5
Hey . . . just saw your email. What’s this about a pretexting gig?” Nikki stuck her head in Connor’s office, mug in hand.
He waved her into a chair. “You up for it?”
“Always.” She sat. “Does this involve your new client?”
“Yep.”
“You found something at the mall yesterday?”
“Not much. But before I let this go, I want to follow up on every possible lead.” He brought her up to speed on the case. “Unfortunately, there was nothing in the security camera feeds to ID the boy or the man. However, I did spot them coming out of the Build-A-Bear store. No bag in hand, so I’m assuming they didn’t make a purchase, but it’s possible a clerk might remember them. If we can find someone who was there last Friday, and if you chat her up, maybe she’ll pass on a piece of information that might be helpful.”
Nikki crossed her legs. “That’s a lot of it’s possibles, ifs, maybes, and might bes.”
Like he didn’t know that.
“It’s all I’ve got. If I come up blank here, the case is over.”
“No pressure there.” She took a sip of her tea. “What does the little boy look like?”
He pulled the screen grab out of the folder and handed it over.
“Cute kid.”
“I never got a decent view of the father, but he was wearing a red Cardinals baseball cap, T-shirt, and jeans. Based on his build, my guess is he either works out or has a manual labor job.”
She nodded and set the printout on the desk. “What kind of pretext did you have in mind?”
“How about this—your husband took your son to their store Friday, and somewhere in the mall your little boy managed to lose his backpack. You’re hoping it’s at Build-A-Bear.”
“The mother act, huh? Might work. And not bad practice, either.” She delivered the last line looking straight at him, her eyes twinkling.
It took a second for her meaning to register, and when it did, he grinned. “You’re pregnant.”
“Give the man a gold star.”
“That’s great, Nikki.” If anyone deserved a happy domestic life, it was the woman across from him. Maybe this would help make up for her own abusive childhood and fractured family. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. Me too.”
“Did you tell Cal and Dev yet?”
“I shared the news with Cal yesterday. I’ll get to Dev sometime today. So back to the matter at hand . . . I’ll give it a try. You do realize, though, that this is probably going to be an exercise in futility. There’s a steady parade of kids in and out of a store like that. There’s not much chance a busy clerk will remember one in particular.”
“Yeah. But it’s worth a call at least. Let me close the door, then I’ll put the phone on speaker.”
“I’ve got it.” She rose and crossed toward the hall. “You dial.”
Connor tapped in the number, worked his way through the automated menu, pressed zero for a live person, and leaned back in his chair as Nikki took her own seat.
“West County Center Build-A-Bear. This is Carolyn. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Carolyn. I may be on a wild-goose chase, but I’m trying to track down a Spiderman backpack my son left somewhere at the mall on Friday.” Nikki’s tone was conversational, friendly, chatty. Perfect. “He and my husband were in your store around lunchtime, and I wondered if he might have forgotten it there.”
“I didn’t work Friday, but I’ll be happy to check our lost and found.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
As she sipped her tea, Connor throttled back the urge to offer advice about how to proceed when the woman came back with a negative report. Nikki’s instincts and her ability to think on her feet were solid, and she’d never let him down on one of these playacting assignments. No reason to think she’d start now.
“Are you still there, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry . . . I’m not seeing any backpacks. Have you talked to the main lost and found for the mall?”
“Not yet. I thought it might be easier to begin with a place I knew they visited.” She let out a protracted sigh that would be clearly audible on the other end of the line. “Is there, by chance, someone working today who was on duty Friday? I know it’s a long shot, but if there is, maybe she noticed whether he had the backpack with him when he came into the store. It might help me get a better handle on when and where he lost it.”
“Well . . . I think Rachel might have been here. Can you hold another minute?”
“Sure.”
Connor gave Nikki a thumbs-up and mouthed “way to go.” Talking to someone who’d been on duty Friday had been the whole point, and she’d maneuvered herself there smoothly.
Thirty seconds later, another woman’s voice spoke. “This is Rachel. May I help you?”
