Longing and Lies (13 page)

A
shley and Elliot spent the rest of the afternoon going over every line of information that Jasmine had put together.

“When you put their files side by side they're practically identical,” Elliot said, “from city of birth to professions. I mean there are a few variations, but nothing major.”

“They can't be the same person, they look nothing alike.”

“Nothing that a little nip and tuck couldn't cure. Same body types, complexion…” He turned to Ashley. “What's wrong?” he asked, seeing the strained look on her face.

“I don't know,” she said, her voice drifting off.
“Something is nagging me, but I can't put my finger on it.”

Elliot gently massaged the back of Ashley's neck and she moaned in pleasure. “Put it out of your head for a while and it will come to you.”

She closed her eyes and let Elliot's fingers loosen the tension in her body. “You're probably right. I'm overthinking this.”

“Exactly. I'm going to take a hot shower and then check the videos. From the other locations.”

“Do you think we should still pursue a hospital connection?” Ashley asked, stretching.

“Let's see what happens with Gail and the good doctor.”

 

As Ashley lay in bed, all of the details that they'd been given by Jasmine ran around in disarray in her head. She was a person of detail and order, much like Mia. She firmly believed that for every endeavor there had to be a plan for a successful outcome.

She listened to Elliot's deep, even breathing and let it relax her and allow her mind to clear of all the stuff that was cluttering it and blocking what she needed to see.

One by one, she took the information that she had and lined it up like index cards on the white board of her mind: names, years, profession, affiliations, hospitals. Dr. Ettinger. Dr. Lester. Concentrate. What was she missing? The answer hung on the fringes of her
consciousness. Her mother. Layla. She moved the cards around in her head.

Her stomach suddenly tensed. She jerked up in bed. Her heart hammered. Could it be? She eased out of bed and tiptoed to the front. Digging in her purse that she'd left on the couch, she took out her cell phone.

It was nearly 2:00 a.m. but her dad was a notorious insomniac. He'd be annoyed by the call, but he'd be awake. Her father picked up the phone on the first ring.

“Dad, it's Ashley.”

“I guess it is. You're the only one to call me Dad.”

“Dad, listen, I need you to try to remember something. Was Dr. Herman Lester the name of Mom's first doctor before she went to the specialist?”

“Hell, girl, I don't know. That was more than twenty years ago.”

“Dad, I know. But please, think. It's important.”

“Is this about Layla?” His voice rose in anxiety. “Is that what this is about? Why are you asking questions about that at this time? Why? You know how it upsets your mother.”

Her heart started to break all over again when she heard the anguish in her father's voice. Her mother may have had the breakdown, but her dad suffered in many other ways. Not only had he lost a child, he'd lost the woman that he married.

“Dad, please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Look, we'll talk
another time. Get some rest.” She waited for him to say something and when he didn't she said good-night.

Totally shaken, she sat down on the couch, drew her knees to her chest and lowered her head. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, drifting in and out of sleep until the chirping of her cell phone snapped her fully awake. She shook her head to clear it. Calls this time of the night were never about good news, some part of her brain surmised. She snatched up the phone from the couch and frowned when she saw the number. She pressed Talk.

“Dad? Is something wrong? Is it Mom?”

“I went through the old bills and notes,” he began. “I found one from a Dr. Lester.”

Ashley's heart banged in her chest. “Is the first name Herman?”

“Just says Dr. H. Lester, Winston Medical Center. That's where your mother went…in the beginning. To the clinic.”

Ashley's throat had tightened. She remembered going with her mother on her visits when she was first pregnant with Layla. She remembered sitting in the waiting room, looking at magazines with chubby-cheeked babies on the cover and women all around her in varying stages of pregnancy. But then her mother couldn't see Dr. Lester anymore, yes, that was his name, because her mother was high-risk.

Ashley could barely talk. “Thank you, Dad,” she managed. “Please don't put that away. I may need it.”

They said their goodbyes. Ashley's mind was on overdrive. The final piece of the puzzle was just out of her reach, but she knew she'd find it. She'd figure it out.

She walked back into the bedroom and sat down next to Elliot. He stirred, opened his eyes and squinted up at her.

“What're you doing up? What time is it?”

“Dr. Lester treated my mother.”

He rubbed his eyes and sat up in the bed. “What? How do you know?”

“That's what was bugging me, the name. In the back of my mind. I couldn't figure how or why I thought I knew it.” She went on to explain that she'd called her father and he'd found the bill from Dr. H. Lester.

“I don't remember seeing Winston Medical Center in the intel that we have.”

“It wasn't. I know if I'd seen it I would have made the connection sooner.”

“We'll get this info to Jazz in the morning and have her do a trace.” He looked at her with a new admiration. “Have you been to sleep at all?”

“No.” She breathed heavily and rested her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. “Try to get some rest.”

