Skin Puppet: Reightman & Bailey Book Three

by Jeffery Craig

  She smiled at his admission. “Hearing you admit you don’t have a lot of experience actually gives me more confidence, and tells me something about the kind of person you are, Mr. Bailey. Most people would have tried to cover up their inexperience.”

  “Please, call me Toby.”

  “Okay. In that case, I’m Janine. I hear ‘Ms. Laramie’ from the children all day, so it’s nice to have someone use my first name.”

  “It’s a deal,” he said, opening his notebook. “The first thing I’d like to do is to get a feel for Lucy. What can you tell me about her?”

  Janine took a minute to gather her thoughts before speaking. “Well, to start with, she’s a good student. She always seemed to enjoy school. She’s a sweet girl, and very responsible for her age. Almost serious. Don’t get me wrong, she appeared happy, but wasn’t as carefree as some of the other girls.”

  “Are you familiar with her family situation?”

  “Somewhat. I’ve meet her mother, of course, and I understand the family has a rough time making ends meet now and then. That sort of thing seems to be more common these days, even though one hears how the economy is improving. I guess the Escabar’s financial situation helps account for Lucy’s demeanor.”

  “Did Lucy get along with the other children?”

  “Yes, certainly. I’ve never noticed any issues anyway, and I have a pretty good radar for that sort of thing.”

  “Any special friends?”

  “One or two, I suppose. Lately, there’s a new girl she seemed close to, although it surprised me when they starting spending time together.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, they’re so very different. You see, Jessica’s the total opposite of Lucy. She’s perfectly nice and well-behaved, but she comes across as somewhat spoiled. Always wearing new clothes, and having the best school supplies. That sort of thing. To her credit, she’s not a snob or stuck-up, but it’s evident her background is much more privileged than some of the other children’s. When she transferred in several weeks ago, they hit it off, though. It just goes to show, opposites do attract.”

  “Do you know why she transferred? Did her family recently move to the area?”

  “No, nothing like that. Her father apparently felt we offered a more challenging curriculum. We do a pretty good job here, even if I do say so myself.”

  “Do you know if Lucy and Jessica spent any time together outside of school?”

  “That’s an interesting question. Now that you mention it, I did see them walking together after school once in a while. I hadn’t really thought about it until you asked.”

  Toby wrote down a few notes, trying to think of what to ask next. When he looked back up, Janine Laramie was worrying at her bottom lip.

  “Is something wrong, Janine?”

  She shook her head slightly. “Not so much wrong, as strange. Jessica hasn’t been in school for the last few days.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Very. She hardly ever misses a day. Like Lucy, she’s a bright child and enjoys school.”

  “It’s probably nothing to worry about. Maybe she’s out with the flu or something.”

  “Perhaps. Still, I think I should check with the office and see if Mr. Fields called in. All of the attendance records are centralized these days and when a parent calls in to notify us a child will be out, a note is made by the school secretary. Sometimes, the information doesn’t immediately make it to the teacher. I’m all for centralization, but it can be frustrating.”

  “Like I said, she probably has the flu or a cold. You mentioned her father’s last name is Fields?”

  “Yes, that’s right, same as Jessica’s. Although, I guess that’s not always the case these days.”

  Toby didn’t want to push too hard for more information, since schools were usually reluctant to share personal details. He looked at his notes, buying a few seconds of time while he tried to think how Melba would handle it, or better yet, Madame Zhou. They could both be sneaky.

  “That name sounds familiar. Her father wouldn’t be James Fields would he? I think I might know him. Doesn’t he work for the city?”

  His tactic worked like a charm. “No, that must be another Fields. Jessica’s father is Nathan Fields. He’s the manager for a local transport firm, the one that runs those ads during the evening news. I think he has a rather hectic job, and occasionally has to travel on business. He always lets us know when he’s going to be out, so we’re aware we should contact the young woman who takes care of Jessica if something unexpected occurs. I can’t remember her name, although I recall it’s spelled in an odd way.” She glanced at her watch, and frowned.

  “Are you pressed for time?”

  “I do have another appointment in a few minutes. I could call and tell them I’ll be late if I need to.”

  “No, I think we’re pretty much finished, and I don’t want to keep you. Can I call if I think of anything I forgot to ask?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Okay.” He closed his notebook and stood. “Then, I’ll let you get to your other appointment. I have a friend who is a stickler about punctuality.” He grinned and held out his hand. “Thanks again, Janine. Call me if you think of anything else.”

  “I will, Toby,” she assured him, clasping his hand briefly. “Don’t forget to turn in your badge on the way out. They like to keep track of them. Good luck. I hope Lucy is home again soon, safe and sound.”

  “We all do.”

  ***

  Jocasta Anthony snipped the last thread, then folded the simple garment and laid it on top of the small stack she’d already finished. She counted the items, and looked at the remaining fabric on the last bolt, wondering if she’d made enough. Deciding she’d done her fair share, she turned off the sewing light and closed the door to the sewing room behind her.

