by Dale Mayer
Not even a parking ticket was on his record. Neither was a marriage or a child. She also hadn’t run down any family. Foster care, yes, but no sealed juvie records either. It was damn suspicious. Nobody was perfect, especially not a guy as smooth and as silky as this one. She walked past the entrance to his apartment and over to the pretzel seller across the street. She bought one hot off the cart.
Then she sat down on a nearby bench and ate while she waited, enjoying the beautiful scenery of the harbor. At ten to eight St. Laurant came out, dressed in a suit, looking just a little too dapper for her. She’d only gotten five hours of sleep, and who knows what the hell he had had. By the looks of him, it was way more than her, and, for that, she hated him already. She got up, tossed her pretzel wrapper into the garbage, and followed him, staying a block behind.
When she crossed the street to the next block, a man behind her asked, “Detective, what are you doing here so early? Are you looking for me?”
She knew she was made. She glanced at him, took a sip of her coffee. “What the hell?” she said sarcastically. “Everything isn’t about you, by the way.” She’d always learned it was much better to be offensive than defensive. It seemed to work this time too. He frowned and looked around. “We do have crime in the city,” she said.
“Maybe,” he said. “So what brings you out so early?”
“I have to meet someone,” she said. “What are you doing out here this morning? Why aren’t you lying on your silk sheets?”
“They’re actually linen,” he said. “Much nicer on the skin.”
She gave an irritable shrug. “Whatever.”
“I’m guessing you sleep on cheap polyester,” he said, with a sneer. “And don’t even know the difference between linen, polyester, silk, or cotton.”
She shrugged and said, “I just sleep.”
“Not last night, you didn’t,” he said, his gaze intent.
She deliberately turned away from him. “See you later,” she said and headed to one of the big public buildings up ahead. Except he wasn’t deterred.
“I’m going this way too.”
“Sure you are,” she said in a tone of disbelief.
“What? Now you think I’m following you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m looking into these kids.” She locked her glare on him. “Remember? The ones you dangled information on, then pulled back.”
“I didn’t dangle any information,” he said in frustration.
She slid a sideways glance at him. He definitely did look like he was frustrated. Why? What was his game? If he wasn’t involved, he knew who was. As far as she was concerned, at this moment, that was the same thing, but she needed whatever information he had. “Whatever information, whoever you think is doing this, whatever you know,” she said, deliberately avoiding the fact that she thought he was involved, “you need to tell me.”
He stopped, looked at her. “Are we back to that again?”
“Back to what?” She opened her eyes wider.
“It wasn’t me.”
“Of course not,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s never you.”
He took a slow deep breath. “You really think I’m involved though, don’t you?”
“I don’t know jack shit,” she said. “I know that I have a boy in the morgue and cold case files involving several dead children,” she said, “and that is never good.”
“Apparently another one went missing last night,” he said, thinking about his ex-fiancée.
She stopped, turned, and looked at him. “What?”
“Somebody I know.”
“What I want,” she said, “is the name of whoever is involved in this. If you know,” she said, pointing her finger at him before poking him in the chest, “I want to know too.”
“I don’t know anything about these kids,” he said. “But my ex called me to say her nephew was missing.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What? Did she report it?”
“I didn’t even think to tell her to call the cops,” he said in confusion. “I should have though, shouldn’t I?”
“Well, let’s hope somebody did,” she cried out. “Why’d she call you? What the hell would you do about it anyway?”
He didn’t have an answer for it; he just stared at her.
Yet something was in his gaze, something that made her stop and frown. “What were you planning on doing?”
“I wasn’t planning,” he said, his voice hard and clipped, “on doing anything.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You carry on,” he said. “I’ve had a change of plans.” And, with that, he turned and walked away.
Only she wasn’t through. She raced up behind him, grabbed his arm, and turned him around. “What do you know about this missing boy?”
The look in his eyes was haunted. “I don’t know anything,” he snapped. “For all I know, the boy and other cases are unrelated.”
“I hope so,” she said. “Otherwise we have a problem in the city.”
He took a slow deep breath. “Some of those cases are very old.”
“Yes,” she said in a soft voice. “Isn’t it time to help us put a stop to it?”
She didn’t know if she was getting to him or not. She knew that, if she told her boss about this, he’d have her bring Simon in, and they would sit there and interview him for hours until he broke. And maybe that’s what they needed to do. She just wanted to see if he had a child with him. If they took him in, and he had somebody hidden somewhere who would slowly die, that would be even worse. She didn’t want to do anything that would endanger another child.
She watched as Simon disappeared on her. She pulled out her phone and called Missing Persons. After identifying herself, she asked for Jennifer, someone there she knew. When Jennifer came on the line, Kate asked, “Do you have a missing boy? As in a last-night kind of thing?”
“Yes. It was called in around dinnertime. The Amber alert went out a few moments later. Didn’t you, hear?” she asked curiously. “The little boy is seven, normally walks home with friends. Yesterday the friend was sick, so he walked home alone, but he didn’t make it.”
