Undeniably Yours (20 page)

The nurse looked between us—focusing on Sean’s gauzed head and my boot—and said to Aiden, “Interesting company you keep, Lieutenant.”

“We’re not usually this…bandaged,” he said.

“Why do I doubt that?” she asked with a smirk. “Twenty minutes until visiting is over.” She scooted around Sean and me and headed out the door, tugging it closed behind her.

“Did you bribe her to overlook the fact that Ava is here?” I asked him, incredulous that she hadn’t said a word about it.

“Turns out visitors under eighteen are allowed in with an adult,” he said.

“All that wasted subterfuge,” I said mournfully.

“You call that subterfuge?” Sean asked. “I had to whip off my hat and show off my head wound to keep the nurses from running in here at the commotion.”

I rolled my eyes as Aiden laughed.

Laughed
.

Orlinda had worked more than magic. This was a miracle, and I told her so.

“Willing victims of my gift are my favorite kind,” she said, her plump cheeks dimpling as she smiled broadly.

“Hihihi!” Squirming, Ava held out her hands toward Aiden. I carefully set her on the edge of the bed and she lunged forward. He caught her and lifted her in the air.

Afraid he was going to drop her or reinjure himself, I held my breath, but it turned out I had nothing to worry about. Aiden had everything perfectly under control.

“He won’t be running a marathon anytime soon, but I believe any talk of surgery can now be squashed,” Orlinda said, wheeling toward me.

“Forget a marathon, I’m happy to be able to walk down the hallway,” he said, trying to keep wires and tubes away from Ava’s quick fingers.

I glanced at my boot, wondering if Orlinda could speed up the healing of my broken foot, but then I remembered she once told me she couldn’t fix broken bones. Plus, I’d already used my allotted favors for the day.

Sean and I sat in matching armchairs, the fabric worn and faded and the seat cushions lumpy. Orlinda reached for my hand, holding it loosely in her own. “Aiden’s been kind enough to update me on the case. It’s become quite complex.”

“An understatement,” I said, flicking a glance at Aiden and Ava.

When I called to tell him about Jarvis Kinson’s statement, he’d shared his own news. That Corey McDaniel’s fingerprints had been on the doll found in Kira’s SUV. Police were tracking Dustin’s father but so far hadn’t been able to locate him.

Orlinda studied me closely. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

Where her skin touched mine, warmth flowed through my hand and up my fingers. One of her eyebrows dipped low and she tipped her head to the side, assessing. She was reading my energy. “Good, good,” she murmured, sounding as though she didn’t believe me.

It was nearly impossible to lie to her. Beyond her psychic gifts, she was a psychologist and trained to detect deception.

The truth was I was stressed out. It had been a rough couple of weeks—mentally and physically. My mind was tired. My body was achy and tired. And I had a long way to go in learning how to juggle my personal life and my work. There had to be a balance. I just needed to find it. Until I did, I didn’t particularly want to talk about it. Especially not here. Aiden and Sean were also dealing with much the same issues.

“The little boy,” she said. “The witness who came forward claiming to see him was reliable?”

Sean said, “We believe so. He provided details that verified Dustin McDaniel’s mother’s version of events. The social worker came to the home on January third and took custody of the boy.”

“The witness should have come forward earlier,” Aiden said, his tone hard and unyielding.

“Remember,” I said, “he didn’t know anything untoward had happened until Patty Keefe raised alarms in April. None of us did.”

Although my heart ached for the situation Patty was in, I also grieved for Alisha McDaniel, for what she had lost to her addiction. She had to have been so far gone in a haze of narcotics not to raise hell—or seemingly care—when Dustin had been taken away. I admit it made me angry as well. How had she let this happen to herself? Why hadn’t she fought harder? Why hadn’t she been stronger to resist the lure of the drugs? But then I had to remember that her drug use had caused her to lose absolutely everything, including her life. It seemed like that should be punishment enough, but I still struggled not to judge her choices.

“Then at that time he should have come forward.” Aiden had given Ava an empty cup to play with. She was having a grand time banging it against the bed’s railing.

“Should have, could have, but didn’t,” Orlinda said. She pinned me with a meaningful glare. “There’s no use in dwelling on what cannot be changed.”

