Safe and Sound (11 page)

“Damn it, Jack,” she said. “I won’t leave you because my ex can’t handle the idea of us being together.”

“I know you won’t,” he said. “So that’s why I’m the one pulling the plug.”

They looked at each other in silence for a few moments. The buzzing of Keller’s cell phone sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet. He pulled it off his belt, looked at the caller ID, then at Marie. “It’s Tammy Healy,” he said. He flipped the phone open.

“Keller,” he said.

“Jack,” she said, “are you still in town?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m at Marie’s.” He looked at Marie. “Her ex just came in here with an emergency court order and took her son.”

There was a moment’s pause. “Damn,” Healy said, “Everything always happens at goddamn once.” She sighed. “Okay,” she said. “Does she want an appointment this afternoon?”

Keller pulled the phone away from his ear. “You want to see Tammy Healy this afternoon?” Marie looked doubtful. “You’re going to need a lawyer to fight this,” Keller said. “Even I’m not stupid enough to walk into a courtroom armed with nothing but the truth.”

Marie nodded. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” Keller said into the phone.

“Fine,” Healy said. “And I need to see you, too. Something’s happened in the Fedder case.”

“What?” Keller said.

“I’ll talk to you when you get here,” Healy said. “One hour.” She hung up.

“She’ll see us in an hour,” Keller said.

Marie looked puzzled. “Us?” she said.

“She wanted to see me, too,” he told her. “Something about the Fedder case.”

“I thought she was off that,” Marie said.

“She said something had happened.”

“If it was something that made her drop everything so she could see you in an hour,” Marie said, “it must be something major.”

***

A few blocks away, DeGroot sat in his car at the curb, watching the big pickup truck go past. He caught a glimpse of a child’s blond head in the passenger seat. He had circled the block after watching the truck pull in. No one had noticed him because of the argument going on in the yard. He had pulled away and parked a short distance up the street.

I scheme poor old Lundgren isn’t the only one with family problems, he thought. He pulled out and followed the truck, keeping a discreet distance. The truck wound its way through the residential streets, onto the main drag. Eventually, it turned into the parking lot of a Motel 6. DeGroot made a note of the room they stopped in front of before he exited the parking lot. He looked down, noticed the gas
gauge. Nearly empty. He found a gas station and pulled up to the pump. As he filled the tank of the rental, he thought over what he had seen.

The big blond fellow and the woman with the child—Jones—work for the lawyer, he thought. The blond fellow and Jones are involved somehow. Maybe that’s why the other man took the child? A jealous husband? But why didn’t he leave? Puzzling. But, he decided, not what I came here to find out. I need to know what was going on with Lundgren. It has something to do with his child. And the one who knows that is…The gas pumped clunked and shut off. The lawyer. He slotted the nozzle back into its holder and waited for the credit card receipt. Time to pay a visit to the lawyer.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Thanks, Cindy,” Tamara Healy said to the young blond behind the desk as she came out of her office. “I’ll see Mr. Keller first. Marie, would you like a cup of coffee while you wait?”

Marie shook her head wordlessly. She still had a look of devastation on her face. Healy walked over and crouched beside her chair. “It’s going to be okay, hon,” she said softly, taking Marie’s hand. “We’re going to do everything we can for you.”

Marie nodded, still not speaking. Keller followed Healy as she stood up and walked into her office. She seated herself behind a large, expensive-looking oak desk and motioned Keller to an equally expensive-looking chair. She spoke before he was fully seated.

“I’ve gotten a call regarding Alyssa Fedder,” she said.

“From who?” Keller asked.

“The people that have her,” Healy said tonelessly.

Keller rubbed his chin. “You call the cops?”

She shook her head. “They made it very clear I was not to do that. They said they’d know if I did and no one would ever see Alyssa Fedder again.”

“So,” Keller said, “why tell me?” He was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy about the answer.