“Hi, Rachel.” Nikki replayed her script. “So I’m wondering if you might remember seeing him, and perhaps noticing whether he had his backpack with him while he was in the store. I hate to bother you with this, but the backpack was brand-new and my husband is so not into noticing details like whether my son has all his stuff with him—or wears matching socks. I didn’t even realize it was gone until today.”
The other woman laughed. Masterful. Nikki could build rapport even faster than she came up with zingers to lob at Dev.
“I hear you. I don’t know if I can help, but maybe if you describe your son, it might ring some bells.”
Nikki picked up the printout. “He’s almost seven. Blond. On the slight side. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt. And my husband was wearing a Cardinals baseball cap.”
“I’m sorry . . . that’s not triggering anything. We were overrun with kids Friday—two birthday parties. Was he at one of those?”
Nikki darted him a quick glance. “Yes, he was.”
“Was it the Garber party? That was around noon.”
He grabbed his pen and jotted down the name.
“Yes.”
“I helped at that one . . . and now that I think about it, there was a blond boy in the group. I noticed him because he was on the quiet side. You know, you might want to call the mother who hosted the party. If your son had his backpack with him when he arrived, one of the other kids could have picked it up by mistake.”
“I’ll do that. The last name was G-a-r-b-e-r, correct? I threw away the invitation and I don’t know all the parents from daycare.”
“Hold a sec.” Silence on the line, followed by the clack of keys. “Yes. That’s the correct spelling. Linda Garber.”
Connor wrote down the first name.
“Perfect. Thanks so much for your help.”
“No problem. I hope you find it.”
Connor killed the connection. “Nice work.”
She shook her head. “Don’t get your hopes up. There’s no guarantee she had the right kid in mind. Lots of little boys are blond. And didn’t you say neither the man or boy was carrying a shopping bag?”
“That’s right.”
“Most of the time at those parties the kids build a bear and take it home with them.”
That wasn’t the best news he’d heard all day. Perhaps the duo had stopped in simply to window-shop after all.
He frowned and tapped his pen against the notepad. “There could be some reason the boy didn’t have it in hand.” Nikki’s skeptical expression suggested the odds of that were slim, but already he was turning over next-step scenarios. “I’ll give this a little more thought before I call Kate.”
Nikki rose and moved to the door. Stopped. Angled toward him. “For what it’s worth, your new client didn’t strike me as the type who overreacts. It might not hurt to make a few phone calls. How many Garbers can there be in the phone book?”
“I was already thinking along those lines.”
“I figured you were. You want me to peruse the phone listings while you and Cal are at the executive security meeting this morning? I could make a few preliminary calls, see if I can find the right Garber.”
“Do you have time?”
“I’ll have to push Dev’s filing down on my to-do list, but that’s no hardship.”
“Then give it a shot.”
As she exited, he leaned back in his chair, rolling his pen between his fingers. Maybe they’d hit pay dirt with one of the Garbers . . . but that was a big maybe.
Meaning much as he wanted to help Kate, if this didn’t pan out, they were at the end of the road.
“Hey, Dad, I got my bear today! Lindsey’s mom finally remembered to bring it.”
At Todd’s exuberant greeting, Greg took his son’s hand and looked down at the Build-A-Bear shopping bag as they exited the daycare facility.
The thing turned his stomach.
Who could have fathomed a simple, innocent kid’s birthday party would shake the foundation of his world?
“You want to see it?” Todd beamed up at him.
“Sure. But let’s get in the truck first.”
Sixty seconds later, as his son buckled himself into the car seat, Greg circled around, slid behind the wheel—and took a calming breath. Things could have turned out worse. If Linda Garber had been taking her daughter back to daycare after the party instead of heading home to pack for vacation, Todd wouldn’t have needed to be picked up. Instead, he’d have been with Linda and Lindsey. What if Kate had spotted him then—and approached Linda?
He suppressed a shudder.
Using his brief lunch hour to rush to the mall to pick up Todd may not have been convenient—but in the end, it had averted disaster.
He hoped.
“Whaddaya think, Dad?”
