Not Without Her Child, page 19
Opened up signals coming in from the entire state of Arkansas, and added Oklahoma and Missouri as well, since they’d had evidence hits from both states. One through the bar fight involving the same gun that had been fired at him and Jess, the other with Brandywine in a Missouri jail.
And while he was waiting for the downloads to populate his spreadsheets, he read an online version of the newspaper Clint had been reading at the café that last morning in Lincoln. Every word.
Someplace, he was going to find something. One little piece of information that would bring everything together for him.
He had to trust the process.
When his programmed colored lines started to show up in the little windows he’d minimized, Brian abandoned the news and focused on data. While there were signals crossing into Fayetteville on all searches, which he’d expected, what he hadn’t thought he’d see was the same signal, at all times there’d been text message deliveries, for the few-second duration text messages took.
One tower in Perrysville, Arkansas, to the tower pinging to Jess’s cell phone. And it was the only times the two towers were connected. Always just the one way. No calls from Jess’s tower to Perrysville.
Adrenaline flowing now, he typed in a request for driving distance between the two cities. Nearly three hours.
It was just before three, he could be there by six.
Thinking he’d text Jess once he was on the road, he was already in the kitchen on the way out the door when he heard her call from the hall. “Brian?”
Turning, he saw her at the entrance to the dining room. “Here,” he said, glad to see her. And yet...not. He had no idea what he’d be walking into in Perrysville...
What he might find out.
If it turned out to be good, she’d be just as happy at six, or nine, when he got back, without any of the rollercoaster in between...
“What?” she asked, joining him in the kitchen, studying his face.
“I have something I want to check out,” he told her. “Just a cell tower thing. I’m heading out to see where it leads and will keep you posted. And don’t worry about holding dinner, I’ll grab something on the road.”
He had to go. Every moving part of his system—blood, nerves, brain waves—were throttled up to full gear.
“Let me get my bag. I’ll go with you,” she said, as he’d feared she would. The woman was not going to be left out.
Or left behind.
“It’s a long drive, Jess. And maybe for nothing at all. You have to work in the morning, and with your research...” She’d left the bed at four that morning to do client research before the bell rang.
He wanted to pull the sex card. Wanted to suggest that she get her work done so they could spend more time making sparks that night while still allowing her to get the sleep she needed. But didn’t. First thing to give up would be them doing the deed.
Rather than going to get her purse, she came closer. Studied him more intently. “What’s going on, Brian? Where are you going?”
“To Perrysville.”
Her glance intensified, every feature on her face sharpening. “Why?”
He told her about extending the cell tower search. That he’d found a match for the messages that had been sent to her.
“Bonnie Lichen is in Perrysville.”
Studying culinary arts at a community college there. He knew.
She looked sick to her stomach for a moment. Drained of color and slightly hunched, then her face turned red, her mouth fell open.
Tears sprang to her eyes. “You think... Bonnie has Brooke?”
He’d had the thought. “I’m not jumping to any conclusions at this point,” he told her. “I just think the tower evidence is worth a conversation.”
“In person.”
“I want her to look me in the eye, yes.”
“You want to take her by surprise and see if my daughter is there with her.” Her voice wobbled, her tears continued to well, but she stood straight, head high. “I’m coming with you.”
Again, he had no idea what he’d be walking into. Could just as likely be that Bonnie had seen more than she should have and wanted Jessica to stop her search so that she wouldn’t be implicated down the road.
“Jess...”
“I’m coming.”
She was paying him. Could fire him on the spot and go alone.
She would do it. He had no doubt about that. No matter what danger she could find herself in. If Bonnie was more involved rather than less... If she had a gun, too...
With a single nod of his head, he waited for her to make a quick stop in the bathroom, get her purse and join him.
* * *
The drive to Perrysville was the longest three hours of her life. Jessica couldn’t get comfortable. Couldn’t find a streaming music station that played songs she wanted to hear. Couldn’t concentrate enough to do any of the financial research she’d been planning to do after the bell rang.
And she didn’t want to talk.
Couldn’t analyze or even care about technicalities.
Was she about to see Brooke? After so many months.
She cried a few times along the way. Quietly. Wiping away tears.
What if Brooke was afraid of her? She’d be a stranger to the toddler now.
Would she recognize her? How could she not recognize her own daughter? But...would she?
When her hands shook, she sat on them. When her thoughts were overwhelming her to the point of making her dizzy, she laid her head back and closed her eyes.
Brian...she was glad he was there. Driving.
Glad that they’d gotten her SUV back the night before. That Brooke’s car seat had been thoroughly cleaned and was firmly belted just as it needed to be to transport the little girl home.
Home.
She hadn’t had time to change the sheets on Brooke’s crib.
