Lullabies and Lies (23 page)

She swallowed. “You shot her. Why?”

Jane laughed. “Because she didn’t listen to me. After all these years, old Bess finally decided she could think for herself. Surprised the hell out of me. I didn’t think she had it in her.”

Sunny watched Jane in fascination. How could she have thought she was nondescript? Her brown eyes glittered with evil lights. Her face was sharp and sallow, the skin drawn across her bones as tightly as a latex glove. She moved quickly, jerkily, like a bird.

At first, Sunny had thought she was mad. But she wasn’t. She was brilliant and deadly. And she had Emily.

“Where’s my baby?”

“Get to work. I need that book.”

Jane’s cold voice sent chills through Sunny. “I don’t know anything about a book.”

Jane bared her teeth in a sneer. “Then you’d better get started.” She looked at her watch. “I have to leave by six o’clock. Ed is appearing at a town meeting. If you haven’t found the book by then, well…” She shrugged.

“What about Emily?”

“That’s up to you. Find the book in time, and you might get to see your kid.”

…before you die
. Sunny filled in the unspoken words. They didn’t have the power to frighten her anymore. She knew Jane was going to kill her.

“Swear to me that Emily is safe.”

“Oh please.” Jane rolled her eyes. “Your kid is fine. I’m not a monster.”

Yes you are.

Monsters came in all shapes and sizes. All Sunny could do was pray that Jane was telling the truth about
Emily. Hope was all she had. She’d cling to it as long as she could.

“What kind of book is it?”

“It has names. Dates,” Jane said. “Like a diary.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

Jane pushed her hair back in the same gesture that Griff had caught on film. “Hell if I know. Just find it.”

Sunny surveyed the large living room. The police and the EMTs had made a mess. Furniture was pushed aside. Fingerprint dust coated everything. From TV, Sunny knew the paper curls were the backing of fingerprint tape.

Half of the room was set up as a children’s play area. A big walnut desk nearby held a portable TV and a computer.

“Maybe the desk?”

Jane coughed and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Fine by me.” She manipulated a lighter with her deformed left hand and took a long drag.

The smell of cigarette smoke drifted toward Sunny as she sat down in the wooden desk chair and pulled out the center drawer. The wheels on the chair squeaked as she moved.

Jane paced in front of the windows, smoking and clicking the safety of the gun on and off, on and off,
on and off.

THE CLICK OF THE GUN’S SAFETY echoed in Sunny’s head like the ticking of a clock as she searched frantically. She’d been bent over the huge desk for what felt like hours, as Jane smoked and coughed and paced. The cavernous drawers were filled with a lifetime of receipts, letters, tax records. It appeared that Bess had
kept everything in the desk. Sunny had long since decided that whatever “the book” was, it wasn’t in the desk. But she was afraid to stop looking.

“You don’t have much time,” Jane said.

But Sunny barely heard her. Her attention was on something she’d just glimpsed in the bottom of the far right drawer, behind a row of files. She bent over and reached into the depths of the drawer. Her fingers touched fine-grained leather.

Her pulse drummed in her temple. It was a pocketsize journal.
Was this the book?

She dug out a handful of files and sat them on top of the desk, alongside a mountain of papers.

She wanted to grab the journal, shove it in Jane’s face and demand to see Emily.

But Jane was a liar. As soon as she had the book, she’d kill Sunny.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Sunny composed her face before she looked over her shoulder. “Yes. This is the last drawer.”

Jane dropped a cigarette and crushed it on the hardwood floor. “That’s it. You’re useless. Get up.”

“But I’m almost done. It could be in here. Give me a few more minutes, please.”

Jane lifted the gun. “I said—” She stopped and cocked her head.
She’d heard something.

Sunny tensed, trying to hear what Jane had heard.

Was it Griff? A fierce, burning hope blossomed in her chest. She hadn’t dared to believe he’d find her in time. It was hard enough sustaining the faint hope that she would see Emily again.

She’d told herself it was enough that he’d been there
for her when she’d needed his strength. That he’d allowed her to use him for safety and shelter. For love.

Before she had time to explore her thought, she heard the rattle of keys. Someone was unlocking the back door.

Jane crossed the living room in two strides and flattened herself against the wall between the living room and dining room, her attention focused on the footsteps coming toward them.

