Exposed

by Rhonda Pollero

  “We can drop the key off to you at work,” Darby suggested.

  “That’s fine. I work at the Manor’s Nursing Home. Know where that is?”

  Darby nodded and Ali handed over the key.

  “Thank you,” Darby said earnestly.

  “Roxanne is in deep shit, isn’t she?” Ali asked.

  Darby nodded. “I think so. If I can find her, I think I’ll find my daughter.”

  “I know who you are from the TV,” Ali admitted. “So the baby isn’t dead?”

  “No. Sean took her and Roxanne has been having an affair with my husband for months.”

  “He’s her boss, right?” Ali asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so,” Ali said. “I started noticing changes in her about a month after she took that job.”

  “Is there anyone else you can think of who Roxanne would confide in?”

  “She’s pretty close to her family. She calls her mom every Sunday at ten-thirty.”

  “Where does her family live?” Jack asked.

  “Charleston.”

  They were leaving the apartment together when Jack asked, “Did Roxanne ever mention a relative named Glen Burnie? An uncle, maybe? Or a cousin?”

  Ali wasn’t familiar with the name. “But you might want to talk to her friend Meghan. Meghan Jones and Roxanne moved here together from Charleston. They’ve been friends since elementary school.”

  Ali gave them an address. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” Darby said.

  Darby and Jack got in the car and were just backing out of the parking lot when the throwaway phone rang. She scrambled to find it in her purse and answered on the second ring. “Sean?”

  “You sound frantic, my darling.”

  She cringed at the term of endearment. “Please, Sean. Name your price or whatever else you want and give me back my baby.”

  “She’s my baby, too,” Sean said.

  “C’mon. We both know you don’t want to be saddled with an infant. I promise I’ll be fair, Sean. We can even discuss visitation.” Her heart was pounding and the only thing keeping her tethered to her own sanity was the feel of Jack’s hand on her shoulder.

  “That’s a joke and you know it. You gave me no choice but to take care of the Consuela problem. I should have known she’d be more loyal to you than to me. All I really needed was for her to take care of Mia until you and I could work out a settlement. Now that time has passed.”

  “We can still work one out,” Darby insisted.

  “Right. I’m now looking at mandatory life in prison without the possibility of parole. I won’t come back to Florida. So you can forget about ever seeing your daughter again.”

  “Sean, don’t so this. I can give you enough money to move to another country. One with no extradition treaty with the U.S. Just give me back my baby.”

  There was a brief pause, then Sean, sounding more relaxed said, “Now you’re thinking, Darby. But I’ll need a lot of cash to start over again.”

  “Okay. Name the price and I’ll do a wire transfer after you return Mia.”

  “I’m not stupid, Darby. The minute you get the baby, you’ll renege on the deal.”

  “Then what is your suggestion?”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  The line went dead.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Their first stop was the storage facility. Jack called the detectives about the ring in the car while Darby opened the padlock on the unit. Cool air whooshed out of the door as soon as she pushed it up and open. Thankfully the unit was air conditioned.

  It was a small unit, maybe eight-by-eight and it was packed with boxes, lawn equipment and more boxes. As soon as Darby found the switch on the wall, she bathed the area in light. After scanning the crowded space, she spotted the “Important Documents” boxes.

  “There they are,” she said as she moved other boxes out of her way. “Someone’s been here,” she said, finding the boxes open and copies of tax returns in the name of Roxanne Kolkina set off to the side.

  Jack joined her and said, “I just spoke to the cops and they’ve been here. Oh, and they weren’t too thrilled to hear we found Consuela’s ring in Roxanne’s car.”

  “Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in local law enforcement,” Darby said as she began sifting through paperwork.

  Jack grabbed the second box and did the same. As they worked side by side, he asked, “I know this is tacky, but exactly how much money do you have?”

  She smiled over at him. “Cash, property, investments…between four and five million.”

  He whistled. “And how much of that are you willing to give Sean?”

