Stealth Moves (18 page)

“It was too late to call. Glad you enjoyed your overnight, though. Did you go shopping?” Holly asked, nodding at the box.

Shaking her head, Catherine lifted the cardboard lid and pushed away yellowed tissue paper. “This is Timothy.” She held up an antique baby boy doll with straw-blond hair and emerald eyes. He wore a red tartan cap, coat and trousers. “He’s been staying with my friend, Karen, but she’s moving to Arizona, and—”

“That’s the doll I saw in the baby carriage the day Ari was kidnapped!” Liv cried.

“It’s not. This is that doll’s twin. The other—James—belonged to Linda Tinsley before it was left in the park.”

“But…but…” Liv sputtered.

“Let me explain.” Catherine set Timothy on the counter. “The caregiver who stayed with me while you were in Portsmouth said she works for the Tinsleys on weekdays but she expects to be fired. I was surprised. Marisol is a pleasant, young woman, so I asked why. She told me Linda Tinsley insisted she take the James doll for a walk, and Marisol left it in the park.

“It seems Linda has gone a little funny in the head,” Catherine observed sadly. “I suppose tragedy and spending one’s life in bed can do that to a person. At any rate, Marisol was on that outing for Linda at Commonwealth Mall when your friend disappeared.”

Excited, Liv asked, “Did she see the kidnapper? What about Teddy? She was throwing sticks for him. Did she talk about Teddy?”

“She didn’t mention a dog. Marisol wasn’t facing the street, but she heard the fuss after you realized Ariel was gone. She panicked because of immigration problems. Rather than face police questioning, she left the doll and carriage. If Linda learns James is gone, she’ll accuse Marisol of theft.”

“This Marisol must have seen something,” Holly said. “A detective should interview her.”

“She swears she didn’t. Marisol can’t help with the search for the missing children, but I’d like to help her. If I give her Timothy, Linda Tinsley may believe it’s her James doll, and Marisol will keep her job.”

“Who’s Linda?” Holly asked. “I’ve only heard about Karina.”

“Linda is Karina’s mother. She’s put on so much weight, she’s bedridden.”

Liv looked at the doll. Since she knew it wasn’t a baby, it didn’t scare her like the one in the park. It was kind of cute. “You don’t see boy dolls too often.”

“Exactly my thought when I spotted him in Linda’s home. Your grandfather and I were at a party there—oh…it must be twelve years ago. I took a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and wound up in this marvelous doll room, like the toy shop of a child’s dream. I stood there gaping, and then Linda came in.

“Well, of course, I felt embarrassed to be caught snooping, but Linda was eager to show me her collection. We discussed dolls for a bit—I have the antiques in your room, Liv, plus a few of my favorites from childhood. Thank you, Jen,” Catherine said when Mrs. Barnes set a plate of pancakes in front of her. “A cup of coffee, too, please?”

She picked up the doll. “Linda’s collection included a set of twins, nearly alike but with subtle differences. Timothy was slightly blonder. Myron was such a towhead as a tiny child, the doll reminded me of him.” She turned to Liv, her expression soft and wistful. “And then Linda
gave
me
Timothy. Imagine!

“I declined, of course. Told her I couldn’t break up a set, couldn’t accept such a precious gift, but Linda was adamant. She had twin boys, she said, so why did she need twin dolls?

“I took the doll.” Catherine stroked his face. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

Placing Timothy back in his box, she added, “Later, when I had time to research dolls of this sort, I learned what they actually were. This is an effigy doll.”

“Like voodoo?” Liv asked.

“No black magic—but there is a macabre element. Effigy dolls were made to commemorate dead children. Before photography, portraits of babies were rare. When infants passed away, all grieving parents could do was have dolls made as reminders of their lost ones.”

“So sad.” Mrs. Barnes set down a mug.

“It is.” Catherine sipped her coffee. “When I looked at the doll, I felt sadness and…” She lowered her eyes. “…a bit superstitious, too. Timothy resembled Myron, and Timothy died young. It seemed like a bad omen. I wanted to return the doll to Linda, but the timing was wrong. Not long after, her son Brandon was struck and killed by a car. Returning Timothy then could have been painful for her. My friend Trish took Timothy, but now, I think he should go back to Linda.”

“Speaking of Myron, uh, Mike,” Holly said to Catherine, “I’d like a word with you.”