Resting an elbow on the back of his seat, Greg angled sideways and studied the bear, which sported a Cardinals baseball uniform and cap. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Yeah.” Todd tucked the bear next to him. “I wish I could have taken it with me the day of the party.”
“But it was thoughtful of Mrs. Garber to offer to go back to the mall and pick it up after the lady at the shop found that ripped seam.” Greg shifted around to face front, put the pickup in gear, and pulled away from the daycare center.
A few seconds of silence passed. “Do you think we might go back to that mall sometime too?”
A thrum of tension began to pulsate in his temples. “Why?”
“If we did, I might see that lady from the escalator again.”
Five days, and still Todd wasn’t letting the incident go.
“There’s not much chance of that. It’s a big place, and lots of people go there every day.”
“Yeah.” The car grew silent again, and Greg could almost hear the gears turning in his son’s head. “Do you think I might have known her when I was a baby? Before I was adopted?”
His gut twisted. “You would have been too little to remember that far back, champ.”
“I guess.”
But he didn’t sound convinced.
Not for the first time, Greg wondered if he’d made a mistake telling Todd he was adopted. After a lot of deliberation, though, it had seemed the safest choice on the off chance he ever ran into anyone from his old life who knew his history.
But he’d never expected to run into someone who knew Todd’s history.
“I wish I had a mom.”
At the forlorn comment, Greg tightened his grip on the wheel and merged onto the highway, heading toward the rental house they now called home—and regretting anew the day he’d decided it was finally safe to leave Montana.
“I wish you did too, champ.” His throat tightened, and he forced himself to inhale. Even after five years, the pain of Jen’s loss could overwhelm him.
“If you got married again, I’d have a mom, right?”
“Yeah. But we just moved here, and we need to settle in before we make any more big changes in our lives.” Sweat beaded above his upper lip, and he tried to amp up the air conditioner. No go. It was already running at full blast.
But it sure didn’t feel like it.
“I like Diane. She’s nice.”
At his son’s hopeful tone, Greg pried his fingers off the wheel and flexed them to get the blood flowing again. It wasn’t difficult to follow the youngster’s train of thought. “Yes, she is.”
“How come we didn’t have pizza with her last Saturday, like we usually do?”
“I told you already. My stomach was upset.”
“Is it better now?”
Hardly.
“It’s getting there.”
“So are we going to have pizza with her this Saturday?”
A police cruiser loomed ahead, watching from the shoulder for speeders. He eased back on the accelerator. The last thing he needed was a run-in with the cops.
“Dad? Are we?”
That had been the plan. Now he wasn’t certain.
“I don’t know yet.”
“How come?”
“Look, let it go, Todd. I had a long day and I’m tired. We’ll talk about it later.” He hadn’t planned to raise his voice. Or sound aggravated. But that’s the way the comment came out.
Silence from the backseat.
He flicked a glance into the rearview mirror. Todd had picked up his Cardinals bear and was hugging him close, his face scrunched. Like he was going to cry.
Greg bit back an oath. All these years, he’d never once spoken to Todd in anger. He’d cherished him and nurtured him and had never, ever been unkind, even when administering necessary discipline. He treasured his son too much to ever hurt him.
But now, thanks to the stupid fluke in the mall that had put him on edge, he was taking out his fear on his child.
And that was plain wrong.
“Hey.” He gentled his voice and waited for Todd to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Sorry about that, champ. I guess I’m not used to this heat yet, and it can make me cranky. We’ll get back to our pizza routine real soon, I promise. How does that sound?”
“Fine.” At the tremulous response, Greg wished he could pull over and give his son a reassuring hug. Not going to happen during rush hour on I-270, though, so he did the next best thing. “I love you. You never forget that, okay?”
“Okay.” Todd sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his T-shirt. Usually that drew a correction, but this time Greg let it pass. “I love you too.”
The beautiful words were like balm on his soul, and the taut line of his shoulders relaxed.
Until Todd spoke again a few minutes later in a quiet, wistful tone that sent another wave of uneasiness crashing over him. “I bet that lady on the escalator is a good mom.”
Greg didn’t respond.
