Читать книгу Into Thin Air - Mary Ellen Porter - Страница 12

THREE

“What I am about to tell you is sensitive,” Agent DeMarco said. “I need your word that you’ll keep it confidential.”

“Of course,” Laney agreed.

“Good, because you’re the only witness to a kidnapping that is connected to the abduction of two other children over the past six weeks.”

“That’s not a secret, Agent. It’s been in the news for a few weeks.” In fact, those abductions—one outside of DC and the other in Annapolis—had been nagging at her when she saw the van on Ashley Street.

“There have also been similar clusters of child abductions in two other states.”

She definitely hadn’t heard that before. “How many children are we talking about?”

“Thirteen others, so far. Not including the three from this area.”

“Sixteen kids missing? I’d think that would be all over the news.”

“It has been. Regional news only. The first seven disappeared from the Los Angeles area over a four-month period. The next six disappeared from the Boston vicinity in just under three months. In many cases, there were reports of a dark van in the area around the time of the abductions.”

“Just like the van tonight.”

He nodded. “Your description is the most detailed, but other witnesses mentioned a dark panel van. Unfortunately, no one has seen the driver. You’re the first witness we have who’s seen everything—the van, the missing child, the kidnappers. It’s the break I’ve been waiting for, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize it. We need to keep the fact that you survived quiet for as long as possible. The less the kidnappers realize we know, the easier it will be to close in on them.”

“I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”

“It’s not as simple as that. The kidnappers are aware that you were shot. They could have followed the ambulance to the hospital. They could be waiting around, hoping to hear some information that will confirm your death or refute it.”

“Why would they bother? I saw them, but I don’t know who they are.”

“You’ve worked with law enforcement for years, Laney. You understand how this works. They tried to silence you to keep you from reporting what you witnessed. If they see that they failed, they may try again.”

“But is sticking around to kill me really worth the risk when they could just skip town with the kids and disappear?” That’s what she thought they’d do, but she wasn’t sure how clear her thinking was. Her head ached so badly, she just wanted to close her eyes.

“This trafficking ring is extensive,” Agent DeMarco explained. “We’ve had reports that the children are being transported overseas and sold into slavery. This is a multi-tier operation that isn’t just being run here in the United States. There are kids missing in Europe, in Canada, in Asia, and each time, the kidnappings occur in clusters. Five, six, seven kids from a region go missing, and then nothing.”

“Except families left with broken hearts and no answers,” Laney murmured, the thought of all those kids, all those parents and siblings, all those empty bedrooms and empty hearts making her heart ache and head pound even more.

“Right.” Agent DeMarco leaned forward, and Laney could see the black rim around his blue irises, the dark stubble on his chin. He had a tiny scar at the corner of his left brow and a larger one close to his hairline. He looked tough and determined, and for some reason she found that reassuring.

“Olivia’s abduction makes the third in this area,” Agent DeMarco continued, “but if their pattern holds, they plan to target more from the surrounding area before moving the kids.”

“It seems a safer bet for them to cut their losses and move on,” she said doubtfully.

“We’re talking money, Laney. A lot of it. Money is a great motivator. It can turn ordinary men into extraordinary criminals.”

“And kidnappers into murderers?”

“That, too.” He stood and paced across the room. “This is a business for them, with schedules to keep and deliveries to make. I’m certain the children are being held somewhere while they wait for prearranged transport out of the country. Moving them to another location would also risk exposure. You were shot tonight because they can’t afford any witnesses. They need to buy time to get their quota of children ready for delivery. With you dead or incapacitated, the immediate threat of exposure is gone.”

“So as long as they believe I died, it’s business as usual.”

Agent DeMarco nodded, returning to his chair, and leveling his gaze on her. “The longer it takes for the kidnappers to realize you survived, the better it will be for everyone.”

“Not for Olivia,” she pointed out, that image—the one of the girl, her eyes wide, begging for help—filling her mind again. She’d failed to save her, and that knowledge was worse than the pain in her head, worse than the nausea. “She’s terrified and alone. She doesn’t care who knows what. All she cares about is getting home.”

