L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent (36 page)

But the problem with vows was that sometimes she didn’t have a say. A child’s disappointment wasn’t always a result of something she did wrong, but more what she couldn’t do. Sometimes she felt so helpless.

She patted her lap for Hercules to sit with her. He hopped up and snuggled into her lap just like a baby. She didn’t know why this one case affected her so much, but she had to stop thinking about Cody. She was getting emotionally involved—and that wasn’t good.

Just then the phone rang. She picked it up on the first ring, hoping it was Rico with new information for her. Or that Dr. Dixon had received her message and was returning the call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Miss Capshaw?” A woman’s voice. Young.

“Yes. Yes it is. Who’s calling please?”

Silence ensued, except for muffled breathing.

“Who is this?”

“I—I can’t say. But I have to tell you something. Something very important.”

At the last words, Macy recognized the voice—the receptionist at Haven’s Gate. “Okay. I’m listening.”

CHAPTER TEN

RICO PLOWED THROUGH years of incident reports, looking for something that would trigger a new investigation or a search warrant in his niece’s case. There was nothing. After an hour and a half, he was ready to give up. The Ray case went cold five years ago for a reason. Why couldn’t he just accept it and get on with his job?

Hell, he knew why. He didn’t like failure. And he didn’t like knowing the answers were out there if he could just find them. A child had been abducted, his niece’s child; there had to be clues. Every criminal left something of himself behind. Locard’s Principle. He recalled the statement that it’s impossible for a criminal to act without leaving traces of his presence. Most of it trace evidence, that which is not visible with the naked eye. 

Only the stuff Rico believed was missing wasn’t something the CSU guys were going to uncover. It was something the kidnapper forgot…or failed to do. An incorrect move he’d made or one that left some area open…and vulnerable. Like a game of chess.

Only it wasn’t a game. He was dead serious.

Leaning back, his mind drifted to Macy again. He’d never in a million years expected what she’d told him yesterday. Why had she given up her child? It wasn’t as if her family couldn’t afford to help. Did she not want children? He didn’t know any women who didn’t want children, but he knew from experience that some people should never have them.

Life wasn’t always fair, but when kids got hurt, many times by those who were supposed to love and protect them, it was life at its worst. Humanity at its worst. 

His eyes tired, he squinted, then flipped to another incident report. Holly Magruder. The girl had come back to the center after her child had been adopted and demanded him back. He noted the date. Three months before Chelsey’s baby was abducted. He remembered talking to the girl’s parents. She’d been under psychiatric care before her child was born. Afterward she was sent to the state hospital.

During their earlier investigation, they’d made a point to talk to all the girls who’d stayed at the facility when Chelsey was there. They’d missed Holly because she’d been hospitalized and any testimony she might have given would be tainted by her mental illness.

He flipped another page. LaVonne Smith had an unexplained cut on her wrist. He didn’t remember talking to her, but knew the team would have. He flipped another page and another, finding a lot of little things, but nothing substantial. It was all stuff they’d already covered. Skimming the rest, he finally found another date—the night Macy’s baby was born.

But again he found only a report of one child, not two. The Monroe baby. His nerves went taut. He wasn’t up on adoption rules, but he knew without a doubt that all deaths in a licensed medical facility were required to be reported to the regulating agency.

And Macy’s stillborn baby hadn’t been recorded?

***

A LOUD RINGING JERKED Rico from a dead sleep. He groped for the phone, dropped it once and finally wrestled the thing to his ear. “Yeah!”

“Rico, it’s Macy.”

He rubbed his eyes, then blinked, trying to focus on the red numbers of the digital clock. Instantly he came wide-awake. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Nothing? It’s two o’clock in the morning―” he mumbled, his mouth as dry as cotton, “—and you called to chat?” He’d been out all night on a homicide and had only just gone to bed. As it was, he’d only get a couple hours of sleep before he had to be at the station early, but Macy calling him in the wee hours meant something was wrong, whether she said so, or not.

“I’m sorry. This is important.”

He shoved himself to a sitting position, the clock throwing off enough light for him to see the half-finished can of soda on the chair next to the bed. “It must be if it can’t wait another few hours.” He grabbed the can and guzzled down the dregs. Warm and flat.

“I had a phone call…and I thought you should know about it.”

“What kind of call?” His protective instincts shot up another notch. “A threat?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Okay. What then?” His voice came out sharp, but dammit, between getting no sleep and thinking something had happened to her…

“I visited Haven’s Gate today. And before you get all torqued out of shape, I didn’t do anything illegal. I simply asked to talk to Dr. Dixon.”

“And did you?”

“No, he wasn’t there. But I did talk to the director and asked to have the doctor call me.”

“That’s why you called me?”

She cleared her throat. “No. The receptionist overheard everything and, because I’m an attorney, she thought I should know a couple of things about Haven’s Gate, so
she
called me.”

He rolled out of bed and stretched. “I’m all ears.”

“The receptionist, Danielle, said strange things happen at the shelter. She made me promise not to tell anyone she’d called, which I did. But I couldn’t sleep thinking about it and finally I realized I had to tell you.”

“Go on.”

“She told me one of the residents had confided in her that she didn’t want to give up her child. Danielle told the girl, who was only fifteen, if that’s how she felt, she had to speak to the director.”

Macy’s voice sounded a little shaky.

“After that, Danielle said the girl became really sick. She had the baby and they both disappeared that same night.”

Rico waited a few seconds before he said, “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe she had a change of heart again, signed the papers and went home.”

“At night, after giving birth when she was so sick? That didn’t seem reasonable. So … playing devil’s advocate, that’s what I said. And I asked why she, Danielle, thought it was anything more than that.”

“And?”