Her message to me was clear. However, I had no idea how not to dwell.

I was a dweller.

Fortunately, not a bottom dweller.

At least not yet. There was still time.

“Aiden mentioned the little boy has a blanket?” Orlinda asked. “Any luck finding it yet?”

“Not yet. I’m waiting for a return call from the woman who has it.” I explained the situation. “If she’s camping or something like that, she might not have cell coverage.”

“You could do another reading,” Orlinda suggested. “If the blanket is in the car, and the car is now parked at a cabin or wherever, then you might be able to see the location. Someone could be sent to retrieve the blanket.”

“Good idea,” I said. “I’ll set up another meeting with Patty Keefe.”

“What I don’t understand,” Sean said, “is why the CFC has no idea where Dustin McDaniel is. If Cat Bennett took custody of him, then there should be paperwork…”

I rubbed my temples. “Maybe the CFC is keeping it under wraps. There have been numerous discrepancies on case reports. This could be another one. Cat brought him in and placed him with a foster family, and the agency lost the information…” It sounded like a stretch to my own ears.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t Cat admit to taking custody of him?” Sean asked. “It would have made her life easier to put the blame on the CFC, that’s for sure.”

It would have. She’d been under fire since his disappearance became public. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe she had a confidentiality agreement? We should ask Elliman Bay. Her boss,” I explained to Orlinda.

“It also doesn’t explain the other two missing children,” Sean added. “I’m curious if those families also say that the CFC took custody of their children. We could be looking at something much bigger, like black market adoption, or God forbid, that they were sold to the highest bidder in a trafficking scheme.”

Nausea rolled through my stomach at the thought. Though I knew it was an all-too-frequent occurrence, it made me feel ill to think too much about it, especially when small children were involved. I watched Ava and wanted to burst into tears.

Orlinda set her hand on my arm, and again I felt that strange warmth radiating to all my pulse points.

There’s no use in dwelling on what cannot be changed.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to focus on that message, to embrace it. But I couldn’t quite let go of feeling like things like this should never happen. Ever.

“Have you checked the caseworker’s bank account?” Orlinda asked.

“When Lucy called earlier to tell me about her meeting with the witness who saw Dustin being taken away, I had my team run a report. There was nothing unusual on her bank statements,” Aiden said. “Two joint accounts with her husband, checking and savings. Lots of debt—school loans, a mortgage, car payments. They were mostly living month to month but managed to build a small savings, a few thousand dollars. Unemployment benefits had just kicked in, supplementing her loss of income, but no big deposits. No red flags. The only way to find out why she took Dustin is to ask her. We need to find her.”

“I’m working on it.” I explained to Orlinda about the scent readings I’d done and how they’d yet to reveal anything.

“Don’t lose hope yet, Lucy,” she said. “Sometimes scents can fade or comingle with other scents and dilute the energy. If you continue to see nothing from the pieces you have, inquire for more items.”

“And if I still don’t see anything?” I asked softly.

Her lips flattened into a grim line. “Then it is undoubtedly because the woman in question is seeing nothing at all.”

Aiden said, “That’s not an option. Cat Bennett holds the keys to this case.”

I didn’t point out to him that we might not have a say in the matter. He knew.

“Especially in light of this.” Reaching over, he grabbed a folio from the bedside table and handed it off to me.

Frowning, I opened the folder, almost afraid of what I was going to find.

“My team sent that over along with her bank records,” Aiden said.

“What is it?” Sean asked, leaning over my shoulder.

Aiden replaced Ava’s cup with a pen and notebook. She happily scribbled nonsense on the paper. “Phone records for the Bennetts.”

“What am I looking at?” I asked. “It’s just a bunch of numbers.”

Aiden said, “See the call made from their landline at eight fifty-three on Thursday night?”

Thursday night. My adrenaline kicked up a notch. “Yeah?”

“That was to Kira’s cell phone,” he said. “The conversation lasted over a minute.”

I glanced up. “Ross Bennett didn’t mention anything about speaking with Kira.”

“That’s because he didn’t.” Aiden’s tone was hard. Rock solid. “At eight fifty-three, he was at the local police station filing a missing persons report on his wife.”

“Then who made the call?” Orlinda asked. “Cat Bennett?”

