Read Born in Death Page 18


  “You’ll find her.”

  “I’m going to make the calls, and if that doesn’t ring the bell, I’ll tag Missing Persons. Just as a precaution.”

  “No. No. You have to find her.” Mavis gripped harder. “You can’t give her to someone else. If you look for her, you’ll find her. I know you will.”

  “Mavis, I’m Homicide, and up to my ears in a double murder. Missing Persons is set up to handle this kind of thing. I’ll start the legwork, and we’re probably going to find her fast and fine. But if I don’t find her by tomorrow—”

  “Please.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, swam in them. The fact that they didn’t fall, that she didn’t simply collapse into a jag, was more wrenching. “I need you to do this, Dallas. I don’t know anybody in Missing Persons. I know you. I know you’ll find Tandy. She doesn’t have anyone to look out for her. But if she has you, she’ll be okay.”

  “Mavis—”

  “I’m scared for her.” She pressed their joined hands to her own belly. “And her baby. If I know you’re looking for them, I won’t be so scared.”

  “Okay, I’ll fix it. But you have to go home now and lie down.”

  “But I want to help you—”

  “That’s the deal, Mavis. I’ll do this, but you go home. I’m going to contact Leonardo, have him come get you.”

  “But you’ll tell me as soon as you know anything?”

  “The minute.”

  It wasn’t just Leonardo who showed, but Roarke, Peabody, and McNab as well.

  “We’d just finished loading up the gifts,” Peabody explained. “No sign of Tandy?”

  “Not yet. You go ahead, give Leonardo a hand. I’m just going to make a few inquiries.”

  “Dallas is going to find her,” Mavis said.

  “Of course she is.” Leonardo’s voice was easy and confident as he draped his arm around Mavis, but his eyes, meeting Eve’s, were full of concern. “I’m just going to get you home, baby doll. You’ve had a long day.”

  “Dallas?” McNab held up a hand. “How about if I go along, give Leonardo a hand with the loot. I can tag you when we’re done, and swing on back if you need more hands on this.”

  “That’ll work.” As long as they got Mavis home and horizontal. The rosy glow she’d had all day had changed into a strained pallor.

  “Find her quick, okay?”

  “Sure,” Eve said to Mavis. “Don’t worry.”

  “It’ll be all right now.” She stepped over, wrapped her arms around Eve, sighed. “It’ll be all right since you’re taking care of it.”

  “You’re tired, sweetie-pie.” Leonardo drew her away. “Let Dallas get started. You and the belly need a nice nap.”

  The minute the door was closed behind them, Eve dragged her hands through her hair. “Shit.”

  “Want me to do the knock-on-doors or take the ’link?” Peabody asked her.

  “Take the ’link, thanks. All health and birthing centers. Contact her boss, find out what went down Thursday, anything out of routine.”

  “You think something happened to her,” Roarke said.

  “Yeah, I do. Maybe Mavis’s nerves are contagious, but something’s wrong here. Look at this place.” She spread her arms. “Neat and tidy, everything in its place.”

  “Nesting,” Peabody put in. “Making everything nice for the baby.”

  “Whatever. She’s organized, and I’d say habitual.” She told them about the kitchen calendar. “Going by that, the plants, bath towel—all dry—I don’t think she’s been back here since she left for work Thursday morning.”

  She took a breath. “I don’t know much about it, but if she went and had the baby unexpectedly, why didn’t she contact someone—Mavis or her boss—and have them come get her hospital bag?”

  “Something could’ve gone wrong with the baby.”

  Eve nodded at Peabody. “Let’s find out.”

  “What can I do?” Roarke asked, and Eve blew out a breath.

  “Well, since we’re already stomping all over Tandy’s civil rights by just being in here, you could take a look at her ’links, her comp unit. See if you find anything unusual.”

  “Do you want me to contact Missing Persons?” Peabody asked.

  “Not yet. I have to figure out—if we don’t find her in the next few hours—how to convince them to let me handle it. Otherwise, Mavis is going to wig out on me again.”

  Eve started with Ms. Pason across the hall, but got nothing more there than had already been told.

