FOR THE BABY'S SAKE (5 page)

“Carmen?” Robert asked.

“Lucky for her, her brother wasn’t feeling well this morning. She came to work late.” Jamison pointed to the group of counselors gathered across the street. “Carmen Jimenez is the dark-haired woman standing next to Liz.”

“My God, she’s beautiful,” Robert said, then looked surprised that the comment had slipped out. “Sorry,” he added.

Jamison shrugged. “That’s the reaction most men have. Many of our clients are Spanish-speaking. She’s a big asset.”

Sawyer studied the two women who stood close together, deep in conversation. Carmen stood half a head shorter, her black hair and darker skin a stark contrast to Liz’s blond hair and fair complexion. “Liz and Carmen close?”

“Best friends. We’re all like family.” Frustration crossed Jamison’s face. “I’ve got to talk to them,” he muttered. “They deserve to know what’s going on.”

Sawyer watched him walk across the street, joining Liz, Carmen and one other woman, who looked about ten years older. He assumed it was Cynthia, the counselor who just worked mornings. He couldn’t hear what Jamison told them, but by the looks on their faces, they were shocked, scared and, he thought somewhat ironically, Liz and Carmen looked downright mad.

It took another ten minutes before the group broke up. Jamison walked back to Sawyer and Robert. “Well, they know. I told them that I’ve already started making arrangements for our current clients to be referred to other agencies. We have a responsibility to these young girls.”

Sawyer understood responsibility. After all, he’d made it his responsibility to bring in Mirandez. “I’m going to go talk to Liz,” Sawyer said to Robert.

Robert gave Liz and Carmen another look. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

When Sawyer reached Liz, he realized that Mary Thorton sat on the bench directly behind her. The young girl looked up when Sawyer and Robert approached. She didn’t smile, frown or show any emotion at all. She just stared at the two of them.

Sawyer couldn’t help staring back. The girl had on a green shirt and a too-tight orange knit jumper over it. With her big stomach, she looked like a pumpkin. Then the dress moved in ripples.

Sawyer remembered the first time he’d felt his baby move. It had rocked his world. He’d first put his hand on his girlfriend’s stomach, then his cheek. It had taken another hour for the baby to roll over again, but the wait had been worth it.

Sawyer stuck his hand out toward Carmen Jimenez. “Ms. Jimenez,” he said. “I’m Detective Montgomery.”

“Good morning,” she said.

“This is my partner, Detective Hanson.”

Robert reached out his own hand. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Jimenez.” Robert smiled at the woman. It was the same smile Sawyer had seen work very well for Robert in the past.

Carmen Jimenez didn’t have the reaction that most women had. She nodded politely and shook Robert’s hand so briefly that Sawyer wasn’t sure that flesh actually touched.

Sawyer turned his attention to Mary, keeping his eyes trained on her face. He didn’t want to make the mistake of looking at her baby again. “Mary.” He spoke quietly. “Where were you at six o’clock this morning?”

“Sleeping.”

“Alone?”

Mary gave him a big smile. “I don’t like to sleep alone.”

“So, I guess whoever you were sleeping with could verify that you were in bed this morning?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Come on, Mary. Surely he or she would know if you’d slipped out of bed.”

“Trust me on this, Cop. It wouldn’t be a she.”

“Didn’t think so,” Sawyer said. “What’s his name?”

“I can’t tell you.”

The girl’s eyes had widened, and Sawyer thought her lower lip trembled just a bit. Liz must have seen it, too, because she sat down next to Mary and wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulders.

Sawyer deliberately softened his voice. He needed Mary. Hated to admit it but he did. “Mary, we can help you. But we need to know what’s going on. You need to tell us.”

“I don’t know anything. You’d need to talk to him.”

“Mirandez?”

Mary shook her head and frowned at Sawyer.

“No.”

“Who, Mary? Come on, it’s important.”

She hesitated then seemed to decide. “Well, okay. His name is Pooh.”

“Pooh?”

“Yeah. Pooh Bear. He’s been sleeping with me since I was six.”

