“Your BOLO,” he said. “It kind of matches the mom’s description. Brown hair, brown eyes.”
“What’s the kid saying?”
“Fuck-all,” he admitted. “I’m at the hospital with him now. You’ve got a kid. You wanna come see if you can get anything out of him?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
—
Members of the press were clustered around the entrance of Grady Hospital, momentarily displacing the pigeons but not the homeless people, who appeared determined to be included in every background shot. Will pulled into one of the reserved parking spots out front, hoping they could sneak in unnoticed. The prospect did not seem likely. News vans had their satellite dishes pointed skyward, and perfectly pressed reporters stood with mikes in their hands, breathlessly reporting the tragic story of the child who was abandoned at City Foods this morning.
Will got out of the car, telling Faith, “Amanda thought the kid would take the heat off us for a while. She’s going to go ballistic when she finds out they might be connected.”
Faith offered, “I’ll tell her if you want me to.”
He tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked beside her. “If I get a vote here, I’d rather you snap at me than feel sorry for me.”
“I can do both.”
He chuckled, although the fact that he’d missed the list of emergency numbers taped to the refrigerator was about as funny as his inability to read Jackie Zabel’s name off her driver’s license while the woman hung lifeless over his head. “Candy’s right, Faith. She called it in one.”
“You would have shown the list to me,” Faith defended. “Jackie Zabel’s sister wasn’t even home. I doubt a five-minute delay in leaving a message on her answering machine will make a huge difference.”
Will kept his mouth shut. They both knew she was stretching things. In some cases, five minutes made all the difference in the world.
Faith continued, “And if you hadn’t stayed under that tree with the license last night, you might not have found the body until daylight. If ever.”
Will saw the reporters were studying each person who walked to the front entrance of the hospital, trying to ascertain whether or not they were important to their story.
He told Faith, “One day, you’re going to have to stop making excuses for me.”
“One day, you’re going to have to get your head out of your ass.”
Will kept walking. Faith was right about one thing—she could snap at him and feel sorry for him at the same time. The revelation brought him no comfort. Faith’s blood ran blue—not the old-money kind, but the cop kind—and she had the same knee-jerk response that had been drilled into Angie every single day at the police academy, every single second on the street. When your partner or your squad was attacked, you defended him no matter what. Us against them, damn the truth, damn what was right.
“Will—” Faith was cut off as the reporters swarmed around her. They had pegged Faith for a cop as she walked across the parking lot while Will, as usual, had gotten a free pass.
Will held out his hand, blocking a camera, using his elbow to push away a photographer with an Atlanta Journal logo on the back of his jacket.
“Faith? Faith?” a man called.
She turned around, spotting a reporter, and shook her head as she kept walking.
“Come on, babe!” the man called. Will thought that with his scruffy beard and rumpled clothes, he looked just like the kind of guy who could get away with calling a woman “babe.”
Faith turned away, but she kept shaking her head as she walked toward the entrance.
Will waited until they were inside the building, past the metal detectors, to ask, “How do you know that guy?”
“Sam works for the Atlanta Beacon. He did a ride-along with me when I was working patrol.”
Will seldom thought about Faith’s life before him, the fact that she had worn a uniform and driven a squad car before she became a detective.
Faith gave a laugh Will didn’t quite understand. “We were hot and heavy for a few years.”
“What happened?”
“He didn’t like that I had a kid. And I didn’t like that he was an alcoholic.”
“Well …” Will tried to think of something to say. “He seems all right.”
“He does seem that way,” she answered.
Will watched the reporters press their cameras against the glass, trying desperately for a shot. Grady Hospital was a public area, but the press needed permission to film inside the building and they had all learned at one time or another that the security guards had no qualms about tossing them out on their ears if they started to bug the patients or—worse—the staff.
“Will,” Faith said, and he could tell from her voice that she wanted to go back to talking about the list on the fridge, Will’s glaring illiteracy.
He said something that he knew would sidetrack her. “Why did Dr. Linton tell you all that stuff?”
“What stuff?”
“About her husband and being a coroner down south.”
“People tell me things.”
That was true enough. Faith had the cop’s gift of being quiet so that other people talked just to fill the silence. “What else did she say?”
She smiled like a cat. “Why? Do you want me to put a note in her locker?”
Will felt stupid again, but this kind of stupid was far worse.
Faith asked, “How’s Angie doing?”
He shot back, “How’s Victor?”
And they were quiet the rest of the journey through the lobby.
“Hey, hey!” Leo held out his arms as he walked toward Faith. “Look at the big GBI girl!” He gave her a bear hug that, surprisingly, Faith allowed. “You’re looking good, Faith. Real good.”
She waved him off with a disbelieving laugh that would’ve seemed girlish if Will hadn’t known her better.
“Good to see you, man,” Leo boomed, shooting out his hand.
Will tried not to wrinkle his nose at the stench of cigarette smoke coming off the detective. Leo Donnelly was of average height and average build and, unfortunately, was a well-below-average cop. He was good at following orders, but thinking on his own was something the man just didn’t want to do. While this was hardly surprising in a homicide detective who had come up in the 1980s, Leo represented exactly the kind of cop that Will hated: sloppy, arrogant, not afraid to use his hands if a suspect needed loosening up.
