Hide and Snoop (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) (23 page)

Carl was still breathing, but barely. I held his hand, ignoring Fehring, until the paramedics took over. Once assured Carl Yates was in good hands, I went back to the garbage can, leaned over it, and threw up.

twenty-eight

The joint. The slammer.
The clink.

I’d been down this road before, and it wasn’t any easier the second time around.

“You okay, Odelia?”

I looked up with surprise at Fehring. “You just called me Odelia, not Ms. Grey.”

Fehring offered a half smile of truce as she handed me a soda. She handed the one in her other hand to Seth, who once again was acting as my counsel. Greg was waiting outside the interrogation room, pacing in his wheelchair. The police had allowed Zee and Lily to go home with police protection.

This time I wasn’t being questioned about a dead body and my connection to it, but I had spent the past few hours being debriefed, sharing everything I had learned and knew with the police. In return, Fehring was bringing me up to speed, though I’m sure she wasn’t disclosing everything. But to be fair, neither was I. I had only said that my half brother, a former cop who now worked high-level security for the private sector, had run the prints. I left William Proctor out of everything.

I popped the top off the soda. It was my third, and I was feeling the buzz of the caffeine and the rush of the sugar. Fehring had brought me a sandwich earlier, but I was only able to nibble at it. Although I’d hardly eaten all day, I wasn’t hungry, just happy to be alive.

“I still can’t believe Alyce and Gary Allen are kidnappers.” After taking a drink, I looked up at Fehring with alarm. “Their own kids—what about them? Are they theirs or…” I let my words trail off.

“We’re looking into that,” Fehring told us. “The Allen woman claims they are hers by birth, but we’re not exactly taking her word for it without proof.” Fehring took a seat. “That’s why they tossed the Holt house. In addition to trying to find Connie Holt, they were looking for Lily’s adoption papers and birth certificate, knowing close scrutiny would show them to be fake.”

“Have you located them?”

“Not yet, but we’re hoping Erica Mayfield can help with that. According to Alyce, Erica knew Lily’s adoption was illegal, though she didn’t know or want to know where the child came from. She said Mayfield even went over the paperwork for her sister. My guess is it’s in a safe-deposit box somewhere.”

“If Erica knew about the illegal adoption,” Seth added, “she’s going to lose her law license, especially considering the child was kidnapped.”

I nodded in agreement. The California bar was going to have a field day with this. “Where’s Erica now?”

“Still out of the country. We’re trying to get her back here before she slips through our fingers and disappears.”

Fehring stretched. It was early evening, and like us, she’d been going over the mess for hours. “Seems the Allens ran a small but very lucrative black-market baby ring. Desperate but well-heeled couples would find their way to them through discreet referrals and put in an order for the type of child they wanted—things like eye and hair color, gender, even age up to a certain point. The Allens would look for a child that matched the description, generally somewhere far away from where the adoptive parents lived, and would snatch the candidate.”

I shuddered, and not for the first time in the past few hours. “Basically, the Allens were operating a child chop shop, like organized car thieves.”

“Basically,” Fehring agreed. “According to Alyce, they’ve been doing it for years and saw it as God’s work. They would remove a child from a poor or bad environment and relocate them to a well-to-do family where they would have the best education and opportunities.”

“You mean sell the child, don’t you?” My words were laced with disgust.

“Yes,” Fehring said, “they would sell the children. Alyce is still in shock, but we’ve been getting pieces of information out of her all afternoon. Seems they’ve had several aliases and have moved around—no telling what we’re going to find once we start really digging. We’re working on her now about any records they might have kept on other children. We’re also going through their home with a fine-tooth comb.”

Alyce had been driving the van while Gary did the shooting. What the police had gleaned so far was that as soon as she saw me back in the office, Alyce had called Gary and alerted him to my whereabouts, then joined him to lie in wait for me in the garage. They had used Mother’s services to get rid of the Holts, but when she refused the job to finish me off, they decided to become do-it-yourselfers. It was as yet undetermined what they had planned for Lily. When the van tipped and crashed into my car, Gary had been crushed to death, leaving a shell-shocked Alyce to spill the story.