“You’re wrong. It does matter for Olivia,” Agent DeMarco responded. “There’s a chance that we can reunite Olivia with her family, but only if the kidnappers aren’t scared into moving early. All we have to do is find Olivia’s kidnappers, and we’ll find her. We’ll find them all.”

His words made her heart jump, and she was almost ready to spring up from the chair and start looking in every place they could possibly be. “Then why are we sitting here? Why aren’t we out searching for them?”

“Chief Andrews said you’d ask that,” he responded, a half smile curving his lips. “He told me to assure you that he has a K-9 team working the scene.”

But Laney knew they’d not find much. Olivia had been driven off in a van. Even her retired search dog, Jax, who had been one of the best air scent dogs in the country, wouldn’t be able to pick up her scent under those circumstances.

She recognized that, but still, she wanted to be in on the action in a way she hadn’t wanted to be since the accident that took her teammates’ lives. The accident that had prompted her to leave her search-and-rescue work behind and put Jax into early retirement. The thought stole some of her energy, and she sank back against the chair. “That’s good. If there’s something to find, they’ll uncover it.”

“That’s what I’ve been told. You’ve been working with them for a while?”

She had. For nearly two years now. She volunteered her time to ensure high-drive, problem dogs were given the chance to succeed. She’d helped train several dogs that had been like Murphy—problematic but with obvious promise. Although Kent made repeated offers to make her role with the department more permanent, she was reluctant to fall back into the stressful life of a contract employee. Besides, her own clients kept her busy enough. “Unofficially. I own a private boarding and training facility in Davidsonville. Murphy is the most recent in a line of MPD K-9s I’ve worked with.”

“Murphy.” His smile broadened. “He’s quite a dog.”

“He’s quite a problem child, but we’re working on it.”

“He came through for you tonight,” he pointed out.

“Yes. Though technically, he’s supposed to leave the vehicle only on command.”

“Well, in this case, it’s a good thing he didn’t.”

“I think seeing the gun set him off. We just started working with firearms last week, and he’s making good progress.” Better than she had hoped. She was pleased at how quickly Murphy was improving after being booted out of the MPD K-9 program once. He was a little high-energy and distractible, but he possessed the important shepherd traits—intelligence and loyalty.

Agent DeMarco smiled. “Andrews and the K-9 handlers certainly seemed happy the dog came through for you.”

She forced herself out of the chair, every muscle in her body protesting. “Speaking of which, I need to talk to Kent. I don’t suppose you have my things?”

“Purse? Cell Phone? House keys?”

“Yes.”

“They’ve been collected as evidence. Your Jeep was impounded, too. And your clothes—” his gaze dropped from her face to the cotton hospital gown “—were also taken as evidence.”

“I guess I’ll be flagging a taxi in this hospital gown,” she responded. She wasn’t going to stay in the hospital any longer than necessary. Her business was thriving. That meant plenty of work to do at the kennel. She was hoping that would keep her mind off her failures. She didn’t need to spend months mourning what she hadn’t been able to do for Olivia. She’d been down that path before, and it hadn’t led to anything but misery.

“Leaving in a hospital gown isn’t going to work. It’s a surefire way to get the wrong people’s attention. When you leave, we’re going to do everything possible to make sure no one notices you.”

“That’s going to be really difficult with—”

There was a sudden commotion outside the door, a flurry of movement and voices that had Agent DeMarco pivoting toward the sound.

“Stay there,” he commanded, striding toward the door and yanking it open.

His broad back blocked Laney’s view, and she moved closer, trying to see over his shoulder. A police officer stood in the doorway, back to the room.

“Ma’am, I told you no one can enter without permission,” he said to someone Laney couldn’t see.

“Ridiculous,” a woman responded, the voice as familiar as the morning sun.

Great-Aunt Rose. Someone must have called her.

“Aunt Rose, don’t—” Laney began.

Too late. Rose somehow darted through the blockade of masculinity, slipping past the officer.

