Running on Envy Page 2

  “I know, but you said—” She swallowed against her cracking voice. “Your father is a detective. And you said you work with him.” Again she appeared younger than her age as she looked up at me.

  “Yes.”

  “Could you help, do you think?”

  Both she and I glanced at her husband, seeking approval, I suppose.

  “Would you? Would you and your father help find Ally?” His mouth moved into a deeper frown. “I have to admit, I don’t have a lot of faith in the police. I would feel much better if we had someone else who was working on our behalf.”

  “I’ll speak to my father,” I said. And MacGregor. After all, I had promised him I would not take any cases until after our wedding and honeymoon which were quickly approaching. But I had a feeling he would be as indulgent as Carter Elliot was of his wife, particularly since he would take it personally that the kidnapper had escaped.

  A moment later the doorbell rang and Jillian went to answer it. Returning to the living room, she said, “Carter, it’s Jenny’s friend, Malcolm MacGregor and her father. Should I let them in?” Carter. He was her stepfather.

  Considering that I had been calling my father by his first name for several years, I of all people should not assume that was the case. When I was a teenager and had gone to live with my father during his short-lived second marriage, my stepmother had referred to him as Charlie instead of “your father” or “Dad”, I had run with it. But in this instance there was more evidence to support my theory. Jillian had not turned to Carter for comfort.

  So, assuming her father was still alive, the next question that popped into my curious mind was, where was he?

  “Of course,” Carter answered Jillian and started toward the door, but Shelby grabbed his hand.

  “Carter! Don’t leave me.”

  “No, of course I won’t, darling. I’m right here.” He leaned down and hugged her before introducing himself to Charlie and MacGregor whom Jillian had escorted into the house.

  “Have the police found anything?”

  “Not so far,” Charlie answered. “But they’re on it. They’ve set up a blockade at the road’s end and have detained everyone at the park to question them. They’ve isolated the crime scene so as not to compromise any evidence.”

  “What kind of evidence?” Shelby sat up straighter on the couch and turned to look at us.

  “Anything, particularly footprints,” Charlie said. “He ran through the brush. A branch could have torn his shirt. Perhaps a hair sample. And they’ll examine the stroller for fingerprints.”

  It was a long shot but part of police procedure. The shirt they were talking about was a sweatshirt. It would hold up against most of the twigs and branches in the park. And it had a hood.

  Shelby’s mind took the same track. “He was wearing one of those hooded sweatshirts so I doubt any hair—” The tears started up again and she snatched a tissue from the nearby box. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it all seems so hopeless. I can’t believe this is happening.” She looked up at her husband. “Someone took my baby. Someone took Ally! She must be terrified! What’s going to happen to my sweet baby?” Her voice was bordering on hysteria now as the reality sank deeper. I didn’t blame her a bit.

  Carter sat on the edge of the couch and pulled his wife into his arms and held her while she sobbed. The rest of us looked on helplessly.

  “They’ve found nothing?” Carter asked, looking up as if pleading for us to come up with something, anything with which to comfort his wife, even if it was manufactured.

  “There is something,” MacGregor offered.

  He released his wife only slightly. “What?”

  “The sweatshirt he was wearing was from one of the local colleges.”

  “How do you know that?” Carter asked.

  “I didn’t see the insignia which would be on the front, but there was a white circle within another white circle on the back. The name of the school is written in between the circles.”

  “You could read the name?” Jillian asked.

  “I didn’t need to. It’s the only local college that has those circles and name on the back.”

  “That’s something, isn’t it? That could help, don’t you think?” Carter offered.

  “It could.” Charlie’s response was tentative. I was certain he too was thinking that the college was not necessarily local and that anyone can purchase college sweatshirts.

  “Do the police know about this?”

  “Yes, I told them,” MacGregor said. “They’ll look into it.”

  “What else are they doing?”

  “They’re focusing on how the kidnapper got away,” MacGregor said.

  I knew the routine. A forensics team would be checking fingerprints, footprints and looking for any other evidence. Someone would be on a computer checking for any parolees in the area, particularly child molesters, and the data base for pedophiles would be checked and all would be brought in for questioning. The neighborhood would be scoured for any type of surveillance cameras and all neighbors would be questioned. And then the real interrogation would begin—of the kidnapped child’s family.

  “I lost sight of him along the concrete path that runs along the wall,” MacGregor continued, “so they’re trying to figure out how he disappeared. That would either be by boat or through the backyard of one of the homes on the edge of the Sound.”

  “Which do you think it is?” I stood up and walked over to MacGregor.

  “I’m certain that a boat would not have escaped my notice. That leaves the neighborhood homes.”

  “It could have been a neighbor?” Shelby’s voice was bordering on frantic again.

  But the truth was, if it was a neighbor, that would be a good thing. It would narrow the search considerably. But I knew where her thoughts had gone—directly to betrayal.

  “It could have been,” MacGregor said. “Or he may simply have run through a neighbor’s yard to make his escape to a car that was waiting on the street. The police are searching for footprints in the yards of all the homes that are adjacent to the Sound.” He glanced out the window and I knew his thoughts. This would have to be a rare dry November week in Seattle. Fresh footprints would be more difficult to detect. But not impossible.

