Find My Baby (11 page)

“Tell me about this bar where you conveniently went to work whose matchbooks we just saw at the scene of a crime?”

Kayla told him how she’d found one in the house as she was escaping her prison.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“It seemed like such a thin lead.”

Luke let it go. Moving next to her, he put a protective arm across her stiff shoulders. “I don’t have answers right now, Kayla. But this blows the case wide open. Maybe we can backtrack their lives and find a connection that will lead us to your baby.”

The forensic team rolled into place.

Marilyn Cummings, the lead on the CSI team, took over. “You know the vic?” she asked Luke.

“No, but they match Kayla Hunter’s sketch of her and her son’s kidnappers. Other than that, I know zip.” He watched as Cummings carefully examined the bodies. “Scene look familiar?”

“Yep,” she said grimly. “Get to work. We need all the leads we can get.”

“This is the woman’s apartment,” Luke said a few minutes later. “There isn’t a thing in here for a man. No clothes, no toiletries, nothing.”

Terry pulled out a drawer, dumped the contents on the bed and rifled through them. “I agree. Have you found anything? I haven’t.”

They looked around the bedroom. “Nothing left to check except her computer. We’ll have them bag it and take it to headquarters.”

Stepping back into the living room, they found the coroner removing the bodies.

“The only thing we found was her address/phone book. We’ll have it checked out.”

“I’ll take it to the lab,” Cummings said.

“Let me know what you find,” Luke told her.

“Not a helluva lot to go on,” Terry said. “Let’s take a stroll to the management office. Maybe they can tell us something.”

Luke put an arm around Kayla’s waist; let the swift slide of desire wash over him. Did she feel it? Or was it just him? He gave her a close look. She was in shock, wasn’t aware he was there. She’d come here for answers. Ended up with two dead bodies and more questions.

At the office, the manager, her face pale, wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. We don’t normally have people die in our apartments. At least when they do, it’s from natural causes.”

“Can you tell us anything unusual that happened today concerning the tenant?” Terry asked

“Other than those two,” she pointed to Kayla and Jackie, “There was no one.”

Luke handed her a card. “If you think of anything, call me.”

“I will,” she answered, still sniffling.

“Okay, Kayla. Tell me why you didn’t wait until we got here before you went into the victim’s apartment?” Luke asked when they were in the parking lot.

“It’s my fault,” Jackie said. “I talked her into it.”

“How did you get in?” Terry asked. “Did you have a key?”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Of course I didn’t have a key.”

“Was the door unlocked?” he continued.

“Yes. It was.”

“Not very smart.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Jackie mocked. “We wanted to talk to the woman. She didn’t answer the door. It was not only unlocked, it was slightly ajar. We went in. What’s the big deal? We called you before we found the bodies.”

“And you shouldn’t have found them. You wouldn’t have if you’d waited like you were told.”

“Would you have gone in? Not without a warrant you wouldn’t. How long would that take? We wanted information that might lead to Kayla’s child.”

“That’s not how we work,” Terry reminded her. “Besides you didn’t come out until we got here.”

“It’s how I work,” she threw back at him.

Terry got in her face. “Mistake! Big one!”

“Arrest me,” Jackie snarled.

“Cut it,” Luke said. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Did you find anything that will lead us to Sam?” Kayla asked.

Three pairs of eyes turned to her.

Luke’s arm around her waist tightened. She leaned into him.

How could he tell her the truth?

Chapter Eight

Sebastian “Bear” Bailey lived to kill.

Like an addiction, one kill called for another.

And wasn’t it great to be paid for something he’d do for free?

He chuckled. The two he did yesterday were a piece of cake.

He didn’t do as well on his previous job.

Kayla Hunter had escaped.

Now, his orders were explicit. Finish the job.

Only she hadn’t retuned to her apartment, her job or school. Then she showed up on TV.

Bear pulled his rental car into a parking space at KTVZ. He’d take care of her and be back in New York on the next available flight.

To pass himself off as a prosperous businessman, he was dressed in a black designer suit, Italian loafers and a red silk tie. He’d added a dark wig and sunglasses to complete the image. If someone connected the dots, so what? He’d be in New York soon enough looking totally different and using another name.