  As she walked down the hall to her large, well-appointed kitchen to fix a late lunch, she couldn’t help thinking back to the previous evening. She’d told Vassily it was a mistake to go, but her brother had refused to heed her warning. The minute Jake had burst into the living room raging with resentment because Jill had received an invitation when he hadn’t, the die had been cast. Vassily had listened with interest, although it was obvious he couldn’t care less that Jake was upset. The fact his nephew had been drinking and availing himself of other substances hadn’t helped.

  Vassily just didn’t understand the turmoil Jake was going through. A career ruined at its height because of gossip and malicious rumor was a hard blow for both Jake and Jocasta. She loved the attention she received as the adored mother of a celebrity and had basked in the reflected glory of her son. It appeared those times were over, at least for now.

  She opened the refrigerator and considered her choices. Something light and low calorie would be best. Last night, her dress had been uncomfortably snug. After seeing the gorgeous red number the Reightman woman had been wearing, she’d felt frumpy and fat. Jocasta opened the crisper drawer and reached for a head of lettuce, but changed her mind. Counting calories just wasn’t appealing, and her mind needed fuel to work through the current challenges. She grabbed the bottle of Russian dressing, a package of deli-sliced corned beef, a couple of slices of cheese, and the small jar of sauerkraut. After a slight hesitation fueled by her lack of willpower regarding food, she decided a little butter couldn’t hurt.

  She sliced off several daubs of butter and dropped them into a skillet and turned on the burner. While it was melting, she assembled her sandwich, using a few slices of the heavy rye bread she’d picked up from the local bakery. It wasn’t as good as the bread she remembered from her childhood, but it was the best that could be found in the area.

  Soon, the sandwich was sizzling in the skillet, perfuming the air with comforting scents. She hovered near the skillet, wanting the bread to be perfectly golden before she flipped it to finish the other side.

  Yes, attending the party had been a mistake. Jake’s behavior had skirted the ve
ry edge of acceptable, and Vassily had allowed that old woman to provoke him. That could lead to problems, and they didn’t need that when things were at this precarious juncture. There was a lot at stake right now.

  There was history between Zhou Li and her brother—history which reached back to Vassily’s early days in American, and involved not only the woman, but also her father. Jocasta didn’t know the details. She preferred to keep her distance from Vassily’s business problems, unless specifically asked to involve herself. When he asked, she helped. After all, he’d gotten her out of Russia, back when things had not been so good. He was generous in his support as well, although that was only her due.

  She expertly flipped the sandwich, enjoying the sound of the butter bubbling and hissing in the skillet. The bonds between brother and sister were strong, but had been strained these last few years. If only he’d provide more encouragement to her son. Why couldn’t he see how special and superior Jake was? Vassily had never cared for Jake, nor had he cared for Jake’s father. When he’d gotten too close to some of the family secrets and tried to make trouble, her husband had met his death in an unfortunate accident. It was a shame about the others killed in the three-car collision, but the situation had been handled cleverly.

  Once the finished sandwich was out of the skillet and placed on a folded paper towel to drain, she turned off the burner. When it cooled enough to handle, she transferred it to the cutting board and cut it diagonally and placed it on a plate. The preparation of a small vodka and tonic completed her menu, so she carried her bounty to the nearby desk and took a seat.

  Savoring the warm, gooey combination of flavors before placing the sandwich back on the plate, she powered up her laptop, determined to discipline herself to make the meal last. She wouldn’t be greedy and consume it like a hungry wolf.

  Once signed on to the computer, she checked various websites for any mention of her son, hoping to find some favorable press to brighten Jake’s day. Disappointed to find nothing, she took another bite, chewing as she thought some more about the current problem. She’d already asked Vassily to find some way to help Jake get back on track, but her brother had refused. Once asked and answered, there wasn’t much hope of changing his mind. Besides, his attention was totally focused on his current projects. Those stood to enrich the coffers and so had priority, as was appropriate. There would be no help for Jake from that quarter. Now, if Jill were to ask…but no. Since the little mishap, the relationship between Jill and Jake allowed for no favors between them.

  Most certainly, Jill was the problem. Jocasta had never cared for her, even as baby. She’d taken her in when Vassily asked, and had raised her as her own. As far as the world knew, Jill was her daughter. Anyone who looked closely might notice a slight resemblance between Jill and Vassily, but that was easily explained given the purported relationship of uncle and niece. In those early years, it would have been inconvenient and dangerous for it to be known Vassily had a daughter. She disliked Jill, but had done her best. Vassily was in her debt.

  Jill owed her too, for handling the nasty mess she’d gotten herself into. She’d tried to blame it all on Jake, but Jocasta had long since determined the girl was the one at fault. She should have known better than to flaunt her skinny body. It was most likely some warped play to gain her brother’s attention. As for her rape accusation, it was pure fabrication. Jocasta was suddenly ravenous, and fiercely turned her attention to her lunch.