Agent DeMarco stepped to the side, letting her by. Obviously he wasn’t worried about a five-foot-nothing octogenarian. The officer, on the other hand, looked quite disgruntled.

“Do you want me to cuff you, ma’am?” he shouted.

“Don’t be silly, boy. I’m too old. You’d break my brittle wrists.” Rose smoothed loose strands of silver hair back into her neat bun, then brushed invisible lint from her beige slacks. Her gaze settled on Agent DeMarco for a moment before her focus shifted to Laney.

“You’re awake! Thank the good Lord for His mercy!” she cried, hefting an oversize bag onto the bed.

“Yeah,” the officer sputtered. “She’s awake, and I’m going to lose my job.”

“Now, why would you go and do something like that?” Aunt Rose asked, completely unfazed by the commotion she’d caused. Typical Rose. Always in the midst of trouble and never quite sure why.

“My aunt is notorious for getting what she wants,” Laney cut in. “I’m sure Chief Andrews will understand the position you were in.”

“He might, but I don’t,” the officer responded irritably. “But I guess as long as she’s your aunt, I’ll go back to my post.”

He returned to the corridor, closing the door with a little more force than necessary.

“You’ve annoyed him, Aunt Rose,” Laney said.

“And you’ve annoyed me. Getting yourself shot up and tossed into the hospital and interrupting a perfectly wonderful book club meeting,” Rose responded. She touched Laney’s cheek and shook her head. “What in the world happened? I mean, Tommy said you’d been shot...but I figured he’s so old, he probably got it wrong.”

“Tom is barely sixty, Aunt Rose, and you know it.” Laney sighed. Her aunt and the deputy chief of police Tom Wallace had never hit it off. She’d have to remember to thank him for calling Rose. The poor guy tried to avoid Rose as often as possible.

“But he acts like he’s a hundred, ’bout as fun as a stick in the mud. Remember that picnic at the kennel last year? He—”

“Aunt Rose, please. I’m not in the mood for trips down memory lane,” Laney said, her head pounding with renewed vigor.

“Are you in the mood to sit down?” Agent DeMarco asked, taking Laney’s arm and urging her to the chair she’d abandoned. “You look like you probably should.”

She settled into the chair, watching with horror as Rose peered up at Agent DeMarco. If Laney’s brain had been functioning at full capacity, she’d have found a way to refocus her aunt’s attention. As it was, all she could do was hope that Rose didn’t say anything she’d regret. Or, more to the point, that Laney would regret.

“You must be that FBI agent Tommy told me about,” Rose said with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am. Special Agent Grayson DeMarco.”

“Well, I’m too old to be remembering all those names and titles—what’s your mama call you?”

Agent DeMarco smiled at that. “She calls me Gray.”

“Well, then, Gray it is, and you can call me Rose. None of those niceties like ‘ma’am’...that just makes me feel old.” Rose plopped down in the chair Agent DeMarco had vacated only moments ago.

“How’d you get here Aunt Rose? I hope you didn’t drive,” Laney said. The thought of Rose speeding down Route 50 was not especially comforting.

“Of course not. You know my license was temporarily revoked after that unfortunate incident at Davis’s Plant Emporium. Really, I don’t understand why everyone was so upset—it was only a couple of bushes and some potted plants, after all...but that’s neither here nor there.” Rose shook her head and patting Laney’s knee. “Tommy drove me. Kent sent him to pick me up. I imagine Tommy will be along soon.” She lowered her voice to a decidedly loud whisper. “I made him drop me off at the door so no one would see us walk in together—that’s how rumors get started. Before you know it, the whole congregation will be saying I was arrested or some such nonsense.”

“Rose,” Agent DeMarco said, “did Deputy Chief Wallace explain that we need to keep the details of this situation quiet?”

“Yes, yes. He explained. No need to worry about me. My mind is a steel trap, and my lips are sealed.” Rose put a hand up as if waving away the agent’s concerns, then turned to Laney. “So, how on earth did you get yourself shot?”

