“Detective Fox?”
Alex turned to greet the guard approaching her. “Yes, I’m Alexandra Fox.”
“Follow me, please.”
She entered the front gates with him and went through the same pat-down and scanning procedures she was sure every visitor endured. The guard placed her keys in a small box and took the file she was carrying. He read through the contents before handing the file back to Alex. “You’ll get your keys back when you leave.”
“Thank you.”
“Follow me.”
They traveled through a maze of corridors to a small room. “Have a seat and I’ll bring in Morgan.”
Alex wasn’t exactly sure what she’d expected, but Blake Morgan wasn’t it. He looked like a mature Count of Monte Cristo, with the body of a Greek god. Her quick scan ended with his eyes, which were Anthony Hopkins all the way and chilled her to the bone. She waited as the guard seated and chained him to the table. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, ma’am. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
As the door closed, the clang of metal on metal caused her to shiver. Fifteen minutes wasn’t much time. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Morgan. Sergeant Matt Adams sends his regards.”
“How is Matt?”
His voice created a different kind of chill inside Alex. His tone was soft and sensual, like the warm caress of lapping water.
“He doesn’t look well, and frankly, I’m worried about him.”
“The cancer must be spreading. I wondered why he stopped visiting,” Blake said.
Alex felt as if she’d been sucker punched in the stomach. “I didn’t know he had cancer.”
“Now you do.” The cool blue eyes seemed to look into her soul and, for some reason, found it lacking.
She cleared her throat. “I assume Matt called you to tell you why I’m here?”
“He did.”
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the file. “There isn’t a lot of information yet, and what we do have creates more questions. The Wilsons are very poor, and the Martins, although somewhat more affluent, couldn’t raise a decent ransom if they tried. I haven’t had an opportunity to interview the DuPonts yet.”
“Where are you from?”
Alex frowned. She didn’t want to talk about herself with this man, but Nobby had assured her he could help. “England.”
“England’s a big place. What did you do there?”
“I was a Sergeant with the Gloucester Constabulary,” Alex answered truthfully. Something in the cool assessment of his eyes gave her a gut feeling he would pounce on any lie immediately.
“Why are you here?”
“We only have fifteen minutes, Mr. Morgan. We have three missing babies and no clues. Matt told me you could help.”
“Why are you in America?”
The question caught her off-guard. She was a pretty good judge of character, and she’d suspected Nobby had called him ahead of time about her visit. He wouldn’t have told Blake Morgan about Scarlet. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, sir.” Alex stood and reached for the file. “If you’re not going to help, then I need to get out of here and use my time more wisely.”
Morgan placed his hand over the file. “Sit down, Alexandra.”
Alex returned to her seat and bit her lower lip to keep from coming back with a sharp retort. The sound of her name rolling off his tongue had created collywobbles in her stomach. She fidgeted as he slowly looked at each paper in the file and read her notes.
“I’ll need video of all the scenes and the parents, as well as a computer and access to your e-mail so I can follow your investigation. You need to type up your notes and start a database.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Morgan, you’re in Attica, which is a maximum-security prison. Access to a private computer is out of the question.”
The guard knocked on the door. “You got five minutes left.”
Morgan smiled at her. “Convince the warden it’s necessary.”
Frustrated and disappointed, Alex stood, retrieved the file, and headed for the door. “I’ll try.” She’d wasted an entire morning, and by the time she got back, the entire day would be wasted.
“Don’t look so downtrodden, Alexandra. Get me the video of the parents and the houses. Run their financials and do background checks. Every criminal leaves some kind of trail. It may take some time, but we’ll find them.”
The anger she’d been forcing down since her meeting with Patterson surfaced. “It’s Detective Fox, Mr. Morgan, and I don’t have time or any way to run financials and background checks. My commander suspended me, giving me a week to find these babies or look for another job. Matt seemed to believe you were some kind of miracle worker, but clearly he was mistaken.”
“Have you talked to the midwife?”
Alex stopped in midstride. “No one mentioned midwives.”
As Morgan turned in the seat, his chains clanged against the table. “The three hospitals where the babies were born all allow midwives. If you’ll look at the DuPont report, there’s an MW under Attending Physician. I would be willing to bet you a steak dinner that they had a midwife present to deliver the baby. The others could have also, and someone just forgot to note it.”
Excitement coursed through her blood, flushing her cheeks, but her tongue still had trouble forming the words. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. I’ll speak with the warden about your request for a computer, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”
He laughed, and the sound compelled her to meet his gaze. “I lost hope in other people a long time ago, Detective Fox. I have a feeling you aren’t going to disappoint me.”
~ ~ ~
Alex sat quietly as Warden Sams reviewed Morgan’s file. At least he hadn’t turned down her request immediately, or as she’d expected, laughed her out of his office, considering where they were.
“Morgan has been an exemplary inmate. If it wasn’t for the court order, he wouldn’t still be here.” He closed the file and gave her a sad smile. “Unfortunately, Detective, a private computer is out of the question.”
