Vicious Cycle

by Terri Blackstock

  No, all she could do was pray for her friend and ask God to protect baby Grace. But for now, Emily’s first priority had to be keeping herself on track.

  Chapter 45

  Before going back to the police station, Kent went to the hospital to talk to the nurse who’d released the baby to Jordan. This wasn’t just a case of an indecisive birth mother. She could be planning to sell the baby after all.

  The nurse described the man who’d been with Jordan. After a call to Detective Dathan, Kent managed to get a copy of the security tape in the nursery and hallway when Jordan checked out of the hospital. He’d sent the picture of the man to Barbara’s cell phone, and she’d identified Jordan’s half-brother. There was a bulge in the waistband of his jeans, under his shirt. A gun, probably. That explained why Jordan had gone along.

  So if Zeke had Jordan and the baby, that probably meant he was going ahead with selling the child. With every moment that passed by, the baby was in greater danger.

  He asked Detective Dathan to put out an AMBER Alert for Jordan and the baby, and an APB on Zeke Rhodes. Then he called Lance and drilled him about the man and woman he’d seen in the Rhodes’s home that day, trying to take the baby.

  “The man looked a little like Sean Penn,” Lance said, “but his hair was kind of light brown and cut short, like a buzz cut that had had a couple of weeks to grow out. The woman’s hair was black, shoulder-length, with straight black bangs. I didn’t think of it then, but it might have been a wig. It didn’t go with her skin, you know? She was really pale, and her eyebrows were light.”

  “How old would you say they were?”

  “Old. Probably the same age as you and Mom.”

  Kent breathed a chuckle. “How were they dressed?”

  “The man had on a black bomber jacket, and the lady had a trench coat.”

  “Do you think you remember them enough to help an artist draw a composite sketch?”

  “Sure,” Lance said. “That’d be cool.”

  Since Dathan was tied up getting information on Zeke Rhodes’s vehicle, Kent took a moment to call the police chief.

  “Detective Harlan, good to hear from you.”

  “Chief Levin, I hope I haven’t disturbed you again.”

  “Not at all. Detective Dathan is keeping me informed on this case. It sounds like a case of child trafficking, doesn’t it?”

  “No question. And it’s bigger than this one case. Listen, I got a description of the man and woman who were trying to take Jordan Rhodes’s baby. Do you think we could get a composite artist to work with Lance to get a sketch of them?”

  “We don’t have our own here, but I could get one from another city. It would take a while to get her here.”

  “Might be worth it. He thinks the woman was in a wig, so maybe we could put some different hair on her. I’d like to put this out to the press. See if we can catch them and track down this baby.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Levin said. “Dathan already put out an AMBER Alert, even though it’s a little iffy. Since the baby’s mother’s involved, it’s not really a kidnapping. I can’t go to the press with accusations against this man and woman, because we have absolutely no evidence that they’ve done anything wrong.”

  “We have Jordan’s statement. And if we tell the press, maybe somebody else who’s been approached about selling their baby would come forward.”

  “Let’s wait until we have a little more evidence. Giving that information to the press could open a real can of worms, and give the perps time to get out of town. Jordan never saw any money change hands. I agree with your conclusions, but we can’t pull the press in until we’ve got a little more on them.”

  Kent wasn’t surprised. “I understand, but I thought it was worth a shot. Could you brief your patrol officers and fill them in on what we’re looking for?”

  “Yes, I’ll do that right away. Track down the baby, and my guess is you’ll find the traffickers too.”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “Listen — keep me updated. We’re trying to make a good impression so you’ll come work for us. Given that any more thought?”

  “Actually, I have. I’d like to talk more about that when all this is over, if you have some time.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.”

  Kent hung up, disappointed that there wouldn’t be a press conference. He refocused on the description of the traffickers, hoping he could find them before they skipped the country. “Hey, Dathan,” he said.

  Dathan looked back at him. “Yeah?”

  “Could you come with me to Juvie and interview the guys who were arrested Saturday night? Lance says they knew about these traffickers. Might be they could give us a little more information.”

  “Good idea,” Dathan said. “Let’s go now.”

  Chapter 46

  Jordan sat for several moments, trying to make her head stop spinning and her breath settle. She heard a car coming, half a mile up the flat road. She forced herself to her feet, stumbled toward the road, and tried to flag it down. But it kept going.

  She tried to get her bearings. They were on a lonely road outside of town. What roads had they taken to get here? Which direction? She had seen some buildings, a store and gas station, people. She heard a plane overhead and looked up. The plane banked and then came in low, descending, apparently about to land. But they were still too far above her to notice her.

  She could walk home. She took in a few deep breaths, then started back in the direction they’d come. She couldn’t be that far from home. They were still on her side of town, she thought. She’d see something she recognized soon. She just had to keep walking.

  She was about to collapse when a minivan turned onto the street and came her way. She waved her arms. This time it slowed, then pulled over beyond her. Jordan stumbled to it and got in.

  The driver looked like a soccer mom on her way to carpool, and she gasped when she saw Jordan. “Honey, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, my brother just dumped me out of his car. I need a ride somewhere.”