Instead, he once again squeezed the wheel and kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Wishing he could wipe out the past. Wishing he could pray for help.
But God wouldn’t listen to the likes of him. Not anymore. He only welcomed back repentant sinners.
All he could do was hope Todd’s obsession would diminish soon and that life would get back to normal.
Whatever that was these days.
As Connor tossed his suit jacket onto a chair in his office and went in search of a piece of the coffee cake Nikki had brought in yesterday, her voice wafted down the hall.
“Pregnant women aren’t supposed to lift heavy stuff.”
When that pronouncement was followed by a fit of coughing, his lips tipped up.
Dev had just gotten the big news.
Ignoring the growls in his stomach, he detoured toward his partner’s office and propped a shoulder against the doorway. Dev had sprayed soda all over the files scattered on his desk and was still hacking as Nikki shoved a fistful of paper napkins at him.
“You need me to do the Heimlich maneuver?” Connor tried to rein in his grin.
Dev waved his question aside and focused on Nikki. “You’re pregnant?”
“It happens.”
“Did you know about this?” Dev looked his way and swiped at the soda-speckled folders on his desk with the wad of napkins.
“I found out this morning before Cal and I left for the meeting on that executive security gig—which ran very long, by the way. I hope you left some of that coffee cake in the kitchen. I’m starving.”
Dev ignored that comment.
Not a positive sign.
After one final hack, his partner eyed Nikki. “So . . . are you doing okay? Everything’s good?”
“Everything’s great. And I was just kidding about lifting your files.”
She bent to pick up a stack from the corner of his office, but before she touched them, Dev sprang out of his chair and raced around his desk. “Wait! I’ll get them.”
“I can do it.” She grabbed the files and rose. “I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.”
He tugged the files away from her. “Fine. But I’m here now. Where do you want these?”
She cocked her head. Shrugged. “On my desk. I need to go through them and identify the contents since you never bother to label the new stuff.”
For once, Dev let the dig pass and exited in silence.
As he disappeared out the door to the reception area, Nikki winked at Connor and dropped her voice. “This could be fun.”
He chuckled. “You’re bad.”
“Aren’t I, though? But I’m good in other ways. Like digging for information.” She handed him the slip of paper in her hand. “There were fifteen Garbers in the phone book. That’s Linda’s number. I was getting ready to put it on your desk.”
A quick scan told him it was a Kirkwood-area exchange. Probably not far from their offices. “What was your pretext?”
“Build-A-Bear follow-up to verify she was satisfied with her birthday party. There were eight children at the event, three boys and five girls. The majority of them were daycare friends of her daughter, Lindsey, who’s enrolled at STL Academy all day in the summer and for aftercare during the school year. She’ll be in first grade this fall, and she dressed her bear in a pink tutu.”
Connor stared at her. “How did you manage to get all that information?”
“Like I said, I’m good. Remember that when raise time comes around.” She sent him a pointed look. “And don’t get your hopes up about the coffee cake. Dev scarfed down the last piece about an hour ago.”
As she started down the hall, the guilty party pushed through from the front—and held the door open for her.
Connor’s eyebrows rose. That was a first. Meaning interesting—and entertaining—times should be ahead.
As for the latest information Nikki had unearthed—that, too, suggested interesting possibilities. If the blond boy the Build-A-Bear clerk had mentioned happened to be the same one Kate had seen, there was a better-than-average chance he attended STL. And if surveillance verified that, finding his last name would get a whole lot easier. It could be as simple as running the plate on the car that picked him up.
Beyond that . . . things could get trickier.
But for now, he had a positive development to share with Kate.
“Big news, huh?” Dev paused outside his office.
It took a second for Connor to realize he meant Nikki news, not case news. “Yeah.”
“Hard to picture, though. Nikki with a baby . . .” Dev shook his head.
“She’s had plenty of practice being a mother since she rescued her brother from that den of iniquity she grew up in and gave him a real home.”
“True. But a baby . . . that’s a whole different ball game.”
“I have no doubt she’s up to the challenge.”