“We have three missing babies, sir, and the possibility more may go missing. What if it wasn’t totally private? You could keep it, review our e-mails and any searches Morgan might do. I could call you when I need to send him something. I know it’s more work for you, Warden, but he’s already helped, and the bloody man is quite brilliant. We only had fifteen minutes, and he picked up on something we had all missed. With his help, we have a better chance of saving these kids.”
Alex held her breath as Sams rubbed his jaw. At least he was considering the suggestion.
“I can’t make any promises, but leave me your phone number. I’ll have to run this through the Justice Department, but as time is of the essence, I’ll speak with the governor and let you know later tonight or in the morning.”
Alex stood and extended her hand. “Thank you, Warden Sams.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alex used the drive home to ponder some of the questions rolling around inside her head. Why had no one mentioned midwives? Surely someone would have asked the question, or one of the parents would have volunteered that information. Morgan could be wrong, of course. And then there was always the possibility Patterson had removed it from the file before giving it to her. I wouldn’t put it past the bloody bastard to hide anything he thought might help.
That brought up the more pressing question she’d been avoiding. Why had Patterson given her this case? And why did he really want to keep the FBI away? One missing baby was a crisis, but three was clearly a disaster for the NYPD if no clues developed quickly. And with the DuPont baby missing from their borough, Patterson should want all the help he could get. Of course he wanted her to fail. He was probably laughing his ass off, thinking about her muddling around with no information or the wrong information.
Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d had nothing to eat but a dry honey bun since morning, and she glanced at the console cl
ock. She was less than half an hour away from home, and she was pretty sure Nobby would be waiting with a hot meal and lots of questions.
Extreme sadness overwhelmed her, and tears wet her eyelashes. Why didn’t he tell me about the cancer? She wracked her brain to see if she could remember him in the hospital or taking treatments. As close as she could tell, he rarely left home. Was he treating it, and if not why? As hard as she’d tried not to get close to anyone, she realized she thought a great deal of the old man. He seemed invincible, and she couldn’t bear to think that he might be terminally ill. She was going to confront him as soon as the opportunity arose and make sure he got the medical treatment he needed.
~ ~ ~
“Strange nobody mentioned midwives,” Nobby said, placing a fresh cup of tea in front of Alex. “Seems like an important factor in the case.”
Alex sipped her tea. “Do you think Patterson removed the information, hoping I wouldn’t find it?”
Nobby shrugged. “Could be he didn’t know about it. Not the brightest star in the sky.”
“Bloody right about that,” Alex mumbled just as her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number. “It’s Warden Sams.” She hit the speaker button so Nobby could hear the conversation. “Hello.”
“Detective Fox?”
“Yes.”
“Warden Sams. I have some good news for you. I’ve made temporary arrangements for Mr. Morgan to have access to a computer for this case. Understand this may be revoked by the Justice Department, but for the time being, if you can provide me with your e-mail address, I’ll set it up for him.”
Alex reeled off her home e-mail, thanked the warden, and ended the call. Excitement bubbled in her voice as she met Nobby’s gaze across the table. “Smashing.”
“Thank the chief next time you see him.”
“The chief? What did he have to do with it?” Alex asked.
Nobby smiled and ducked his head. “Might have called the governor and put in a good word for you.”
“Cripes, Nobby, you could at least wait until I muck up before pulling your old nurse-maid routine.”
“Somebody has got to have your back. Besides, it wasn’t all about you. He’s drumming up support for this new unit.”
“Bollocks.”
Nobby changed the subject on her. “What else did Morgan say?”
“He said I needed to run financials and background checks on all of them. Not that I have any means of doing that. We only had fifteen minutes, so we didn’t really get to discuss very much.”
Nobby nodded solemnly. “Patterson did his best to make it hard on you, kid. I’ve been hankering for some action. Always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.”
Opportunity presented itself only occasionally, and Alex saw the door open to broach a subject she expected a lot of cussing and swearing about. “Morgan told me you have cancer.”
“Bastard didn’t have no right to tell you that.” Nobby stood and walked to the sink. “I got a few good months left in me.”
Alex had never been good at expressing her feelings or delving into others’ pain. Joining him at the sink, she stared out the window, her shoulder barely touching his. “Aside from Chief Brown, you’re my only friend here. I shared my deepest, darkest secrets with you, Nobby. You’re not being fair to me.”
“Colon cancer. Removed the right colon two years ago. Said they got it all, but it could come back. It did.”
Alex turned toward him. “Colon cancer is treatable. Why aren’t you taking treatments? They could help you.”
Nobby scoffed. “You ever seen what that shit does to somebody? I’m almost seventy years old, Alex. I’d rather be dead than go through that.”
“How long?” Alex asked.
Nobby shrugged. “Depends on who you listen to. Doctors say it could be anytime, or I could live for years. Ain’t up to them no way. It’s up to me and the good Lord.”
