At least he’d had the presence of mind to stash his new cell phone under the window blinds in the lobby earlier when they’d arrived, pretending to stumble into the wall. In the unmarked squad car, he’d seen Detective Crumb looking at it with interest and had realized the numbers in the memory
or on the phone records would lead directly to the rental house. But those numbers were safe now, and with any luck, he and Madeline would be in Las Vegas before the phone was discovered.
If they let him make a phone call, maybe he could call Carla to make sure all was well. He would offer her triple the normal wage to stay until he was free. Yet what if he and his mother were arrested and held for days? And could he trust that his call wouldn’t be traced? What would Carla do with Madeline if she didn’t hear from him?
The agony of worry ate at him, crumbling his confidence. All he wanted was to protect his daughter, but speaking up or staying quiet both seemed to have serious consequences. Except, of course, that Dakota and drugs were assured, while Carla was an unknown.
Better to go with the unknown. He’d have to trust Carla for a little longer, regardless of how it ripped him apart. He’d never, ever forgive himself if any harm came to Madeline.
A new worry was beginning to edge into his mind. If they allowed his mother to go free tonight, they would likely follow her to the rental house in a way she couldn’t detect. After all, they were trained at what they did and would be expecting her to try to get around them now. The last thing he wanted was to see his mother in jail. He had to prevent that along with everything else. He had to get them to let him see her.
Weight pushed down on his shoulders, threatening to crush out all hope. He was so exhausted that his brain no longer seemed to be functioning. But the clock was ever ticking. His only hope was to somehow get free so he could take Madeline away from Utah and the threat Dakota represented.
He laid his head down on the table, trying to clear it of a sudden dizziness. If they were keeping him overnight, as it appeared they would, where would he stay? In here? Or did they have a jail cell with a bed?
Some time later the door opened, and he tried to blink away the exhaustion. How long had she left him here? At least an hour, though he could be wrong. “Where’s my lawyer?” he demanded. “And are you going to give me a bed, or is this part of the torture routine?”
The detective didn’t smile. “We traced your phone records, and we found the man you rented a house from in Manti. Care to tell me why you rented a house there?”
Parker swallowed, his throat dry as though he’d been drinking sand. “A lot of people move,” he said carefully.
Crumb folded her long arms across her chest. “The game is up, Parker. We found the house and your daughter’s clothes. She’s been there very recently.”
“But she’s not there now.” He wondered if his statement betrayed the shock he felt.
“No,” Crumb said. “She’s not. The house is empty.”
Chapter 8
Early Monday morning Caitlin McLoughlin sat at her desk, wishing she could have stayed home. Another plea deal and two more clients she would have to visit in jail. All of them guilty—that was obvious from the documentation. A robbery and an assault. Beautiful. More briefs to prepare and lies to hear.
When her phone rang, she grabbed it almost eagerly, though there was a high probability the call would mean more work. “Hello?”
“Hi, Caitlin.”
“Sally?” Caitlin smiled. It was really too soon to discuss their weekly lunch date, their schedules being so unpredictable, but she was happy to hear from Sally anytime. “What’s up? Nothing bad, I hope.”
“No, everything’s fine. Well, I was up half the night and not for one of Tony’s back rubs.”
“You find the girl?”
“Not yet.” Frustration laced Sally’s voice. “But I think I know who took her. Only things have gone wrong, and I don’t know how to fix them. The guy won’t trust me, and I really don’t blame him.”
“Who?”
“The father.”
“Ah. Do you think he’s hurt her?”
“Absolutely not. This guy loves his kid, and I think he took her to protect her from the mother. We found someone who identified him as being near the girl’s home the night she went missing, so we brought him in. And also his mother. Neither would tell us anything useful. With a little research, though, we discovered he’d rented a house on the edge of town, and there were little girl’s clothes there, and the local officers we sent out could have sworn the bed was still warm.”
“She left right before you got there?”
“I think so. I mean, I could be wrong. Maybe she wasn’t there at all, but it adds up because when the father had visiting rights, he always brought the daughter to the grandmother’s. The rental house had to be where he was hiding her.”
“Did someone warn them?”
“No. Hathaway didn’t call anyone. Neither did the grandmother.” Sally paused while Caitlin took the information in.
“So that means—what?”
“Either the little girl got up and wandered out into the night alone, or there’s an accomplice who got scared and fled with the child. Either way, she’s in danger. Hathaway is pacing in the holding cell as we speak. He hasn’t slept much, and anyone can see he’s worried.”
“But he won’t talk.”
“No. I’m tempted to let him loose and follow him to find out what he knows, but the higher-ups won’t let me. There’s too much evidence against him. And part of me agrees because he’s smart. He might shake the tail and flee with the girl. So, that’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“He wants to see a lawyer.”
“Ah.” Now Caitlin understood.