Was Laney allowed to mention the kidnapping? She didn’t know, so she kept it brief. “I witnessed a crime and tried to intervene.”

“I bet you weren’t carrying that mace I gave you last Christmas, were you?” Rose frowned. “That stuff’s supposed to be powerful enough to stop a bear in its tracks. A criminal would probably have a hard time aiming at you with that in his eyes. I’ve got my can of it right in that bag. Anyone tries to come at us, I’ll take him down.”

* * *

Grayson would almost have liked to see that.

Laney’s aunt looked about as old as Methuselah, but she moved like a woman much younger. He could picture her reaching into the bag, yanking out the spray and taking down a kidnapper.

A quick rap at the door and a young female doctor walked in, followed closely by Deputy Chief Tom Wallace. Grayson had met him at the crime scene, and he’d liked the guy immediately. Though old-school and by-the-book, he didn’t have any compunction about sharing information with the FBI.

“Agent DeMarco,” Wallace said, “the chief said to let you know they’ve finished with the crime scene. He’s going to the precinct to make sure the blood and finger prints on the gun are expedited for processing.”

“Thanks, Deputy.” So far he liked the way Chief Andrews handled things, and he wasn’t surprised that Andrews was taking a very personal interest in the case. “I may head that way myself after Laney is discharged.”

“If she’s discharged,” Wallace replied. “The doctor will decide that and then we can come up with a plan for getting her out of here.”

They weren’t going to do anything. Grayson had a plan, and he was sticking to it. He didn’t bother telling Wallace that. The doctor was already leaning over Laney, flashing a light in her eyes, asking about pain level, nausea, dizziness. Laney answered quietly.

“We did an MRI when you were brought in. I’m happy to report that there’s no fracture and no hemorrhage in the brain,” the doctor said, tucking a loose strand of black curly hair behind her ear and pushing her glasses up on her nose. “You do have a concussion, and the effects of that can last for a while. Expect the headache to linger for the next few days. I can give you some prescription-strength Tylenol to take the edge off the headache, or something stronger if you think you’ll need it.”

“Prescription-strength Tylenol’s fine.”

The doctor marked something in her chart. “You were really fortunate, you know. If that bullet had traveled a different trajectory—just a half an inch in any direction—the outcome would have been very different.” She tucked her pen in her lab-coat pocket and her clipboard under her arm. “There’s really no need to keep you here overnight, assuming there’s someone at home to monitor you.”

“I’ll be with her,” Rose piped up.

The doctor looked over at Rose, then back at Laney, an almost indiscernible look of concern crossing her face. “Do you two live alone?”

“Oh, we don’t live together,” Rose responded. “I like my space. But I’m happy to stay with her for a few days.”

“I see.” The doctor frowned. “Maybe it would be best if you stayed here overnight, Laney.” Her gaze jumped to Grayson. “Unless you two—”

“No!” Laney said quickly, cheeks reddening. “He’s a—”

“Law enforcement.” Grayson cut in.

“I see,” the doctor responded. “It’s no problem to let you stay here tonight, Laney. We can monitor your condition—”

“I’ll be fine, doctor. I’m sure I’ll sleep better in my own bed,” Laney insisted.

“Well, if you’re certain, the nurse will be in momentarily to remove the IV. She’ll give you written wound-care instructions and your medication, then wheel you out.”

“I think I can make it out without a wheelchair—” Laney began, but the doctor was already walking out of the room, with Deputy Chief Wallace close behind. Grayson figured they would discuss Laney. Though he was curious to know what they were saying, he was more interested in making sure Laney stayed safe, so he didn’t follow. He just waited as Rose hovered over Laney, chatting incessantly, while a nurse arrived and removed the IV. Grayson spent the time counting the seconds in his head until he could get Laney safely home.

The nurse handed Laney discharge instructions and a bottle of pills and went to look for a wheelchair.

A few seconds later, Wallace returned. “Looks like you’re clear to go, Laney. Once the nurse gets back, I’ll roll you out and—”

“How about you take Rose, and I’ll take Laney?” Grayson suggested.