“They want to turn the girl back over to me. They gave me directions to a place near where they say they have her. It’s in the mountains.”

“So go,” Keller said. “Or take your chances, call the cops and let them go.”

She shook her head again. “I’m not stupid, Jack. I’m not going up there by myself, in the middle of nowhere, with men I’ve never seen. I’ve been called a lot of things, most of them ending in ‘bitch’, but I don’t think anyone thinks I’m that crazy.” She picked up a pack of cigarettes. Her hands trembled as she took one out and lit it. She offered the pack to Keller. He thought for a moment, then took it.

“I’ve been trying to quit,” she said.

“Probably a good idea.”

“So?” She took a long drag on the cigarette.

“I’ll go,” he said. “That’s what you’ve been leading up to, right?”

She nodded, looking surprised. “I thought I’d have to talk you into it.”

“There’s a condition,” he said.

She blew out a long stream of smoke and grinned at him. “If it’s sexual favors, honey, you had me at hello.”

“Thanks,” he said, “I’ll keep it in mind. But it’s about Marie.”

She turned serious. “You want me to take her case. For free?”

“No,” he said. “She’ll figure that out and she’ll never accept it. But she’s practically broke. Keep the price low, and let her pay it off over time. She’ll do it.”

“I know she will,” Healy said. “You’d do this for her?”

“Yeah,” Keller said.

Her smile this time was wistful. “Why couldn’t I have met you fifteen years ago?”

“Because I was a complete head case,” Keller said. “And I wouldn’t lay odds that I’m not headed that way again. Now, how are we going to keep these guys from knowing I’m there?”

“They know you’re coming,” she said. “I told them I was scared to come alone. I wanted someone with me. I brought up your name, and they said okay. Seems they know you from TV.”

Keller grimaced. “Great,” he said.

“Well, they know for sure you’re not a cop. And they know your face.”

He rubbed his chin. “No way are these guys professional criminals,” he said. “Pros would never agree to something like that. I figure it’s Lundgren’s buddies. Powell and Riggio. Lundgren took the girl and left her with them. Now Lundgren’s dead, they want to get rid of her. Fast.” He looked back at Healy. “He’s their buddy’s daughter,” he said. “I don’t think they’re going to hurt her. Or you.”

“I want you there anyway,” she said. “If I bring the cops, they might run. I need to get that little girl back.”

“Does Carly Fedder know what you’re doing for her?” Keller asked.

“Not all of it,” she said. “She just knows I’m working on something. She’s sitting tight. She won’t go to the cops.”

“And when you get the girl back,” Keller said, “you’re going to hand her over to her mother.” His voice was expressionless.

“Yeah,” Healy said. “I am. Because that’s the only choice, Jack. Her father’s dead. Who else do you suggest giving her to?”

“I’m just saying,” Keller said, “You need to keep an eye on your client. Otherwise…” He stopped.

There was a pause. “Otherwise what?” Healy said.

Keller took a deep breath. “Otherwise that kid could end up like me,” he said.

“There are worse things to be,” Healy said gently.

“Maybe,” he said, “but I wouldn’t want to meet any.” He stood up. “Can I send Marie in?” he said.

She stood up and took a folded piece of paper out of her desk drawer. “These are the directions to the meeting,” she said. It’s at seven p.m. tomorrow, but it’s a long drive. Get some sleep and meet me here at noon.”

“Okay,” he said. See you then.”

As Keller reached the door, she spoke again. “You know, Jack,” she said, “she’s lucky to have you.”

“No, she isn’t,” Keller said. “I’ve cost her her kid. And if I keep seeing her, that’s going to be permanent. So I need to step out of the picture.”

“You care about her that much?” Healy said.

“Yeah,” Keller replied.

“That’s what I mean,” she said. “Lucky.” She sighed. “Send her in.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Working late, DeGroot thought. The law-office parking lot was mostly deserted, with only one car left.