  “Your face! What happened? Did he hit you?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  The woman looked stricken. “Should we call the police?”

  Jordan’s mind raced. Would the police even listen to another kidnap accusation from her when she’d already admitted to lying about Lance? No, they’d blow her off as some messed-up meth addict. They wouldn’t even look for Grace.

  Besides, they might think she’d hurt Grace herself when they heard how she’d taken her from the hospital.

  “Honey?”

  Jordan shook her head. “No … not the police.” She made up her mind. She would go to Lance’s house. He would think of something.

  “But, sweetie, they need to know.”

  “I’ll call them from my friend’s house. His mother’s friend is a cop. He’ll help me.”

  “Okay, where is it?”

  She told the woman the street. She didn’t know the number, but she’d seen it before—joyriding in the family Dodge, just cruising the good side of town to see how the other half lived.

  On Lance’s street, she pointed out the house. “That one.” There wasn’t a car in the driveway. She hoped Lance was home.

  “Do you want me to go in with you?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  The woman couldn’t let go. “Honey, you might need medical attention. You look pretty bad.”

  “I’ll get help. Thank you for the ride.” She got out, feeling suddenly dizzy and drained of all energy. She took a moment to steady herself, hand on the car door.

  “Honey, how old are you?”

  She shook the fog out of her head. “Eighteen.” She hoped the lie would keep her from slowing Jordan down with Child Protection Services. They had already been notified when her mother was arrested.

  Jordan knew the woman wouldn’t leave until she got into the house. She walked unsteadily to the door and banged on it, praying Lance was there. Th
e minivan idled out front, the woman watching her with a troubled look. Finally, she heard movement inside, and Lance’s voice.

  “Who is it?”

  “Lance, it’s Jordan,” she called through the door. “Let me in! It’s an emergency!”

  The door flew open. “Where have you been?”

  Jordan stumbled inside. “I need your help!”

  Chapter 47

  The baby’s guttural cries were driving Zeke nuts. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on the sleeve of his army-green T-shirt and considered taking a quick detour to his supplier. It had been six hours since his last hit, and he was beginning to come down. Fatigue weighed on him like a lead jacket, and his eyelids were heavy. But he didn’t have any cash. If he could get to the ten grand his mother had deposited, he’d be fine. But the cops had put a freeze on her account, and now he couldn’t even scrape together twenty bucks for a quarter gram.

  He glanced in his rearview mirror, certain the cars behind him were tailing him. What had he been thinking, kicking his sister out of the car? The little tramp would call the police for sure. What if they were on his tail now, letting him lead them to the buyers?

  The baby’s screams made his head hurt. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and turned the radio loud, trying to drown her out. The heavy thrum of the bass guitar hit the off-beat as voices rapped about the upside of death.

  He tapped his hand on the steering wheel and glanced in the mirror again. The car he’d been watching had turned off, and now a new one followed. A yellow VW Bug, with some blonde-haired chick whose window was open, her hair flapping in the wind. She didn’t look like a cop.

  He amped the music up, feeling the vibration with every beat. It almost drowned out the sound of the kid. Swinging his head to the beat, he turned off the main road, taking the back way. The girl didn’t follow. He was good. Nobody was tailing him.

  But there were those cameras. They were on the tops of buildings, on stoplights, in street lanterns, though you couldn’t always see them. They were watching all the time … mocking him in his hunger … in his highs …

  Right in front of him, a plane descended as if coming in for a landing. It might be them—the buyers. They’d told him to look for a private jet sitting on a landing strip beside a hangar.

  These people were made of money. He wondered where the plane had come from, where it would be going next. He hoped they’d brought the other thirty grand in cash.

  The industrial buildings grew farther apart. He drove past a company with piles of lumber, then a lot with hundreds of old trailers lined up bumper to bumper. Then for a few minutes, only weeds and dirt … then, finally, what looked like a small airfield.

  Adrenaline jolted him like a hit of crank, lifting his fatigue, delaying his pangs. This was going to be good. Thirty grand in his hands … would it be small or large bills? How would they pack it?

  He would head right over to Belker’s after he got the money and buy a couple of eight-balls. Then he’d stash the money somewhere safe. He could postpone bailing his mother out for a while. He’d ride high, with no one to stop him. Maybe he could gamble with a couple thousand, and win even more.

  He found the hangar, and just beyond it, the landing strip. A small jet was slowly making its way up the runway toward the building. As he put the car in Park, the door to the hangar opened.

  Zeke cut off the radio, and once again, the baby’s high-pitched crying scratched through the air. “Calm down, kid,” he said. “You’re about to go on a airplane ride.”

  He got out and walked toward the man who appeared in the doorway. “Hey, man,” he said. “I got the kid. You got the cash?”

  The man went to the car, looked in at the baby. His face didn’t change. “Good job. Get it out and bring it in for me.”

  Zeke wasn’t crazy about that. First, he didn’t want to touch the baby. He’d seen it when it was first born, all slimy and sticky, as his mother yelled at Jordan to tie off the cord. Second, he didn’t like the idea of going into the building without somebody backing him up.

