by Style, Linda
“Good. Anything on our guy in the hospital?”
Rico scanned the last sheet. “Not yet. AFIS was down for a while. And since I have to wait for the information to get here anyway, I’m going to interview some of the former residents.”
Jordan scratched his head. “Yeah. But since the Ray case isn’t on our priority list, we might want to pay attention to some of the cases that are.”
Jordan was right. “Man, I’m sorry. I’ll do this other stuff on my own time.”
“Hey, I wasn’t saying we shouldn’t do it. I think you’re close to finding something, and a case solved is a case solved, whether it’s on the list or not.”
“We? You keep saying we when you know I don’t want you getting involved.”
“I want to. I was on the old case, too. Remember?”
He could always count on Jordan to back him. Jordan and Rico were as close as Rico was with any of his brothers. Maybe even closer. Rico shook his head. “It could go nowhere. But if you want to help, maybe you can answer a question for me.”
“Shoot.” Jordan clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair.
“If you were going to find your biological mother, how would you start?”
Jordan looked surprised. “But I’m not.”
“It’s a hypothetical question.”
His partner’s eyes lit. “For Macy. Right?”
Rico didn’t answer, but Jordan knew him too well.
“I’d register with every agency that lists parents and children who are searching for each other. I’d do an online search for anyone trying to find a child born on my birthday. If nothing showed there, I’d get the name of the adoption agency.”
Despite his protests otherwise, Jordan had obviously done some research on the subject.
“Then what? Adoption records are closed.”
“Unless both parties involved agree to open them.”
“You mean the biological mother and the adoptive parents.”
Jordan nodded.
“And if the mother and adoptive parents don’t agree?”
“You could hire an adoption investigator or find a way to let the biological parent know you’re interested in making contact. And then the ball would be in the other court.”
Rico knew the name of the adoption agency Haven’s Gate used. He wondered how difficult it would be to get information from them about how many babies they’d received for adoption from Haven’s Gate on the date Macy’s child was born. All he really wanted was the truth about what happened to Macy’s baby.
“That’s good information. Now let’s get to work on the other stuff.”
Jordan thought for a moment. “Yeah, well, I’m going to work on the Boling case. See if I can get some new results on the evidence collected at the time of the murder. I don’t need any help for that.”
“Thanks.”
Rico spent the morning getting current addresses and phone numbers, then made calls and appointments to see three of the women he’d interviewed five years before.
On his way to Trudy Danko’s place in Fullerton, he went over the facts in his head. The file showed she’d left the facility the day before the kidnapping and one of the other girls had said she’d stood looking at the babies in the nursery for a long time. But her parents had picked her up right after that and took her home.
He located the address and went to the door. Though Trudy was willing to talk with him, after ten minutes with her, he was ready to climb the rafters. She’d had four more kids since her stay at Haven’s Gate — all under five. She was fifteen then, which meant she couldn’t be more than twenty now. But she didn’t have anything new to add about Haven’s Gate and what she did say was exactly what she’d said before. How did someone remember events in the exact details five years later?
LaVonne Smith and Terin Valetti were next. Holly Magruder was also on the list, but he hadn’t gotten an answer at her place.
Three hours later, after his interviews with Smith and Valetti, he was sitting in his vehicle puzzling over the differences between the interviews today and the ones from five years ago. Every answer to every question was the same as five years before. He’d asked new questions about the doctor and the staff, and one woman’s answer was almost the same as the next. As if they’d rehearsed. Had they talked to someone at Haven’s Gate? Had they been coached? Paid off?
He looked at Holly Magruder’s last address in Long Beach and decided to go even though he hadn’t made an appointment. A surprise visit might get him a different response. He turned onto the freeway and headed down 210 to 405 toward the beach, glancing at his watch as he drove. It was getting late and he’d not heard anything from Macy. He punched in her direct office number.
“Macy,” he said, relieved when she answered. “I’ve been trying to get in touch.”
“Sorry about that. I had … a lot to do today. They fixed the door and the locks. I had a new security system installed, too.”
Her voice sounded shaky, not firm and confident as he was used to hearing her.
“I didn’t have time to get all my things out of your place yet. I’ll come by to get the rest when I’m done here.” She paused. “If that’s okay.”
“There’s no hurry.”
“Thanks. I appreciate your hospitality—”
“Why don’t you stay another day or two?” he said. He could tell she was hesitant to stay at her own place. Going there must’ve unnerved her. But would she admit it? Hell, no. “Just to get your bearings. It would be tough for anyone to go back to a place where—” He stopped. “Well, you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean.”
“So you’ll stay a little longer then?”
She didn’t answer and he finally said, “I need to talk to you about some things anyway, so say you’ll stay.”
After another pause she said, “Okay. But I won’t be finished here until about seven. And I have a lot to do that I didn’t get done over the weekend.”
He wasn’t going to let her use that as an excuse. “Bring it along.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
“Good.” He smiled, pleased with himself. He hadn’t felt this good all day.