  “Everything. I want Mia back. By the way, you don’t happen to know what countries don’t have extradition treaties with the U.S., do you?”

  “I can check,” Jack said. He took out his phone and asked Siri for the list.

  Darby hadn’t heard of most of the countries, but the ones she recognized she had a hard time picturing Sean fitting into. With one exception: Sean would probably love Morocco. She found an empty folder marked “passport” and her heart sank. “What if she needed her passport because they’re already planning on leaving the country?” Darby’s chest constricted with fear.

  “He’s not going to leave with just the twenty-two grand he got off your credit card cash advance,” he reasoned. “If that was enough he would have left the country long before now.”

  “I didn’t hear the baby cry this time,” Darby said. Each syllable she’d spoken betrayed her sadness. “What if…”

  Jack wrapped her in his arms. “Don’t even think it,” he reassured her.

  “The next time he calls I’m going to have to have some sort of proof of life.”

  “Make him take a picture of the baby with a current newspaper. You don’t want him cutting off her ear or anything crazy.”

  She rested her head against his chest and felt the even rhythm of his breathing. It had a calming effect on her frazzled nerves. She loved the way he smelled and loved the way she fit so comfortably in his arms. In fact, there was a lot to love about this man. Her world with Sean seemed like a lifetime ago now. Yes, she still felt the shame of not reaching out for help, and the responsibility for the deaths of her parents and her housekeeper. But in Jack’s arms she felt safe and special.

  Still, there was doubt in the back of her mind. She had fallen for Sean in a matter of hours and look at how that had turned out. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to trust her choices again. Had Sean taken that from her as well? Not being able to trust her gut was maddening, especially when it came to Jack. He’d shown her nothing but care and concern and yet she still had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind. She felt like he was too good to be true. Then again, she would have said the same thing about Sean. At least in the beginning.

  “I’m not seeing anything else here,” Jack said as he placed a quick kiss on her forehead.

  “Me either. Let’s go see Meghan. Maybe she can shed some light on Roxanne.”

  Jack relocked the unit, then said, “I think Roxanne is going to be the key. If we can find her, we’ll find Mia.”

  “Unless she does something to piss Sean off in the meantime.”

  They dropped the storage unit key off to Ali, then went on to Meghan’s place. It was a small duplex in Jensen Beach with a beat-up Honda parked in the sandy driveway.

  Walking up the overgrown walkway, Darby was still warring privately with herself. How could she be so attracted to Jack when she was in the middle of the biggest life crisis known to mankind? They had just reached the door when Jack’s cellphone rang.

  He mouthed “the cops” to her before he had a brief conversation, then hung up. “They want you—well, us—to come to the station in an hour.”

  “Why?” Darby asked.

  “They’ve called in the FBI. There’s an agent on his way to coordinate with the local cops.”

  “Is that good?” Darby asked.
r />   “Really good,” Jack assured her, then he pressed the doorbell.

  A cute brunette with a pixie haircut and big green eyes opened the door. Her smile was bright and genuine. “May I help you?” she asked.

  Jack handed over his card. “Can we talk to you about Roxanne Kolkna?”

  Meghan shrugged. “C’mon in.”

  Her apartment was adorable. All shabby chic and creative touches that seemed to mirror the occupant. Darby, at five-four, towered over the tiny young woman.

  They sat in chairs across from her sofa separated by a round table, a simple piece of glass over a battered frame filled with sand and shells. On top of the table an ocean breeze candle flickered and scented the air.

  “You’re the lady with the baby, right?” Meghan asked. “This morning’s newspaper said all charges against you were being dropped and that your baby is missing.”

  “I think my daughter is with Roxanne,” Darby said. “Do you have any idea where she might be?”

  “I can’t see Roxanne stealing a baby,” Meghan said, then she pressed her fingers together in a prayerlike position. The tips of her middle fingers touched just below her bottom lip. “Unless it has to do with the guy.”