Sunny bent slightly, holding her breath and praying that the chair wouldn’t creak. She managed to grasp the leather journal with two fingers. She lifted it slowly, never taking her eyes off Jane. When she shifted to slide it into the pocket of her slacks, the wheels squawked loudly.

Jane turned the gun on her for an instant, a hard glint in her eyes.

The message was clear.
Stay put or you’re dead.

Sunny swallowed, then nodded.

GRIFF AND SPARKS, along with several backup black-and-whites, headed toward Bess’s house.

Sparks had just hung up from talking to the New Rochelle police, and Griff was on the phone to Natasha, who had been in touch with the photo-analyst.

“Hart said he couldn’t positively identify Jane Gross from your photograph,” Natasha said. “But he did say he could state under oath that the facial characteristics, build and other identifying features were consistent with hers. He also said the woman in your photo does have a deformity of her left hand.”

“Can you verify that Jane Gross has a similar problem?”

“Already done. We have eyewitness testimony from
people who know her. And her fingerprints are on file, because of her husband’s campaign.”

“What about the husband?”

“He’s cooperating with the New Rochelle police. He is adamant that his wife is visiting her mother in Springfield.”

“Yeah?”

“Mrs. Roe is in a nursing home, paid for by her daughter. The daughter hasn’t visited her in over two years. Jane’s been lying to hubby.”

“What about Bess Raymond? And her daughter?”

“Right. Adopted. I found the records. The papers were drawn up by a Hiram Cogburn, and executed by a lawyer in Philadelphia. Mia Raymond was supposedly a foundling. Her birth certificate was created after the fact.”

“We’re almost there,” Sparks said.

“Okay, Natasha. Thanks.”

“Griff, Ed Gross said there’s a town meeting tonight. Jane promised him she’d be there.”

“What time?”

“Seven o’clock. He said she’s never missed a political event. She’s always by his side.”

“Thanks.” Griff disconnected. “We’ve got a problem,” he told Sparks. “Jane is due back in New Rochelle by seven o’clock.”

“That’s a good hour and a half drive.”

Griff looked at his watch and cursed. “It’s five now.”

Sunny.
God he hoped he wasn’t too late. According to Bess, the book she asked Mia to retrieve was a journal. It contained evidence of all the children Jane had stolen and brought to Bess to care for over the years.

He was gambling everything that Jane had kidnapped
Sunny, and had brought her to Bess’s house to find the book. If he was wrong, he’d just condemned her and her daughter to death.

“Don’t approach the place directly. Park on the next street where the cigarette butts were found, and walk through the common area. If anyone is at the house I don’t want to alert them.”

Sparks nodded, reaching for his radio mic. He directed the backup officers to turn on Edgar Street, parallel to Bergen, and park out of sight of Bess Raymond’s house.

Griff pulled out his gun and checked it, working to keep his emotions under control. He couldn’t stop picturing Sunny, her eyes wide and trusting.

Please let me keep my promise this time,
he prayed.

As soon as Sparks stopped the car, Griff was out.

Sparks stopped him in front of the car. “Wait for backup,” he said.

Griff shook his head. “There’s no time.”

“Son, I’m ordering you—”

Griff leveled his gaze at the police captain. “Sorry, sir, you don’t have the authority.”

Sparks frowned, but said nothing more.

Griff picked his way through the trees and undergrowth until he could see Bess’s house.

Was Sunny in there? Was she still alive?

SUNNY WATCHED the darkened archway that connected the living room with the dining room in horrified fascination. The light, cautious footsteps came closer and closer.

Jane had flattened her back against the shadows by
the door. She shifted and a glimmer of late-afternoon sunlight flashed off the barrel of her gun.

Sunny held her breath. She wanted to cry out—to warn whoever was about to walk into Jane’s trap.

Jane glanced at her then back at the door. To Sunny’s surprise, she slipped the gun into the big patch pocket of her volunteer jacket.

A muffled sound reached Sunny’s ears. It was a baby’s cry.
It was Emily!

All the blood drained from her head and she felt faint. Her throat clogged with tears, her heart swelled with relief and joy even as fear stole her breath.

Was this what Jane had meant when she’d tantalized Sunny with the possibility of seeing Emily again? Was this part of Jane’s plan?