Seth shook his head, still as stunned as I was over everything. “How did the Allens get hooked up with the Holts, and why did it turn bad?”

“Apparently,” Fehring explained, “the Holts had been trying to adopt but were unsuccessful, something Alyce learned after coming to work for Erica. She and Gary approached them, and the Holts grabbed at the chance to become parents. According to Alyce, Hank Holt came to Gary several months ago with an idea to expand the operation. He wanted in as a partner, but Gary balked at the idea, believing he was doing the Lord’s work and not in the business of selling people for profit.”

“Talk about denial.” Seth took a deep breath of disbelief.

“Exactly,” said Fehring. “When Gary refused to let Hank in, Hank threatened to expose the operation. Gary Allen reciprocated by threatening the entire family, Lily included. Learning that, Connie Holt panicked.”

I ran the information around in my head. “So she left her daughter in Erica’s care and disappeared, hoping the Allens wouldn’t dare touch Lily if she were in the care of someone else.”

Fehring nodded. “That’s what we think, but can’t be sure. Although I doubt Connie expected Erica to bring Lily into the office, where Alyce had access to her.”

I ran a finger down the side of the cool soda can. “And since Erica knew the adoption was bogus, she worried about her own skin, dumped the kid on me, and took off. She never wanted any part of Lily. Maybe she hoped the Allens would take her and bump me off in the process—a twofer.”

“Could be,” Fehring agreed with a nod of her head. “We also think Connie got hit when she came out of hiding to check on Lily.”

The three of us sat in silence a moment. Even seasoned Fehring seemed lost in the bizarre facts of the case.

“Your hunch was right, you know.” I looked across the table at Fehring when she spoke to me. “Lily was from Wisconsin. How’d you know?”

I felt my lips part in a small smile, even though I wasn’t feeling cheerful. “Cheesehead,” I explained. “Lily used the term
cheesehead.
At first I thought it was just a little kid’s imagination, then I realized she had to have learned it somewhere. It wasn’t a foolproof lead—she could have heard it on TV—but it gave you someplace to start.”

“We’ve contacted her parents. They’re on their way here now.”

Seth blew out some air, thinking, I’m sure, about his own kids. “They must be shell-shocked. I know I would be.”

Detective Fehring leaned forward. “Lily’s real name is Aurora, Aurora Sanger. Her parents are Pat and Kate Sanger. She also has two older brothers. At the time she was taken, her father’s business had gone under, and the family had lost their home. They were bunking with relatives, trying to rebuild their lives. It was exactly the type of situation the Allens looked for when shopping for kids. I’m happy to say the Sangers are back on their feet now.”

“I can’t imagine the pain the Sangers went through.” I took a drink of soda. “Do you have children, Detective Fehring?”

She hesitated, weighing how much of her personal life, if any, to share. She didn’t strike me as the chatty coffee-klatch type. “Yes. I have a daughter, Chelsea. She’s thirteen going on thirty-five. Some days I want to ship her off to Borneo, then something like this happens and I want to put her under lock and key to keep her safe.”

“I hear ya,” responded Seth. “Felt that way about my own.”

“And what about Mark Baker?” I asked.

After the shooting, Mark had been spirited away in a patrol car, as I had. I caught a glimpse of him at the station hours ago but had not seen nor heard anything about him since. All I knew was that while he was hiding in my car, he’d used my recharging cell phone to call the police when he saw I was in danger.

“He’s being processed,” is all Detective Fehring surrendered.

“But who is he? The way he handled that gun and the situation, he had to be professionally trained by someone. And what was he doing in my car in the first place?”

Andrea Fehring might have told me about her daughter, but I could tell from the set of her jaw she was giving up squat about Mark Baker, although it was confirmed he was not having an affair with Erica. Nor was he having an affair with Racel. I had brought up that I thought someone was hiding in Erica’s bedroom when I was there with Racel and that maybe it had been Mark. After questioning, Racel admitted that it was her boyfriend from school and that Erica had threatened to fire her if she had him over, so he hid when I arrived.