  “Who is ‘the guy’?” Jack asked.

  “Don’t know his name,” Meghan insisted. “Roxie was really hush-hush about him but she was nutty in love.”

  “Have you heard from her in the last few days?”

  Meghan shook her head. “But I’m sure she’s talked to her mother. They’re very close.”

  “Have you ever heard the name Glen Burnie?” Jack asked.

  Again Meghan shook her head. “Is that the name of the guy she was all gaga about?”

  “That would be Sean,” Darby answered.

  Meghan’s face didn’t register recognition upon hearing the name. Darby and Jack left, completely convinced that Meghan didn’t know anything helpful.

  “I think it’s time to talk to her family,” Darby said. “I want to go to Charleston. There has to be a reason why he put that copy of the Charleston newspaper in with the divorce papers.”

  “I agree, but first we have to meet with the FBI.”

  Darby and Jack returned to the Martin County Sheriff’s office. Unlike her first visit, this time she wasn’t in handcuffs, which was good since there was a swarm of reporters around the entrance, shouting questions at her. Well, not exactly questions—more like accusations. Had she sold her baby? Was she in cahoots with her husband? Was the baby still alive?

  Jack sheltered her with one arm around her shoulders as they pushed through the gauntlet. Once inside, Darby let out a breath but it did little to tamp down the tension in her body.

  Detective Lange came out into the reception area and asked them to follow him. “This way, Mrs. Grisom, Jack.”

  “‘Jack’?” she whispered.

  “We’ve played basketball together a few times.”

  “I hope you let him win,” she said as she entered a conference room. It was a long, narrow space with a massive wood table in the center and enough chairs to accommodate twenty people.

  Standing on the opposite side of the table were two people. The woman was tall, almost gangly. She seemed uncomfortable in her blue blazer and blue button-down shirt. Her matching slacks brushed the tops of her lace-up flats. Her thin blond hair was pulled back, though a few wispy hairs fell loose around her long face. She reached out to offer Darby a handshake, and Darby noticed the woman’s hand was huge. There wasn’t much of anything particularly feminine about Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge Bennett. Which was fine. Darby wanted someone who could find her baby, not a buddy for a mani-pedi break.

  The gentleman with her, another Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge, was named Franklin. Darby guessed he was somewhere in his forties, worked out religiously, and had a no-nonsense attitude.

  They ran through the basics of the case. As Darby told it, she felt really stupid for thinking her plan would ever have worked. “I really thought Mia would be safe with Lyssa and I would be safe in jail. The whole idea of pretending to have postpartum depression and the issue of mental competence wasn’t my finest moment. And unfortunately Sean must have realized I would never hurt Mia.”

  “Do you think Sean knew about your plan ahead of time?”

  Darby nodded. “Maybe not all of it, but since he was taping everything in the house he must have been suspicious.”

  “And Lyssa Chandler has made no effort to contact you?” Agent Bennett asked.

  “None,” Darby said. “During his first call I heard a baby cry, so I think Sean got to Lyssa quickly.”

  “Any idea how?” Franklin asked.

  “He had one of my employees open the safe at my office. Lyssa’s file was inside. Even though I told Lyssa to go where no one would think to look for her, I’m thinking she went someplace familiar.”

  “Do you recall what was in the file?”

  “Just records for her cat, Mr. Wiggles.”

  “Your records?” he asked.

  Darby nodded. “And the records from her prior vet’s office.”

  “Do you recall where that was?”

  “No,” Darby admitted. “I don’t know where to start, so I’m going to go to Charleston. Roxanne’s mother lives there and the car Sean rented was found abandoned there, so that seems like the best place for me to start looking.”

  The agents and the detective exchanged glances. Then Bennett said, “The best course of action is for you to stay put and wait for Sean’s next call.”

  “You mean you think I should do nothing while he’s got my baby?” she scoffed. “No way.”