  She worked her way, floor by floor. Most of the tenants who answered knew Tandy by name—which was a small surprise—the rest knew her by sight. None of them recalled seeing her in the last couple of days.

  She was on the ground floor about to knock on the last door when a woman gripping the hand of a kid—so bundled in outdoor gear Eve could only see the huge dark eyes—came up behind her.

  “You looking for someone?” As she spoke, the woman shifted just a little so the kid was behind her.

  “As a matter of fact. You live here?”

  “That’s my door you’re standing in front of. What do you want?”

  Eve pulled out her badge, and the woman frowned at it.

  “Look, if the disaster that is my ex is in trouble again, it’s nothing to me. I haven’t seen him in over a year and that’s the way I like it.”

  “It’s about Tandy Willowby. Apartment 4B.”

  “If Tandy’s done something to earn a visit from a badge, I’ll fly on the first pig that wings by.”

  “When’s the last time you saw her?”

  “Look, no offense, but cops’ve been a pain in my ass. You’re looking to hassle Tandy, you won’t get anything from me.”

  “I’m not looking to hassle her, just find her. Apparently nobody’s seen her for a couple of days. I’m a friend of a friend of hers.”

  “Who’s the friend you’re a friend of?”

  “Mavis Freestone.”

  “You’re a friend of Mavis’s.” The woman narrowed her eyes.

  “That’s right. Mavis had a baby shower today. Tandy didn’t show, and Mavis is worried. We came by to see if she was here. She’s not. Looks like she hasn’t been since Thursday. Have you seen her since?”

  “Well, hell. Come on inside. Me and Max are roasting in these coats.”

  “Max?” Eve looked down at the dark eyes framed in a puffy red hood.

  “Yeah, Max is my son, and the only thing worth spit I got out of the ex. Come on, pal of mine,” she said to the boy. “Let’s go inside. Zeela,” she added to Eve. “I’m Zeela Patrone.”

  “Dallas. Lieutenant Dallas.”

  Zeela unlocked the door, led the boy inside. Then she crouched down, grinned into his face. “You in there, Maximum Force? Let’s see. Hey, there you are!”

  He giggled as she stripped off the coat, unwound the scarf, pulled off mittens. Under it all, he was sturdy and dressed in some sort of overalls with a bright plaid shirt.

  “You go play in your room for a few minutes, okay?”

  “Can I have juice?”

  “Soon as I’m done.”

  Then he tugged her hand, whispered in her ear. “I don’t think so, handsome. Get your trucks, why don’t you, and we’ll have a race with them when Mommy’s done talking to the lady. That’s my boy.”

  When he toddled off, Zeela smiled, rose. “Kid’s a fricking miracle. Not a chromosome of his old man’s, far as I can tell. Sweet and fun and smart. Somebody decided to cut me one huge break. He asked me if maybe the tall lady could stay for a tea party.”

  “Appreciate it, but I have to pass. Tandy Willowby.”

  “Yeah. No, I haven’t seen her. That’s the thing. She was supposed to baby-sit Max Friday night.” Absently, Zeela tunneled her fingers through the hair that had been flattened by her cap. “I was going out on a limb and taking in a vid with this guy I keep running into at the deli down the block. I’ve been off dating since Max came along, so this was like a maiden voyage. Tandy wa
s supposed to come down, watch Max for the evening.”

  “She didn’t show.”

  “No. I called up there, then I went up. No answer. I gotta say, I was pretty steamed.” As she spoke, she hung up the outdoor gear on little pegs by the door. “Figured she forgot or was too tired. Max was bummed because he likes her a lot. We were both looking forward to Friday night, and she let us down. I decided to be pissed. Now I’m trying to decide if I should be worried.”

  “How well do you know her?”

  “We got to be friendly over the last few months. I’ve been there, done that—the having a kid on my own deal. Have you checked with her midwife? She could’ve gone into labor. She’s close to due.”

  “My partner’s up in Tandy’s apartment, making inquiries about that. Did she tell you anything about the baby’s father?”

  “Not much. Just he was back in England, and wasn’t part of the picture. No rancor, so I figure they’d just split amicably like.”

  “She ever mention his name?”