Alex turned away and started clearing the table. “Well, now it’s up to you, me, and the good Lord. I’m going to start researching and find a way to cure you.”
Nobby didn’t say anything, but Alex heard him clear his throat a couple of times as she rinsed the plates and placed them in the dishwasher. “I’d best be getting home and building that database Morgan wanted, or else he might just decide not to help me after all. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to find out why no one mentioned any midwives.”
“Forgot to tell you, I rescheduled your meeting with DuPont for ten in the morning. Pick me up at nine.”
CHAPTER NINE
Blake turned onto his back, placed his hands beneath his head, and stared at the ceiling. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, unable to get the case off his mind, nor had he been able to forget the soft brown eyes of Alexandra Fox. Those eyes could caress, or shoot fire, depending on her state of mind. Even with her blonde hair pulled back severely from her face and no makeup, she was striking. She didn’t realize it, though, and he could tell she didn’t care. She wasn’t looking for compliments from a man, at least not from a man with romantic interests. The shadows in her eyes told him she was looking for a specific man who had hurt her deeply and left scars that had yet to heal. He’d seen that look before—in his own eyes after Nancy was killed. That severing of the soul created a hunger and thirst that only one thing could cure—the pain and anguish of the person responsible. She might be looking for the missing babies, but that wasn’t the reason she’d come to America, and it wasn’t the real reason she’d come to him.
He rose and started to pace, counting his steps in the small cell. It took two thousand steps to walk a mile, and he did five miles a day religiously. Add to that a hundred push-ups and two hundred jumping jacks, and he was in better physical condition than when he’d first been sentenced. What he needed was mental stimulation. If the warden approved his working on this case, he might be able to petition to help with others. He was hampered somewhat by the fact that he couldn’t see the crime scenes, but with today’s video technology, that shouldn’t pose much of a problem.
He continued pacing, losing count as his thoughts returned to Alexandra Fox. Killing the person who was responsible for her pain wouldn’t really take it away. It would simply leave her guilty of crossing the lines she’d taken an oath not to cross. He hadn’t taken that oath, but the judge had held him responsible for it. At the time, it hadn’t mattered, and he was paying for his crimes. For Alexandra, it would be different. Blake had seen the fire in her eyes when she’d mentioned her commander suspending her. She was passionate about her work, and losing that would destroy her. He would have to be careful with her if she asked questions about anything besides this case, until he could talk to Matt. Once he found out who or what she was looking for, he would find a way to handle it himself. She would hate him for it, but in the end, she would live. A little more blood on his hands wasn’t going to kill him.
Blake was so lost in thought, he missed the guard’s approach and jerked around when the man barked his name.
“Morgan! Warden wants to see you.”
Stepping back from the bars, he faced the wall and assumed the position for the guard to place the mandatory leg irons, turned on command, and allowed the guard to cuff his hands in front of him and attach it all to the chain around his waist. Even non-violent prisoners were given the same treatment, and Blake had long ago stopped resenting it. Most of the guards were pretty decent guys up against a tough job.
“Let’s go.”
He’d learned early to shuffle his feet instead of trying to walk, and he followed the guard through the corridors to the warden’s office. He kept his head down, aware of the gun only inches from his back. Guards always came in twos, and sometimes threes, depending on the inmate and the severity of his crime.
The first guard knocked on the warden’s door and waited for the command to enter. “Inmate Morgan, sir.”
“Bring him in.”
Head bowed, Blake shuffled inside the room and stopped several feet from the huge
cherry desk.
“Gentlemen, leave us for a minute, please.”
“We’ll be right outside, sir.”
The warden cleared his throat. “You can raise your head, Morgan. Humility doesn’t really suit you.”
Blake lifted his head and smiled. “But it keeps me from getting beaten, sir.”
The warden laughed. “Good point. You’ve been a model inmate. I respect that, and frankly, I appreciate it. The question is, if I have those cuffs removed, can I trust you?”
“I don’t have anything against you, Warden Sams.”
Sams nodded. “That’s good enough for me.” He left his chair, opened the door, and spoke to the guards, who argued with him only momentarily before entering the room and removing the handcuffs.
“Have a seat, Morgan,” Sams said before taking his place behind the desk. “I’ve approved Detective Fox’s request for your help on this case. She will send you e-mails, and you will answer them. All of this will take place in my office, under my supervision. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any shenanigans, and I’ll terminate this project immediately. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sams opened a laptop and pushed it across the table. “You got your first e-mail this morning.”
Blake clicked on the page and scanned the databases Alexandra had created, one for each child. Laid out side by side, the differences, as well as the similarities, were notable.
Sams drummed his fingers on the table as Blake read. “This is quite boring for me. I heard you were brilliant, so humor me with your thoughts as you’re reading.”
“All three are girls, all Caucasian, and all have blue eyes. If they were in fact kidnapped, the thieves were looking for a specific type of child.”
Tragic Deception (Deception Series Book 1) Page 4