  But he supposed he’d have to if he wanted the cash. They weren’t going to count it out here in the open.

  He unhooked the seat belt and, lifting the baby seat out by its handle, he followed the man into the building. The swinging motion of the seat seemed to quiet the baby. He stepped into the hangar. There were a couple of cars parked there, and the woman he’d seen at his house and another man across the room.

  They crossed the building and peered into the car seat. “What about the seizures?” the man who called himself Nelson said.

  “She stopped having them,” Zeke said, not knowing whether that was the truth, and not really caring. “They sent some medicine. It’s in my car. You can have all the stuff they sent from the hospital.”

  The woman took the baby out of the seat and inspected it like it was an antique vase. The kid kicked and squirmed, mouth open wide, letting out a scream.

  “What about the girl?” the woman asked, setting the baby back in the seat. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “She got out of the car and I left her.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed to Nelson.

  “We told you to bring her with you,” he said.

  Zeke shook his head. “Nah, then she would have known where you were. She would have told the police. And she never would have let you take the kid.”

  “That was the deal,” Nelson said. “We told you to bring them both.”

  Zeke was getting sick of this. Were they trying to renege? “No, man, you didn’t. You told me to get her out of the hospital and make her get the baby, but you didn’t say nothing about bringing her here too.”

  The woman rolled her eyes as if she couldn’t believe how stupid he was. Her gaze shot to the other man. He had dark greasy hair and dark eyes and spoke with a heavy accent. “No, we have girl too. She worth more than bambino.”

  Zeke frowned. “Wait … you want Jordan to go with you?”

  The woman stiffened. He noticed her eyes for the first time. They were blue, but too blue, like she wore contact lenses. Her face was stretched in a bad face-lift, but her neck was wrinkled and droopy. “We need her to take care of the baby until we get it to the adoptive parents,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No, she’s no help. She’s a raving lunatic right now. She screams louder than the kid. You’ll have to take care of it yourself.”

  “Zeke,” Nelson said, “this is not negotiable. Your sister is part of the deal.”

  “You never said that!” he bit out. “Not to me or to my mother. Now where’s my money?”

  Nelson let out a long-suffering sigh, then he motioned for the others to follow him across the hangar.

  Zeke should have brought his gun in, but he’d been so excited to make the exchange that he’d left it on his seat. He looked toward the door.

  The three came back, and this time the stranger spoke. “You get girl to us, we give you twenty more.”

  He frowned. “Twenty thousand cash?”

  “Yes. Total fifty thousand.”

  This was a trick. They thought he was an idiot. “No way. I’m not leaving here without the thirty thousand you promised me. I have an appointment.” He wiped the sweat dripping into his eyes. “An important appointment, and I need the cash.”

  “We’ll give you a thousand now, and the rest when you bring her back,” Nelson said in a cold, flat voice.

  Zeke shook his head. “I’m not stupid, man! You said forty thousand. You gave my mother ten, and you owe me thirty. I want it now.”

  Nelson gave the woman another look, then he nodded. The woman disappeared into one of the rooms inside the hangar and came out with a backpack. She tossed it to Zeke.

  He caught it at his gut, then dropped to his knees, his hands shaking as he unzipped it and looked inside. There were six stacks of hundred dollar bills. He pulled one out and fanned through it.

  “Fifty to a stack, six stacks,” Nelson said.
>
  Zeke’s mouth grew dry and his skin prickled as he counted out each stack. Thirty thousand. He zipped the backpack and got to his feet, unable to restrain his grin. “And if I come back with Jordan, twenty more, right?”

  “That’s right,” the woman said. “But we need her now.”

  “And you’re flying them out of the country? The feds aren’t gonna show up at my door?”

  “We will be far from here,” the foreigner said.

  How would he find Jordan? By now, she’d probably had time to get back home, and she might have called the police. But he doubted it. More likely, she’d gone to one of Belker’s spots.

  In fact, since he had the cash, he would head over there himself and get high before he looked for Jordan. Everything would be easier if he did that first.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll bring her back as soon as I find her.”

  “You have two hours,” Nelson said. “If you aren’t back by then, we leave. But we’ll come back for you later.”

  Zeke knew the man didn’t mean they were coming back to pal around. “Don’t worry, guys,” he said. “I want that other twenty. I’ll be back in time.”

  They followed him back out to his car and he handed them the baby supplies. Then he screeched out of the concrete lot and headed out to score.

  Chapter 48

  The interview with Turk and the guys who were arrested with him didn’t turn up much. They swore they’d never told Lance anything about people wanting to buy babies. It was a clear case of kids not wanting to bring more trouble on themselves from someone who might not appreciate their loose tongues.

  As he and Dathan drove back to the precinct, Kent tried to work it all out in his mind. “Who would have access to pregnant girls in these neighborhoods?”

  “I’d say doctors, but poverty-stricken teens, especially the ones on drugs, aren’t big into prenatal care.”