Next to me, Seth cleared his throat. “Considering how this Baker character was after Odelia’s job, then was found hiding in her car with a gun, I think we deserve an explanation, even if he did save her life.”

“I agree.” The comment did not come from Fehring, but from someone opening the door. It was Mark Baker. He slipped inside and stood next to the table. “You do deserve answers, Odelia.”

Mark was still dressed in the same shirt and slacks he’d been wearing during the shootout, but now a badge of some kind was fastened to his belt.

“You’re a cop?” I asked, my question a mixture of wonder and wariness.

“Special agent,” he corrected. “My agency had suspicions about the Allens but no proof. We picked up their trail in another state and followed them here. I went undercover at Hamlin-Hawke to get close to Alyce, who seemed to be the weak link of the operation.”

“So you knew Lily was a black-market adoption?”

He moved his head back and forth with two short jerks. “No, not until now. When I saw how detached Erica was towards her niece, especially after her sister disappeared, and how interested the Allens seemed to be in the child, I was worried they were going to kidnap her and sell her off.”

Seth leaned forward. “So you thought she might end up a new product for their service?”

“Yes,” answered Mark.

I pointed a finger at Mark. “That’s why you kept asking me where she was?”

“Yes. I was relieved when you got her out of the office.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were in my car, ready to ambush me.”

Mark casually put one foot up on an empty chair like he owned the place. “After Erica’s sister was murdered, I knew things were coming to a head and you might be in danger. After I saw you drive into the parking garage when you weren’t even supposed to be at the office, I decided to intervene and get you out of the way myself.”

“You were going to kill me?” My voice climbed the ladder to hysteria.

“No, not at all,” Mark assured me. “My plan was to get you somewhere safe, either willingly or by force.”

“But—” I started, but Mark cut me off.

“And that’s all I can tell you.”

A silence settled over the room. Seth and I exchanged looks before Seth turned to Mark. “Thank you. My client and I are satisfied.”

Mark put his foot back down to the floor and started for the door.

“Not so fast,” I said just as he put a hand on the doorknob. I got to my feet. I had hoped to jump up with showy indignation, but the bumps and bruises from being thrown to the ground had rendered me slightly decrepit. “If you were undercover and obviously not a career paralegal, why were you so gung-ho to take over my job and my office? Were you even qualified to be there?”

Mark first looked at Fehring, then at Seth, who said, “I think that’s a fair question.” Fehring seemed to agree.

Mark gave me a tight-lipped smile. “First of all, I do have a paralegal certificate. I was a paralegal for the agency before I got into field work. That’s one of the reasons they chose me for this assignment.” He left the door and moved closer to me. “After the merger, we did background checks on all Woobie employees. We were worried your habit of playing amateur sleuth would get in the way of our investigation. Since Erica wanted you gone, it was easy to play along with her and get you out of the way before you got in ours. It wasn’t personal, I assure you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you said that before, but being thrown under a bus is very personal to the person wearing the tire tracks.”

“I’m very sorry, Odelia.” Mark’s face softened. “For what it’s worth, it was a shitty thing to do, and you are definitely the better paralegal.” He leaned forward and whispered, “You’re not a bad investigator, either. But you didn’t hear me say that.”

Carl Yates went straight
from the parking garage into surgery. Last we heard, he was going to be okay, but it would be quite a while before he was well enough to go back to work. He didn’t seem to have anything to do with the Allens’ baby-buying scheme, only bad judgment when it came to his pecker.

Dev would be out of commission for a while, too. He’d gotten up Monday morning as usual but felt horribly ill and had shortness of breath. He called 911 but blacked out just before they arrived. That afternoon, about the time I was being gunned down, he underwent bypass surgery.

twenty-nine

“Sweetheart, you okay?”