After talking with Macy, Rico was ready to go back to work and a half hour later, he pulled up to the building with the last address he had for Holly Magruder. He exited his vehicle and searched for the apartment number. The place was a wreck. Public assistance housing was his guess. Finding number 228, he knocked and held his badge up to the peephole in the door so whoever answered would know he was there on business and wasn’t a bill collector.
He heard a click, then another, and another. The door opened about three inches, held back by a chain lock. An older woman, who looked as if she’d seen more than her share of bad days, peered out.
He held up his badge again. “Detective Santini. I’m here to talk to Holly Magruder.”
The last lock slid off and the woman opened the door another few inches. “What did you say, Officer?”
“I’m Detective Santini. I’d like to speak with Holly Magruder. I talked with her parents five years ago about a case because Holly was in the hospital then.”
The woman hesitated. “Oh, I remember. Her mother told me. Yes, Holly was in the hospital then.”
“Right. I have this as her last address. Is she here now?”
She shook her head. “Holly’s dead. Four years now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nanny, I want to go to the store now.” A child’s voice came from behind the woman.
“We will, sweetheart. In a little while.”
Rico saw a child with dark hair pulling on the woman’s housedress.
“My great-grandson,” the woman said softly. “I take care of him.”
The boy smiled and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He pulled back and hid behind his grandmother’s legs.
“Holly’s child?” Rico asked.
The woman shook her head.
“No.”
Well, that ended his afternoon of interviews, which hadn’t netted him one shred of new information.
“Well, I’m sorry I bothered you,” Rico said and went back to his car, which now had some tagger’s artwork scrawled all over the side. Fortunately he still had tires. He scanned the area but there was no one in sight. He wasn’t surprised.
He swung the car around and headed back to the station. Most of the detectives on his shift were gone and the guys on the next watch were in the briefing room. He grabbed Chelsey Ray’s file and headed back to his car, calling Macy while in transit. No answer. Odd. She said she’d be there by seven and it was now after eight.
He called Macy’s office. No answer there, either. His adrenaline surged. He tried her cell phone. After five rings the recorder picked up. Damn. She should be there.
Fear tightened like a vise around his chest.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“CODY!” MACY CALLED OUT. “Where are you?” She rubbed her arms as darkness settled and the street lamps clicked on in the park, offering little light to find a missing child.
“Are you sure you checked everywhere in and around the house?” Macy asked Nancy Appleton.
“Joe and I looked inside and out. We’ve checked and double checked.”
Macy’s heart pounded. “Where would he go? Why?”
“He had a fight with Michael and I sent them both to their rooms. Later, when I called him for dinner, he was gone and the window was open.”
“So if he left right away, he’s been gone approximately how long?”
“Four hours or so.”
Four hours. The boy could be miles away. “And when did you call the police?”
“Right after I talked to you. I didn’t know he was gone until I went into his room.” The woman wrung her hands. “After this, I just don’t think I’m going to be able to keep him any longer. I’m going to talk to his social worker and see if she can find a different placement.”
Macy stopped in her tracks, her anger flaring. “Cody is missing… He’s five years old and he’s out here somewhere all alone. We don’t know if he left on his own or was kidnapped and all you can think of is…yourself?”
Nancy looked away from Macy’s accusing glare.
“If that’s your attitude, then you damn well better not take him back or any other kids for that matter.” Macy fought the urge to smack the woman. But finding Cody was more important. She wasn’t going to waste her time on the woman. Not now, anyway.
Just then a squad car pulled up, red lights rotating.
“Ma’am,” one of the officers said. “We understand you have a missing child.”
“He’s a foster child,” Nancy said.
“I’m the boy’s court-appointed advocate. I came to the park because I took Cody here last weekend and he seemed to enjoy it.”
“We live over there,” Nancy said, pointing down the street.
Macy saw a couple of squad cars parked in front of the house.
“I know,” the taller officer said. “We’re getting information from your husband right now.”
“What kind of information?” Nancy’s eyes widened as if she expected to be grilled like some criminal with something to hide. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I wasn’t suggesting you did,” the officer stated. “The information we need relates to what will help us in the search. Hair and eye color, how tall the boy is, what he was wearing. That kind of thing.”
“Well, Joe is probably the last person to ask. He doesn’t pay that much attention to the kids. Cody was wearing a red shirt, jeans and white tennis shoes.”
“Then I’d suggest that you ladies go back home and give those officers the information, too. We’ll put out an Amber Alert and hopefully we’ll find him fast. It’s better if you’re at home in case he comes back.”
“Okay,” Nancy said and started walking toward her house.
Macy didn’t move.
“Might be better if you go, too, until we determine what’s going on.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Macy stated. “Not until we find Cody.”
She heard a faint ringing and remembered she’d put her cell phone in her purse. She pulled out the phone and recognized Rico’s number. Lord, it was way past the time he had expected her. “Hi. Sorry I’m late.”