Was she sleeping in a big-girl bed now instead? Jessica had debated making the switch, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it.
“I bought one of those baby beds...you know, that convert from crib to trundle on the floor with a safety bar, for toddlers...”
“Jess...”
“... I know.” He didn’t want her to get her hopes up. She didn’t want to hear about that.
And could hardly sit in the vehicle when they pulled up to the apartment complex Brian had found as Bonnie’s last-known address.
He’d confirmed that the cell phone he’d called her on was registered to that address.
Oh, pleeeaassseee...
She got out, stiffened her legs when they almost gave out on her. Took a deep breath. Brooke’s first sight of her had to be as a happy, friendly-looking woman.
She should have changed out of the navy pants and silk, sleeveless blouse and blue pumps she’d worn to the office that morning. Put on something bumblebee...
Pulling the ponytail holder out, she shook her hair free, saw Brian looking at her with a mixture of worry and compassion and put her hair back up again.
She’d always worn it in a ponytail around the baby.
They found the door.
She knocked before Brian had a chance.
And nearly fell, with joints to rubber, leaning back against her expert detective, when the door opened.
Chapter 23
There was no young child living in the apartment.
Brian had determined that the second he’d seen the cat litter box in a far corner of the studio rental. Another few seconds of observation showed him the entire space, including the bathroom visible through an open door at the far end of the living space.
Another clue had been the way Bonnie had invited them in the second Jess had introduced herself.
The younger woman was trying to be friendly.
Overly so. He didn’t share the sense of camaraderie. Whether she’d sent the text messages, or suspected who did, or not, he knew the second she’d glanced his way that she’d lied to him over the phone.
Whatever she did know was making her nervous. Skittish. Unwilling to meet his gaze—or keep her hands still.
They didn’t have a warrant to be there. She didn’t have to speak to them. He had to start with full barrels, lest he was asked to leave before he got what he was after.
“Multiple text messages have been sent from here to my client’s phone,” he said, walking into the living area as though he had every right to be there. He was tall, broad-shouldered. Bonnie wasn’t. He wanted to be intimidating. And he didn’t want to be standing next to a woman who oozed compassion.
“Here” could be defined as in that room or in that town. He left that up to Bonnie.
“If I search this place, I’m guessing I’m going to find the burner phone from which they were sent.”
“It’s not a burner phone!” Bonnie blurted the words fast. Based on the worried look on her face, Brian assumed that, if she’d had the chance to think before she’d spoken, she wouldn’t have given him the information. “I bought it legally off the internet,” she finished, dropping down to the edge of her worn but clean-looking couch. Her body slumped, head bent, she looked at her clasped hands. Brian looked at her. Couldn’t afford to be distracted by the woman somewhere behind him.
Not until he’d finished with Bonnie. He wasn’t going away with another dead end. He’d promised Jess answers and as yet had only managed to give her an overwhelming number of worrisome questions.
“When did you buy it?” He had her on the hook, didn’t want to panic her to the point of clamming up. He’d ease into the rest of it.
“After you called me,” she said. “I have the receipt, if you want to see it. It’s an unregistered phone, and came with sixty minutes on it.” Leaning over to a scarred end table, she opened the drawer, produced the phone and handed it him. “Check it out.”
“May I keep this?” Anderson would want it. And might need it. That remained to be seen.
She shrugged. “I don’t need it.”
With a quick glance at the cheap flip model, he accessed all of the messages that had come into Jessica’s phone. And determined that no other visible calls or messages had gone out from that device.
Then pinned Bonnie with a look that had cowered more than one hardened criminal. “Why?”
She looked at the window. At something behind him—Jessica, he guessed—and then toward his feet.
“After you called...all that talk about a baby... Gram was super upset and... I’m almost through with school. I graduate next month and I’ve already started financing to be able to open up the café again. No way I can do that if you guys keep trying to prove that it was used for some criminal purpose or that Gram and I are involved.”
She looked up at him then, square in the eye, and said, “I just wanted her to leave us alone.” She looked beyond his shoulder again.
“I’m the one asking the questions.” Brian’s tone was meant to draw her gaze back at him. And succeeded.
“Yeah, but she pays you,” Bonnie said, somewhat sheepishly, but looking at him. “Gram said you said you were her private detective.”
He’d told Harriet as much. The first visit and the second.
“I just didn’t want some PI snooping around the place, trying to make it look as though something horrible went down there. This loan, if I get it, the café...it might be my only chance to make my dreams come true.”
He remembered Harriet saying something about Bonnie’s dream of owning a restaurant.
The younger woman didn’t give him any warm fuzzies. He didn’t trust her as he had Harriet—but then, she’d been harassing, striking terror in the woman he...
His thoughts stopped short.
The woman he what?