  “I don’t think so. Don’t remember anyway. Most she told me was that somebody’s bc didn’t do the job—happens—and she got pregnant. He wasn’t looking for permanent or family, she wasn’t sure she was ready to take it on by herself. Then she decided she was—the family thing. She decided to come to New York. Fresh start, new scene. That’s about it.”

  “How about other friends, men she was seeing?”

  “She was friendly. Mavis came by off and on. I met one of the women she works with, and sometimes she’d walk out with Ms. Pason from across her hall. They went to work about the same time most days. But as for men, she wasn’t into it. Not now.”

  “Did you get the sense she was worried about anything, anyone?”

  “No, just the opposite. She was revved up and ready to be a mother. But now I’m starting to worry. This city can eat you up. I don’t like thinking it could’ve taken a bite out of Tandy.”

  Nothing,” Peabody reported when Eve returned to Tandy’s apartment. “I know she has the same midwife as Mavis, so I contacted her. Randa Tillas. She states she hasn’t seen or heard from Tandy since her appointment on Monday. She was fine, right on schedule. Checked with her boss. She had Friday off. She’s slated to work tomorrow, noon to six. They’ve lightened her hours.”

  “She show for work Thursday?”

  “Right on time. Worked a full eight, last full day for her. She got in at just after nine, left at six. Nothing out of the ordinary during the day. She had three breaks. A full hour for lunch—maternity benny. She took them in their back room, with her feet up. Didn’t leave the shop all day, until six. No contact via the store ’link for her. Can’t say on her personal.”

  “How did she get to and from work, as a rule?”

  “Boss said she takes the bus. I got the route. The Thursday driver’s off today. We can track him down at home, or talk to him tomorrow. He’s on.”

  “We’ll take him at home.”

  “I’ve contacted the health and birthing centers nearest her work and her residence. Nobody by her name has checked in.”

  Eve rubbed her eyes. “Okay, we’ll spread out from that. And we’ll check if any MTs did a run with a pregnant woman matching her description.”

  She glanced over as Roarke came out of the bedroom. “I’ve checked her ’links and her comp,” he told her. “No outgoing on the ’links since Wednesday evening when she talked to a Zeela Patrone, this building.”

  “Yeah, I’ve gotten her statement. Tandy was supposed to run herd on Patrone’s kid Friday night. Didn’t show, didn’t contact her to cancel. Incomings?”

  “Nothing Thursday. Friday evening, from the same neighbor’s little boy. Came in at about seven in the evening, obviously coached by his mother. ‘Are you coming down to play with me’ sort of thing. Another transmission from the mother just after eight, faintly irritated. Asking where Tandy was, did she forget. Transmissions from Mavis today, from our house. Nothing else.”

  “And the comp?”

  “Nothing that seemed useful. She surfs baby boards, pregnancy and childhood sites. E-mails Mavis. She has Mavis’s e-address in her book, along with the addresses of her midwife, the downstairs neighbor, her work, her coworkers. Precious little, really,” he replied. “There’s nothing on there, Eve.”

  “And nothing that shows that indicates she’d rabbit,” Eve added. “If there was an accident, they’d have contacted her medical group. A woman this organized would have that data in her bag. Listed in her memo book, on her pocket ’link. Why does someone snatch a woman that close to giving birth?”

  “For the baby,” Peabody finished.

  “Yeah, for the baby.” A grim and nasty thought, Eve decided. But there was more grim, more nasty. “Or because they’re some sicko who rapes and/or kills pregnant women. We’ll do a run through IRCCA, see if we have any like crimes. And I want a full background run on Tandy. Things look this quiet, this normal, this settled, there’s often something shaky underneath.”

  “Does Mavis know who the father is?” Roarke asked.

  “No. But we’re going to find out.”

  “I’ll contact McNab,” Peabody began. “He can meet us at Central.”

  “No. I need to do that, work this out with MPU. We’re stepping on toes here.”

  She stopped a moment, lined up the steps in her mind. “Go back to your place, go ahead and do the search for like crimes. If Mavis is up to it, go there and ask her if she knows anything about what Tandy did back in England, what she might have said about the baby’s father, her family, that kind of thing. We’ll do the data run on Tandy, but Mavis may know more than she thinks. Keep her calm, you’re good at that. Let her know I’m talking to the people I need to talk to.”