“Late? That’s an understatement. Where are you?” he demanded, anger vibrating in his voice.
“Cody ran away from his foster home and we’re looking for him.”
“Did you contact the police?”
“Of course. Several officers are here now. They’ll issue an Amber alert once they get the particulars. I’ll be back when I can,” Macy said.
“Let me talk to one of the officers, will you?”
Macy handed the phone to the closest cop. “It’s a friend of mine, Detective Santini, LAPD.”
While she waited, Macy scanned the area, noticing some tall shrubbery beyond the swings. Had she looked there yet? God knew she felt as if she covered the park shrub by shrub. But a little boy could be anywhere and if he was hiding, he could move around if he saw someone coming. She started toward the bushes.
“Wait a minute, Ms. Capshaw.”
She stopped at the officer’s voice.
“Here you are, ma’am.”
She went back for her phone.
“Detective Santini asked me to tell you to stay put. He’ll be here shortly.”
“I’m just going to check over there.” She continued to cross to the bushes beyond the swings. She was relieved Rico was coming. They needed all the help they could get and she knew Rico well enough to know she could trust him not to interrogate Cody if they found him.
Reaching the bushes, she looked first for any sign a child might’ve been there. Nothing. She searched underneath, around and behind the thorny branches. Nothing. Stumbling out from behind, she felt a strong hand steady her.
“Careful.”
“Rico. I’m so glad you’re here.”
He held her briefly. “Where have you looked?”
“The house. The neighborhood within a mile and a half radius. Here at the park. Any place we thought he might go. Do you have any other ideas?”
He thought for a minute. “The bus depot?”
“But that’s so far away and I don’t think he’d even know how to get there. Why there?”
“Because that’s where he was initially found. He’s had several hours to figure out where it is and how to get there. If he was on the streets for very long when he was found before, he probably knows more about survival than you think he does.”
Rico was right. “Let’s go.”
The next thing she knew, they were at the depot, checking the face of every child Cody’s size, whether the child was with someone or not. After a quick sweep of the place, Rico went to the ticket counter and showed his badge.
“I’m looking for a boy. Five years old and he’s alone.”
“Dark brown hair,” Macy added. “And he was wearing a red shirt, blue jeans and white tennis shoes.”
The older man behind the ticket counter gave them a blank stare.
“Have you seen anyone who looks like that?”
“Nope. Kids aren’t allowed to hang around without an adult.”
Unable to conceal her disappointment, Macy’s eyes welled with moisture. They’d wasted more time. She punched in the Appletons’ phone number to see if Cody had come home.
“Yeah?” Joe answered.
“Joe, this is Macy Capshaw. Anything new?”
“Nope. And the cops say the longer he’s gone, the worse the chances are…”
Macy bit her lip.
She heard a deep cigarette cough on the other end. “The worse the chances of finding him okay.”
She knew the odds. She’d heard it more than once when other kids went missing. The first forty-eight hours are critical. “Thanks,” she said. “We’re going to continue looking and I’d suggest you do t
he same.” She clicked off without saying goodbye, afraid her anger would grow into something unmanageable.
She glanced at Rico. “Nothing. They don’t have a clue.”
Rico suddenly grabbed Macy’s arm. “What color did you say he was wearing?”
“Red.”
Rico took off across the room, navigating the seats and people sleeping on the floor, before disappearing into the men’s room. Macy ran over, too, then waited. When he didn’t come out right away, she decided men’s room or not, she didn’t care. But just as she reached for the door, it burst open and Rico came out with a child in tow.
“Oh, my God! Cody.” Macy kneeled to hug him. “Oh thank God you’re okay.” She hugged him so hard she thought she might hurt him.
At the same time, she heard Rico making a phone call to the police.
Macy walked Cody to a bench and sat next to him. “What made you run away, Cody? We were so worried.”
He looked down, chin practically resting on his chest. “I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted.”
“Oh, Cody.” She pulled him into another hug, but words cramped in her throat. What was she going to say. The Appletons care about you and want you to come home? “Why do you say that?”
“I just know it.”
“Well, something must’ve happened. Something bad enough to make you run away.”
“I was bad. They don’t like me cuz I’m bad.”
Her heart wrenched again. “Most kids do bad things once in a while, but that doesn’t mean they’re bad. And it’s the parents’ job to make sure they don’t do it again. Discipline doesn’t mean they don’t like you. The Appletons were just doing their job, weren’t they?”
He nodded, but she could tell he didn’t believe it. He felt unwanted and if Nancy gave off the same vibes to Cody as she did earlier, she couldn’t blame him. A child could tell when he was loved and when he wasn’t.
“Why did you come to the bus depot?”
He kept his head down. “I thought maybe someone would look for me here.”
“Someone?”
“My mommy or daddy.”
Oh, Cody. Macy swallowed a huge lump in her throat and fighting back tears, she became aware that Rico was standing over her, staring at Cody. She remembered how desperately he’d wanted to see the boy.