Veiled Threat (5 page)

Sidney looked from Giulia to Frank, worry lines forming between her eyes. “Um, Mr. D., that was Captain Reilly.”

“Sidney, don’t listen to Giulia, she’s just trying to apply that famous Catholic guilt. What’s the message?”

“He says please come back to his office. He’ll buy lunch.”

“Crap.”

Giulia said,” What’s wrong with that?”

“He wants to soften me up. Lunch is his favorite weapon.”

“Maybe he’s going to give me another opportunity to pour hot coffee on Poole.” Giulia stood and headed for the coat rack. “It’s Tuesday. It’s nearly noon. The window for getting Katie back is closing fast. I’m willing to discuss anything that may help.”

seven

“I went with the
safe choice,” Jimmy said as he ripped open a large white paper bag. “Isaly’s chipped ham, lettuce, tomato, brown mustard, no pickles.”

“God be praised,” Frank said, unwrapping a foot-long sub.

“What do you have against pickles?” Giulia folded her sub wrapper into a neat rectangular placemat without disturbing the actual sandwich.

“How do you do that?” Frank studied Giulia’s paper and shook his head, unscrewing the top of his Coke bottle. “Pickles are zombie cucumbers: green, droopy, and excreting unspecified innards. I only eat clean kills.”

Giulia laughed. “Next Halloween I may dress up as a zombie pickle, just to see the look on your face.” She smiled at Jimmy. “Thank you for lunch. This smells heavenly.”

“Nothing says brain food like a hot chipped-ham sub. We’re gonna need it.” He clicked his mouse with his right hand and took a bite from the sandwich in his left. “I got Davis away from Poole, and we combed through their report and the documents your friend sent me. Assuming that the three kidnappings are connected, we’re looking at the same person—or people—running a kidnapping ring. If not, we’re looking at a mighty long coincidence.”

Giulia set down her own Coke. “Of course they have to be the same person.”

“Not necessarily. Black-market baby rings are more prevalent than you want to know.”

She shuddered. “But isn’t it obvious that in these three cases the kidnappers deliberately targeted adoptees of gays?”

Frank said in between bites, “Where’s conclusive proof that gay couples are the only target?”

Jimmy set down his sub and wiped his hands. “The information your friend has focuses only on two kidnappings, which, granted, have a very similar pattern.”

“Show me, please. She sent everything to me, but I haven’t been able to study them yet.”

He handed them a set of printouts and reentered his password to unlock his screen. “The top pages are about the first couple in Akron. Young woman with middle-aged partner. One hundred percent honest on their application, as you can see.”

Giulia snickered. “I don’t suppose I’d have the nerve to ask a male friend to ejaculate into a turkey baster, either.”

“The things I see in this job.” Jimmy clicked his mouse. “They had contacts at several local hospitals. A mother gave birth, stayed overnight, and walked out.”

Frank stopped in the act of taking a bite. “She left her newborn? Every time I think I’ve seen too much, people surprise me.”

“Fifteen-year-old black mother, forty-year-old Asian father. Neither family wanted the baby. The father had already skipped town; the teenager boarded a bus and hasn’t been seen since.”

Frank swallowed. “I take it back.”

Giulia pointed to the bottom of her page. “The adoption laws are less strict in Ohio.”

Jimmy said, “Yes and no. This couple had all their paperwork and background checks in place. They also had connections and money. Bribes are effective grease. Three months later, the baby was theirs.”

“Two months after that,” Giulia said, still reading, “the young woman took the baby for an evening walk. It was a beautiful April night. Someone clocked her on the head and took the baby. The same phone-call pattern.”

“Untraceable because the kidnappers used burn phones, no doubt,” Jimmy said.

“I’m sorry?” Giulia said.

“Prepaid disposable phones. Untraceable because the most the recipient’s carrier can do is use the nearest cell towers to triangulate the signal. All the kidnappers had to do was call from a densely populated area. A train station at rush hour, or a sports stadium during a game. By the time the police get there, even if it’s only a few minutes, the caller’s thrown away the phone and melted into the crowd.”

“Oh. I see. After that call, this couple paid the ransom, but they never saw the baby again.” She swallowed, picturing Laurel’s face as she told her story in the office.

“They got a follow-up phone call the next day,” Jimmy said, pointing to the corresponding places on his screen and the printout. “Said the baby was safe and in a God-fearing home.”

Giulia hit her hands on the desk. “I am sick of people using God to suit their own purposes.”

“I’ll keep you away from Poole when you leave.” Jimmy smiled at Giulia.

Frank turned the page as Giulia took a drink. “Here’s one similarity: birth defects. The abandoned baby had a cleft palate. The next one was born deaf.”

“Katie was born with an extra pinky finger on each hand.” Giulia snatched the paper from Frank. “Laurel said that nontraditional couples fared better adopting hard-to-place babies.”

