“Excuse me, Ms. Rice, I’m Molly Ryan, I’d like to talk to you about a former employee, Ellie Tucker; do you have a minute?”
Drat, they must know who Joseph is. The idiot had his identification on him. What a dummy. “Molly Ryan, don’t you run that little flower shop on the first floor?”
“I own the shop but I’m here for a different reason. A man was shot and killed across the street this morning. The coroner has identified him as Joseph Tucker. They have reason to believe his mother was Eleanor Tucker who worked under your supervision close to thirty years ago. Does the name Eleanor or Ellie Tucker sound familiar to you?”
“Ms. Ryan, I have a good memory, but you can’t expect me to remember some little typist who worked here that long ago.”
Brooke is right about Ms. Rice, she is a very unpleasant woman, Molly thought while noticing her desk was cleared and there were two large tote bags filled with items including a nameplate reading Katherine Rice.
“Are you certain you don’t remember Ellie Tucker, Ms. Rice? It’s very important.”
“If it’s so important, why are you here? Why isn’t a police officer here to question me?”
“If you’d rather speak with a police officer, I can call Detective Wentworth, I’m sure he will be glad to talk to you.”
Molly noticed Katherine Rice kept glancing at the clock on the wall.
“That won’t be necessary, Missy. I have a lunch appointment and must be leaving, I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Would you like me to carry one of your tote bags, Ms. Rice. It appears you have cleaned out your desk; have you terminated your employment with Kincaid Enterprises?”
“That is none of your business. Please leave now.”
“I’ll leave, Ms. Rice, after you tell me all you remember about a girl named Ellie Tucker,” Molly said sounding braver than she felt.
“I told you, I don’t remember anyone by that name.”
“Do you remember visiting your cousin in Charleston, North Carolina recently? Do you remember seeing a performer named Joey Tucker? Did you know Joey Tucker, the man who was shot today, has a strong resemblance to Travis Kincaid? Did you know Joey Tucker was in the possession of a suitcase holding five million dollars in cash at the time he was murdered?”
“I visited a cousin in Charleston, that doesn’t mean a thing. I don’t know a Joey Tucker. Now, I must insist you leave my office. I have nothing further to say to you.”
Molly could feel the coldness of the woman sitting across from her. I must make her slip up and give herself away. She is right, her trip to Charleston is a coincidence and nothing more. Having tote bags filled with personal items doesn’t prove she is a murderer. Where is the baby? Molly shuddered thinking about the baby and wondering if she was still alive.
“Ms. Rice, why don’t you tell me where Travis Kincaid’s baby is?”
“This will do the talking for me, Ms. Ryan,” she pointed a small revolver directly at Molly’s heart. “I’ve killed once, and I will kill again. You and I are casually walking out the front door of this building. You will drive my car to my apartment. If you follow my commands, I might let you live. If not, I will take great pleasure in ending your meddling life.”
Detective Wentworth and Luke Sullivan stood behind a file cabinet in the clerical pool offices. They watched as Molly and Katherine Rice walked out of Katherine’s office. Molly saw them and signaled with a slight nod of her head that the woman was holding a gun.
The clerical staff took their lunch breaks at noon and the offices were empty. Luke and Detective Wentworth were helpless as Molly was being led to the door.
Just as the women were about to leave, the door swung open and Rennie DuBois stood blocking the way.
“Katherine Rice, you bitch, what have you done with Francis’s grandbaby. I swear I will kill you if you don’t tell me where she is.”
Rennie’s appearance threw Katherine off and Molly turned and pushed the weapon out of the woman’s hand.
Immediately, police surrounded Katherine Rice, handcuffing her, and holding her while Detective Wentworth approached.
“Ms. Rice, where is the baby?”
“I don’t know what you people are talking about, I want a lawyer.”
“Let me talk to her, Detective, I’ll beat it out of her if necessary,” said Rennie. “Remember sister, I come from a rough neighborhood in Chicago and I can fight dirty.”
