Baltimore [3.5] Broken Silence (3 page)

‘Told you she’d pick that up,’ Joseph said smugly.

‘All right,’ Kate grumbled. ‘You were right, I was wrong. Yes, Daphne, the lab checked the sand. It’s Eastern Shore sand that she could have picked up anywhere from Delaware to Virginia. It’ll take weeks to pin it down any further. Take a look at the coat.’

Daphne drew the large bag from the box. At first glance, all she could see was blood, but when she turned the bag over to see the other side, her eyes widened.

Holy God
. It was snow white and it was fur – and it didn’t look faux. ‘I’d need to touch it to be sure, but this looks like real fox fur. We’re talking major bucks here.’

‘You’re right,’ Joseph said. ‘It’s real fox fur. Lab checked the fibers. We’re waiting on the analysis of the specific type and where it came from.’

‘I’ve checked around,’ Kate said. ‘None of the department stores carry anything like it.’

‘I’m not surprised. They could special-order it, but this comes from a very exclusive furrier. If you’re paying that kind of money, you don’t order sight unseen. You’ll try it on in person. Get the full royal treatment. You know, champagne, caviar . . .’

Kate shook her head. ‘For a little girl?’

‘Not the champagne, of course. That would have been for the mother.’

‘Do you have furs like this?’ Kate asked Daphne hesitantly.

‘No. My ex’s mother has a closet full, though. Occasionally she’d take me with her when she went shopping for a new mink so that she could teach me to be “discriminating.” After all, a proper lady would never be caught dead in a substandard fur.’ Daphne returned the coat to the evidence box. ‘I’d circulate Angel’s picture around at the fur salons to see if anyone remembers her. You might find a coat like this in D.C., but your chances are better in New York. This will be the kind of place that caters to celebrities and the very, very wealthy.’

‘I’ll get on it,’ Kate said. ‘Thanks.’

Daphne turned back to the window to find Angel in the exact same position and the social worker looking discouraged. ‘Can I talk to Angel?’

‘I was hoping you would,’ Joseph said.

Monday, December 23, 12:50
P.M.

‘You were right,’ Kate said again when she and Joseph were alone in the observation room. ‘Asking her to help this little girl was exactly what she needed.’

Joseph watched as Heidi told Angel that she was going to the bathroom for a few minutes and that Daphne would be watching over her. He hoped like hell he’d done the right thing. ‘I put off asking her,’ he confessed quietly to Kate. ‘But our chances of finding whoever killed Angel’s parents drop with every hour that passes. Angel’s the key.’

‘Hi, Joseph. Kate.’ Heidi closed the door behind her. ‘This kid is a tough nut to crack.’

‘Daphne may not have any more luck than you did,’ Joseph said. ‘Thanks for bringing Angel here so that we could try.’

‘My pleasure. It was good for her to get out of the hospital, get a little change of scenery. I have learned something about her. She has a sweet tooth.’ Heidi smiled at the little girl sadly. ‘We stopped for ice cream on the way. She put away three scoops. Kid has a hollow leg.’

‘Then she and Daphne should get along just fine.’ Sending up a prayer, Joseph listened.

‘Hey,’ Daphne was saying. ‘My name is Daphne. I hear they call you Angel.’ She took a moment to choose a coloring book from the pile on the table. ‘I actually thought you looked more like a fairy when I first saw you. Fairies have wings like angels, but they have more attitude. I like attitude. I’ve got a lot of attitude myself.’

The child did not move a muscle.

‘I saw your boots,’ Daphne continued. ‘Love ’em. You’ve got good taste, sugar. Or maybe your mama has good taste. Either way, I’m jealous.’

The child’s shoulders stiffened, a minute movement that Joseph might have overlooked had he not been watching so intently. Daphne noticed it too, her eyes flashing up to the glass before returning to her coloring book.

‘She did that,’ Heidi murmured, ‘whenever I mentioned her mother. But only when I said “mama.” I don’t think I got anything with “mommy” or “mother.” It might be nothing, of course.’

‘All parts of the puzzle,’ Joseph murmured back.

‘And your coat. It’s so beautiful and soft. Where did you get it?’ No response. Daphne chose a crayon and opened the coloring book. ‘Oh, I like this coloring book. It’s got ponies.’

This time there was no mistaking it. Angel’s chin jerked up and she met Daphne’s eyes for a split second. Then a dark shadow crossed the child’s face, and down her chin went.

