “Morris, good old Morris. He calls report review from time to time.” He leaned against the counter in front of her. “I don’t mind talking to the guy—you know, humoring him. But I have this fear one day he’ll start calling and saying ‘Anderson’ instead of ‘Schultz.’”

  “Don’t think it would have the same ring to it.”

  “Hope not. In any event, Morris is harmless.”

  “Maybe so, but every wasted minute means A.J. is farther away.”

  “I understand the urgency to find him, but half the department is looking, along with every major news outlet. Think you can take a little bit of a break? You up for some coffee or something to eat?”

  The question made Carly’s spirits soar. She glanced around the room and decided she could afford to leave. “Pete brought in pizza a little earlier, but coffee sounds great. Kelly’s?” Kelly’s Coffeehouse was at the marina, not far from Walt’s.

  “Yeah, I haven’t been there in a while.”

  It was two in the afternoon and still hot, but not as searing as the last few days. At the coffee shop, Nick opened the door for Carly. Kelly’s planned to be part of the new marina, and pasted on a back wall was a rendering of what the renovated Kelly’s would look like. The fan-cooled coffeehouse was a little stuffy. But any place where she and Nick were together and on the same page was a comfortable place. Heart light, at least as far as her relationship with Nick was concerned, Carly did something she never did—ordered iced coffee.

  “Hey, what’s up with that? I’ve never seen you drink coffee that wasn’t steaming hot,” Nick said, watching her with a half smile playing on his lips as she took a sip through the straw.

  Carly swallowed, enjoying the iced, slushy liquid. “I just felt like something cold. I’m surprised; this is refreshing.”

  On their way to sit outside, they stopped to look at the rendering.

  “It will look nice,” Carly said.

  “Yeah, but I’ll miss the old charm of the crumbling marina. And one of our first dates was down here; remember that?”

  Carly smiled as a kind of giddy warmth slid through her with the happy nostalgia the memory of the date nurtured. “Yeah, I remember it well.” They were still in the academy then but nearing graduation. The date was filled with talk about their training officers, learning beats and radio codes, and hopes for their new careers.

  They found shady seats, and Carly was reminded of her dinner the day before with Trejo. Guilt flowed through her, chilling her like the ice in her drink, at the thought of Trejo. She tried to stem the flow. After all, she and Alex had only talked, nothing more.

  “We haven’t really sat and talked in a while.” Nick studied his coffee mug. “I guess it’s been my fault, and I wanted to apologize.”

  “No need,” Carly said quickly—and just as quickly admonished herself to calm down. I know Nick too well; we’ve been together too long for me to act like a love-starved teenager.

  “I know you’ve been having a hard time in therapy and all,” she said. “I’ve tried not to take it personal.” Carly smiled and felt more of the knot that had taken up residence in her stomach for weeks start to dissolve. “I only want to help you; you know that.”

  “I know; I know. Which makes what I have to say even harder.” He sat back in his chair and looked at her, meeting her eyes somewhat reluctantly. Carly couldn’t read the emotion there. Immediately the knot re-formed, rising from her stomach and sticking in her throat.

  “What? Bad news from the therapists?”

  “No, they keep insisting I’ll get past this. That it will just take time.” He paused, frustration and impatience reflected in his eyes. “I just think that maybe we moved too quickly. Maybe we talked about reconciling too soon. I—we—need to step back for a little bit . . . you know, to reevaluate things.”

 
; A sledgehammer hit the knot in Carly’s throat, sending it straight to her head. Her temples pounded; she felt her face grow hot. She’d just heard what she’d feared most, and her heart screamed, How could he? Looking away, she fought back angry tears and tried to think, tried to know what to say.

  “Why? Four months ago, things were perfect. We were happy; the past was behind us. What’s happened to change your mind so drastically?” I hope I’m not whining.

  “It’s not drastic. I didn’t say it was over. I just said we need to slow down, step back. That’s all.”

  “It’s the same thing. I love you. And I miss you. You’ve been holding me at arm’s length, and I hate it. Now you’re saying I’m supposed to forget how I feel?”

  “Time won’t change feelings if they are real.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? That you don’t believe I feel the way I do, or that you don’t love me?”

  “I do love you. That’s why I’m giving you this break. You’ll have time to think.”

  “Think about what? Right now I’m thinking I want to slap some sense into you! What’s so different now as opposed to four months ago?”

  “For heaven’s sake, I’m not the man I was four months ago!” He slammed his hand down on the table and spilled his coffee. Heads turned their way.

  He continued in a lower voice, and Carly could see the months of pain etched into his face. “I need help putting my own shoes on. I have to use those aids they give to old people with bad hips. No one can tell me when, or if, I’ll ever be normal again. Last night, talking with those agents and officers, I realized how lame I am—and I may stay this way. I’m not going to have you hanging in there because you feel sorry for me.”

  So that was it? His hip maybe being a permanent handicap was the problem? Carly felt her mouth gape. Jack and Joe had pegged it correctly, and Carly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Swallowing and willing her voice to stay level, she said, “The only one with a pity problem is sitting across from me. I don’t care about your hip. And swimming with you to encourage and push you during therapy is something I look forward to. It’s a temporary condition, and I can’t believe you would accuse me of being so petty.” She wanted to add, “And where is your faith?” but thought better of it.