DeGroot had watched as the staff filtered out and went home. He hadn’t seen the Healy woman leave, so it was a safe bet that the office light burning in the window was hers. You have to admire that kind of dedication, he thought. He parked in the tiny gravel lot behind the old house and got out. He had changed into a nondescript workman’s coverall, blue ball cap pulled down over his eyes. He opened the trunk and pulled out a large toolbox.

DeGroot had bought the coverall and the box at a Home Depot, but most of the tools inside were his own. The gravel crunched under his feet as he affected a weary trudge toward the back door, like a repairman called out late and unhappy about it.

***

“That little shit,” Tamara Healy muttered as she read over the court papers one more time. “Abuse and neglect, my ass.”\

She knew the lawyer on the other side. He’d say exactly what he needed to say to get the emergency custody order, and allegations of abuse were the biggest trump card of all. No judge would turn down a request for an order if there was a chance of actual abuse; no judge would take the risk involved. It had become depressingly routine for lawyers to throw in abuse allegations, and then, once the complaining parent had actual physical possession of the child, to dismiss them
before being called on to prove them. At that point, the lawyer’s argument would simply be that the plaintiff was the better parent, as shown by the fact that the child (who was suddenly the total center of attention) was healthy and happy in the plaintiff’s care. And it didn’t hurt that, by the time of the hearing, the parent from whom the child was snatched would usually be an emotional wreck, liable to blurt out anything on the stand. Marie Jones was no exception.

Healy sat back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. She had accepted working nights and weekends as the consequence of being a domestic lawyer, and most of the time she could insulate herself from the emotional ups and downs. But she couldn’t help liking Marie Jones. She knew from the way Jones spoke of her son that the woman was a good mother, and she didn’t deserve what she’d been through.

Healy ground out her cigarette in the ashtray. She thought about Jack Keller. He had gotten to her as well. It wasn’t just that he was good-looking, although he was certainly that. But there was an intensity about him that both thrilled and scared her at the same time. There’d be no half measures with that one, she mused. She shook her head. No use wondering about it, she thought. He’s off limits. For a lot of reasons. She picked up her pen and started working on her notes for her cross-examination. Marie had given her a lot of information about her ex to work with, and if Healy could drop the right bombs at the right time, she was reasonably sure she could get Marie her child back.

There was a sound from outside her door. She looked up and frowned. She thought everyone had gone home.

“Hello?” she called out. There was no answer. She got up and walked out into the front office. It was dark except for the dim illumination of her legal assistant’s computer monitor. “Hello?” she said again. She heard a sound behind her. Before she could start to turn, a damp rag was clamped over her face and mouth. An arm snaked around her throat to hold her fast. There was a strong gagging chemical scent in her nose and throat from what ever the rag was soaked in. She struggled against the restraint, but the darkness closed in on her, overwhelmed her, and took her down.

She came back to consciousness slowly. She couldn’t seem to open her eyes. She tried to lift her hands to rub her eyes, but the effort sent a lightning bolt of pain shrieking through her wrists and up her arms. The pain shocked her back to partial consciousness. Her eyes snapped open.

She was looking down at the top of her desk. Her hands were resting on the desktop. There was blood on them.

Why do I have blood on my hands? she thought muzzily.

She tried to move her hands again, but the pain nearly sent her back into unconsciousness. It was then she noticed the small silver discs that protruded slightly from the tops of her wrists.

Her hands had been nailed to the desk.

She tried to scream, but there was something blocking her mouth, something sticky. Her mouth had been sealed with duct tape. She felt a hand grab her hair and pull her head back.

“None of that, now,” a strangely accented voice whispered in her ear. “When you’re ready to be a good stukkie and tell me what I need to know, then the tape comes off. Tune me grief and try to scream, and it stays right where it is, you check?” She could only moan in terror. He gave her a savage shake by her hair. “I said, you check?” She nodded frantically, not sure of what he meant, but terrified into agreement.