“Sorry, dear. Won’t have a moment to spare until later this afternoon. There’s this new security problem, and I’ve so much left to do arranging the rally and concert. We couldn’t get the band shell on the Charles, so we’ll have to work miracles creating a stage at the Common. Now they’re saying it may rain, which means finding some way to shelter the performers and their equipment. On Friday, I’ll be biting my nails to the quick, hoping I haven’t forgotten something essential.”

“Grandmother! You’re coming to the concert? You
never
go out in public.”

“This new medicine I’m taking gives me courage. I only fell asleep once while I was visiting my friends, and that was during the first movie.”

“What kind of movie?” Mrs. Barnes asked.

“Rom com. I forgot the name.”

Mrs. Barnes said, “Those things put
me
to sleep.”

After breakfast, Holly urged Liv to hurry so they could get to the gym. Maddy had signed her up for a guest pass like Liv.

“Nice of your friend to let me work out, too,” Holly said while Liv picked up her purse. “I thought all cool kids were mean.”

“Not these,” Liv said. “Ari’s the leader, and she hates when people are put down. Says it happens to Jews all the time. She won’t be friends with bullies.”

“Ari sounds like a good person,” Holly said. “Ready?”

Liv’s phone pinged twice. “Wait. Let me read the texts.”

The first was from Cam. Day off. Parkour demo and jam at B’ton govt ctr. 2 pm. Come?

Chase sent the other. Meeting. Hero team. Noon. My house.

Liv pocketed her phone. What to do? Here the two hottest guys she knew wanted to see her—
her!
—at nearly the same time. Then the solution dawned. “Uh, there’s a meeting at Chase’s house. You can drop me off there like last time. Don’t wait around. I’ll be tied up most of the day.”

When Holly nodded, and then strode toward the gym like a barn-sour horse rushing home, Liv had to work hard not to shriek with joy. She’d have her afternoon with Chase
and
Cam—and no Holly as babysitter. Freedom, at last!

Day 10—Monday

“Stealth woke eye to eye with a superhero—Brandon’s pillowcase, Brandon’s bed. His laptop sat open on the night table, running a webcam view of someone’s terrace. The camera angle was high, ten or twelve feet above the flagstones. A girl in a sweat suit stood watching a white dog—that dog? —take a dump in the corner. “I hate that dog,” he muttered. When the girl turned, Stealth wasn’t surprised by the face of Olivia Smallwood. Then the scene cut back to her watching the dog. The video was on a loop.

“BRANDON!” Stealth bellowed. Only his twin could hear him. Their domain was the fourth floor; the Momster and her aide were on the third, too far away to be a problem.

No answer. “Damn it, you little prick, stop hiding! What the hell have you done now?”

Brandon’s gloating voice said, Last night, I sneaked over to Olivia’s house—Man! Not easy to get in there and set up the camera. A dude nearly caught me at it. He chased me away, but I holed up until things were quiet so I could be sure the view was right. Then I moved the dog shit mat in front of the redhead’s door! Brandon laughed.

Stealth swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood. Pain shot up his leg. He sat down. “What happened to our ankle?”

Strain or sprain. I broke a fence last night. Our hand might hurt a little, too. It’s scraped.

Stealth inspected his raw left palm. He tapped the fingers of his right on the night table. Everything should have gone well today. The nurse’s aide was back, relieving Brandon of Momster duties, freeing Stealth to do his work with the collection. The boy was an inspiration, got his creative juices flowing.

That’s not all he gets flowing, Brandon broke in.

“What are we to do with you, Brandon?”

You should ask what I’m going to do about you. I like getting out whenever I want.

“But we have things to accomplish,” Stealth argued calmly, though his heart was pounding. “Stealth needs you to cooperate for a while—just a little while longer. Later, you can have all the time on your own you want.”

Liar! You don’t mean it.

Stealth sat in silence until he remembered, “This Friday, we’ll have the money Karina wants. She’ll be off our back.”

If everything goes right. What if it doesn’t? We need a backup plan. What about Olivia? We could collect her.

“Karina said she’s only worth money if her grandmother dies.”

Old ladies have accidents.

“No time for distractions. The suits paying for the weapons are impatient. They want a progress report today. Have to meet them at the café. They’re pushing for a test.”

But I want Olivia, Brandon persisted. She has the day off school. I want to see her.

“Are you getting hung up on this chick?” Stealth asked incredulously.