He heard a laugh. Sawyer whirled around, and Robert suddenly coughed into his hand. Carmen, her dark eyes round with surprise, had her fingers pressed up against her lips. Sawyer looked at Liz. She stared at her shoes.

Damn. He could taste the bitter metal of the hook. The girl had baited her pole, cast it into the water and reeled him in. It was all he could do not to flop around on the sidewalk.

“Funny,” he said. “Hope you’re still laughing when you’re sitting behind bars, waiting for a trial.”

Liz stood up and jerked her head toward the right. “May I speak to you in private, Detective?”

Sawyer nodded and walked across the street. When he stopped suddenly, Liz almost bumped into him. She was close enough that he could smell her scent. It was a warm, sticky day already, but she smelled fresh and cool, like a walk through the garden on a spring night.

“Don’t threaten her,” Liz warned. “If you’re going to charge her with something, do it. Otherwise, leave her alone. This can’t be good for her or the baby.”

Sawyer took a breath and sucked her into his lungs. As crazy as it seemed, it calmed him. “She’s a little fool.”

“She’s a challenge,” Liz admitted.

Sawyer laughed despite himself. “Paper-training a new puppy is a challenge.”

Liz smiled at him, and he thought the world tilted just a bit.

“I’ll talk to her,” Liz said.

“How? Isn’t she being referred on?”

Liz glanced over her shoulder, as if making sure no one was close by. “I’m going to keep seeing her. She needs me.”

“Your boss is closing shop.”

“I know. Carmen and I already discussed it. We’ll see clients at my apartment.”

Calm disappeared. “Are you nuts?”

She lifted her chin in the air.

He pointed a finger at her. “You received a threat. Which may or may not have anything to do with the shooting. Which may or may not have anything to do with today’s bomb. Which may or may not have anything to do with Mirandez or Mary or the man in the moon. What the hell are you thinking?”

“I have to take the chance.”

She’d spoken so quietly that Sawyer had to lean forward to hear her. “Why?” The woman had a damn death wish.

“I just have to,” she said.

Was it desperation or determination that he heard in her tone? All he knew for sure was that nothing he could say was going to change her mind. “When? When are you starting this?” he asked.

“Mary’s coming to see me tomorrow.”

Great. That gave him twenty-four hours to figure out how to save them both.

Chapter Four

Liz’s small apartment seemed smaller than usual after she set up shop at the kitchen table and Carmen took the desk in the extra bedroom. Girls came and went, and while the surroundings were different, the conversations were much the same as if they had occurred in a basement on the South Side.

It was late afternoon when Carmen made her way to the kitchen. “I thought Detective Montgomery might have a stroke yesterday.” She took a swig from her water bottle. “He looked like he wanted to wring your neck.”

Liz laughed and reached for her coffee cup. She took one sip and dumped the rest down the drain. No coffee was better than cold coffee. “He thinks we’re idiots.”

“He might be right.” She hesitated. “What time was Mary’s appointment?” she asked softly.

Liz looked at the clock. “Three hours ago.”

“Did you call her?”

“Four times.”

Carmen didn’t say anything. Finally, she sighed. “There’s something very wrong here.”

“I know. I just don’t know what it is.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Are you done for the day?”

“I am. I could stay with you.”

“Don’t you dare. Your brother is still sick. Go home. Pick up some chicken-noodle soup for him on the way.”

“You’re sure?”

Liz nodded.

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Liz watched her friend leave. She waited fifteen minutes before trying Mary’s cell phone again. It rang and rang, not even going to voice mail. She tried her three more times in the evening before finally giving up and going to bed.

She woke up the next day, tried Mary, didn’t get an answer and finally admitted to herself that she needed help. Carmen was right. Something was very wrong.

Liz called Sawyer. He answered on the second ring.

“This is Liz Mayfield. Mary had an appointment yesterday, but she didn’t show or call. I’m worried about her.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard him sigh.

“Can’t the police do anything?” she asked. “She’s just a kid.”

“I’ll put the word out to my contacts. If anybody sees her, they’ll call.”