It took two strong police officers to hold Rennie back.
“Shut up, you old hag, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Katherine, you know you were in love with Francis all those years and he never gave you the time of day.”
“Rennie, you loved him too and he couldn’t stand to have you around, that’s why he sent you on all those trips, he wanted you out of his sight. He probably paid all those men to have sex with you, so you’d stop salivating over him.”
“At least I had sex, that’s more than you can say, you dried up old prune.”
“Ladies, ladies,” said Abe, “this isn’t finding the baby, Ms. Rice I strongly suggest you tell us where the baby is. If you don’t I might be tempted to leave you alone in this office with Ms. DuBois.”
“The baby is all right; my neighbor is taking care of her. Look, Officer, I didn’t do anything wrong, Joseph was the one who planned the kidnapping, he took the baby after he killed Adele Kincaid. I did the world a favor when I shot the guy. He was going to drive off with the money. Travis can have other babies with that airhead, Brooke Hartley.”
Molly watched as Katherine Rice’s face became distorted. It was obvious the woman was mentally unstable. Rennie noticed the change too and backed off with the insults.
Detective Wentworth made a quick call to the station for Katherine’s address. Molly called Travis giving him the news and telling him to come to Katherine’s apartment building to meet his daughter.
Katherine Rice whimpered as she was being led out of Kincaid Towers. From the back seat of the police car, she gazed at the building she’d worked in for over thirty years. She whispered: “Goodbye Francis” as the car drove off.
“Brooke, you will come with me, won’t you?” cried Travis as he took her hand and led her to the stairway. She smiled and followed him knowing beside him is where she belonged. His car was parked in a reserved space in the enormous parking garage. He opened the door for Brooke and ran around to the other side. Brooke remembered the last time she rode in the car with Travis. They were on their way to the site of the suburb he’d envisioned in his mind; she’d teased him about naming the town Kincaidville. That was before she knew he was a husband and father. Granted, he didn’t know about the baby although he did keep his marriage a secret. His lie hurt her deeply but that was unimportant now.
The apartment building is ten minutes from Kincaid Towers. When they arrived, they could see lights from the police cars that surrounded the building.
“Brooke, if this Annabelle person has hurt my baby, I will kill her,” Travis said with such anguish, Brooke knew he meant it.
She read off the number of the apartment that she’d written although it was fixed in his mind. They raced to the third floor, again taking the stairs two at a time. Brooke was happy she was in the habit of working out, otherwise, she might not have made it to the landing.
The door to three thirty-one was open, they spotted Detective Wentworth who was holding a small bundle in his arms. “Come meet your daughter, Travis, she’s looking for her daddy.”
Travis’s eyes filled with tears as he held his baby girl for the first time. He felt awkward holding a baby and yet it felt natural to him.
“Look at her, Brooke, she’s so pretty.”
“She’s beautiful, Travis,” Brooke said through her own tears.
Molly, who’d arrived minutes before Travis, was sitting on the sofa with a sobbing Annabelle. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that horrible woman took your baby. She told me she was taking care of the baby for
a friend. I should have known she was up to no good. She never spoke to any of the other tenants. She walked around with her nose in the air, that one did. They are going to arrest me and put me in jail for aiding and abetting, I watch detective shows all the time and that’s what they do to people like me.”
“Annabelle,” Molly tried to reassure the elderly woman, “The police don’t suspect you of any wrongdoing, you were helping a neighbor and you have taken very good care of Lucy. You have nothing to fear.”
“Detective, may I take my daughter home?” asked Travis.
“She needs to be examined by a physician, Mr. Kincaid. She will be transported to the hospital. It’s likely the baby will be released to foster care until proof of her parentage is established.”
“No, Detective, I am not letting my daughter out of my sight. I am taking her home, I’ll call every pediatrician in the city if I have to, but she is coming with me.”
