Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (14 page)

She pulled her chair next to him. The cologne he wore had faded, but she’d bet if they were skin to skin she could—

Don’t torture yourself
. But she had been—all afternoon. When she hadn’t been regretting their argument and all of the wrong things she’d said, she had been fantasizing about how satisfying make-up sex would be. And they had plenty of making-up to do.

She cleared her throat, and made sure to keep her leg and arm from brushing his. Being near Dante and not being able to touch him the way she used to, was like having a kilo of cocaine on the table and telling an addict, “Hands off.” She scooted her bottom and distanced herself from him as much as possible, hopefully without looking obvious. Where Dante was concerned, she
was
addicted—to his touch and his kisses. “I didn’t realize you were going to say anything to Rachel,” she finally said.

“I told you the case interested me. When I got back to the office, I gave Rachel the name of the brand of stroller the kids were found in and asked her to see where this particular model was sold.” He looked at the first page in the file. “Rachel noted—with a smiley face—that having a serial number would be helpful. She says for this brand, it’s located on a sticker on the lower right frame of the stroller, just above the wheel.” He flipped to the next page. “Looks like the first eight digits of the serial code indicate the model year.” He moved to the next page. “Interesting.”

Curious and confident she could handle brushing against him without acting like a bitch in heat, she leaned in to take a better look. “There’s nothing but Walmart stores listed.” She reached across the table and turned the laptop to face her. After opening another browser, she typed in the Walmart website and did a search for Roll-Baby umbrella strollers. “There it is, and look. It’s only sold in select stores and says the product is not available online. At eleven ninety-nine, it’s cheap, too.”

She reached across the table again and grabbed her cell phone. After she sat back down, she opened up her investigation file and found the phone number for the Iowa detective who had posted about the Lamoni boy.

“What are you doing?” Dante asked when she dialed the number.

“I’m going to see if I can get this detective to give us the serial number of the stroller. Then I’m going to check with Shreveport, Blythe and New Brunswick PD to see if they could do the same.”

“
A
, other than Lamoni PD, it’s a long shot the others will still have the stroller.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” she asked, and sent the call through. “They found the boys, but not the kidnapper. Those cases might now be considered cold, but they’re still unsolved.”

“
B
,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “this Lamoni detective is going to want to know
why
you’re investigating his case.”

“I’m a cop. It’s my job.”

“A job you didn’t bother showing up for today. What if this detective checks you out and contacts your boss?”

“So what?”

“Do you want your boss to know that you’re playing hooky from work in order to run side investigations?”

Damn it, no
. She handed him her cell phone. “Here, you do it then.”

“So it’s okay if
my
boss gives me a hard time?” he asked with a wry grin, and took the phone.

“Please, Ian loves you.” With the trust Ian placed in Dante, she’d guarantee—in Ian’s mind—her husband could do no wrong. Ian was right to do so. Dante had a strong sense of duty and, no matter the cost, had always finished what he’d started. She glanced to the wedding band he still wore, ignored it before she began to over analyze why he hadn’t removed it and added, “Besides, CORE has no jurisdictions. You’re right, if I speak to the detective it’ll end up being chalked up as a courtesy call and I’ll be out of the loop.” She thought about her word choice. “I mean,
we
will be out of the loop.”

“It’s easier to attract flies with honey,” he said, his eyes probing. “What’s the detective’s name?”

She quickly looked at her notes. “Phil Walters.”

“It’s still ringing. I’m probably going to get his voice—” He held up a finger. “Yes, Detective Walters,” he said, and put her phone on speaker. “I’m Dante Russo and I work for a criminal investigation agency called CORE. I came across your Attempt to Identify bulletin and think I have a connection.”

“No sh— I mean, no kidding,” the detective said, his excitement evident. “You know who the kid is?”

“Sorry, no.”

Walters sighed. “So what’s your connection?”

She listened intently as Dante told the detective about the previous three missing children cases, and had to admit, having Dante make the call was the best choice. CORE didn’t have to worry about jurisdiction. Because they were a private agency, Ian could have his agents anywhere at any time.
She
, on the other hand, was confined to Chicago.

“Holy hell. I had no idea,” the detective said. “I’ll grab that serial number off the stroller and call you back with it.”

“Wait,” she said before Walters disconnected the call. “The boy, has he said anything about who had been taking care of him? You know—”

“I’m sorry, who is this?” the detective asked.

“My partner.” Dante gave her a look she couldn’t quite discern. Pride? Maybe.

“Jessica Donavan.” She looked away. She’d begun using her maiden name after she’d moved out of their house, which had been a major point of contention between them. Since Donavan was on her badge, Dante would have to deal with it and she’d have to overcome her guilt. “I’m a homicide detective with the Chicago PD.”

“We work together on cases periodically,” Dante added. “Detective
Donavan
was the one who’d made the initial connection.”

“Glad to have you onboard, Detective,” Walters said. “As for your question, Elton’s a sweet kid. He was scared last night, but once I brought him home—”

“He’s staying with you?” she asked. “I thought he was placed with Child Services.”

“He will be, once they find him a foster family. Meanwhile, I think it’s a good set up. I have a daughter about his age and the two of them get along great. I think she’s helping him adjust. As for saying anything…the boy’s a chatterbox. He knows he’s two, his first name, he can count to fifteen, knows his shapes and colors—”

“That’s great,” Dante said. “But has he said anything that’s jumped out at you? Like a reference to who he was living with, his bedroom, preschool?”