  “We can help Leonardo set up some of the baby stuff. That’ll do the trick.”

  “If you say so. Roarke? With me?”

  “Always.”

  When they were in her vehicle, Roarke turned to her. “You think she was taken.”

  She thought of the pretty, cheerful blonde, the way she’d talked about looking forward to Mavis’s shower. “I see no reason for her to walk. I can’t jump to abduction or foul play from there, but yeah, that’s the way it feels.”

  “If you give Mavis a little time to calm down, I think she’d be satisfied if Missing Persons took this over, and you simply stayed in the loop.”

  “You didn’t see her, you didn’t hear her.” Resigned to it now, Eve shook her head. “And besides that—which is plenty—I told her I’d do it. All I have to do is convince MPU to leave it with me, then convince Whitney I can take this on without it infringing on the investigation I’ve already got going.”

  He brushed a hand over her hair. “You might want to convince yourself of that first.”

  She smiled thinly. “Working on it.”

  13

  AT CENTRAL, SHE SPLIT OFF FROM ROARKE, asking him to go straight to Homicide and wait for her in her office while she arrowed off to MPU.

  “I may need to offer whoever I deal with on this an incentive,” she told him.

  He cocked his head and those wonderful lips curved in an easy smile. “You mean a bribe.”

  “Bribe’s such a strong word. Yeah, I may need a bribe. Sports or booze, probably. Those are the usual hot tickets. I’ll keep it within reason.”

  “Bribing cops not to do work is a time-honored tradition.”

  “Hey.”

  He laughed. “Do what you need to do, Lieutenant. I’ll be in your office.”

  She didn’t know who might have caught weekend duty, or who might be at a desk, but she hoped it was someone she had at least a passing and cordial relationship with.

  Otherwise, she’d have to start from scratch with whoever had the weekend command—and if things got sticky, and an incentive didn’t make the cut, she’d go straight to Whitney. But that was something she hoped to avoid.

  She figured she lucked out when she spotted Lieutenant Jaye Smith grabbing wha
t looked like an energy bar at Vending.

  “Smith.”

  “Hey, Dallas. Caught a Saturday tour, too?”

  “Not exactly.” Eve dug credits out of her pocket. “Grab me a tube of Pepsi, will you?”

  “Sure. It’s on me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Great coat. Hell for leather, huh?”

  “You could say. Thanks,” Eve repeated when Smith offered the tube. “You got a minute for me?”

  “Sure. Want the lounge or the office?”

  “Let’s take your office.”

  “Business, then.” With a nod, Smith led the way.

  She was near fifty, Eve remembered, and had better than a quarter century on the job. Married with a kid, maybe two. She was on the short side, about five-three with a boxer’s kind of build. Tough and muscular. Her hair was many shades of blonde, and worn straight with shaggy ends that swung past her jaw.

  She wore her weapon as a sidearm at the hip, low, with a navy sweater over it.

  Eve knew her to be a solid cop, so tucked away the idea of waving sports or booze into the mix. With Smith, she could be direct, and put it all straight up.

  Lieutenant Smith’s office was bigger than Eve’s—but most were—and boasted what appeared to be two reasonably comfortable visitor chairs as well as a brushed steel desk that looked new.

  On it were the standard d-and-c unit, stacks of files, and a framed picture of a couple of teenagers—one of each kind—who Eve took to be Smith’s kids.

  From her office AutoChef, Smith got herself a mug of tea so dark it looked like coffee, then gestured to a chair. Instead of taking the desk, Smith settled into the other visitor’s seat.

  “So, what’s up? Lose somebody?”

  “Somebody looks to be lost. And I need you to do me a solid on it.”

  “You want me to shuffle a MP to the top of the pile for you, I can do that.” Rising, she opened a desk drawer. She was reaching for a recorder and a note pad when Eve shook her head.

  “That’s not exactly it either. Let me give you the situation.”

  Eve ran through it, watched Smith’s face, saw she was taking it in. “You’re thinking a snatch, and could be. But you got a pregnant woman, no partner, no known family, foreign. That’s a big plate heaped with several helpings of emotion. Could have snapped, taken off.”