“Yeah. She does handle difficult situations—and people—well.” One side of Dev’s mouth hitched up. “Speaking of challenges . . . how goes the boy-returned-from-the-dead case?”
Connor waved the slip of paper. “I have a lead.”
“No kidding? I assumed that was dead in the water . . . forgive the less-than-tasteful pun.”
“I can forgive the pun. Eating the last of the coffee cake . . . not so much. That was going to be my lunch.”
“At four o’clock?”
“The two-hour meeting ran five hours. The CEO’s been getting death threats in the wake of recent union negotiations and wants to beef up in-house security for an upcoming trip to some of his facilities. Get ready to clear your calendar in mid-August. It’s going to be a three-man job. As for my case—it isn’t dead yet. I’ll fill you in as soon as I know more. In the meantime, I need to update my client.”
“Not exactly hardship duty . . . especially if you do it in person.” Dev elbowed him as he brushed by into his office.
Connor let the jibe pass—because he agreed. Too bad this was business that could be handled over the phone. Would be handled over the phone with any other client. So to keep things professional, he’d deliver the update from his desk.
On the bright side, however, if things progressed on this case, there’d be plenty of opportunities to see Kate again.
And if they hit a dead end . . . maybe he’d find a reason to see her, anyway.
Kate closed the notebook on her lap, capped her pen, and smiled at the young woman seated across from her in the role-play corner of her office. “You did great, Sarah. Excellent eye contact, positive body language and facial expressions, and articulate answers. You’ve been practicing.”
“Every day.” Sarah Lange started to tuck her hair behind her ear, caught herself, and rested her elbows on the arms of her chair instead, keeping her posture relaxed and open. “I’m trying to pay attention to every detail. I want this job.”
“I know.” And not just for the money. After years of putting up with abuse from the husband she’d finally divorced, she could also use an infusion of self-esteem. “I think you have an excellent chance of getting it too. You’ve come a long way in the past eight weeks, and you have all the right qualifications.”
“I’m not aiming too high, am I?” The words were laced with trepidation.
“Absolutely not.” Kate kept her tone gentle but firm. “Art history might not be the most marketable college degree, but you’ve been a docent at the art museum for two years and you were the office manager for an art supply business.”
“The art museum was a volunteer job, and the manager position was a long time ago.” She lowered her voice and glanced at the four-year-old cherub playing with her doll in the opposite corner of the office. “Before . . . Steve.”
At least she didn’t flinch when she said his name anymore. Now, an undercurrent of anger colored the words. Better than fear, but she still had a ways to go. As did her too-silent daughter.
“Volunteer work counts, and you have outstanding references from both the art museum and your previous job, even though that was eight years ago. The gallery manager would be lucky to get you as his administrative assistant.” Kate had said all those things before, but with Sarah’s interview scheduled for nine tomorrow morning, it couldn’t hurt to repeat them again as a confidence booster.
“I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. You not only coached me through all these practice interviews, you also polished up my résumé and found me this great lead. I just hope it works out.”
“I have every confidence it will.”
Sarah stood and reached for her purse. “Thanks again for squeezing me in for an emergency session today. I’m sorry I kept you so late.”
“No worries. I’m often here far later than this.” Kate rose, and while Sarah collected her belongings, she crossed to the little girl and dropped down beside her. “I like your dolly’s dress today, Isabel. Yellow is such a happy color. It reminds me of sunshine.”
The girl looked up at her with wide eyes that had seen too much, her expression solemn. “I had a yellow dress once too. But it got torn, and my daddy threw it away.”
Kate’s throat constricted. Thank God Sarah had sought counseling for both of them.
“Come on, honey. It’s time for dinner. Why don’t we stop at Panera and you can get some of that macaroni and cheese you love? How does that sound?”
The girl’s face brightened as she took Sarah’s hand, but an undercurrent of apprehension colored her words. “Will you stay with me, Mommy?”
“Of course.” Sarah sent Kate a worried look as she hugged her daughter.
Kate gave her client’s arm a reassuring squeeze, a silent reminder that the clinginess would pass and counseling would help. But it would require patience. Damage to the psyche often took far longer to heal than damage to the body. She’d learned that in school, saw it demonstrated every day in the clients she served, and had experienced it firsthand. Loss, abuse, fear, anger, grief—they all took a heavy toll.