‘And here I’ve been coloring kitties all this time,’ Heidi said dryly.

‘You like ponies?’ Daphne asked quietly. ‘So do I. The pony in this book is on TV. I think it’s supposed to be blue or maybe purple, but I like pink, so I’m coloring this pony pink.’

Angel’s shoulders heaved up and down. She was crying. Daphne swallowed hard, compassion in her eyes.

‘When I was a little girl,’ she said, ‘a little older than you, I saw something terrible. I saw someone I loved get hurt. Later, some nice people found me and took me home to my parents, but I didn’t talk for a long, long time. Everyone was in my face, asking me to tell them about the girl that got hurt. They wanted to find her and I was the only one who knew where she was. But I couldn’t remember. And what I did remember, I was too scared to tell.’

No response. Angel’s shoulders no longer shook, but it was because she was holding her breath. Daphne ran her hand down the child’s back. ‘It’s okay, honey. Cry. It’s okay.’

Angel hunkered down, arms wrapped around her knees. The sob barreled out, such agony from a child so small. Daphne continued to rub Angel’s back, letting her cry until the child began to cough.

Sliding out of her chair to the floor, Daphne lifted Angel onto her lap, rocking her, her face mirroring the child’s anguish.

‘She didn’t cry at all in the hospital,’ Heidi said. ‘But why are ponies a trigger?’

‘I don’t know, but they seem to be.’ Just hearing the sobs was tearing at Joseph’s heart.

Eventually Angel stilled, shuddering out a breath.

‘Angel?’ Daphne murmured. ‘I have ponies. Would you like to see them?’

The child froze.

‘It’s okay to say no,’ Daphne said. ‘It’s okay to say nothing at all, until you’re ready. But if you want to see my ponies, you can just nod.’

Angel slowly looked up and Joseph caught his breath. The child looked desperate. Like she wanted to say something so much, but couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

Daphne was smiling down at her. ‘Ponies?’ she prompted, nodding encouragingly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Angel nodded too.

The three in the observation room exhaled in unison.

‘Son of a gun,’ Heidi whispered.

‘Girls love ponies,’ Kate said. ‘Can you arrange a visit to Daphne’s farm?’

‘I’ll make it happen,’ Heidi promised. ‘This helps me, actually. The doctor was ready to release her from the hospital today and told me to arrange for foster care tonight. I needed a little time to find the right place for her.’

Kate frowned. ‘I told him he needed to clear a release with us. We’ll be putting Angel in protective custody, at least until we know who she is and what kind of danger she’s in.’

‘Good. You should set the protective custody up ASAP. She’s medically cleared now.’

‘I will. I’ll let the doctor know we’ll check her out tomorrow morning. That way we can move her from Daphne’s farm straight to a safe house. Can you have her out to Daphne’s by tomorrow at ten?’

‘Will do.’ Heidi returned to the interview room where Daphne still held the little girl on her lap. She reached for Angel, but the child wrapped her arms around Daphne’s neck and clung. Daphne closed her eyes and Joseph could see she was fighting tears. She sat with Angel for a long while, Heidi waiting patiently in one of the nearby chairs. But eventually, Daphne looked up.

‘Angel, honey. It’s time to go with Miss Heidi. But you’ll see my ponies soon.’

The desperation in Angel’s eyes intensified, but she allowed Heidi to take her. Clearly shaken, Daphne walked into the observation room and straight into Joseph’s arms. She was trembling and Joseph felt like a monster.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.’

‘No. You should have. I’m glad you did. She wants to talk, but she’s so scared.’

‘Maybe she’ll talk to the ponies,’ he said softly. ‘You did.’

‘I know. That’s what I’m counting on.’

Kate cleared her throat. ‘I’m heading out. I’ll arrange protection for Angel tomorrow. If she can I.D. the killer, she’s a loose end. I’ll also send her photo and a description of the coat to the Manhattan field office and get them interviewing New York furriers while I check around D.C.’

‘Sounds good,’ Joseph said. ‘Thanks, Kate.’ When they were alone, he lifted Daphne’s chin and kissed her. Not passionately, but comfortingly. ‘I am sorry. I knew it would be hard for you, but I was running out of options.’

‘I know. And I really am all right. But if you could hold me for another minute?’

‘It’ll be a hardship,’ he teased, then drew her close, resting his cheek on top of her head. The seconds ticked by in comfortable silence, until his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

‘You should get that call,’ she said. ‘It’s probably important.’