Jimmy typed the birth defects into an open Word doc. “Good. The second kidnapping happened in Erie. Older women, already had one child from a failed marriage, wanted a second. Heard of a deaf-mute one-year-old that had already been in three foster homes. Long story short, they were approved after the child’s second birthday.”

“They snatched this baby like they did Katie,” Giulia said. “The couple paid the ransom, but this is why Laurel and Anya are so frantic.”

Frank read on, setting down his sub. “Son of a bitch.”

Jimmy said, “The little girl’s lungs were filled with water. A bathtub accident was the obvious conclusion, but there was no soap mixed with the water. It wasn’t chlorinated, either, so probably not an indoor pool.”

“Why not outdoor?” Frank said. “Right, February.”

“Here’s how she was left.” Jimmy turned his screen. A snow-covered bicycle path shelter held a tiny, blanket-wrapped bundle. Off to one side, two women in long coats clung to each other. A piece of paper pinned to the front of the blanket, its sunny yellow color garish against the bright pink blanket.

Giulia kept her voice steady as she traced her finger down her page. “What does the note say?”

“That the child is in the arms of her Heavenly Father.” Jimmy tossed his wrapper into the trash.

Frank put a hand on Giulia’s arm. “I’ll say it. Bastards.”

eight

Giulia gave Frank a
tight smile. “I notice that the kidnappers kept the money both times.”

“Of course,” Frank said. “It’s all about the money.”

She gripped her Coke till the plastic buckled. “Captain, may I have a pen?”

When she uncapped the ballpoint, she turned over the first printout. “Similarity number one: all three babies had a medical issue. The kidnappers could be working at hospitals. No. The victims lived too far apart. They could have hacked into hospital databases.”

“Across three states?” Frank said. “Keep in mind that I’m playing Devil’s Advocate in this scenario.”

“Drag yourself into the twenty-first century, Driscoll,” Jimmy said. “My neighbor’s kid hacked into the school district’s database to change his girlfriend’s GPA.”

“I’ll give you that. But this could also mean we’re dealing with three different kidnappers. A small ring, but still a ring.”

Giulia finished her sub. “That’s possible. Laurel and Anya’s contacts don’t think the police in Erie or Akron tried to connect the crimes.”

Jimmy looked at her over the monitor. “There wouldn’t be an obvious reason to. Of course, if either set of parents had disobeyed the phoned instructions and called in the FBI, their resources might have found a connection where local authorities couldn’t. And I say that as a local authority.”

“I know. The adoption assistance group did insist there was a pattern.” She folded her wrapper into a small square.

A quick knock on the door and a detective poked his head in. “I kid you not, Cap, a geezer just rammed his ’55 T-Bird into a 7-Eleven.”

“Is he hurt?” Giulia said.

“Is the T-Bird hurt?” Frank said.

“He’s okay enough to be cursing in German and kicking pieces of his bumper. The two clerks and a guy who was getting a Slurpee are trying to salvage the front displays. The T-Bird sustained minor front-end damage.”

Frank and Jimmy groaned.

“You two,” Giulia glared at each of them in turn, “need to rethink your priorities. Cars can be replaced. People can’t.”

“Vintage T-Birds cannot be replaced.” Jimmy waved the detective out. “Get the uniforms’ report and plug it into your metrics. Close the door.”

“Men.” Giulia said. She spread out the papers. “Look. All three couples use the same bank chain.”

Frank and Jimmy followed her pen as she circled the bank name three times.

“I know it’s possible to hack a bank, but it’s not easy.” Giulia tapped the pen next to one of the circles. “Laurel said that they used credit cards for most of the expenses and left their bank accounts intact. This way, when the agencies ran credit checks, they always had enough money to pay the bills.”

“Yes,” Frank said. “Meaning I agree with you and we should discount that as a possible connection.”

“You’re quick to shoot down an idea, but slow to help us look for possibilities.”

Frank raised his eyebrows. “You’re channeling Sister Mary Regina … don’t tell me …”

“Mary Regina Coelis.” Giulia bit off each word. “But you remember who won the FA Cup the past five years.”

Jimmy said, “God help us, don’t get him started on soccer. Frank, I don’t know what’s up your ass about this case, but can you get with the program here?”

“Fine.” He pulled over two printouts. All three of them studied the papers onscreen or on the desk for a few minutes.

“Hey.” Frank scooped up the rest of the printouts. “Here,” he set one aside, “here,” another, “and … yes, here it is again.” He set those three pages on top of the rest. “They all went to someplace called the Wildflower.”

“They did?” Giulia ran her index finger between the documents on the screen. “You’re right.”

“Isn’t that a resort on Raccoon Lake?” Jimmy said.

“Yes,” Giulia said. “Even though it’s less than half an hour from here, it’s very private. It’s hidden away on a cove, doesn’t advertise or anything. If you have to ask, then it’s not for you, you know?”

Frank and Jimmy looked at her.

She huffed. “It’s for gay people only. Technically for lesbians only.”