Will tried to keep things pleasant, shaking the man’s hand, asking, “How’s it going, Leo?”
“Can’t complain,” he answered, then started to do exactly that as they walked toward the emergency room. “I’m two years away from full retirement and they’re trying to push me out. I think it’s the medical—y’all remember that problem I had with my prostate.” Neither one of them responded, but that didn’t stop Leo. “Fucking city insurance is refusing to pay for some of my medication. I’m telling you, don’t get sick or they’ll screw you six ways to Sunday.”
“What medication?” Faith asked. Will wondered why she was encouraging him.
“Fucking Viagra. Six bucks a pill. First time in my life I’ve ever had to pay for sex.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Faith commented. “Tell us about this kid. Any leads on the mom?”
“Zilch. Car’s registered to a Pauline McGhee. We found blood at the scene—not a lot but enough, you know? This wasn’t a nosebleed.”
“Anything in the car?”
“Just her purse, her wallet—license confirms it’s McGhee. Keys were in the ignition. The kid—Felix—was sleeping in the back.”
“Who found him?”
“A customer. She spotted him sleeping in the car, then got the manager.”
“He was probably exhausted from fear,” Faith murmured. “What about video?”
“The only working camera outside sweeps back and forth across the front of the building.”
“What happened to the other cameras?”
> “Bad guys shot them out.” Leo shrugged, as if this was to be expected. “The SUV was just out of the frame, so we’ve got no footage of the car. We’ve got McGhee walking in with her kid, walking out alone, running back in, running back out. My guess is she didn’t notice the kid was gone until she got to her car. Maybe somebody outside kept him hidden, then used him as bait to lure her close enough, then smash and grab.”
“Anyone else on the camera coming out of the store?”
“It pans left to right. The kid was definitely in the store. I’m guessing whoever snatched him was watching the camera. They sneaked by when it swept the other side of the lot.”
Faith asked, “Do you know what school Felix goes to?”
“Some fancy private school in Decatur. I called them already.” He took out his notebook and showed it to Faith so she could write down the information. “They said the mom doesn’t have an emergency contact listed. The dad jerked off in a cup; end of involvement. No grandparents have ever shown up. FYI, personal observation, folks at her job ain’t too crazy about the chick. Sounded like they thought she was a real bitch.” He took a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket and showed it to Faith. “Here’s a copy of her license. Good-lookin’ broad.”
Over her shoulder Will looked at the picture. It was black-and-white, but he took a good guess. “Brown hair. Brown eyes.”
“Just like the others,” Faith confirmed.
Leo said, “We already got guys at McGhee’s house. None of the neighbors seem to know who the hell she is or really care that she’s gone. They say she kept to herself, never waved, never went to the block parties or whatever they did. We’re gonna try her work—it’s some hoity-toity design firm on Peachtree.”
“You run a credit check on her?”
“She’s flush,” Leo answered. “Mortgage looks good. Car’s paid for. Has money in the bank, the market and an IRA. She’s obviously not working off a cop’s salary.”
“Any recent activity on her credit cards?”
“Everything was still in her purse—wallet, cards, sixty bucks cash. Last time she used her debit card was at the City Foods this morning. We put a flag on everything in case somebody wrote the numbers down. I’ll let you know if we get a hit.” Leo glanced around. They were standing outside the emergency room entrance. He lowered his voice. “Is this related to your Kidney Killer?”
“Kidney Killer?” Will and Faith asked in unison.
“Y’all are cute,” Leo said. “Like the Bobbsey Twins.”
“What are you talking about, the Kidney Killer?” Faith sounded as puzzled as Will felt.
“Rockdale County’s leaking worse than my prostate,” Leo confided, obviously delighted to be spreading the news. “They’re saying your first victim had her kidney removed. I guess this is some kind of organ-harvesting thing. A cult maybe? I hear you can make big bucks for a kidney, around a hundred grand.”
“Jesus Christ,” Faith hissed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Her kidney wasn’t taken?” Leo seemed disappointed.
Faith didn’t answer, and Will wasn’t about to give Leo Donnelly any information that he could take back to the squad room. He asked, “Has Felix said anything?”
Leo shook his head, flashing his badge so they’d be buzzed back into the ER. “The kid clammed up. I called in social services, but they got fuck-all out of him. You know how they are at that age. Little thing’s probably retarded.”
Faith bristled. “He’s probably upset because he saw his mother abducted. What do you expect?”
“Who the hell knows? You’ve got a kid. I figured you’d be better at talking to him.”
Will had to ask Leo, “Don’t you have kids?”
Leo shrugged. “Do I look like the kind of man who has a good relationship with his children?”
The question did not really need an answer. “Was anything done to the boy?”
“The doc says he’s okay.” His elbow dug into Will’s ribs. “Speaking of the doc, shit, she’s something else. Fucking gorgeous. Red hair, legs up to here.”