Worked for. He answered the question emphatically enough to get the thoughts out of his head as he told Bonnie he’d be back if he had any further questions.
He wouldn’t be. He’d be turning the whole thing over to Anderson, but she didn’t need to know that.
“It’s not like I did anything wrong,” Bonnie said, looking between the two of them as they headed to the door.
“You sent text messages with the intent to terrorize,” he said, pretty sure that no court was going to charge the woman.
“I didn’t threaten anything,” she said. “I only meant to scare her...”
He wasn’t going to argue the point. Didn’t much care what happened to Bonnie Lichen.
He cared about Jess’s silence. The emptiness of her expression.
He’d known it would be better for her if she hadn’t come along. Not that he’d tell her so.
But damn.
His specialty was finding the truth.
Not doing damage control.
* * *
Jessica slept on the way home. Overwhelmed by the crushing disappointment coursing through her, she’d welcomed the escape. And when they arrived home, she entered the house ahead of Brian, turning to say, “I’m sorry for conking out on you. Leaving you to make the drive alone.”
“I’d planned on doing the whole thing alone,” he said, his tone kind, if distant, and she nodded. Her bag still on her shoulder, she hugged her arms around her middle and moved toward the dining room. She had work waiting there for her. More data to peruse in search of anything that carried any hint of familiarity to her—and work in her office, too.
And just didn’t have the energy right then to do any of it.
“I’m heading in,” she announced to the house in general, not looking at him, or even glancing to see what he was doing. If he was settled back at the table.
And in she went. To her room. Brushed her teeth. Thought about a bath. Needing to clean herself of the grayness enveloping her, but not finding the will to do that either.
Instead, longing for more oblivion, she stripped down to panties, pulled on an old tank top and slid beneath the covers. She never even turned on the light.
She didn’t fall asleep either. She laid there, alone, listening to silence. Wondering if Brian would join her as he’d done the past two nights. Or if he was done with her.
At least for a night or two.
He’d wanted to go to Perrysville alone. Had been trying to spare her.
She’d had to go. And would do so again and again.
However many times it took.
He didn’t get that her own let-downs didn’t matter to her. She’d been through a ton of them. And would face a million more if that’s what it took.
But maybe, going through them with her was too much for someone else to take on. There was no fault in that.
Half an hour after she went to bed, she heard him in the hall. Heard his bathroom door shut. Then reopen. Pictured him heading to the bed she’d made up for him. Reaching for the covers.
And heard him at her doorway, too. He’d knocked softly, but hadn’t waited for a response. His feet like muffled shadows on the carpet, he moved to his side of the bed, he lowered himself, held his arms open to her, and she slid into them.
Not to kiss.
Or explore. She just wrapped her own arms around his middle, laid her head on his chest and continued to breathe.
It’s how she got through. She just continued to breathe.
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
The rumble of his words vibrated against her cheek. “Nothing’s happening.” Not true. So much was. She just didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with it that night.
“You...me...it’s not making sense to me.”
But he was there. Holding her. When she’d let him completely off the hook.
And she knew he wasn’t talking about her. Maybe wasn’t even thinking about her feelings at the moment.
That was what she should have been doing.
Wallowing in self...that was how she crashed.
Her strength was in thinking of others.
Or maybe it was in thinking of those she cared about.
She cared about Brian. Not in the sense of building rainbows, or happy endings, but just...one spirit meeting another along the way and...caring.
“What’s not making sense?” she asked him, her mind needing to know how he was feeling, not even considering how his feelings would affect hers. It was who she was. Who she’d always been.
Nurturing was her strength and she’d be damned if she’d let Clint Johnson’s misuse of her make her feel afraid of that.
“It’s getting mixed up,” he said, his voice thick. Soft in the darkness. His hand running slowly up and down her side where he held her, he continued. “Business...and you. Working, doing my job...and you. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn...whether you’re around or not...there’s...you. In ways that don’t fit client...or lover. I can’t find a definition. Don’t know where or how to file it.”
As esoteric and unclear as his words were, in any practical logical sense, she understood them. “Maybe it doesn’t need defining,” she said, but knew her words fell short. His struggle was beyond putting a name to their relationship.
To talking about boundaries.
“What’s bothering you the most?” Made sense to start there.
Laying flat on his back, he had one arm under her neck, around her shoulders, his hand on her upper arm, and the other—he clung to the covers on his opposite side.
“After my mother died, my father became consumed with avenging her death by getting every single criminal, no matter how two-bit, off the streets. He lay in wait. He entrapped. It was like he couldn’t rest, couldn’t find his peace, until there wasn’t a single bad guy left.”
That kind of pain spoke to her. She recognized it.
“He set himself an impossible task—making sure no other cop died on duty ever again by ridding the world of bad guys. Because there’d always be more coming up.”