Frank whistled. “They must get lots of rubberneckers during trout season.”

“Will you be serious? I said it was secluded. Captain Reilly, may I use your computer?”

Jimmy traded chairs with her and she typed the name in a search window, then clicked on the correct link. “See? Ten-foot-high privacy fences all around, private beach, private everything.”

“People from Akron would come all this way just to stay on Raccoon Lake for a week?” Frank shook his head. “There’ve got to be resorts closer to home.”

“Not single-sex resorts. Don’t you get it? Didn’t your family ever go to a favorite vacation spot, no matter how far it was?”

Jimmy said, “My parents drove us to Hershey Park every year when we were in grade school. That was the car ride from hell. We loved the park, though.”

“Exactly. Trust me, same-sex resorts are rare enough for people to make Odyssean journeys to reach them.” Giulia shuffled the printouts. “The Akron couple was at the Wildflower six months before they got their baby in April of last year. The Erie couple went the week between Christmas and New Year’s last year, and got their daughter this past February.” She reread Laurel’s information. “Laurel and Anya went for Thanksgiving week, but that wasn’t their original plan.”

Jimmy had pulled the keyboard in front of himself and was typing almost as fast as Giulia talked. “Why did they change?”

“The baby’s mother had complications from high blood pressure, and they scheduled a C-section two weeks before her due date. Laurel and Anya had already paid for their week and wanted one last romantic getaway, just the two of them, before they became parents. The resort wasn’t full and switched their reservation. I remember, because Laurel had to scramble for coverage at the soup kitchen—it’s always packed on Thanksgiving.”

“That’s why you turned down my invite for dinner at Mom and Dad’s,” Frank said.

She nodded. “I worked Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday that week.”

Jimmy said, still typing, “It has possibilities.” He saved his document and scrolled to the pages on all three reports that mentioned the resort. “Someone could’ve traced their credit card history and pinpointed that as a good place to get to know the three couples.”

“Wait.” Giulia sagged. “A Bible-spouter isn’t going to stay at a gay resort.”

Jimmy frowned, forehead wrinkling. “It’s unlikely, I admit. However, if these kidnappers are all about getting the kids, then they might be willing to suck it up and pretend to be a couple.”

“I don’t want to sound like Frank, but not any extremist I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks,” Frank said.

Jimmy grinned. “I like you. You keep his ego in check. About—shut up, Frank—the amusing image of a Bible-thumper in a gay resort: I’ve seen them crash a Gay Pride parade in full Jesus regalia.”

Frank leaned forward. “Remember the crazy lady who broke up a PFLAG meeting screaming about defending traditional marriage?”

“The one who’d been divorced four times? She was a prize. Tried to bite me when I cuffed her, if I remember right.”

“Didn’t you dress up like her for Halloween that year?”

Frank laughed. “Your face was priceless. Anyway, we’re off track. Why do you think there are two?”

“Come on,” Jimmy said. “You’ve worked kidnapping cases. Have you ever seen a kidnapper go solo?”

“I’ll give you that one.”

Giulia poked her pen through the top paper. “That must be the connection. Should we look for religious actors? The kind that do religious plays for Advent and Easter Week?”

Frank gave her a blank look. “Why?”

“Because actors would be able to hide their feelings. Regular extremists might not.”

Jimmy tapped a finger on his mouse. “I wasn’t thinking along those lines. It’s a little far-fetched.”

Frank shook his head. “We’d better hope it’s not actors, because it’ll take forever to track down the ones who specialize in Passion Plays and the like. Let alone getting them to give us their church affiliation. I can hear complaints about Big Brother already.”

“Wait a minute.” Giulia navigated the resort’s website with the mouse. “I thought I remembered Laurel telling me something about entertainment … Here. On Friday nights after dinner, the employees put on a lip-sync and funny skit show for the guests. Laurel said it was hokey and silly, but most people got into the spirit of things.” When Frank and Jimmy stared at her, she said, “Everyone they hire must be required to have some kind of acting talent.”

They blinked, practically in unison.

“What?” Giulia gestured at the screen. “Memorizing. Practicing. Becoming someone else, even if only for three minutes at a time. In other words, pretending to be someone they’re not.”

Jimmy opened his mouth, then closed it. “All right. I’ll talk to the owner about even letting us see parts of her employee files. Subpoenaing their guest records of the resort is going to take a couple of days as it is.”

“Oh no—we don’t have a couple of days.” Giulia’s voice almost squeaked. “Where’s the timeline for the other kidnappings? Here. Day One: they take the baby and call the parents. That was two days ago. Days Two through Four: gather the ransom money. Day Five: the kidnappers call with the location for the parents to leave the ransom. Day Six: the ransom is dropped off. Day Seven is when the dead two-year-old was left, and when the call saying the first baby was with a new family.” She fixed her gaze on Jimmy. “This is already Day Three. If they decide Katie isn’t worth saving, they’ll do it in less than three days.”