‘It’s a text, not a call.’ But he knew Daphne was right. Angel was just one of the cases on his plate. Only one other was as high a priority, though – the recovery of the two dozen victims they’d found buried behind a cabin in West Virginia two weeks before.

It was slow work. They’d spent the last two weeks mapping out the burial ground using ground penetration radar to keep from inadvertently destroying evidence. They’d just started retrieving the bodies a few days before.

Except for one body. All of the victims had been teenaged girls except for the one adult male they’d found buried off to the side. They’d retrieved his body first. And then Joseph had been forced to inform Daphne that they’d found her father. For nearly thirty years she’d thought he’d abandoned them, while all this time he’d been lying in an unmarked grave.

‘It’s from Sophie Johannsen,’ he said, after reading the text. Sophie was the archaeologist who had volunteered her expertise in underground mapping. ‘She’s trying to get in touch with you, Daphne. She needs you to call her ASAP.’

Daphne’s sigh was weary. ‘I know. I got her voice mail this morning, but I haven’t had the courage to call her back. She found my father’s guitar buried close to where they found his body. She says it’s in excellent shape because it was in a waterproof case. Sophie wants to give it to me, but I can’t handle going back to the cabin right now.’

‘Completely understandable. I can call her if you want.’

‘No, I’ll do it. I’ll ask her to put it aside and one of your people can bring it to me later.’

‘Sounds like a plan. Are you okay now?’

‘I was okay before. I just liked having you hold me.’

‘I’ll hold you more later. When I get home from work.’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

Baltimore; Monday, December 23, 7:00
P.M.

A
mber Knowles ran from the kitchen, leaving the pot of baby-bottle nipples boiling on the stove. ‘Don’t slam . . .’ The door slammed, and the baby began to cry. ‘I just got her to sleep.’

Brock pushed past her, grocery sacks in hand. ‘Sorry,’ he said insincerely.

‘Whatever.’ She went back to the bedroom and lifted the baby from her crib. ‘You’re a lot of trouble,’ she crooned. ‘I can’t wait to get rid of you. I’m really starting to hate you. But you’re so pretty. Your new mama and papa are gonna pay big bucks for you. I’ll never have to worry about money again.’

Because Amber did. Constantly. Between the legit bills, Brock’s increasingly more expensive ‘supplements,’ coupled with the huge pay cut she’d taken moving from the hospital to private nursing . . . She was always dodging bill collectors and was damn tired of it.

The brat finally went to sleep again and Amber dragged herself to the kitchen. ‘Next time,’ she snapped, ‘do not slam the damn door.’

‘Hey, babe, it’s not like I’m having a vacation either.’ Brock pulled a bag of diapers from one of the grocery sacks. ‘These fuckers are expensive.’

‘I keep telling you that kids cost too much. Maybe now you’ll remember the next time your mother nags us about grandchildren. Tell her we can’t afford them so she’ll get off my back.’

‘We’ll be able to afford anything we want soon,’ Brock said. ‘We could have babies then.’

‘Dammit. We’ve been over this, Brock. I worked as hard for this body as you did for yours. If you think that I’m going to let some whiny little brat ruin it . . .’ She broke off abruptly when he started to grin, making her smile, too. ‘You’re just yanking my chain, aren’t you?’

‘Only because it’s so much fun to do.’ He reached over, slapped her ass. ‘I like this body, too. And after this little fiasco, I’ll be happy if I never see a baby again.’

‘Good.’ She looked at the table, rolled her eyes. ‘For God’s sake, did you get anything on my list?’ The table was stacked with beer and the protein shakes he ‘couldn’t live without.’

‘I got diapers and three pounds of steak. And by the way, your nipples are boiling.’

She ran to turn down the flame. ‘Did it not
occur
to you to turn down the stove yourself?’

‘But then I wouldn’t get to say that your nipples are boiling. And that never gets old.’

She shook her head, her anger dissipating yet again. ‘You are such a middle-schooler.’

‘It’s why you love me.’

‘You’re right.’ Actually, it was because he was total eye candy and amazing in the sack to boot, all those hours in the gym very well spent. The two of them looked good together, turning heads whenever they walked through a crowd. Imagine how much better they’d look in flashy clothes, driving fancy cars to a different five-star restaurant every night.

‘Did you see her?’ Brock asked casually, but Amber wasn’t fooled. Lighthearted Brock had left the building. It was time to talk business and he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.