“What about a missing-person report? Should I do one of those?”

“You can.” Sawyer didn’t think it would hurt but he doubted it would help much. Every day there were lots of teenagers reported missing. Most showed up a few days later safe and sound, sure that they’d taught their parents a thing or two. The true runaways usually called home a couple weeks later, once their money had run out. The smart ones anyway. The dumb ones slipped into a life of prostitution that killed them. Even those who were still technically breathing, working the streets each day, were as good as dead.

Fluentes had made contact late the night before. He had heard that Mirandez had slipped out of town but didn’t have specifics. Sawyer thought it likely that Mary had gone with him. For all he knew, the two of them were hiding out in some fancy hotel somewhere, living off room service, enjoying all the benefits that drug money could buy.

“Do you think we should check the hospitals?” Liz asked.

“Probably a good idea. Hell, maybe she had her baby.”

“I doubt it. Mary’s scared to death of labor. I think she’d call me.”

If she could. But maybe Mirandez had put the screws to that. “Are you this tight with all your clients?” Sawyer asked.

“No. But Mary really doesn’t have anybody else.”

“She has Mirandez,” Sawyer said.

“He must have opted out. Maybe he’s afraid of blood?”

“Only of seeing his own,” Sawyer said. “What about her family? Anybody around here that she’d stay with?”

“Her mother died several years ago. I’ve met her father. He kicked her out when he found out about the pregnancy. I tried to reason with him, but it was no use. Something along the lines of she’s made her bed, now let her lie in it.”

His parents had been furious when he’d come home and confessed that he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant. His mom had cried. His dad had left the house for four hours. But then he’d come home, quietly conferred with his wife, then the two of them sat Sawyer down so that they could discuss what he intended to do about the situation.

He’d wanted to marry Terrie. He found out it didn’t much matter what he wanted. Terrie’s parents refused to even consider the idea. He’d been the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. They’d wanted more for their daughter.

Sawyer had been standing at his son’s freshly dug grave when Terrie’s father had confessed that not allowing his daughter to marry Sawyer had been a mistake. Sawyer hadn’t even responded. Sawyer knew the man thought he could have pulled Terrie back from the drugs that crushed both her body and mind.

Sawyer knew better. He hadn’t been able to help Terrie. A marriage license wouldn’t have helped him wrestle her away from the cruel grip of addiction. He’d believed Terrie when she’d promised to quit the drugs. In doing so, he’d failed her. That haunted him. He’d failed his helpless son. That had rocked his soul, causing it to crack and bleed.

“She have any friends?” Sawyer asked.

“She talked about a couple girlfriends. But I never met them.”

“Okay. Then I guess we wait. See if something comes up.”

“There is one place we might check,” Liz said. “Mary mentioned a children’s bookstore that she liked. Said she spent a lot of time there, looking through books.”

“Got a name?”

“I’ve got an address. I wrote it down. I had planned on finding it and picking out a baby gift.” She opened her purse, pulled out the slip of paper and read it to him.

He whistled softly. “Are you sure that’s right?”

“Yes. Mary raved about this store. She said Marvis, the owner, was really cool. It’s not an area I’m familiar with.”

“I’d hope not,” Sawyer mocked. “I don’t think there’re a lot of bookstores in that neighborhood. There are, however, a lot of really great crack houses. I’ll go check it out and let you know.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

He didn’t answer.

“Look, Sawyer. You need Mary. I’m the best link you have to her. But if you cut me out—if you even think about leaving me behind—that’s the last information I’ll share with you.”

Sawyer counted to ten. “To interfere with a police investigation is a crime. To willfully withhold evidence is a crime.”

“You’d have to prove it first.”

Sawyer almost laughed. He’d used his best I’m-a-hard-ass-cop voice. The one that made pimps and pushers shake. But she didn’t even sound concerned. “What about your clients?”

“I’ll call Carmen. We both had a light day today, so she should be able to cover my clients. She can meet them at a coffee shop near OCM.”

“Fine. Be ready in twenty minutes.”