“No updates?”
“No.” Jennifer’s voice turned heavy. “He just disappeared off the face of the earth.”
Kate winced at that because, of course, they never did. It just seemed that way. They could search high and low, but it was damn near impossible without something—someone—to point them in the right direction. Over two-and-a-half-million people were in the city and its surrounding areas; any one of them could be holding that child. And unfortunately the child could already be dead. “Let me know if you get any updates,” she said.
“Wait, wait, how did you hear about it?”
She quickly explained about Simon.
“I want to talk to him,” Jennifer said.
“You do that,” Kate replied. “He’s not very helpful though.”
“Do you think this guy is involved with your case?”
“Somehow, yes,” she said. “I just don’t know in what way.”
Jennifer hesitated.
“You talk to him,” Kate said, giving her Simon’s name and number. “If we could just save one child, maybe I’d get more clues for the next.”
“Do you think he’s got one?”
“I’m not sure what he’s got or what he knows, but he knows more than he’s telling me. I’m sure of that.”
And she hung up.
*
“That didn’t turn out the way I expected,” Simon snapped to himself. Something was so very irritating and so very magnificent about her. He wanted to hate her but knew they were well past that point. What she didn’t understand was that she and Simon were on a trajectory that would take them someplace personal. Hell, he could read the signs, even if she was in denial. A trajectory he would do anything to avoid. The last thing he wanted was a cop in his world. He hated them, always had. And, from the looks of it, she hated everybody like him too.
It was Thursday
, and a weekend cruise left almost every Friday afternoon. He checked his watch, got on his phone, to confirm the next few weekends were available, leaving his options open. Even if the gambling lost him money, he needed to get the hell out of town for a bit. He didn’t want to be anywhere close by, if something went down with Leonard. God, he hoped not. No child should endure that. But a solid alibi might change Kate’s opinion of him.
As soon as he hung up the phone, it rang again. This time it was the Missing Persons Division. His heart chilled that the detective had passed his name on to somebody handling Leonard’s case. “I don’t know anything about it,” he snapped. “Talk to my ex-fiancée. She was the one who called me.”
“I have,” the officer said. “And she said that you know more than you’re telling.”
He stopped and stared out across the ocean. “I don’t know anything,” he said heavily, feeling the pressure weigh in on him. “I can give you a full rundown of where I was all of yesterday and today,” he said. “And you’ll see I was nowhere close.”
“Why don’t you tell me about that first?” she said. He quickly went through the list of addresses where he went to check on his jobsites.
“These are all yours?”
“Yes,” he snapped. “They are all mine. They are building projects.”
“That’s a lot of potential locations to hide a child.”
Everything inside him went still. Just the thought was so abhorring, he wanted to upchuck on the spot. Either that or pound the next person he saw into the ground. The closest one available appeared to be an old lady, somewhere in her mid-seventies, pushing a square shopping cart in front of her. That was probably not a good idea. He finally said, “Listen. Either arrest me or leave me alone.” Then he hung up his phone.
Standing here for a long moment, he looked down at his hands, not surprised to see a tremor sliding through them. Of all the criminals in the world that he could possibly be, a pedophile was not one of them. Not after his own nightmares at the hands of one. Of course the cops would look at that and might actually see motive. Supposedly victims of sexual abuse grew up to be sexual abusers themselves. Simon shook his head at that disgusting thought. The cops seemed to see the abuse as grooming or training.
So far, he’d avoided having anybody looking into his background too much. Most people saw him on the front page of the newspaper, a philanthropist, as he worked on this charity or that. But, at the very best times, he was out of the public eye, away from everybody. He didn’t want anyone in his life, and he didn’t want anyone close to him. Case in point, Caitlin. Simon had screwed up there.
Such anger was inside him that he wanted to call the detective and to swear at her for having passed on his name. Even as he was dialing, he looked away—all she was doing was trying to find a child.
So, he could hate what she’d done, but he could never hate her reason for doing it.
Making a strangled sound, he shoved his phone into his pocket and stormed back the way he’d come. He had a full day ahead of him. But he’d already wasted an hour, and, at the moment, it looked like his day would just get worse. Using the anger to fuel his efforts, he made it through half a day, before storming back to his penthouse. By the time he got in his front door, his phone was ringing again. It was his ex. “Now what?”
“Did the cops call you?”
“Of course, since you set them on me.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she cried out. “He’s missing. Don’t you understand that?”
“I can’t help. Don’t you understand that?” he roared back. “For six months, all you’ve done is make my life a living hell, and now, because your nephew is missing, you think I’ll turn around and do something for you? What do you expect me to do?”
“I was hoping you would,” she said, her voice very small. “I was hoping you wouldn’t hold anything I’ve done against an innocent child, who you could help.”
“What are you talking about?” he said. “I don’t know anything. I can’t tell you who picked him up or where he is.”