“Don’t know,” Aiden said.

“What about Cat’s cell phone?” I asked. “Any strange calls made on that?”

“Last call was to her husband’s cell phone Thursday morning. As you know, her phone was found along with her purse and wallet in her car at the T station.”

Sean said, “Why would Cat be missing all day, then go home to call Kira, only to disappear again? Was she setting up a meeting? Why not call her on her cell phone?”

Ava leaned over the bed and waved the pen at us. “Hi!”

“Hi there.” Orlinda reached out and took Ava’s hand.

I watched Orlinda’s face carefully to see if she was reading the girl’s energy, but she gave absolutely nothing away. A trait I needed to learn.

Aiden said, “Again, there’s no way to know right now, but it makes me wonder.”

“Wonder what?” I asked.

“If Cat Bennett is being framed,” he said, his tone dark. “For what happened to Dustin McDaniel and what likely has happened to Kira.”

We were all silent for moment, letting that sink in. The pieces, no matter how I tried to shove them together, didn’t quite make sense. “Kira might be hiding out,” I said, clinging to that hope. “Her bank account…”

Aiden nodded, but he didn’t seem to have the same hopes I did.

“If Cat Bennett is being framed, by whom?” Sean asked.

“My gut says someone inside the CFC,” he said. “A search warrant request is before a judge right now.”

The nurse I almost knocked over tapped on the door. “Time’s almost up.”

“I need to get going anyway.” Orlinda looked at me. “Walk me to the elevator?”

“Absolutely.” I grabbed my crutch.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming, Orlinda,” Aiden said.

Really, she’d gone above and beyond. “Me, either,” I added.

“Is there anything I can do?” Aiden asked. “A donation or something?”

“No, no.” She waved him off. “But…”

“What?” he asked.

“I do like that hat…” She motioned to Sean’s hand—to the fedora.

Apparently more than happy to see the thing go, he thrust it at her. “It’s yours.”

Putting it on, she jauntily tipped her head. “Perfect.” With a wave, she wheeled out of the room.

Sean looked up at me. “You think she knew I hated it and was doing me a favor taking it off my hands?”

“Undoubtedly. I’ll be right back.” I crutched quickly to catch up with her.

She’d already punched the elevator call button. “You know you can contact Dr. Paul. He would be able to tell if the mother’s spirit surrounds the little girl.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I will if I have to.”

“Your call.”

I said, “I need a little time away from the other Whiners right now.”

She nodded. “Understandable.”

The group came with a lot of emotional baggage. Stuff I hadn’t quite worked through yet. I was glad Orlinda understood.

She looked up at me, studying my face. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I’m trying,” I said. “But I keep getting in the way of psychopaths.”

Her lips curved in a half smile. “Take care of yourself up here,” she clarified, tapping her head. “You’re not a superhero. You cannot save the world. You shouldn’t condemn yourself for not being able to.”

“You’re crushing my dreams. I’d really like a cape.”

“Lucy.”

I sighed. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder. One case at a time, okay? And learn to appreciate all those you have been able to help.”

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. A shiver went down my spine at the sound, but I stepped forward and held the door open with my body as she rolled forward. “Be careful, Lucy Valentine.”

She smiled as the doors closed.

You cannot save the world. You shouldn’t condemn yourself for not being able to.

Catching a glimpse of my reflection in the stainless steel elevator doors, I saw the determination flaring in my eyes.

I might not be able to save the world, but I could find Kira and bring closure to little Ava, who’d need it to fully heal. And I could find Dustin to set his grandmother’s heart at ease.

Uncovering the truth on what matters.

It had been Kira’s tagline.

But it had just become mine.

As I spun around to head back to Aiden’s room, I could practically see my superhero cape flying out behind me…

B
linking drowsily, Sean twisted his torso to look at the clock on the nightstand. “It’s three in the morning, Lucy.”

At the sound of Sean’s voice, Odysseus suddenly stopped running on his wheel as though he was disturbed by noise in his usually-quiet nocturnal environment. The two cats, twined at the foot of the bed, lifted their heads in curiosity, deemed us unworthy of further attention, then went back to sleep. Thoreau had opted to sleep with Scout in the dining room under Ava’s crib, the traitor.