“Some super spy you turned out to be,” she teased, poking him lightly in the side. “You didn't even budge when I was tiptoeing around in here. I could have been an intruder.”

“I figured I had a kick-ass Cartel sister in my bed who would make sure I was safe and sound,” he said, nibbling on her neck.

She laughed and rolled on top of him to let him know just what a Cartel sister was capable of.

 

Elliot hung up the phone just as Ashley emerged from the bathroom wrapped from head to toe in towels.

“I just got off with Jasmine. She said she should have something for us in a couple of hours. I've been going over the video and the e-mails from all of the locations, including Happy Homes. There's nothing. Not a letter out of place. If there is anything going down, it's not happening at these locations.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“If Gail and her husband are brokering babies they're doing it from someplace else, another office, their home…I don't know.”

“I'm sure you're right, and it's obvious that whatever they're doing is shaky. Why not have us meet at the agency? Why take us to someplace private if everything was aboveboard?"

“Exactly.” He ran his hand over the morning stubble on his chin and jaw. His cell phone rang beside him. He looked at the dial. It read Restricted. “Hello?”

“Mr. Morgan?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“This is Gail. I wanted to let you know that based on what we discussed we'd need the first part by the end of
this week. Things are moving along much more quickly than we expected.”

He stole a look at Ashley and mouthed, “Gail. Uh, is tomorrow okay?”

“Of course. I'll be in touch with the arrangements.” The call was disconnected.

Elliot dropped the phone onto the couch. “I need to get over to see Jean. We're going to need the first fifty grand by tomorrow.”

“Give me fifteen minutes and I'll go with you.”

He pulled her unceremoniously down onto his lap. “Don't you have a real job? Somebody has to work to pay the bills around here,” he teased, while wiggling his way under her towel.

She hopped up and snaked out of his grasp. “I actually do need to go into the office. We have tons of work to do with this new cable station account. Although, I'm sure Mia would understand if I came in later.”

“Go on to the office. I'm not gonna run off with the loot like in the movies,” he joked.

“Very funny. Okay. I guess you're right, and I don't want to leave Mia in the lurch.” She started to walk off then looked back at him over her shoulder. “If you need me…just put your lips together and blow.”

“Lauren Bacall ain't got nothing on you, baby,” he chuckled.

She sashayed away to the rhythm of his whistling some unrecognizable tune.

 

“You'll be wearing a wire,” Bernard was saying as he stacked the money into a plain black leather bag. “And we'll have some agents stationed nearby for surveillance.”

“Women are so much more unobtrusive. We'll use Savannah and Danielle if necessary,” Jean said.

“Not a problem,” Bernard agreed, zipping up the bag. He handed it to Elliot. “You've done this a million times. You know the drill.”

Elliot took the bag. “Walk in the park.”

 

Gail had arranged to stop by Elliot and Ashley's apartment to pick up the money and drop off some paperwork.

“They're very cautious,” Elliot was saying to Ashley as he hooked up a video camera above a piece of artwork in the living room. There were bugs all over the apartment to pick up even whispered conversation. But Elliot had a feeling that this exchange was going to be short and sweet. “They're not bringing us anywhere that can connect them to anything out of the ordinary. Coming here was an especially nice touch.” He hopped down off the step stool and stood back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect.”

“They should be here any minute,” Ashley said.

“Yeah.” He stepped up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist before swooping down for a quick kiss. “Ready?”

“Hmmm, hmm,” she said against his lips and she had a sudden flash of what life would be like for her when this was over. How empty it would be. Suddenly she clung to him, surprising them both.

“What is it?” he asked, turning her face up to look at him.

She shook her head. “We're close,” she said, instead of what was on her mind, the fact that this playacting they'd been doing had become real for her and how she was desperately, deeply in love with him, and she didn't know what she was going to do when he was no longer in her life. But of course she could never say that. They were adults, playing house and enjoying each other's company. No more. No less. He'd made it clear that his life was his job, a job that could take him to the ends of the earth at any given time for months on end. “This will all be over soon,” she added, the double entendre having a special significance for her.

Elliot inhaled deeply and pressed her close to his chest. Yes, it will, he thought.

 

At nine o'clock Gail Hastings walked through their door. She'd come alone, which Elliot found significant. If anything were to go down, Gail would take the fall. He'd love to be a fly on the wall in their marriage. By nine-fifteen they had what appeared to be official documents and Gail was gone with the cash.

“The clock is now ticking,” Elliot said as he locked the door behind her.

“E
lliot, it's Jasmine. I have some info on that side case that you asked me about,” the message said. “I'm going to send the data to your PDA. Any questions, give me a call. Sorry it took so long. Seemed to be a rush on spying this week,” she joked.