  MacGregor placed an arm across my shoulder. “They’re also talking to everyone in the park—including anyone at the tennis courts and soccer field even though the kidnapper went in the other direction. Just in case someone saw something. And they’re going door to door as well, searching for surveillance cameras and questioning everyone in the neighborhood.”

  “How many?” I slid my arm around his waist, finding comfort there.

  “Two teams of detectives arrived initially,” Charlie said. “The other coppers showed up shortly after. Twelve are combing the park now. I would say there are upwards of twenty scouring the neighborhood.”

  “Jack and Rochelle?” I asked.

  “They’re working the case but the lead detective is—” His grimace told me exactly who it was. “Ben Blaine.”

  “Do you know them?” Carter asked.

  “Och, aye,” Charlie said. “We go way back.” Jack Sawyer and Rochelle Turner had been his students at the University. On the other hand, from what I could glean, he had known Ben Blaine from working some of the same cases in the past and having stepped on his toes. The senior detective seemed to have very long toes.

  “Are they good?”

  “Very good.” He left out the part about Ben Blaine’s stubborn inclination to insist that things be done his way, not that Jack and Rochelle always bowed to his command.

  “Will you help them?” Shelby was clutching her lap blanket more tightly now. “Will you help them find my baby?”

  Charlie glanced from me to MacGregor. The three of us needed to talk. MacGregor squeezed my shoulder. Maybe talking wasn’t necessary. I nodded, and although reluctant to subject himself to working with Ben again, Charlie answered Shelby in the affirmative. “We’ll do wha
t we can.”

  Carter bent down to kiss his wife’s forehead, then looked to Jillian and said, “Will you stay with your mother for a moment?”

  Jillian stepped forward to sit on the edge of the couch beside her mother.

  “Where are you going?” Shelby clasped her husband’s hand.

  He kissed the back of hers and made a valiant effort to give her a reassuring smile. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

  He led the three of us into his study where he motioned for us to sit down in the neat office-style leather chairs that formed a circle. We all declined. None of us was in a sitting mood.

  “I need to know, what are the chances of getting Ally back?”

  MacGregor and I let Charlie take that one. I knew the odds, the percentages, and they weren’t good. “There are too many unknown factors for me to answer that.”

  “What do you think?”

  This time Charlie looked to me for an answer. He tended to depend on my intuition which he claimed was stronger than his. I knew better. I had inherited mine from him, after all. Still, I checked in with my sixth chakra before answering. I did not like giving anyone false hope. “Relatively good.”

  His hand combed through his thick brown hair, and his blue eyes looked more hopeful than they had since he’d arrived home. They were as blue as the ocean, and I would have thought them beautiful if I didn’t have an aversion to men with blue eyes. I could thank my ex-husband for that.

  I quickly cautioned myself to take responsibility for my feelings. Yes, Joe had betrayed me. Yes, he had blue eyes. But wasn’t it time I forgave him? And wasn’t it time I stopped assuming that all men with blue eyes were betrayers? Especially considering that I was a spiritual counselor. I needed to rise above these things. Hmm. There was always tomorrow.

  Carter released a deep sigh in response to my answer. “There’s hope. That’s something.”

  “Yes, but time is of the essence,” Charlie said. “The sooner we get going, the better.”

  “Will the police tell you what they find?”

  MacGregor and I looked at Charlie. His smile was impish. He was thinking of Rochelle and Jack’s loyalty—and their dislike of their superior officer. “Aye, they will indeed.”

  “Good. Then you’ll start on it immediately?”

  “I’ll do what I can, but I have another case I’m working on at the moment,” Charlie admitted. “If it didn’t involve a threat to someone’s life, I would happily put it on the back burner.”

  Carter’s fists clenched in unison with the tension in his face. “Please, you need to find Ally. Before—before anything happens to her.”

  “We’ll do everything we can,” Charlie assured him. “Jenny?”

  I in turn looked to MacGregor.

  “We’ll get on it immediately,” he answered for the three of us.

  “You’ll help me with my other case then?” Charlie asked, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes.

  He had been trying to get me to assist him with the case of the sabotaged Lincoln Navigator since he’d been hired. And I had refused, pleading the necessity for time to plan MacGregor’s and my wedding, to say nothing of preparations for the family Thanksgiving which was only six days away. I knew that he and Josh had been researching and observing and interviewing possible suspects for a couple weeks now and that they’d hit all dead ends. And while sympathetic to his cause, I hadn’t been willing to give up my time off. Until now.

  “We’ll help you,” I said, “So that we all can give the kidnapping as much attention as it takes.”

  Carter released his breath, comfortable with the assurance he saw in our eyes as he observed us. “Good. Because if anything happens to Ally, I don’t think Shelby would survive it.”

  The ringing doorbell drew our attention. The police, no doubt. Hopefully they had some information that could help us solve this case. We followed Carter Elliot out of the room and into the entryway where Jillian reluctantly opened the door before rushing back to her mother’s side, quickly joined by her stepfather.

