Fertile Ground (46 page)

She went for a brisk walk. When she returned she learned that Curtis Rhodes had called. She phoned him back; he told her the attorney had advised Paula that the family was contesting the will and would ask that DNA testing be done on Andy.

More bad news for Paula. “How did she react?” Lisa asked.

“He said she was very calm, very polite. Then again, she’s a good actress. She told him that although she couldn’t stop us from contesting the will, she has no intention of subjecting Andy to any maternity tests, since it’s a matter of record that she gave birth to him.”

“At least you put her on notice. I stopped by late this morning and dropped off a monitor. She knows that I know.” “That’s good. Then the baby’s safe.”

“I’m not sure. She’s leaving tonight with Andy to visit her parents. She’s staying indefinitely—she says there’s nothing to keep her here now that her husband is gone.”

In Alabama, would the monitor malfunction? Or would Andy have a fatal accident? Apprehension gnawed at her. She said good-bye to Curtis and phoned the police station. Miraculously, Barone was there.

“There’s nothing I can do,” he said after she informed him Paula was leaving town. “Let’s hope we locate Mrs. Fenton soon.”

“Paula’s leaving tonight.”

“I’m not happy about that, either.” He sounded annoyed. ‘ “If we find Mrs. Fenton after Mrs. Rhodes leaves, and she verifies what you’ve told me, I’ll personally fly to Alabama and bring Mrs. Rhodes and the child back. All right?”

“All right.” She hung up the phone and paced around the apartment. Fifteen minutes later she called the station again and waited impatiently for Barone to get on the line.

“I’m sorry to bother you. Detective, but—”

“Dr. Brockman, I know you’re concerned, but I can’t get much done if you call every five minutes.” His tone was clipped, terse.

“What if she’s leaving the country? She has to be worried that her brother’s going to be arrested any day. If he implicates her in the murders, she can kiss the money good-bye, in which case she doesn’t need the baby. She’ll disappear, and no one will ever find her.” If she was

leaving the country, she wouldn’t take Andy—he’d be an encumbrance, a risk.

“Dr. Brockman—”

“Can you check with the airlines to see where she’s going?” Lisa had heard the weary impatience in his voice. “You must be angry with me. I’d resent anyone who tried to tell me how to do my job. But I feel so frustrated. Detective.”

“I was trying to say I’ve already phoned two airlines. It occurred to me, too, that she might not be going to Alabama.”

“I’m sorry.” Her face was hot with embarrassment.

“I’ll call you if I hear anything.”

Sam phoned. He had a Talmud class to attend at eight but offered to take her out for a quick pizza dinner—“A cheap first date, but what do you want from an unemployed fertility specialist?” She wanted to go. She wanted to wait for Barone’s call. She said no to the pizza but invited him to come over after the Talmud class, and fixed herself a salad and an English muffin, which she ate while she worked on the crossword puzzle.

She couldn’t stay in the apartment, willing the phone to ring. She drove to the Ralphs on Overland to buy groceries she didn’t really need and was standing in the checkout line when her pager beeped.

It was Barone.

Feeling conspicuously showy, she called him on her cellular phone, but of course no one paid attention, because L.A.” and probably the whole country, was filled with people who used cell phones. She was so nervous while she waited for the detective to come on the line that she didn’t hear what the young man bagging her groceries said, and had to ask him to repeat his question.

“Paper or plastic, ma’am?”

“Plastic,” she said and heard Barone’s voice, low and musical:

“She’s booked on a flight to Alabama at ten-forty tonight.”

“Oh.” One part disappointment, two parts relief.

“She’s also booked in first class on a United Airlines

eleven forty-five p.m. nonstop flight to Mexico City.”

Lisa held her breath. “With the baby?”

“Just one ticket, in her name. One way. She doesn’t have to buy the baby a ticket—airlines block seats for children under two, unless the flight is sold out. Which it isn’t. But she hasn’t informed the airline that she’s bringing an infant.”

Lisa checked her watch. It was almost nine-thirty. “How will you stop her?”

A limo was parked behind the Jaguar. From across the street Lisa watched the uniformed driver place two suitcases in the trunk.