“Now, wait just a minute,” Rose protested. “I’m staying right here with my niece until she leaves this building.”

“Rose,” Laney interrupted. “Don’t argue. Just do what you’re asked so we can get things moving. I want to get out of here quickly, and I don’t really care how it happens.”

Rose’s face softened. “Of course, love. But don’t you worry. I’ll have Tommy bring me to your house. I’ll be there when you get home.” Rose began to turn away but stopped. “Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you some clothes and your spare house keys. They’re in the bag on the bed. Do you need help dressing?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you at home. Come on, Tommy.” She grabbed Wallace’s arm and dragged him to the door.

“That’s your cue to leave, too,” Laney told Grayson quietly. She’d regained some of her color, but she still looked too fragile for Grayson’s liking. He wasn’t completely happy that she was being released tonight. He would have preferred she stay in the hospital under guard until they found the kidnappers, but since that wasn’t going to happen, escorting her home was the next best option.

“I thought we agreed that we’re going together.”

“We may be leaving together, but I’m not putting on my street clothes while you’re standing in the room.” She reached into the bag Rose had brought and pulled out what looked like a huge pink sweater. “Great,” she muttered.

“Don’t like the color choice?”

She turned the sweater so he could see the front. A giant white poodle with fuzzy yarn fur stared out at him.

“Nice,” he said, swallowing a laugh.

“If she brought me the matching leggings...” She pulled out bright pink leggings covered in white dog bones. “She did.”

“A Christmas gift?”

“Birthday. Two years ago. Needless to say, I’ve never worn them. Typical Rose, bringing them for me when she knows I have no other option but to put them on.”

Grayson smirked. He wasn’t into fashion, but even he could see why a person would not want to be caught dead in that getup.

Then the smirk died on his lips, the thought sobering him instantly. The truth was that if he wasn’t vigilant, that is exactly what could happen to Laney Kensington.

“You have options,” he said. “It’s that or the hospital gown. Pick your poison.”

“Right.” She pulled the outfit to her chest. “I’ll change in the bathroom.”

It took her longer than it should have. She might have told the doctor she was feeling okay, but Grayson wasn’t buying it. Her eyes had been glassy, her complexion still a little too waxy. If she passed out in the bathroom, he wouldn’t know it.

“Laney?” Grayson rapped on the door. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She opened the door, her body covered from neck to ankle in pink and white.

He shouldn’t have smiled. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Wow,” he murmured as she met his gaze.

“And not in a good way, right?”

“You almost make it work.”

She offered a wan smile and sighed. “I’m not worried about making it work. I’m worried about everyone in the hospital catching a glimpse of me in it. If we’re trying to slip out of here undetected, this outfit isn’t going to help.”

“I can fix that,” Grayson said, shrugging out of his jacket and setting it on her shoulders. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, and he tugged the hood up over her hair, his fingers grazing silky skin.

That he noticed surprised him. Since Andrea’s death, he’d devoted himself to his job. There wasn’t room in his life for anything else.

He stepped back. The jacket hung past Laney’s thighs, the sleeves covering her hands.

“It’s a little big,” he said.

She scowled, pulling at the pink leggings. “Not big enough, I’m afraid.”

He laughed. “Well, at least the poodle is covered.”

“There is that.” She grabbed Aunt Rose’s bag from the bed. “Do you think if I press the button, the nurse will come any faster? I’m ready to get out of here.”

“You can give it a try,” he responded. He was anxious to leave, too. He had an uneasy feeling that said things weren’t going to go down as smoothly as he wanted them to.

Laney jabbed the call button. “Really, I think a wheelchair is silly. I’m perfectly capable of—”

The lights went out, the room plunging into darkness. No light seeping in under the door. No light filtering in from behind the curtain. When he’d driven in, Grayson had noticed construction signs for a new wing—perhaps the power outage was related to that. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to assume anything.

“What’s going on?” Laney whispered.

“I don’t know,” he responded, grabbing her hand and pulling her close to his side. “But, I can tell you this. We’re not waiting for the wheelchair.”