  Was it my imagination or were Shelby Elliot’s husband and daughter both more concerned about her wellbeing than that of a helpless baby?

  Chapter 2

  Being questioned is never pleasant. And unfortunately the worst of it wasn’t over. The police would be grilling the Elliots again and the next time it would be separately.

  After the in-depth questions regarding their backgrounds, jobs, involvement in any lawsuits, debts, gambling issues, knowledge of anyone who wanted revenge on them, the more personal questions began. What was the status of their relationship? Were they having any affairs? And the most blunt question of all, were they behind the disappearance of their baby?

  “You think I did something to harm my baby?” Shelby looked at Ben Blaine in horror.

  “I’m sorry, m’aam. We just need to cover all possibilities.”

  “Well, you can stop badgering us.” Carter stood face to face with the very large and very intimidating detective, attributes Carter Elliot did not seem to notice. His stance implied a threat just as Ben’s questions had implied guilt. “First of all, my wife nor I would ever harm Ally. You can see for yourself how distraught Shelby is. Secondly, we have two witnesses who saw someone knock her down and snatch Ally. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Parents have been known to hire someone to kidnap their children.”

  Carter took a step toward Ben. Clearly, large and muscular himself, he was not a man to be easily intimidated. Nor was he a man to lose control. His words seethed with anger. “We would never do that. You’re looking in the wrong direction. I strongly suggest you stop harassing us and get on with questions that will actually help you find our baby.”

  Charlie’s raised eyebrow concurred with Carter’s argument. Ben did not fail to notice. His eyes narrowed as if in an attempt to warn Charlie to steer clear of him and this case. In all his years working as a private detective, my father had encountered very few law enforcement officers who were not grateful to have him involved in a case. Charlie McNair had a reputation, first as a criminal investigation detective with the police and then as a private detective. And always as a man of grace and diplomacy who could not only charm the most hardened of criminals but the detectives who were after them. The only man I knew to feel threatened by him was Ben Blaine. Maybe one of these days Charlie would tell me why.

  The detective looked down at the notes he was taking. “I apologize for your distress, Mr. and Mrs. Elliot. I am just doing my job. I’m sure you wouldn’t want it any other way.” He quickly continued before Carter could contradict him and declare his dissatisfaction with his methods. “So, we have all of your descriptions of the kidnapper and the jeans and sweatshirt he was wearing. We should know more once we find out how he got out of the park. I’ll stop back and let you know what we’ve discovered. With your permission, I’d like to send someone over to set up your phones so we can trace any calls in case one comes in from the kidnapper.”

  At least he was considering the possibility that there actually was a kidnapper other than the baby’s parents, and that the motive might be money.

  “Ransom?” Carter asked.

  “It’s possible.”

  “I’d better prepare to liquidate what money we have. Unfortunately it’s not easily accessible.”

  “That would be best. And it would be helpful if you could provide us with a list of people who might want to harm you.” Before Ben Blaine excused himself to check on the progress his team was making, he looked Carter Elliot in the eye and said, “And we will need to question you and your wife again. This time separately. If you want an attorney present, now is the time to call one.”

  MacGregor and I followed Charlie as he tailed Ben to the door. I suppose if I had considered that gesture more closely, I might have deduced that I, like Jillian, was taking on the parenting role of my parent. But if it kept Charlie from saying or doing something stupid, so be it. There were not too many people who could rile
Charlie McNair. Unfortunately Ben Blaine was one of those few. My mother was another.

  “I’m certain that Shelby and Carter Elliot were not involved.” Charlie’s voice was soft, for the sake of the Elliots as well as the proud detective. Apparently my worry was for naught.

  “How do you know that?” Ben asked.

  “I know. I saw her immediately after the event.” Charlie turned back to me as I stood between living room and entryway. “Jenny?”

  “I agree. They were not involved.”

  “Are you assuming that because they’re friends of yours?”

  “They’re not,” Charlie said.

  “Neighbors? Friends? It’s all the same.”

  “We’ve only just met them today.”

  Ben Blaine rolled his eyes. “Then I suppose it’s that intuition of yours.”

  “I suppose it is,” Charlie responded. “But I just don’t see them hiring someone to kidnap their baby.”

  “You never know. You’ve been in this game long enough to know better than to think you can ever understand people or their motives, Charlie.”

  My father didn’t deny that. Nor did he bother to explain that over the years he had learned to trust his intuition.

  “So, tell me, Detective McNair, have they hired you to make up for the inept police department’s inability to do its job?”

  Charlie sighed and I could almost hear the words as they made their way through his thoughts. Here we go again. Wisely, he selected other words to speak. His self restraint did me proud. “This is their precious bairn who is missing, Ben. They’ll hire whoever they think can help bring her home safely.”

  Ben’s eyes glazed over slightly, and I thought that maybe this time wouldn’t be so bad. “Right. Of course.” He swung open the front door and stepped across the threshold, turning just before closing it. “Just stay out of my way, Charlie, and we’ll get along fine.”

  Carter came up behind us. “Are you leaving too?”

  “Actually I have a few more questions,” Charlie said before heading back into the living room. “You told the police you couldn’t think of anyone who would want to take revenge on you.”