A few minutes later she saw Paula coming out the front door. She was wearing dark slacks and a blazer; a large satchel was slung over her shoulder.

The driver opened the left passenger door and helped Paula in, then shut the door and got behind the wheel. In a moment he backed out of the driveway and, facing Santa Monica Boulevard, pulled away from the house.

When the limo was halfway down the block. Lisa heard a siren and saw a car with a flashing domed red light cut the limo off. Barone’s unmarked car.

Almost simultaneously, a patrol car arrived and parked in front of Paula’s house; two uniformed police—one male, one female—walked to the front door and rang the bell.

Berta answered. Lisa could see that the maid was talking to the police but had no idea what Berta was saying. After several minutes she saw the limo turn around, followed by Barone. The limo pulled into the driveway. Bar one blocked it with his car.

Barone and another plainclothes male detective got out of the car. While Barone went over to the passenger door

of the limo, the other detective approached the driver. The limo’s rear lights turned off.

Lisa knew that Barone would probably kill her, but she found it impossible to remain in her Altima. As quietly as she could, she got out of her car, crossed the street, and stood to the right side of the house, where she hoped she’d be inconspicuous.

The two uniformed police disappeared into the house. A few minutes later the male returned and approached Barone. Lisa could hear them talking but was too far away to make out what they were saying. She moved closer.

“… infant is upstairs, asleep. Detective.”

“Aside from the maid, is there anyone else in the house?”

“No.”

Barone turned and leaned toward the open passenger window. “Mrs. Rhodes, leave your purse on the seat and get out of the car slowly. Have your hands where I can see them.”

Paula must have responded, but Lisa couldn’t hear.

Barone repeated his instructions. The door opened and Paula emerged.

“Would you care to explain what the hell is going on?” she demanded coolly. “Why are you treating me as if I’m a criminal?”

“Mrs. Rhodes, where were you going when I detained you?”

“I don’t see why that’s any of your business. Detective.”

“Mrs. Rhodes, you can cooperate or not.” Quiet, unhurried. “If you don’t, the limo driver can provide us with the answer. So I’ll ask you again, where were you going? And I hope you won’t say to the market.”

“To the airport.” She was almost spitting the words.

“What was your planned destination?”

She hesitated, then said, “Alabama. I’m visiting my parents.”

“How long are you planning to be away?”

“I’m not sure. A few days, maybe longer.”

“When we spoke a few days ago, you mentioned you have an infant son. Who’s taking care of him while you’re away?”

Even from where Lisa was standing she could see Paula’s suddenly tense expression.

“I have a nanny coming in the morning to take care of him. In the meantime, my housekeeper is watching him.”

“Are you referring to Berta Gonzalez?”

“Yes. She’s wonderful with him.”

“She doesn’t speak any English, isn’t that true?”

Another hesitation. “No, but she doesn’t need to speak English to diaper or feed or bathe him.”

“What if there were an emergency? You mentioned to Dr. Lisa Brockman that you’re concerned about your baby’s breathing, about the possibility that he might die from SIDS. I find it extremely strange that, under those circumstances, you’d leave him in the care of a woman who doesn’t speak English.” “Andy’s been better the past few days. And Dr. Brockman was kind enough to drop off a monitor to protect him.”

“Yes, but it’s not attached to him. Officer Volansky checked. Your son is sleeping without the monitor, which is downstairs in the living room.”

She pursed her lips.

Barone reached into the limo and pulled out her purse. He opened it and removed a slim envelope. The airline ticket. Lisa guessed.

He said, “This is a one-way ticket to Mexico City, Mrs. Rhodes. I guess your travel agent goofed.”

She cleared her throat. “Look, I lied about Alabama because this isn’t really any of your business. I’m just going to Mexico for two days to relax. I’ve been under a great deal of stress lately. My doctor recommended a break.”

“This ticket is one-way.”

“That’s because I’m not exactly sure when I’m returning.” She reached for the ticket.

He moved it away. “Very extravagant, Mrs. Rhodes.

Buying two one-way tickets is far more expensive than buying a round-trip and making a change.”