She followed the mother and daughter to the door. At six o’clock, the small suite was silent, the staff and volunteers gone, the individual offices dark. “Will you call me as soon as the interview is over?”
“The minute I walk out the door.” Sarah held out her hand. “And no matter what happens with this job, thank you for making me feel competent, capable, and respected again.”
“You’re all those things . . . and more. Now you two have a nice dinner—and make time for some hugs tonight.”
She watched them walk away hand in hand, then shut the door and wandered back to her office. It was late, but why hurry to leave? It wasn’t as if she had anything exciting planned for the evening. Review some budget paperwork. Prep for another role-play tomorrow. Finish the presentation on New Start she’d be delivering on Friday at a women’s club luncheon. There were no hugs on her agenda.
Fighting back a wave of melancholy, she straightened her shoulders, pulled her purse out of her desk drawer, retrieved her keys, and fished for her cell. She was through with pity parties. Once had been enough.
Cell in hand, she scrolled through voice mail. Only one new message, from four-ten. Not long after she’d started her session with Sarah.
She keyed in her access code and pressed the phone to her ear.
“Kate, Connor Sullivan. I have some news. Give me a call on my cell when you have a minute.” He recited the number, and she grabbed a pen to jot it down.
The line clicked, and she took a steadying breath. Telling herself not to get her hopes up, she tapped in his number.
He answered on the first ring. “Sullivan.”
Her respiration ticked up. “This is Kate Marshall. Sorry for the after-hours call, but I just got out of a meeting and found your message. It sounded promising.”
“Promising might be a little too optimistic, but I do have a new lead.”
As he filled her in on the latest developments, Kate’s spirits rose—and even his final warning that they could still hit a dead end didn’t deflate them.
“So what’s next?”
“Surveillance. My plan is to watch the daycare center tomorrow during the morning drop-off period and hope I spot the boy from the mall security screen grab.”
“I thought you said the image was fuzzy?”
“It is. Those kinds of shots usually are. But it’s clear enough to get me in the ballpark, and I’ll take photos of any boys who look similar. We can sort through them later and see if we have a match.”
“Would it help if I went along? I might be able to rule some out immediately.” Even as she made the offer, Kate’s brow puckered. Where on earth had that come from?
Based on the silence on the other end of the line, Connor was trying to figure out the same thing.
Her cheeks warmed, and she lightened her tone in an attempt to smooth over the awkward moment. “Sorry. I’m sure the last thing you want is an amateur hanging around while you’re trying to do your work.”
“Actually, your offer has some merit.” He spoke slowly, as if he was mulling over the idea. “As our office manager reminded me, a lot of young boys are blond. Having someone along who saw the child in person could make the process more efficient. But it would be an early start. The daycare opens for drop-off at six. I plan to be in a discreet position nearby no later than five-forty-five and hang around until nine.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m an early riser, and I can come to the office late tomorrow. My first meeting isn’t until ten.”
“Then why don’t I pick you up at five-thirty in the parking lot at your office? When we’re finished, I can drop you off back there.”
“Sounds good.”
“Two pieces of advice. First, dress casual and cool. I can’t leave the engine and air conditioner running the whole time or the car will overheat. Second, don’t drink much before you leave your house. Once we’re in place, we’ll be in the car for the duration. We could miss the boy if we have to make an emergency bathroom run.”
“Got it.”
“Turn in early, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
When the phone went dead, Kate dropped it in her purse and stood. Connor was right. Since she’d have to be up by quarter to five, she needed to head home, fix a quick dinner, and go to bed with the sun.
But as she exited the New Start offices, she had a feeling sleep was going to be elusive. Because while Connor had accomplished more than she’d even dared hope when she’d sat in his office on Monday and poured out her bizarre story, they were reaching the end of the line. If this lead didn’t pan out, she’d be back where she’d been on Friday.
Wondering about the identity of the little blond boy who looked enough like Kevin to be her son.