Faith had a smile on her lips, and Will would have asked her about Victor Martinez again if Leo hadn’t been standing there with his elbow jammed into Will’s liver.
There was a loud beeping from one of the rooms, and nurses and doctors ran past, crash carts and stethoscopes flying. Will felt his gut tighten at the familiar sights and sounds. He had always dreaded doctors—especially the Grady docs who had served the kids at the children’s home where Will grew up. Every time he’d been taken out of a foster home, the cops had brought him here. Every scrape, every cut, every burn and bruise, had to be photographed, catalogued and detailed. The nurses had been doing it long enough to know that there was a certain detachment needed for the job. The doctors weren’t as practiced. They would yell and scream at social services and make you think that for once, something was going to change, but then you found yourself right back in the hospital a year later, a new doc railing and screaming the same things.
Now that Will was in law enforcement, he understood how their hands were tied, but that still didn’t change the way his gut twisted every time he walked into the Grady emergency room.
As if he sensed the ability to make the situation worse, Leo patted Will on the arm, saying, “Sorry about Angie splitting, man. Probably for the best.”
Faith was silent, but Will felt lucky she wasn’t capable of shooting flames from her eyes.
Leo said, “I’ll go find out where the doc is. They were keeping the kid in the lounge, trying to get him to calm down.”
He left, and Faith’s continued silence as she stared at Will spoke volumes. He tucked his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall. The emergency room wasn’t as busy as it had been last night, but there were still enough people milling around to make it difficult to have a private chat.
Faith didn’t seem to mind. “How long has Angie been gone?”
“A little under a year.”
Her breath caught. “You’ve only been married for nine months.”
“Yeah, well.” He glanced around, not wanting to have this conversation here or anywhere else. “She only married me to prove that she actually was going to marry me.” He felt himself smiling despite the situation. “It was more to win an argument than to actually get married.”
Faith shook her head as if she could make no sense of what he was saying. Will wasn’t sure he could help her. He had never understood his relationship with Angie Polaski. He had known her since he was eight years old and there wasn’t much he had figured out in the ensuing years, except that the minute she felt too close to him, she headed for the door. That she always eventually came back was a pattern Will had come to appreciate for its simplicity.
He told her, “She leaves me a lot, Faith. It wasn’t a surprise.”
She kept her mouth shut, and he couldn’t tell if she was mad or just too shocked to speak.
He said, “I want to check on Anna upstairs before we leave.”
She nodded.
He tried again. “Amanda asked me how you were doing last night.”
Faith suddenly gave him her full attention. “What did you tell her?”
“That you’re fine.”
“Good, because I am.”
He stared his meaning into her: Will wasn’t the only one holding back information.
“I am fine,” she insisted. “At least I will be, okay? So don’t worry about me.”
Will pressed his shoulders into the wall. Faith was silent, and the low hum of the emergency room was like static in his ears. Within minutes, he found himself fighting the urge to close his eyes. Will had fallen into bed around six that morning, thinking that he’d manage at least two hours’ sleep before he had to go pick up Faith. He’d negotiated down the morning’s activities as each hour passed, thinking first that he’d skip taking the dog for a walk, then taking off eating breakfast from the list, then finally removing his usual coffee.
The clock had ticked off each hour with excruciating slowness, which he marked every twenty minutes when his eyes shot open, his heart in his throat, his head still thinking he was trapped back in that cave.
Will felt his arm itching again, but he didn’t scratch it for fear of drawing Faith’s attention to the gesture. Every time he thought about the cave, those rats using the flesh on his arms for a ladder, he felt his skin start to crawl. Considering how many scars Will had on his body, it was foolish to obsess about a couple of scratches that would eventually heal without leaving a mark, but it kept troubling his mind, and the more his mind was troubled, the more he itched.
He asked Faith, “You think this Kidney Killer thing has already hit the news?”
“I hope it has so when the real story comes out, those Rockdale County idiots look like the ignorant pricks they are.”
“Did I tell you what Fierro said to Amanda?”
She shook her head, and he relayed Fierro’s ill-timed accusation involving the Rockdale County chief of police’s pole.
Faith’s voice was little more than a shocked whisper. “What did she do to him?”
“He just disappeared,” Will said, taking out his cell phone. “I don’t know where he went, but I never saw him again.” He checked the time on his phone. “The autopsy’s in an hour. If nothing comes out of this kid, let’s go to the morgue and see if we can get Pete to start early.”
“We’re supposed to meet the Coldfields at two. I can call them and see if we can make it closer to noon.”
Will knew Faith hated sitting in on autopsies. “Do you want to split up?”
She obviously did not appreciate the offer. “We’ll see if they can move up the time. Our part of the postmortem should be fairly quick.”
Will hoped so. He didn’t relish the idea of lingering over the morbid details of the torture Jacquelyn Zabel had endured before she’d managed to escape to safety, only to fall and break her neck while waiting for help. “Maybe we’ll have something more to go on by then. A connection.”
“You mean other than both women were single, attractive, successful and pretty much hated by everyone who came into contact with them?”
The Will Trent Series 5-Book Bundle Page 93