I didn’t respond to Greg but remained still. I was in the guest bedroom, lying on top of the bed—Lily’s bed—with the drapes closed. I was moping in the dark, wondering about what might have been had Lily not had a family who loved and wanted her. Not that I wasn’t truly thrilled that the Sangers got her back. We’d met them briefly a few days after they’d arrived in California to retrieve the daughter they’d thought was lost forever.

Detective Fehring had asked us to come down to the station, saying there was some final paperwork to go over. I called Seth to see if I should have him by my side, and he said he and Zee had also been called in. When we arrived, Fehring escorted the four of us into a small room and introduced us to the Sangers, a quiet, bookish couple in their thirties. With them were their two sons.

“Cheesehead Squirrel!” Lily broke away from her parents and latched herself onto my thick leg. I squatted down and gave her a long, firm hug. When I stood up, Kate Sanger threw herself into my arms, sobbing words of gratitude. With tears running down his face, her husband pumped all of our hands with vigor.

“The Sangers wanted to thank you,” Fehring explained, “for helping get Aurora back safe and sound.”

I wondered if the police had told the Sangers there had been a hit put out on their three-year-old, or if they had let that tidbit of information slide for now. They couldn’t keep it a secret, not if Alyce Allen went to trial, but now might not be the best time to disclose everything. Either way, I certainly wasn’t bringing it up.

We had a short but lovely visit. Just before we parted, Lily handed me the sad little bear in the torn tutu—the one she’d called Mummy.

“I bought Mamie for Aurora just before she disappeared,” Kate Sanger explained, stroking her daughter’s head. “It was her second birthday, and it was all we could afford. I think she wants you to have it.”

I clutched the bear named Mamie, not Mummy, as I wallowed in the bed Lily had once slept in and thought about the little girl who had started out being an annoyance with a head cold and become a piece of my heart.

Greg wheeled closer to the bed. “You know, sweetheart, we could still adopt.”

I shook my head slowly side to side. “I’ll be okay, Greg. Really, I will.”

My husband reached out and fingered my hair, running his palm down to cup my cheek. He understood all too well.

“I think you and I are fine just the way we are. Don’t you?”

Greg nodded and smiled. “Yes, I do.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

“Who was at the door?” I asked. I had heard the doorbell, followed by Wainwright’s usual barking, just minutes earlier.

“Steele’s here. He’s concerned about you. You feel like seeing him? If not, I’ll send him on his way.”

I took a deep breath. “No, I’ll see him. Why don’t you hand him a beer and give me a minute to freshen up.”

Greg kissed me again and left the room.

Greg and Steele were
in the kitchen, both with bottles of beer in their hands. It was Friday night. Greg hadn’t been home from work long, and Steele looked like he’d just come from the office. I hadn’t returned to work yet, and when I did, I was going to give notice. There was no way now I would ever go back to Woobie. There were just too many recent bad memories. I wanted to remember Woobie as it had been before the merger.

Steele raised his bottle in my direction. “TGIF, Grey. It’s been a very long week, hasn’t it?”

Greg handed me a beer, and I took a seat next to Steele. I clinked my bottle against his. “Felt more like ten years instead of a week.” I took a long drink.

On the table in front of Steele was a ten-by-fourteen-inch white envelope. On the address label was the Hamlin, Hawke, Boer, and Yates logo with my address.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Your layoff package.” Steele pushed the envelope towards me. “And it’s quite generous.”

“They laid me off?” I couldn’t believe it. Indignation raised its ugly head. “How dare they!”

Greg put a hand on my arm. “But you said you weren’t going back. This is a good thing, sweetheart. You said so yourself a few days ago that the ideal thing would be for them to lay you off so you could collect the money.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense.” I took another swig of beer. “I don’t want to return, but I also don’t want them to cast me aside like I’m excess baggage. Besides, with Mark gone, they now need a corporate paralegal.”

“Exactly,” stressed Steele. “After all the hullaballoo with Carl and the shooting, I called a few of the old Woobie partners I knew would be straight with me. Seems the partnership had decided in favor of keeping Mark over you after all, but now that he’s disappeared, that decision is moot.”