At that instant a teenage girl holding an infant carrier stepped through the doorway, her eyes wide with terror.

“Hello, Mia,” Jane said.

The girl started and whirled. Her knuckles went white as bones where she gripped the carrier’s handles.

“Emily,” Sunny croaked, trying to see the baby in the carrier.

The girl’s head jerked toward her, then back to Jane. “Aunt Janie? What’s going on?”

“It’s all right, Mia.”

“My mother’s in the hospital. Someone shot her. She told me—”

Mia wasn’t in on it. Relief flowed through Sunny. She had to see Emily. She rose and started toward her.

“Stop!” Jane’s hand went to her pocket. “Don’t move another inch.”

“Who—” Mia started.

“I’m Emily’s mother.”

“Watch it, Loveless.” Jane’s eyes never left Sunny as she spoke to Mia. “Mia, honey, set the baby down.”

“What are you doing, Aunt Janie?” Mia didn’t move.

Sunny couldn’t tear her eyes away from the carrier. She could see Emily’s little arms waving, hear her familiar whimper.

Sunny knew that cry. Her daughter was hungry. Anguish and longing tore at her.

“Please,” she begged.

Mia’s big dark eyes met hers and although the room was too dark to see much more than a silhouette, Sunny had an odd sense of déjà vu.

Jane looked at her watch. “Well, time’s up and I don’t have the book.”

“Mia,” Sunny said brokenly, “take Emily outside.”

“No!” Jane moved her hand in her pocket, and Sunny knew the gun was pointed directly at her.

She swallowed her tears and straightened. “Yes,” she said, slowly sliding the leather journal from her slacks.

Jane’s eyes glittered.

“I’ve got your book, Jane.”

“That’s my mother’s book.” Mia started forward. “She told me to come and get it.”

“Mia, don’t,” Sunny cried.

Jane moved so quickly that Sunny barely realized what she was doing. She snaked her arm around Mia’s neck and pulled the gun from her pocket.

“Aunt—”

Jane tightened her hold.

Sunny froze. “Don’t hurt them. It’s me you want.”
She held out the book. “Let Mia take Emily and leave. Then you and I can…settle up.”

“I don’t have time for this. I have a town meeting tonight,” Jane snarled. “I’ll have to drive like hell to get back in time. Give me the damn book.”

Sunny wondered if there was any reason to stall. If Mia could get Emily away without either of them being harmed, that should be enough. But somehow it wasn’t.

Emily deserved a mother who was brave enough to fight for her. And God help her, Sunny didn’t want to die without holding her daughter one more time, or seeing Griff.

Something tickled at the edge of her mind. Something that might have been important had she not been facing a loaded gun.

“Jane, you can have the book, as soon as you let them go.” She held the journal up so it caught the sun’s rays shining through the window.

Jane coughed. “Go wait for me in the other room, Mia.”

Mia stared wide-eyed at Sunny.

“Go,” Sunny said, hoping Mia had sense enough to keep going, right out to her car. “Take Emily and go.”

Jane let go of the girl and pushed her out of the way.

Mia bent and picked up Emily’s infant carrier, then disappeared through the door, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floors. Sunny’s heart shattered. She swallowed a sob.

“Give it to me.”

“First, tell me what I did to you.”

Jane laughed, a harsh sound that ended in a cough. “I don’t have time for the TV show wrap-up. Sorry. Besides, if you’re too dumb to know—”

Sunny played to Jane’s arrogance. “Then shoot me. But I think you have the wrong person. I’ve never even met you.”

“How can the world be so full of stupid people? You went to see Eddie. You got him all upset about that girl.”

“
That girl
is your child.”

“Oh please. Now you sound like Eddie.”

“Eddie wanted his daughter, didn’t he?” Sunny knew she was treading on dangerous ground. But she had nothing to lose. Jane was going to kill her anyway. If she could keep her talking long enough for Mia to get Emily to safety…

“Eddie’s a sentimental old fool. I’m about to make him a congressman. And now you show up and ruin everything. You already had old Mabry stirred up. He’d totally forgotten about us until you started asking your questions.”

“I don’t understand.”

Jane rolled her eyes and took two steps forward, pointing the gun at Sunny’s heart. “Mabry knew the date we left. When you mentioned the date to Eddie, I knew you’d figured it all out.”