A tall brunette, not a day over nineteen, crossed the hallway in front of him to get to her desk. Receptionist, he thought. She’d do.

Pulling out a business card, he handed it to her. “My name is Galen Donato.” She took the card. He smiled inwardly at the leap of anticipation in her eyes when she read it. “I’m here to get a little information.”

He waited a second, then added, “As you can see I’m a film producer.”

“What can I do for you?” She smiled.

“You ran a short piece yesterday about….” He pulled out a notebook, pretended to read, “A woman who didn’t give her name, but her story about her kidnapped baby interested me. It might make a great movie.”

“Oh my goodness,” the girl exclaimed.

Just as he’d intended, she was enthralled. “I think it would be exciting and moving. What do you think?”

“You’re right. I almost cried just watching Ms. Hunter do the spot.” She gave him an admiring look. “How can I help?”

He stepped back, eyed her up and down. “Have you ever acted?”

“No.” She beamed. “But I’ve always wanted to.”

“You’re the right age. You’re a brunette.” He nodded, as if he’d come to a conclusion. “I’d like you to try out for a part.”

The girl could hardly sit still.

“When?” she gasped.

“Give me your name and phone number. As soon as I nail down Ms. Hunter, I’ll give you a buzz.” Nail her down. That was a piece of irony. Once he found her, he’d nail her all right.

The girl’s fingers trembled as she carefully wrote down her information and handed it to him.

He tucked it in his pocket as if it were something precious.

“To make this happen, I’m going to need your help.”

Her eyes widened in wonder.

“Anything,” she breathed.

“I need Ms. Hunter’s address and phone number so I can contact her.”

“I’m not sure,” she stammered. “Mr. Douglas gave me her number when she first came in, just in case he wasn’t here if a call came in about her baby, but I don’t think I should give it out.”

He turned as if to leave. “Then I guess a movie on her story is out.”

“Wait,” she said.

He watched as she searched through her drawer. “Here’s her phone number. Just don’t tell her I gave it to you.”

“Do you have her address?”

Her brow wrinkled. “No. She lives with an aunt who worked for Mr. Douglas’s father and brother for years. My boss thinks very highly of her.”

Bear made a show of writing the information down before he closed his notebook. “I should be able to contact her with this information. Thanks.”

“When will I hear from you?” she asked, rising to walk him to the door.

“Soon,” he said, escaping the expectant look in her eyes by shutting the door firmly behind him.

After a little research he would be able to find the aunt.

Kayla Hunter was his.

Chapter Nine

“Kayla has a sad look about her,” Terry commented several hours later as they followed Marcie Tanner’s dark blue Mercedes.

“Her baby has been kidnapped. Of course she’s sad.”

“Don’t be so defensive. I was only making a comment.”

Luke wasn’t too far behind when Marcie’s car made a turn into the Galleria. “Shit. She’s going shopping again.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Terry complained. “Watching Marcie pick out another thousand dollar dress won’t help us figure out how she arranged to get her husband killed. And what is her connection to Kayla’s kidnapping?”

“We don’t know if there is one. Besides, Marcie is our only lead, so we go where she goes.”

“One of these days, the Tanner widow is going to snap that not one, but two of the same faces are showing up in all the wrong places,” Terry said.

“Nothing we can do about it.”

Luke kept a good distance between his vehicle and the Mercedes as he followed her down the ramp to the underground Galleria garage. She pulled into a parking space, but instead of getting out, sat there. Luke found a space several cars down, two lanes over, and watched.

“What’s she up to? This isn’t like her.”

“Whoa! Look at what’s going down.” Terry said, as a small yellow Volkswagen Beetle pulled up in back of her car and a young man stepped out. Marcie got out of her Mercedes, looked around and headed toward him.

“What’s this? A lover? If so, he’s quite young. Marcie’s hitting forty. This guy can’t be over nineteen.”

“What do they say about older women and younger men?” Terry chuckled.

“Get the camera, Ter. Let’s see where this is going.”

Terry shot several pictures as Marcie Tanner met with the young man.