I tapped the envelope. “But this is a layoff package.”

“Yes, it is.” Steele assured me. “And it’s dated last Friday. Carl was supposed to lay you off with everyone else but held off, partially because he was determined to change the decision and keep you on for his own purposes.”

Steele paused to let the information sink into my thick skull. “So the ball’s in your court, Grey. You can go back to that hellhole or you can take the money, have a nice summer, and come work for me in the fall.” Steele sounded confident about the last part.

“But with Mark Baker gone, there’s no longer a duplication of positions. Why would they give me that choice? Why wouldn’t they just wait for me to quit, which any fool would know I would do under the circumstances? Then it would cost them nothing.”

“I’m guessing,” said Greg, giving Steele a sly look, “that someone pressured them into keeping the layoff in play.”

I looked at Greg, feeling the confusion take form on my face. When I swung my eyes back to Steele, it all fell into place. “You bullied them into giving me the severance money?”

“
Bullied
is an ugly word, don’t you think?” Steele took another swig from his bottle. “I just reminded them about everything that happened to you, and all at the hands of one partner or another.”

“So you threatened to sue them on my behalf?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“
Threatened
is another ugly word, Grey. And, besides, I wasn’t authorized to negotiate a lawsuit or anything on your behalf. All I did was make a few calls to people I knew and had worked with for many years and casually remind them of everything you’ve done for the firm and everything the firm had
recently
done to you.”

I leaned back in my chair, not sure what to think. “Unbelievable.”

Steele gave me a shit-eating grin. “This morning Boer called and set up a meeting to hand me this personally.”

“Boer,” said Greg, “always struck me as a good guy.”

“He is,” Steele assured him. “He’s a decent guy and a sharp attorney. He’s appalled by this whole mess.”

Steele turned to me. “Boer said to tell you he’s deeply sorry and would love to continue working with you, and I know he meant it. He assured me your layoff was by no means unanimous among the partners. But he’d also understand if you don’t feel the same way about coming back.”

I picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a multi-page letter explaining the terms of the layoff, insurance issues, vacation time accrued, and other bookkeeping matters of separation. It was dated last Friday. With it was a large check in the amount I’d expected based on what Kelsey had told me. There was also another check, dated today. My eyes popped like two balloons when I saw the amount. With it wasn’t a letter but a release and confidentiality agreement.

“What’s this for?” I waved the second check at Steele.

“It’s your bonus for a job well done.”

“Woobie doesn’t give staff bonuses in March or in this amount, and since when do bonuses come with confidentiality agreements?”

Steele smiled like he’d just checkmated someone. “I convinced them to pay it earlier, considering.”

I handed the second check and agreement to Greg. “This is a payoff,” he announced after looking it over, “plain and simple. They’re afraid she’ll sue and know she has good cause.”

“That firm,” Steele explained to us, tapping an index finger on the table to emphasize his point, “is facing serious issues right now, starting with a federal investigation into whether or not Erica Mayfield, an equity partner, knew about and participated in a black- market baby ring operated by another employee. Carl Yates is probably going to get dragged into it as well, considering his relationship with her. Along with the feds, there will be a state investigation and one by the California Bar. A lawsuit by Odelia is small potatoes compared to all that.” He leaned back in his chair. “They want this problem to go away so they can focus on the other stuff.”

I ran a hand over my weary face, then took the check back from Greg. I studied it with mixed emotions. Woobie had been my family for decades. I felt relieved to have an out but heartsick by the turn of events. “This will bring Woobie to its knees.”

“Most likely,” Steele confirmed. “This layoff package and bonus are predicated on you accepting the layoff. If you turn it down and return to work on Monday, it all goes away, and you’ll have to take your chances with the survival of the firm.”

Even though I knew what I had to do, I turned to Greg for support. “What do you think I should do, honey?”

Greg flashed me his killer smile. “Take the money and run, sweetheart—all the way to the bank.”

the end