“He’d probably be happy with any public defender,” Sally said, “but despite everything, I really think this guy loves his daughter, and I don’t want to see him in the hands of just anyone.”
“But, Sally, if what you say is true, he kidnapped his own daughter out of her bed in the middle of the night.”
“I know how it sounds, but I’ve met the mother, and of the two of them, I’d choose him.”
“The law won’t.”
“I know.” Sally sighed. “Look, will you come talk to him?”
“When?”
“As soon as possible. We need to find the child. Every minute that passes means more danger. We have no idea who the accomplice is, or if there even is one.”
Caitlin looked at the files on her desk. She could get Jodi or one of the other paralegals to fill in for her for a few hours. It wasn’t like she had court proceedings this morning. “Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
Caitlin laughed. “No, this counts as two.”
“I’ll watch Amy for you while you go out with the hot DA. Hmm, wonder if he’s any good at back rubs.”
“If only I could be so lucky.” Not that she would find out any time soon. She and Mace weren’t anywhere near that level of intimacy. Besides, Caitlin wasn’t into casual relationships. She wanted something permanent, something real. Something like Sally and Tony had. Disconnecting the line with a little sigh, she began dialing Jodi’s extension.
• • •
Things had gone from bad to worse. Parker had spent the night pacing the small holding cell where they had kept him in isolation. He’d learned that his mother had been released, but he hadn’t seen her, and she didn’t know anything about Carla.
Where had Carla taken Madeline? In the best case scenario, he told himself that when he hadn’t returned, she’d taken Madeline home to her own house because she’d had to watch her siblings or nephews. Madeline was safe and happy, sleeping like an angel, and would awake and begin playing with the other children. Other visions were not so nice—Carla kidnapping Madeline, selling her into slavery or something equally heinous.
He’d have to tell them everything he knew. Soon. There was simply no other
option. Even if Carla planned to bring Madeline back, she’d only find the police there waiting for her. And if the worst became a reality, he had already given Carla a big head start.
There was a sound at the door, and a stocky officer he didn’t recognize entered the room. They’d already come once to give him a breakfast he hadn’t been able to eat, so this time surely there was news. Maybe they were letting him out.
“You have a visitor,” the man said far too cheerfully for Parker’s mood. “An LDA.”
“A what?”
“Someone from the Legal Defenders Association—a public defender.”
“Oh.” Parker felt a little surge of hope.
“You want to clean up a little first?”
Parker was wearing the same jeans and T-shirt he’d been wearing when he’d been picked up. They had let him keep his coat, too, but his hair was uncombed, and he still hadn’t found time to shave. But what he looked like didn’t matter. Time was all important. “No. I’m fine,” he said. “Take me to him.”
“Her,” the officer corrected. “And I must say, you’re pretty lucky. Detective Crumb must have pulled a few strings to get her. They say she’s the best.”
Parker didn’t hold out much hope of that. From what he’d heard in the circles he’d traveled with Dakota, public defenders were overworked and underpaid. The more experienced defenders often didn’t even meet their clients until the day of the trial, sending aides to do all the footwork. So it was likely that Crumb had found the newest attorney on the list and sent her to him—provided she even was a real attorney.
The woman had her back to him as the officer led him into a new room he hadn’t been in before, her eyes focused on the tiny, bar-covered window on the far wall several yards away. She wore a maroon suit on a figure that was a little on the full side, with curves in all the right places, though the suit seemed to do its best to hide that fact. Her bright, copper-colored hair was drawn severely into a knot at the nape of her neck, and when she faced him, the solemness of her pale features was broken only by the myriad of copper freckles scattered over her face. She was younger than he expected and beautiful in a slightly exotic way, though he couldn’t figure out how red hair and freckles could possibly be exotic. In another setting—no, in another lifetime—he might have asked her out.
“Hello, Mr. Hathaway,” she said, coming toward him, her hand outstretched. “I’m Caitlin McLoughlin, and I’ve been assigned to your case.” She spoke perfect English, yet there was almost an Irish lilt to the tone. Like music. Her eyes were a startling blue, and her lips full and kissable despite the withdrawn formality of her expression and demeanor.
Parker suddenly felt worn and dirty. He wished he’d had time to shower and shave, though none of that was really important now. What he had to do was to concentrate on Madeline, and this woman might be the means of getting him out of here.
Her hand was small but firm in his grasp. “I’ve been briefed, Mr. Hathaway, but I’ll need more information.” She glanced at the officer who’d brought Parker. “Thank you. We’ll be all right.” He nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
“I need to get out of here as soon as possible,” Parker told her forcefully.
“Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.” She sat on one of the chairs at the table and indicated that he should do the same. “At least not today. Given the circumstances, I anticipate that you will be arrested before the end of the day. I will be able to have you arraigned tomorrow, but depending on the evidence the prosecution has, we may or may not get you out on bail.” She sat back in her chair, watching him.