  “Look, Mrs. Grisom,” Bennett began in a reasonable tone. “I’ve handled many custodial kidnappings. Sean is most likely to turn violent if you confront him. It’s better if you remain at home, where we’ll have systems in place to try and track Sean’s location.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” Darby argued. “Sean doesn’t want the baby; he just wants to hurt me for trying to get away, and he wants my money.” It was frustratingly obvious that they didn’t appreciate the depth of Sean’s perversion.

  “You do understand that the FBI can’t help you with that aspect of the case. If there is a ransom demand, you’ll have to come up with the money yourself.”

  “Not a problem,” Darby insisted. “But I’m still going to Charleston.”

  “We’ll send an agent to interview Roxanne’s mother.”

  Darby shook her head. “Still going.”

  Bennett tented her fingertips on the tabletop. “Mrs. Grisom, we can’t keep you and your daughter safe if you go off conducting your own investigation.”

  “I’m not asking you to keep me safe,” Darby replied. “And you can’t keep Mia safe because you don’t have a clue where to find her. Hell, if Jack and I hadn’t gone in after the Martin County Crime Scene techs, we’d never have found Consuela’s ring in Roxanne’s car. So don’t tell me what to do.”

  “We’re here to help you,” Bennett stated firmly.

  “Then flag the passports,” Darby suggested. “Roxanne’s was missing from her important papers and Sean has his and Mia’s. Now that he’s a murder suspect he’ll want to get out of the country as soon as possible.”

  Bennett nodded. “I can do that. But please reconsider going to Charleston. If Sean is as desperate as you think he is, he’ll contact you sooner rather than later.”

  Darby looked to Jack. “Maybe let them talk to the Kolkinas first. If you aren’t satisfied, we can fly there in just under two hours,” he said.

  Reluctantly, Darby said, “Okay. Then she turned to the Deputy and asked, “May I have my things back? My passport, my computers, and my weapons?”

  “I can arrange for you to get your things if you can wait a few minutes.”

  It wasn’t a few minutes; it was more like an hour, but Darby finally left the Sheriff’s office with all the things they had confiscated after her erroneous confession. Again she was pepper
ed with questions and again Jack protected her from the strobe of flash bulbs and the bright glare of video cameras.

  It was nearly dark by the time they got back to the house. They found Declan in the kitchen and an FBI agent in the living room. Darby didn’t bother to remember his name; she just listened as he explained how he was going to tap the phone conversation if Sean called.

  “If?” she challenged.

  “When,” he corrected.

  Darby handed him the throwaway phone and went back into the kitchen to where Declan and Jack were seated at the table. They had their heads together and they were looking at the Declan’s laptop screen.

  “Find something?” she asked.

  “Maybe,” Declan said.

  Darby walked around so she could see the screen. It was a complete copy of the Charleston newspaper Sean had slipped to her in jail. “What are we looking at?” she asked.

  “The personals for that day.” Declan tilted the laptop so she could get a better view. “Anything seem familiar?”

  She read item after item. Most were tame but there were a few kinky ads. In the second column, about halfway down, she read:

  Darby—I miss you, Mr. Wiggles

  Her heart sank to her toes. “He knew practically from the beginning,” she muttered.

  They called the agent over and showed him the paper. He then made a phone call and in about ten minutes he found out the ad had been placed by S. Grisom the morning after her arrest.

  “Any idea how he was able to track down your friend so quickly?” the agent asked.

  “The cell phone and the vet records. Lyssa must have tried to make contact or Sean figured out where she’d gone from the paperwork. Damn it!”

  “Two agents went to the Kolkina house,” the agent reported. “The mother said her daughter was there two days ago with a strange man.”

  “Roxanne told her mother that they were on their way to pick up the boyfriend’s baby. That the mother was no longer in the picture.”

  “And the mother believed that?”

  “It was the agent’s impression that the mother was actually excited for her daughter after spending time with the man. She called him charming.”