But the two didn’t so much as shake hands. Instead, Marcie handed him a small package wrapped in brown mailing paper. The kid signed what looked like a receipt; handed it to her. She tucked it in her slacks pocket, returned to her car and left.

“Looks like a shoe box,” Terry said, snapping pictures until both cars left the garage.

“But what’s in it?” Luke said. “No point in following Marcie. Her errand for the day is over. The Beetle is another story.”

He kept an eye on Marcie’s car as it turned right instead of left as the Beetle had. “Maybe this is the break we’ve been waiting for,” Luke mumbled, following the Beetle.

When the Beetle pulled into another parking garage a mile west of the Galleria, Luke was right behind him.

“Okay, who looks the least like a cop?” Luke asked, as the kid got out of the Beetle, the package tucked under his arm. Head down, he headed into the building. Without waiting for an answer, Luke jumped out of the car, patted his shoulder holster. Not all buildings had sensors and hoped this was one of them. He didn’t go anywhere without his gun.

“Careful,” Terry called after him.

Luke waved and followed the courier inside.

No sensors. Good.

When the young man entered the elevator carrying the package Marcie gave him, Luke was standing next to him.

Although they didn’t actually look at one another, Luke took a quick mental snapshot of the guy; crew cut dark hair, pimples on his chin, faded jeans, a wrinkled black T-shirt shouting Go Texans, and worn sneakers.

The courier punched four. Luke reached over and did the same, took a quick look at the box under the guy’s arm.

When the courier got out, Luke followed, slowing in front of one of the offices to watch the courier go into a door down the hall. Seconds later he came out minus the package, another receipt in his hands.

They exchanged bland, meaningless smiles as they passed.

When the elevator doors closed. Luke stepped into the office the courier walked out of.

The sign on the door read JEWELERS - GEMOLOGIST.

Hot Damn! If the stolen jewelry wasn’t in that package, Luke would turn in his badge.

“Can I help you?” A young woman came toward him with a practiced smile.

He gave the small space a quick appraisal. Under well-placed lighting, a glass case held a variety of sparkling jewelry. On top of the case sat the brown paper wrapped package. About six feet behind the case, another room was blocked off, probably a workroom. From the back, male voices.

He tried not to stare at the package, instead went to the counter, looked at the jewelry and pretended interest.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” the woman asked.

“An engagement ring,” Luke said. “But this stuff looks way too rich for my pocketbook.”

A man came out of the back. “We have some pretty good deals. Why don’t you make a few selections?”

Luke gave him a cop’s once-over. He looked successful, dressed in Italian loafers and a Brooks Brothers suit that cost three times more than Luke’s monthly car note.

He shrugged. “Okay, let’s see a couple.”

Another man, dressed the same as the first, stepped out of the back room and joined them. Business must be good.

“Is this it?” The second man turned to the clerk.

“Just came in, Mr. Vogel. Is Mr. Graham coming down?”

Vogel glared at her, grabbed the package. “Take care of your customer.”

“Yes sir.” She turned back to Luke. “Tell me your price range and I’ll show you what we have.”

Vogel and Graham, two new names. Neither of which came up in their investigation. Luke had to cut the bullshit and get on the phone to headquarters.

The clerk was busy rattling off carats and dollars, but Luke wasn’t listening. “It’s all too confusing. I’ll bring my fiancé in and have her make her own selection.”

Kayla’s face came to mind making him smile.

The clerk put away the display box. “We’re open till six five days a week.”

Luke backed out the door and ran to the elevator. When he stepped out, he turned toward the building directory.

“There he is,” he muttered when he saw the name the clerk had mentioned. George Graham, Attorney-At-Law.

Memorizing the suite number, Luke headed out of the building.

Interesting. The supposed stolen jewels could be in the box he followed upstairs and payment for murder. But what was George Graham’s part in this?

The case was getting interesting, he thought as he climbed into the SUV.

“What did you find?” Terry asked

Luke told him what he’d seen and what he suspected. “Call for a warrant. We need to know what’s in that package. This could be the big break.”

Terry placed the call. “They’ll get back with us. Wanna see what Graham looks like?”