“She said she couldn’t say any more because she didn’t want to lose her job. Then, tonight, the more I thought about it, I realized you might want to follow up…find out what happened to that girl and her baby.”

Rico sat on the edge of the bed, his feet on the cool tile floor. He rubbed his eyes. “Damn.”

“You can’t do it?”

“No. I can’t question people on the basis of a disgruntled employee’s rambling. I’d need something on file with the department. A missing person’s report or a complaint of some kind. Is this Danielle willing to file a complaint?”

He heard Macy’s disappointment in her deep sigh.

“Of course not. That’s why she swore me to secrecy.” She sighed again. “I thought… No, I hoped you’d do what needs to be done.”

The muscles in his shoulders tightened. “I always do what needs to be done. The right way.”

A long silence ensued, until she finally said, “Fine. I’ll handle it myself. I was going to do that anyway until I mistakenly thought you might help.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, Macy. I will, but I have to follow procedure. Just be patient. Nothing is going to change immediately, is it?”

“I know someone who can get information I can’t.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You don’t need to like it. If you can’t help me, I’ll get someone who can.”

Stubborn. Bullheaded. Used to getting what she wanted. And whether she knew it or not, she had good reason. He couldn’t tell her about his earlier finding that no incident report had been filed for the date of her child’s birth and, combined with the missing death certificate, it gave cause for suspicion. But he couldn’t tell her because suspicion was all it was.

And why the hell was any of this even his issue?

Because he was concerned about her. And, he realized, he was concerned because he cared about her. He wasn’t supposed to care about her — not in the way he did. “Don’t say anything more.”

“Why? Are you going to arrest me for talking about something? As far as I know, that’s not a crime.”

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. “No, but I will arrest you if you commit one.”

“Fine. I’m not going to do anything illegal.”

Her tone wasn’t convincing. He let out a long sigh. “Good. And since I’ve had a long day and my brain isn’t in full gear, why don’t we talk about this later. I also have something else to talk to you about, so maybe we can get together tomorrow … before you take matters in hand.”

“I can talk now.”

“I can’t because I’ve had only an hour of sleep and I need to be at the station in a couple of hours. I’m cranky as hell and if I don’t get some rest, I’ll be worthless.” And because he had a long list of criminals with explosives expertise to go through before he talked to her. There was a chance the warning wasn’t just meant for him and the sooner he narrowed the target and the suspects, the better.

Silence on the other end made him wonder if she was still there. Then she said, “I have some time around five o’clock tomorrow. Will that work?”

“Great. I’ll come to your office.” After Rico hung up, he had second thoughts. If there was a possibility Haven’s Gate was involved in a cover-up, and it was looking more and more like it was, he had to be careful what he told her.

He just hoped to hell she didn’t do something before he talked to her.

***

MACY PLUMPED THE CUSHION with a good solid punch. Five in the morning and she was still awake.

She’d known a lot of cops and none of them had such rigid standards as Rico Santini. They improvised. They did what was necessary to get the job done. But as much as she wanted him to do what she wanted, despite procedure, she had to admit she admired that part of his character. He had convictions…lived his beliefs.

So, she’d wait to take things further. There were other areas to pursue anyway. Her father had to have a copy of the death certificate stuffed away somewhere. He was as thorough as any man could be, but getting him to even talk about her so-called “indiscretion” was difficult. Still, she had to do it…before her parents left for Europe.

She waited a couple of hours until she thought her father might be up, then called his personal line. After five rings, when Macy expected the message recorder to pick up, her mother answered.

“Mom, it’s Macy. Is Dad there? I need to talk to him.”

“He had to work late, dear, and he’s not home yet.”

“It’s morning and he’s still working?”

“Yes. That’s what he said. Is anything wrong?”

“No, I just… When I had the baby twelve years ago, he took care of all the arrangements and I need to know if he has the death certificate filed away somewhere.”

Sarah cleared her throat. “I don’t know anything about that. And I don’t think your father would like being reminded of it.”

The words seemed pat. Something her mom had been programmed to say.

“Why do you need it?”

“I just need to see it, that’s all. Can you please give Dad a message to call me when he comes home?”

“I may not be here when he gets home, but I’ll leave him the message.”

“What kind of business keeps him out all night?”

“I don’t know, dear. I never get involved in his business. You know that.”

Her mother’s voice wavered. Something wasn’t right.

“I know, Mom. But sometimes it’s good to know what’s going on. He is your husband.”

Macy didn’t understand how two people who’d been married for thirty years could know so little about each other. Their marriage seemed more of a business deal than anything.

No wonder marriage scared her. If she ever married, it would have to be a very different relationship than the one her parents had.

“I know you’re right, Macy. And I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.”

“Thinking a lot about what, Mom?”

“About how your father is gone so much, and he and I don’t communicate. Mary Lou, one of the new girls in the bridge club, says your father controls everything, including my life.”

Macy nearly fell off the couch. This was not her mother talking. Whenever Macy had suggested the same thing, her mother defended her father. He was perfect for her. They had a perfect life together.

“He loves you and you love him. Whatever works for both of you is just fine.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know if it’s working. I don’t know if it ever did.”

“Oh, Mom. I’m so sorry.” And she was. Not for her father’s sake, but for her mother’s. “I hate that you’re feeling bad. Do you want to come over and talk?” she asked, even though they’d rarely communicated before. Macy had longed for it so many times. “Or I could come there?”

“No. It’s okay. I’m going to take a pill. I’ll feel better after that.”

Macy didn’t know what to say. Sarah might not be the independent person Macy sometimes wished she’d be, but she loved her nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, dear. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Don’t be sorry. You can say anything to me.”

“Thank you sweetheart. I may be just having one of my moments. Please don’t mention this conversation to your father.”