Her smile was patronizing, aloof. “Money isn’t one of my concerns. Detective. My husband left me well provided for.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. What’s the name and phone number of the nanny you hired?”

Her smile froze. “She’s with an agency, but I don’t know the number offhand. I’d have to look it up.”

“I’ll have Officer Volansky bring the phone directory.”

“I don’t know that it’s listed. I got the number from a friend who happens to be out of town now.”

“Didn’t you write the number down for your housekeeper? Didn’t you write it down for yourself?” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Mrs. Rhodes, where’s Dr. Gordon’s body?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She was standing very straight now.

“You remember Dr. Gordon. He fertilized a number of Chelsea Wright’s eggs with your late husband’s sperm and transferred the embryos into your body. That’s how you conceived your son.”

Paula shook her head. “You’ve been talking to Dr. Brockman, haven’t you? I feel terribly sorry for her, but she’s delusional. I have no idea how she came up with this outrageous story.”

“She came up with it from the person who will testify that Chelsea forced her to reveal your identity. The same person who revealed your identity to Dr. Cantrell and made him a threat to you.”

Lisa’s breathing quickened. Had Barone located Grace? Or was he bluffing?

“What person?” Paula asked.

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Paula’s voice hardened. “You don’t have a witness, because this never happened. Detective, I’m not answering any more questions. I’m going to ask you to leave now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Mrs. Rhodes, you’re under

arrest for child abandonment and child endangerment. Please turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

She laughed. “Has the whole world gone insane? This is a trumped-up charge. My attorney will have me out in five minutes.” “We do have a witness. By the way, did I mention that your brother is being arrested at this very moment? He’ll be charged with murder, or accessory to—the D.A. will decide after Jerome talks to us. He was extremely nervous the last time we spoke. I have the feeling he’ll be eager to tell his story. At which point I’m confident that we’ll add murder to the charges against you. Turn around, please.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then obeyed.

He snapped handcuffs on her wrists, then continued speaking. “The female officer who talked with your housekeeper will stay with your son until someone from social services arrives. I’m going to read you your rights now, Mrs. Rhodes. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney …”

Less than a minute later Barone was done. Paula walked down the driveway, ahead of him. As they neared the street. Lisa tried to flatten herself against the wall of the neighboring house, but Paula spotted her and stopped.

They stared at each other.

Paula continued walking to the patrol car. Officer Volansky opened the rear door. She turned toward Lisa.

“By the way, I wouldn’t grieve too long for your fiance if I were you. He told me you were pathetically boring, and lousy in bed.” She smiled and got into the car.

The hotel room was large but old-fashioned, and the ceiling fan was making the warm temperature comfortable.

The bellboy hung up Lisa’s garment bag and set her suitcase on a webbed tray at the foot of the bed. She tipped him and locked the door after he left, then walked into the bathroom and splashed cool water on her face.

She looked tired and disheveled from the flight. She put on a blusher and lipstick and brushed her hair, then sprayed Giorgio in the hollow of her neck and on her wrists. She’d never used this perfume before; she was aware of the strong fragrance minutes later as she turned down the bedspread and changed into a silk print nightgown and matching robe.

She took two scented candles from her suitcase and placed them on the round table in the corner of the room. She lit them and switched off the overhead fixture, then decided the room was too dark. She turned on the lamp on one of the nightstands.

The room had a small balcony. She parted the drapes and looked outside at the darkened city. She hadn’t been nervous when she’d decided to come—it had been her suggestion, in fact—but she was trembling now with nervousness and excitement. She wanted everything to be

perfect. She wondered if Sam was nervous, too, and twisted the ring on her finger.

She heard the sound of a key in the lock. The door opened and she knew without turning that he was here.

Her heart fluttered, then beat rapidly. She wondered idly what effect a rapid pulse would have on the perfume, which was making her a little queasy.

“I like the candles,” he said. “I brought champagne, to celebrate.”

The room had carpeting, but she could hear his footsteps. A moment later she felt his hands on her waist. He ran them up and down over her hips, then moved her long hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that, how much I want you,” he whispered.