  After finishing off most of the sandwich, she licked her fingers and typed in an IP address. After the correct log-on screen appeared, Jocasta quickly entered the string of numbers she’d memorized many years ago. She checked the account balances and made a few adjustments until she was satisfied with the dispersal and availability of her assets. The hard and frightening years of her past had taught her that when mistakes were made—no matter how small and seemingly insignificant—it was best to be prepared. It was comforting to know that if the worst happened, there was a way out. Her personal wealth was nothing compared to her brother’s, but was more than enough to provide for her and her son in some nice country lacking extradition agreements with the United States.

  Jocasta logged off and finished her lunch. She carried her plate to the sink and added a few cubes of ice to her drink. South America presented a couple of nice options to consider.

  ***

  Allen Edmondson rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair after Mitchell and Thorton vacated the conference room at police headquarters.

  “That bad?” Garfield crumpled her empty candy bar wrapper and tossed it in his general direction. It hit the edge of the table and slid to the floor.

  “We’re not making progress. We need something to break.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “We do. But these kinds of cases always take time, and sometimes the pieces never come together.”

  “We’ve solved our fair share.”

  “More than our fair share. But we don’t always get the ones at the top. Oh, we round up plenty of foot soldiers and shut down the operation, at least for a while. But often, our real target gets way and starts over. We don’t have near enough hands and feet, and a lot of people refuse to admit we’re dealing with a very real problem.”

  “Those people are wrong.”

  “Yes. They are. We both know it, and we’ve both worked our asses off to do what we can. This isn’t the worst we’ve seen, Edmondson. It’s just the one giving us one hell of a headache right now.”

  He sighed and stretched, and then stood up and went to the coffee pot in the corner of the room. “What some?” he offered, raising the pot her direction.

  “Sure. Might as well. I need something to wash down the chocolate.”

  “The way you eat candy, I’m surprised you don’t have a blood sugar problem.” He handed her a cup and a handful of sugar packets, and poured a cup of his own.

  “Must be genetic. Plus, all the candy keeps me sweet.”

  He took his seat and pulled out his phone. After checking for messages, he reviewed his running list of notes. “Did you touch base with the team back in Atlanta?”

  “Yes.” She ripped open a few packets and stirred the white grains into her coffee with the eraser end of a pencil. She licked the end to test the mixture, then added the contents of another packet. “We should have something back from them tomorrow afternoon. Why are you so interested in him anyway? Seems kind of far afield from our current line of investigation.”

  “It probably is, but I don’t like what happened at the party. I guess I just want to know why Vassily Grokov decided to provoke Madame Zhou. It’s pretty obvious it’s something personal and nasty. The information Reightman shared also caught my interest.”

  “You sure it’s just the information she shared that you find intriguing?”

  “No comment.”

  “That’s what I thought. I have to admit, she looked pretty nice in that red dress. And for me to admit it means she looked really good. If that was what got my engine reeving, I’d be all over it, once the case was done and all. Do I need to remind you not to mix business with pleasure?”

  “No. Even if I was interested—which I’m not saying I am—she hasn’t given me any indication that she would be.”

  “Okay…if you say so.”

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  “No reason, other than sometimes, a woman picks up on when another woman is interested in a man. It’s a female thing, like sonar or something.”

  He grunted and sipped his coffee, mulling over another one of life’s mysteries.

  “You got any dinner plans?” she asked after a few minutes.

  “No. You?”

  “Uh uh. What to see if we can find something?”

  “Sure. When?”

  “Now. You know I like to eat early.”

  “You know, everyone thinks I made up all the stuff about your love of candy and your need to eat on a schedule.”

  “I know. They probably think you’re
delusional.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Probably. What sounds good for dinner?”

  “Oh, I don’t care. You know I’m not picky.”

  That earned an eye roll. “Thai?”

  “No, that doesn’t sound good.”

  “Barbeque?”

  “Nope.”

  “Mexican?”

  She turned up her nose.

  “I thought you didn’t care.”

  “I don’t. Just not any of those.”

  “You can be a real pain.”

  She grinned. “Yes, I can,” she agreed. “Come on, get your butt out of that chair. I’ll drive.”

  He wisely decided not to argue.

  ***

  Melba looked up as Toby came through the door of the office, notebook in hand. “Did you find out anything new?”

  “Maybe a little,” Toby answered as he dropped his keys into a desk drawer and situated himself in his chair. “I think I did okay with the interview. She was happy to answer everything I asked about. I don’t know if anything I learned fits with the rest of the puzzle, though. I need to do a little research first. How were things at the hospital?”

  “All right, I guess. Jon was appreciative of the clothes.”

  “Did he eat anything?”

  “Yes, I made sure he had a break and got some food—just like I promised. Satisfied?”

  “Yeah. I’m just worried about him. When are they releasing Madame Zhou?”

  “Sometime tomorrow afternoon. Jon said he’d call and we could meet him over at Green Dragon when they got there. He might need some help getting Zhou situated.”

  “Okay,” he answered as he typed a few phrases in the search bar of his computer screen. When the results populated, he scrolled down the page. “Wow, there’s more than I thought there’d be.”

  “More what?”

  “Local transportation companies. This is going to take forever.”

  “What are you looking for?”