Maybe.

“Doesn’t sound like you. I mean you like girls, yeah, but one girl in particular? That’s different.”

I want lots of things to be different, more grown up. Like this room. It’s a little kid’s room. I go to bars now. I don’t need comic book hero posters on the wall.

Stealth looked around. “Everything’s just the way you left it.”

I want some hot babes to look at.

“The Momster would never allow it.”

She can’t get out of bed! How’s she supposed to find out?

Stealth sighed. “Brandon…”

All right, all right. You pick your posters; I’ll pick mine, but I have to get out this afternoon. Have to! Make it quick with the weapons guys. Don’t take all day.

“We’re so close to finishing. Forget about an outing.” Stealth shut the laptop.

Silence. “Brandon?” More silence. “Okay, be that way!”

Testing his leg, Stealth found he could put weight on the ankle if he limped. There was surgical tape in the Momster’s sitting room—
where she never sat
, he thought with a smirk. The space was half hospital supply, half aide lounge. Stealth avoided the entire third floor, and yet, he needed to go there. He had to risk it, but only when he was ready.

Stealth unwrapped fresh bars of soap for his shower. He shaved neat edges around his goatee. In the closet, he unsealed a clean shirt and the plastic bag containing his ill-fitting business clothes: a jacket too big, trousers too short. He’d bought them online because he wouldn’t go to a clothing store where people tried on garments and then left them there for him to put near his skin. Shuddering, Stealth pulled his tie too tight, gasped, and released the knot.

He wasn’t thinking clearly.

He was afraid.

The third floor awaited him.

When he got there, the smell of human waste, chemicals and medicines seeping through the Momster’s closed door made him gag. Tiptoeing away from the servants’ stairs, he thought about bolting toward the master staircase—to be somewhere clean with fresh air—but he needed the tape to wrap his ankle before he walked to the café. A few steps more, just a few…

“Mr. Tinsley!” the aide’s voice said, startling Stealth so he flinched, putting too much pressure on the sore ankle. Stifling a groan, he glowered at Marisol. She cringed, but she kept on talking. “Your mother, she say to find you. She want to talk.”

“Tell her Brandon’s busy.”

“She say no Mr. Brandon. She want Mr. Brent.” The aide looked puzzled. “There are two of you? How come I not know this?”

Stealth peered into the sitting room. “Where’s the tape?” He pointed to his ankle. “This hurts.”

“Ah, I get for you. You go see your mother now, yes?”

“Things are going on in this house,” the Momster began. “Don’t think I’m oblivious. I want an explanation.”

Stealth’s hands sweated inside his leather gloves. Even breathing through his mouth, the smells were getting to him. He couldn’t keep this up long; he had to escape.

He focused on a spot between her eyebrows. If he concentrated on that spot, he wouldn’t think about what lay under the sheet. The Momster didn’t wear clothes because no clothes fit her. She lived naked as a walrus except for diapers. “What are you talking about?”

“Noises at night. A female voice.” She wagged a sausage-sized finger at his face. “Brent, are you bringing women here for sex?”

Appalled, he clapped a hand to his chest. “No!”

“Is Brandon?”

Staring into her eyes now, Stealth said, “Brandon’s dead.”

The doughy folds of the Momster’s face swayed when she shook her head. “We both know he’s still with us. Why, I see Brandon nearly every day. Such a sweet, innocent boy, he’s far too young for women. You have to protect him, guard him—certainly better than you did on that awful day. You remember that day?” Her eyes shrank to slits. “I won’t be around forever, you know. It’s up to you to take care of Brandon.”

Stealth nodded. “Brandon needs this house. Don’t sell it.” He looked above the oversized hospital bed to the frilly, pink half-tester canopy. How long had it been since that was cleaned? There was pink silk nearly everywhere. And gold. The Momster liked gilded furniture. “You need this house, too. We customized it for you. A hospital wouldn’t be nice.”

“Karina says I have to go. She says I’ll die. She says—”

“Karina’s only thinking of herself.”

“Not true! She worries about me—unlike you. I hardly ever see you. What do you do with yourself all day?”

“Study. Conduct research.”

“On what?”

“Physics, engineering, biology—different things.”

“And that’s your excuse for not visiting me? Karina, who has an important job, spends more time with me than you do!”

Stealth looked at the forehead again, wondering how much longer this would go on. His stomach was queasy.