“Travis,” said Brooke, “I’ll call your brother, he can give you the legal advice you need. In the meantime, let the paramedics take Lucy to the hospital. They will let you ride in the ambulance with her, isn’t that right, Detective?”
“Of course, Travis. The doctors will let you stay with the baby while they examine her.”
“All right, please call my uncle, he knows more about domestic issues than the Kincaid attorneys do.”
While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, Brooke dialed Wiley Kent’s home number and asked for his help.
“I’ve been watching the story unfold on television Brooke, is the little girl all right?”
“She seems fine, Mr. Kent. Travis asked me to call, he would like you to represent him to make sure the baby isn’t put in foster care until he can prove she’s his daughter.”
“Travis asked for me? I’m surprised to hear that, tell him I’m on my way to the hospital and will meet him there.”
After reassurances from the police officers and Detective Wentworth, Annabelle stopped crying. She agreed to testify in court if necessary. Her curious neighbors, who had cracked their doors open and were watching the activity outside room three thirty-one all rushed to Annabelle’s door when the authorities departed. Annabelle was the talk of the apartment building. They called her a hero; there were no tears shed for Ms. Katherine Rice and her sudden departure from their lives.
Chapter Nineteen
Wylie Kent made a call to Dr. Pembroke at the Bainbridge Center from his car phone. He’d done a preliminary investigation into the center to aid in Brooke’s defense if needed.
He explained the situation to Dr. Pembroke. The doctor was anxious to help, the staff at the Bainbridge Center had become very fond of Adele and little Lucy. “I have a copy of Lucy’s birth certificate in Adele’s record. If memory serves me correctly, Travis Kincaid is listed as her birth father.” He pulled Adele’s record from his patient files searching for the birth certificate. “Here it is, Mr. Kent, it lists Mr. Kincaid as the father of the infant girl, Lucy Anne Kincaid. Adele was adamant about honoring her mother whose first name was Anne. I will forward a copy to you if it will save the child from foster care.”
“This is great news for my client. Thank you, doctor.”
“I’m happy the little girl will have her father. Mr. Kincaid attempted to visit his wife for months after she was admitted. I spoke to him often during that time and he struck me as being a decent fellow who only wanted the best for Adele. I’m sorry I discouraged him from continuing to visit her. He might have been able to put a stop to the relationship she was forming with Joseph Tucker. I had a bad feeling about that man although he brightened the residents’ day when he strummed that guitar. I feared he was a con artist but never thought he was capable of murder.”
“He was my nephew and I never knew of his existence, my brother was a piece of work, doctor. I don’t know how Travis managed to escape his upbringing.”
“Travis, I have some good news for you. Dr. Pembroke has sent me an image of Lucy’s birth certificate naming you as her father. The original is somewhere, probably in her residence in Charlotte. If we can’t obtain the original, we will request it from state records. In the meantime, I’m certain a judge will accept this copy as proof you are Lucy’s father.”
“Uncle Travis, how can I thank you? Brooke said you would come through for me and you did. How much do I owe you?”
“You owe me nothing, Travis, you are family.”
Travis’s eyes filled for the second time that day. “Would you like to see your grand-niece? The doctors say she’s in terrific shape after her ordeal.”
“I would love to meet little Lucy Anne.”
“Is Anne her middle name? Adele’s mother’s name was Anne. If she named our child after her grandmother, maybe it meant she had come to terms with the woman’s death.”
“Hello, Mr. Kent,” said Brooke, “It’s nice seeing you away from the slammer, it wasn’t my finest hour.”
“It’s nice to see you too, Brooke, please call me Wiley.”
With Lucy’s discharge papers in order, Travis realized they couldn’t leave without a car seat for the baby.
“Never fear,” said Molly, “Luke and I knew you would be bringing Lucy home and would need a car seat for her. We stopped by the department store and bought one. It’s in Luke’s car. Remember, your car is at Katherine Rice’s apartment.”