“Then why are you even here?” he growled, remaining on his feet. “I need to get out now.”
“Why?” She asked it simply, as though she had no idea what was at stake. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe they hadn’t told her the details.
“My daughter is missing. You know that much.”
She lifted her chin slightly. “Yes, but only since last night, I believe.”
So she knew more than she’d let on, and that meant the police knew more as well. “They’re never going to let me out, are they?”
“Not until you tell them what you know.”
“No.” He looked around the room, wondering if even now they were listening. “You don’t understand.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“Because I’d be playing into their hands.”
“Anything you say to me here stays here. I’m your counsel.”
“They aren’t listening?”
For the first time a smile curved those full lips. “Not a chance. That would be against the law.”
He relaxed slightly. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“Begin with what happened.”
“My ex-wife is doing drugs. I lived with Dakota for too long not to know that my daughter is in danger every second she’s in her care. But I can’t get anyone to listen to me.”
“She doesn’t have a record, but I do see some DUIs on yours.”
“That was years ago.”
“Are you still drinking?”
“I’m not an alcoholic, I’m a drunk. Alcoholics go to meetings.” He’d seen that on a T-shirt once, and it would surely put her in her place.
She tilted her head. “Mr. Hathaway, this is no time to joke. You’re the one who asked for legal counsel. Now either you start talking to me—with respect—or I’m leaving, and you can deal with another legal defender.”
Shame washed through Parker. Swallowing with difficulty, he lowered himself onto the chair opposite her. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Now do you want my help, or do you want someone else?”
“Are you good?”
A twitch on one side of her mouth seemed to hint at a smile. “I’m the best at what I do.” She hesitated before adding, “But while we’re speaking candidly, I can also tell you that I dislike defending guilty men.”
“Then why are you a public defender?”
A line appeared on her brow. “I assure you, I ask myself that question a hundred times a week, and the only answer I have besides the fact that it pays the bills is that every now and then, I actually help someone who’s innocent.”
There was passion in the words. This was a woman who believed in ideals and in defending the defenseless. Maybe she could understand about Dakota and Madeline. She seemed to be his best hope.
“Haven’t you ever done anything you might have otherwise considered wrong to protect someone you care about?” he asked quietly.
She started shaking her head and then stopped, as though remembering something. “The end doesn’t justify the means. Or so my father used to say.”
Parker lifted a brow. “I believe that, or I used to. But drugs don’t play fair, and my daughter’s life is more important to me than my own.” This woman couldn’t possibly know how much it had cost him to go against the law, how every minute he’d been wracked with guilt, but he wouldn’t be the one to enlighten her.
“You took her that night.”
He nodded. “I thought I could keep her in Manti until the police found evidence against Dakota, but I realized on Saturday that it wouldn’t work. Today we were going to disappear.”
“Why didn’t you run right from the beginning?”
“I should have. But I was working, and I wanted to be able to support my daughter.”
“Who was helping you?”
“I acted alone.”
“You left your four-year-old daughter all day in a house by herself?” There was a sharpness now to her tone, a subtle anger.
“I got a sitter. A Hispanic woman. Very smart, nice. I knew she had relatives who are in the country illegally, and she wouldn’t want to contact the police even if she suspected Madeline was kidnapped.”
“This woman was at the house last night with Madeline?”
“Yes.” Then he rushed on with everything he’d been thinking. “But the police can’t prove Madeline was there
. She could have been there weeks ago.”
“You’ve only had the house since last week.”
“I could have only been preparing for her to go there.”
“They found her fingerprints. Mr. Hathaway, I know you want to get out and see if you can find your daughter, but they’re not going to let you, and I can’t make them.”
“What if I tell you where she is? Could you go get her?”
The attorney shook her head. “There are rules about endangering children, and I won’t cross that line. Besides, they’d have me followed. But if you do cooperate with the police, things will go a lot more smoothly for you, and we’ll have a much better case. That means you’ll be around to see your daughter grow up.”
He sighed and stared at the table. “I’m terrified that Carla has done something terrible, but if she hasn’t, I don’t want her mixed up in this.”
“What if I can promise that?” Her hands were folded on the table, and he noticed she wore a ruby ring on her right hand but nothing on the left.
He lifted his gaze and saw those blue eyes locked onto his, almost like a touch. She was compelling, he’d give her that. No wonder she was supposedly so good at what she did. “Can you promise to save Madeline from her mother?”
“Not in so many words, but I know Detective Crumb personally, and I can tell you she’ll do everything in her power and then some to get to the bottom of this. For some crazy, odd reason, she seems to be on your side.”
This surprised him. “I thought she hated me.”
“She just wants Madeline safe.”
“So do I.”
He agonized over the decision, while at the same time recognizing there was really no choice. “Okay. But I want assurances that Carla, if she didn’t do anything, will be left out of this. And my mother.”
“Was your mother involved?”
Saving Madeline Page 9