Elliot grinned. She must have called while they were making the exchange with Gail. While Ashley was on the phone in the bedroom with Mia, he went into the kitchen and booted up his PDA. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he read the information. The overwhelming urge to kick down Gail and her husband's door had him shaking with rage, and he didn't want to rip up the seeds of hope that would never materialize because of something stupid that he did. He knew he
had to keep himself in check. Overreaction could blow everything. This had to be done the right way down to the letter. But at some point he knew he was going to scramble the alphabet.

 

The next two weeks were like hell. The waiting was unbearable. They were so close to breaking the case wide open but it all hinged on that last phone call, the last meeting. The ball was in the other team's court.

And then the call came. They had a little girl. Three days old. They would bring the baby within the hour.

“They're playing this real close,” Elliot said. “They're trying like hell to make sure that no one but them has time to make any moves.”

“I'll call Bernard,” Ashley said, shifting into action. “He needs to get someone here before they arrive.” She was relieved when Bernard picked up on the second ring.

“Putting someone in the house at this point is too risky. They could easily run into each other in the lobby. Elliot is fully authorized to make an arrest. You keep the baby safe and Elliot can take care of the rest. We'll get social services over there as soon as Elliot throws on the cuffs.”

Ashley hung up the phone. “Looks like we're on our own.” She ran down to him what Bernard had said.

“Makes sense. You cool with this?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

Elliot went into the bedroom and retrieved his gun from the top of the closet, checked the safety and tucked it into his waistband at the base of his spine then got his badge, which he hung around his neck, beneath his shirt.

Ashley watched his precision movements from the doorway, the cold, almost-calculated look that descended across his features, the way his eyes darkened and his body tensed. This was who he was, what he did. There was a dangerous energy that radiated from him. And when he turned his head in her direction, she didn't recognize him. Her heart thundered. And then he smiled.

“They should be here any minute.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Come on.” He walked over to her, draped his arm around her shoulder. “Let's go sit down and pretend to be a happily married couple and snag these bastards.”

They were seated at the kitchen table when the lobby bell rang. Elliot pushed back from the table. He went to the intercom, saw that it was Gail and the good doctor on the lobby cameras. He buzzed them in. He turned to Ashley as he removed his gun and checked it one last time.

Ashley swallowed. “Let's do this.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “It's gonna go down smooth as silk.”

The front doorbell rang. Ashley opened it. Gail walked in first with her husband behind her. She was
carrying a large tote bag with a flat bottom. She walked past them and gently placed the bag down on the couch. She reached down inside and took out the newborn baby girl wrapped in pink. She stood there with the baby in her arms.

“Do you have the money?” Dr. Ettinger asked.

Elliot went to the table and brought back the bag that held the balance of the hundred thousand dollars.

“Fifty thousand, just like you asked,” he said.

Dr. Ettinger went to the bag and opened it. He lifted several packs of wrapped bills and flipped through them. He turned to his wife and lifted his chin. Gail handed the baby to Ashley. Dr. Ettinger zipped up the bag.

“Our business is concluded. I'm sure you will be very happy.”

“But you won't,” Elliot said, pulling his weapon. “FBI. You're under arrest.”

Gail screamed. Ashley clutched the baby.

Bernard and another agent burst through the door, grabbed the doctor and Gail, pinning them to the wall as they were read their rights. They'd been listening to everything from the microphone bud that they had in their ears. And while the Ettingers were busy selling a baby, the FBI was searching their apartment in Manhattan and their house on Long Island.

 

By the time the apartment was cleared and social services had come to take the baby, which they were
told had been taken from Long Shore Hospital, Ashley was physically shaken.

“I need to go out for a while,” Elliot said. “Some things I need to take care of. You gonna be okay?”

She felt numb. She nodded.

He looked at her for a long moment. “See you in a few hours.”

Left alone, Ashley was tormented by the enormity of the past few hours, the past month. How could Gail and her husband live with themselves after what they'd done? She couldn't begin to imagine what would crawl out from beneath their rug once it was fully pulled. And for right now, she wouldn't. She curled up into a ball on the couch and cried.

 

Elliot worked with the search team for hours. By the time they were done they'd secured computers, files and journals. He was still sitting at the conference table at New York's FBI headquarters when Bernard came in bearing coffee.

“It's pretty clear that this Robert Ettinger is the mastermind behind a nationwide baby-selling ring. The bureau is lining up indictments for folks all over the city. You should be damned proud of yourself.”

Elliot raised bleary eyes in Bernard's direction and briefly wondered how Bernard had managed to stay so pressed and unruffled after the night they'd had.

“Yeah,” he said, the one word a testament to his exhaustion and his dilemma. He opened a file, compiled
from information taken from the Ettinger house and what Jasmine had put together at his request, turned it around and showed it to Bernard.

Bernard slipped on his half-framed glasses, the only indicator of his age, and sat down. After several long moments, he slowly removed his glasses and set them beside the folder. “What are you going to do?”