“You know, Molly, for someone who didn’t like me, you certainly are obligingly helpful.”
“Travis, it wasn’t that I didn’t like you, I didn’t trust you not to hurt my friend, Brooke. You always had beautiful women hanging on your arm. I trust Brooke will be the only one in the picture now.”
“Those women were nothing but props. I foolishly thought I was protecting Adele if people thought I was cavorting with women instead of waiting for my wife to be released from a mental facility. I admit I wasn’t truthful with Brooke; I was afraid she would stop seeing me and I didn’t want that to happen. You had every right to doubt my sincerity, Molly. I hope you and Brooke will forgive me someday.”
“Travis,” said Brooke, “let’s celebrate Lucy’s arrival, we have plenty of time to work on our relationship. I don’t like that you didn’t tell me the truth, but I do understand it. You are right, I’d have walked away then; I’m not sure I can walk away now.”
“Let’s get that little girl home, Carter has a room waiting for Lucy with everything a little one could possibly need,” said Molly. “The last I talked to him he was busy washing sheets and blankets for her crib. He called his mother to ask her what detergent he should buy for a baby’s sensitive skin. I think your manservant is turning into a fine nanny.”
Rennie was waiting in the penthouse when they came home with Lucy.
“I hope you don’t mind, Travis, I had to see your sweet little girl.”
“I don’t mind at all; you probably saved Molly’s life by startling Katherine Rice. My father would have been proud of you.” Travis put the baby in Rennie’s arms.
“Travis she’s beautiful, I remember when your father had your nanny bring you to the office when you were no bigger than this little angel. It was your first visit to Kincaid Enterprises. Francis showed you all around the offices, I can remember him saying: ‘Son, look around you, this will be yours someday.’ Little Lucy looks like you did back then.”
“I think when the time comes, I will let Lucy and her brothers and sisters decide their career paths for themselves.” He smiled at Brooke when he said it.
“Brothers and sisters? Are you planning a baseball team, Mr. Kincaid?” Brooke replied with a giggle.
Lucy began to fuss.
“I think this little girl needs her bed,” said Travis.” He carried her into the spare bedroom that Carter turned into a nursery in short order.”
“He makes a good father, Brooke, you will make a good mother, too.”
“Let’s not rush things, Rennie, Travis shouldn’t rush into anything only because he needs a mother for his child.”
/> “Travis needs you in his life, Brooke. I know he hurt you with his secrets; you must try to find it in your heart to forgive him.”
“That’s enough talk about Travis and Brooke,” Molly said, “it’s obvious you are troubled, Rennie, do you want to talk about it?”
“Don’t mind me, I’m an old fool who fell for a man who thinks I’m someone I’m not.”
“Rennie, who is the man? What happened in Montana?” Brooke opened a bottle of chardonnay and poured three glasses. “We’re listening, Rennie, tell us what he did to you.”
“Maybe I should talk about it instead of dwelling on what could have been. His name is Rex Madigan, he owns the ranch next to the one I bought. I met Rex at a western bar in town, a group of us from the guest ranch where I stayed piled in a pickup truck and went there to learn how to dance the Texas two-step. Rex joined us, and we became instant friends. His wife of twenty-five years passed away six months before.
“I knew I wanted to retire in Montana after my first visit. Maybe meeting Rex was part of the attraction although I fell in love with those blue western skies that summer.
“Rex and I kept in touch after I returned home. I knew he still loved his wife and you know how I felt about Francis. Last November, Rex called to tell me the old Hempstead ranch was being sold. Gus Hempstead’s health is not good, and his daughter insisted he give up the ranch and move in with her.
“After the appraisal and inspection passed, I bought the place sight unseen. The ranch hands continued with their jobs as usual. When I saw my new home for the first time, I was delighted. I knew Gus lived alone in the ranch house for years and didn’t know what to expect. The house was spotless, eventually, the furnishings will be replaced but it’s fine for now.
Murder in Kincaid Towers Page 13