“The fact the boy knows what he does
did
jump out at me. Someone had taken good care of him. He’s smart, healthy and when we found him, other than a little spaghetti sauce on his t-shirt, he was clean. Actually, everything was clean. There wasn’t a single fingerprint on the stroller or sippy cup. We did pull a hair off his sweatshirt, and sent it to Iowa DCI. It’ll be a few weeks before we get any results.”

Damn. Jessica drummed her fingertips along the card table. Knowing how CORE operated, if they’d had that hair, Rachel would have had it processed within a day. “So no mention of a mom or dad?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. At first, we figured the boy had only one parent and that maybe that person couldn’t handle or afford to take care of him anymore. Then today he started talking about his mommy and daddy, and asking when he’s going home.” He sighed. “Like I said, I have a daughter his age. I couldn’t imagine me and my wife just up and getting rid of her. Makes you wonder what was going through these peoples’ minds. Anyway, let me get that serial number and I’ll call you back. It should only take a few.”

After Walters ended the call, she finally looked at Dante. “I wish we had that hair sample.”

“The suspect would have to be in the national DNA database for it to matter. And I know that at least we’d have solid evidence against the kidnapper if we find him. I just don’t want you regretting not calling Walters sooner.”

“When.”

“When, what?”

“When we find him—and her.” She placed her bare foot on the seat of the chair and hugged her knee. “I’m stunned that
two
people are behind these kidnappings.”

“Don’t you think you’re jumping to conclusions?
A
, we don’t know for sure that the kidnappings are related.
B
, could be the kid’s parents simply wanted to get rid of him without dealing with adoption agencies.
C
, you’re taking the word of a two year old. And,
D
—”

“Would you stop with the alphabet crap? Because
one
, my gut and the pattern that we found today tells me these kidnappings are related.
Two
, dealing with an adoption agency, versus facing felony charges for child abandonment, is a hell of a lot easier. And
three
, I have a hard time believing that a two-year-old would lie about having both a mom and a dad.”

He ran a hand through his hair. Damn, it looked thick and soft. Until last year he’d stuck with a military crew cut. She hadn’t minded it, but what would it be like to grab a handful of all that hair while she—

“I think we should call Shreveport, Blythe and New Brunswick PDs,” she said, trying to stay on track, even though the unfulfilled fantasy was way better than their current conversation. “It might take them some time to find the strollers they
should
still have as evidence.”

“Walters said he’d call right back. Let’s wait for him.”

“He already knows he’s dealing with CORE. And I guarantee he’s checking out your agency and checking with his boss before he goes ahead and gives us the serial number.” She hugged her knee tighter. “I need you to make those calls. If Walters does call us back, I can field it.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes unreadable, before he nodded. “Okay, give me the file and I’ll make the calls.”

She refrained from releasing a huge sigh of relief and handed the file to Dante. With the few missing children investigations she’d worked, she had dealt with detectives from medium to large cities—Cleveland, Indianapolis, Rochester. Those detectives had been busy handling other cases, they’d been happy for the outside assistance. Now that she was going to be dealing with a couple of smaller communities, she realized she’d need Dante and his ties with CORE to help give her access to information she might not be privy to.

Since she’d been using the program to help other parents find their children, she’d depended on only herself. Having to rely on Dante wasn’t anything new. Their marriage had begun with a solid foundation of trust, and with the understanding and security of knowing they always had each other’s back. Neither of them had held up their end these past six years. Still, she did trust Dante and then, of course, there was his strong sense of duty. If he chose to stay involved, she honestly believed he would treat her as a partner, and not go behind her back and keep her in the dark. They’d been through too much already and she needed to let go of her need to be in control.

She wanted this kidnapper—kidnappers, she amended, based on the boy’s reference to his mommy and daddy—found. She didn’t believe they’d taken her daughter. Considering their MO, they were targeting blond, blue-eyed baby boys, not dark haired, dark-eyed baby girls. To be able to prevent these people from destroying and devastating another family wouldn’t make losing her baby girl any easier, but it would at least make her feel like she was doing something to make a difference. Her search had become icy cold. She hadn’t had a solid lead on her daughter in over five years. There’d been a few times of false hope—the most recent had been a few weeks ago—but in the end, it had been just that. False hope. Still, if she couldn’t embrace her own child, she wanted to be able to help give another family the opportunity to have the answers they needed and, most importantly, possibly embrace their missing child again. To be able to witness their union—

She swallowed and blinked her watery eyes. Instead of imaging a reunion, she needed to do everything possible to make it happen first. As Dante placed a call to the Shreveport PD, she decided to continue searching through the missing children database she’d been working on when he’d interrupted her with his unexpected visit. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she hadn’t minded that he’d showed up at her apartment this evening. Looking through the data on the different missing children websites had been depressing. She didn’t know what was worse, seeing the names attached to the smiling faces of abducted kids, or seeing the numerous facial, computer composites of unidentified children—mostly teens—who had been found dead. Next to their composites might be a specific brand of shoes or jacket they’d been wearing, or an image of a tattoo or birthmark. The dozens of unidentified children was staggering, and so sad. Weren’t their families looking for them? Had they given up? Or had they been the ones who had sent them to an early grave?

With Dante here, looking at the database wasn’t any less depressing, but that sense of isolation had faded—for now. Once he left, the loneliness, as always, would return. The walls, cluttered with reminders that there was an incredible amount of evil in the world, that happiness could quickly turn to pain at a moment’s notice, that life truly wasn’t fair, would close in on her. The sense of overwhelming helplessness would set in and make sleeping in her twin bed difficult without the help of a couple of drinks or a sleeping aid. If only she could learn to shut her mind off and change her perspective on life. If only she could escape the past like Dante had, and move forward in a way that would lessen the physical and emotional pain she carried with her.