“No,” she said and hesitated a moment, then went on. “But I know what you’re like in the night.”
Everything inside him stilled. He took a slow long deep breath. “What do you mean by that?”
“You have nightmares,” she said. “You are always crying out about kids. I used to wake up and sit on the bed and watch. Sometimes I even taped you.”
He sank on the couch in shock. “You what?” The acute betrayal was so loud and so shocking, he didn’t even know what to say.
“I got rid of them,” she cried out. “I didn’t know what to do with them anyway. I wanted to ask you about them. Then I realized how angry you were.”
“Angry,” he said, in a very silky voice, “doesn’t begin to express how I feel right now.”
She took several deep breaths. “I got rid of everything. I promise.”
“I doubt it,” he said. “You are exactly the kind of person who would use it for blackmail.”
“No,” she said, “I won’t.”
“As long as?”
“As long as you help find my nephew,” she whispered.
“So, in other words, you didn’t get rid of them, and now you are blackmailing me,” he said. “Nice. Very nice.”
“I’m sorry,” she said brokenly. “I have to help my nephew.”
“And, of course, you went to the cops right away, right?”
“Well, I didn’t go right away,” she said crossly. “But I called as soon as I could.”
“Your nephew,” he said, “were you responsible for picking him up and bringing him home yesterday?”
Silence.
He nodded. “Now I get the picture,” he said. “You’re feeling guilty because he was your responsibility, and you didn’t look after him properly.” He gave a harsh laugh. “Doesn’t that figure?”
“I need your help,” she said. “He’s just a little boy.”
“If I help, it will be for the boy. It won’t be for you. Or your stupid recordings.”
And he hung up the phone. But inside, a fury like he hadn’t felt in a long time rattled through his soul. He sat down at his desk and made plans.
*
“A child is missing?” He stared at the TV. “Well, I haven’t got him,” he said. “Too damn bad. I wouldn’t be sitting here all alone if I did.” Of course he wasn’t completely alone. He still had the little China Doll girl, propped up on the couch beside him. But he couldn’t keep her for long. Not that it was a her anymore and was just an it. But, with everybody out looking for this newly missing little boy named Leonard, he would have to watch carefully for a chance to get rid of it. He sighed. “What am I to do with you?”
But his gaze kept going back to the TV. When a child went missing, everybody got up in arms. He knew; he’d been responsible for over thirty or so going missing himself. He looked at the ledger he kept off to the side. Beautiful memories. His sister wanted that ledger badly. But he’d never let her know where it was. He’d also never let her come over to his place, and honestly she never wanted to because she didn’t want to deal with the truth of the children. He figured that, somewhere in the back of her mind, she was still hoping he was making it all up.
Before he had started this hobby of his, he’d fantasized about it nonstop. And, as he had gone down his pathway, she had gone down another. She was a doctor, fascinated by what he did. He sometimes wondered if they would have a relationship if he was anyone other than who he was. A specimen to study.
He stared over at the broken China Doll beside him and said, “Tonight, tonight, we’ll put you to rest.” Just then an announcer on the television talked about the Amber Alert again.
“Aren’t we done yet? My God, you’d think there weren’t enough children in this world,” he snapped. “It’s just a boy. Just one, honestly, when probably a dozen went missing tonight, but you only care about the one on the news.” An image of the boy flashed on the TV. He looked at
it in wonder. “Oh, he’s beautiful,” he said in delight. He leaned forward to see the name flash on the bottom of the screen. Leonard Hanover.
“Well, Leonard, you know something? If you are found,” he said, “you might just have to go missing again. Or do you have a brother?”
He quickly brought up the internet on his laptop, searching for Leonard Hanover. It came up with all the same news articles that he was currently watching. A little rundown on the family but not much. A little more research showed that he was the only child of a single mom.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he said. “You’re perfect. Now we might just rescue you from someone else in order to take you for ourselves.” He smiled. “Wouldn’t that be great?” he said. “If I find out who took you and then take you back,” he said, “they’d get blamed, and nobody would know about me.” He really loved that. And then he stared out the window, wondering. He knew a couple guys, twisted and odd when it came to kids. Guys like him. They belonged to a secret group.
He glanced back at the China Doll. “Two birds with one stone. What were they up to? I’ll get rid of you and pick him up, if I can find him,” he said, and he rubbed his hands together, absolutely loving the challenge facing him.
“This is a great twist,” he said. “So much more than I’d hoped for.” He glanced back at the TV. “It’s okay, Leonard. Hold on. I’m coming.”
Chapter 8
Thursday Afternoon
Jennifer called Kate back almost two hours later. “I checked Simon’s whereabouts and verified where he said he’d been. He wasn’t seen anywhere close to the school either, so, at the moment, I don’t believe he had anything to do with Leonard’s disappearance.”
“Interesting,” Kate murmured, wondering at the relief coursing through her, “and what about the aunt who was supposed to be looking after Leonard?”
“She still says that Simon knows something about it.”
“Does she say what?”