Читать книгу Safe And Sound - J.D. Rhoades - Страница 10

CHAPTER FOUR

“EighteenthAirborneCorpsHeadquartersCompanyOfficeoftheProvostMarshal lCorporalDetwilerspeakingcanIhelpyou?” the female voice on the other end of the line compressed the prescribed greeting down into an unrecognizable blur of words, just like any other Army clerk Keller had ever met.

“Corporal,” he said, “my name is Jackson Keller. I’m attempting to locate a Sergeant David Lundgren regarding his…regarding a legal matter.”

“What sort of legal matter, sir?”

“It involves his daughter.”

“Support matters are handled by an allotment from the soldier’s pay. If you give me his unit designation I can give you the name and number of the officer to contact.”

“It’s not a support matter. It’s about custody.”

“That would be the office of the Judge Advocate General, sir. It would be handled by the JAG office at his unit level. If you give me his unit number, battalion first…”

Keller took a deep breath. He remembered well the first rule of military bureaucracy: What ever the problem is, make it someone else’s responsibility. “I don’t think JAG represents him, Corporal. We believe Sergeant Lundgren kidnapped his daughter.”

The clerk didn’t miss a beat. “That would be Criminal Investigation Division, their number is 555-4976, hold on and I’ll try to connect you.” Keller tried to say something else, but before he could get a word out, there was a click, then silence. Keller waited. A few seconds later, another click and a dial tone. He had been disconnected.

Keller sighed. He doubted that CID would get involved. Just like civilian cops, military police loathed domestic situations. He was convinced that he was going to get nowhere here. Still, he wanted to be able to tell Marie he had tried everything. He dialed the CID number. He waited for the clerk to complete his greeting, then began again. “I’m trying to locate a Sergeant David Lundgren—”

“That case is being handled by Special Agent Wilcox. Please hold.”

Keller was taken aback. What case? he thought to himself.

After a moment, a man’s voice came on the line. “Major Wilcox, can I help you?”

“Major Wilcox,” Keller said. “My name is Jackson Keller. I’m trying to locate—”

“Sergeant David Lundgren, right,” Wilcox said. “May I ask what your relationship is with Sergeant Lundgren, Mr. Keller?”

“I’ve been employed by the lawyer representing the mother of his child. We need to try to find him.”

“Support matters are handled by—”

“It’s not child support, damn it!” Keller snapped. “He’s taken his daughter. There’s a court order for her return.”

There was a pause. “You mean to tell me he might have a child with him?”

“You mean you aren’t—” Realization struck Keller like a hammer between the eyes. “Holy shit,” he said. “The Army really doesn’t know where he is, do they?”

“Where did you say you were, Mr. Keller?” Wilcox said.

“I didn’t,” Keller said and snapped the cell phone shut.

He tried to call Marie. He got the message saying she was either unavailable or had left the calling area. He fumbled for a moment for his wallet, then pulled out Tamara Healy’s business card. He worked his way though a receptionist and a paralegal before being allowed to leave a message on her voice mail.

“It’s Jack Keller,” he said. “They’re not stonewalling you. The Army doesn’t know where Lundgren is. They’ve got CID looking for him. And that…I don’t have to tell you, that’s weird.” He hung up.

***

Wilcox put down the phone. He took a moment to look again through the Lundgren case file. Finally he realized he was just stalling for time to avoid making the next call. He sighed. He hated having to report to anyone else. It was especially rankling when it was a civilian.

Still, orders were orders. He picked up the phone and dialed. It was answered after one ring. “Gerritsen.”

“This is Major Wilcox at Fort Bragg,” he said. “I was just contacted by a Jackson Keller. He said he was looking for Lundgren.”

“Did he say why?” Gerritsen asked.

Wilcox could see Gerritsen in his mind’s eye. The preppy-boy good looks, the dark glasses…He shook a pair of Rolaids out of the plastic bottle on his desk. “He said he worked for an attorney. There’s a custody case going on. Lundgren’s apparently the father.”

“Right,” Gerritsen said.

“You knew about that,” Wilcox said.

“We did, yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“We didn’t think it was important at the time,” Gerritsen said.

“And what about now?” Wilcox asked. “Is it important now?”

“It may be,” Gerritsen said.

“Thanks for sharing all this information with me,” Wilcox said. The irony was lost on Gerritsen. Most irony was.

“Thank you for calling, Agent Wilcox.” Gerritsen placed just enough stress on the word “agent” to let Wilcox know he was only humoring him by using the title. “We’ll check this out and get back to you.”

Wilcox hung up without responding. He popped the Rolaids into his mouth and went to shake another out of the bottle. It was empty. Time to buy more.