Sawyer hung up the phone. He ran his fingers across the stack of manila folders that had been delivered late last night, hot out of the filing cabinets of OCM. Personnel files. Liz Mayfield’s file.

He sifted through the pile. When he found hers, he flipped it open. Copies of tax forms. Single with zero exemptions. Direct-deposit form. Emergency-contact form. Harold and Patrice Mayfield, her parents. They had a suburban area code.

He set those papers aside. Next was her résumé. With plenty of detail.

He scanned the two-page document. The label Ph.D. jumped out at him. Liz had a doctorate degree in psychology from Yale University. Up until a few years ago, she’d worked for Mathers and Froit. The name meant nothing to him. He read on. She’d been a partner, responsible for billing out over a half million a year. That was clear enough. She’d been in the big time.

But she’d left that all behind for OCM. Why? With a sigh, Sawyer closed the file. He stood up and snatched his keys off the desk. He almost wished he’d never looked. Even as a kid, he’d been intrigued by puzzles.

He opened his car door just as Robert pulled his own vehicle into the lot. He waited while his friend parked.

“I’ve got a lead on Mary Thorton,” he said when Robert approached.

“Need me to go with?”

“No. It’s probably nothing. The personnel files are on my desk. Spend your time on them. Maybe the connection to OCM isn’t Mary. Maybe it’s something else.”

* * *

W
HEN
S
AWYER
AND
L
IZ
pulled up to the address, Sawyer started to laugh. A dry chuckle.

Liz looked at the slip of paper and then checked the numbers hanging crooked on the side of the old brick building. There was no mistake. Mary’s bookstore was the Pleasure Palace. Brown shipping paper covered the front windows. “What do you think?” she asked.

“I think it’s not a Barnes & Noble,” he said, smiling at her.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said, opening her car door.

Sawyer caught up with her fast. “Stay behind me,” he instructed. “It’s too early for the drug dealers or the prostitutes to be doing business, but there’s no telling what else lurks around here.”

Liz slowed her pace and let him take the lead. He pushed the door open with his foot. “Also, no telling where people’s hands have been that turned that handle,” he said almost under his breath.

There were magazines everywhere. Women, their bodies slick with oil, in every pose imaginable. Men with women, women with women, women with dogs. Where the magazines ended, the ropes, chains and harnesses took up.

“I don’t believe this.” Sawyer let out a soft whistle and pointed.

There, surrounded by DVDs, handcuffs, and plastic and rubber appliances in all shapes and sizes, was a table piled high with kids’ books. They were used but in good shape.

Sawyer picked one off the pile. It was the familiar Dr. Seuss book. “I hate green eggs and ham,” he said, “Sawyer, I am.”

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” Liz hissed.

“It’s hilarious. It’s worth the price of admission.”

“There was no admission.”

“Trust me on this. There’s always a price. We just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Hello.” A voice sang out from the corner.

“But we’re just about to find out,” Sawyer whispered.

A woman, almost as tall as Sawyer and pleasantly plump, wearing a flowing purple pantsuit floated toward them. She had big hair and bright red lipstick. “Welcome to the Pleasure Palace. I’m Marvis. May I help you find something? A nice DVD perhaps? Or we have some brand-new battery-operated—”

“We’re trying to find a book for our friend,” Sawyer interrupted. He nodded at the table.

“A children’s book?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. Everything is half-off the cover price. All of these belonged to my grandchildren. They are in good shape. The books, that is.” Marvis laughed at her own joke, her double chin bouncing. “Not that my sweet babies aren’t fit as a fiddle, too. They can run circles around me.”

It would be a fair amount of exercise just getting around Grandma Marvis. Liz caught Sawyer’s eye and knew he was thinking the same thing.

“There are over two hundred books here. Every one of my eight grandkids could read before they were five.”

“Our friend comes here all the time. She’s about five-three, fair skin, freckles, blondish-red hair and pregnant.” Sawyer pretended to browse through the pile, all the while keeping an eye on the door.

“Let me think.” The woman tapped her polished pink fingernail against her lips.

Sawyer walked over to the counter. He picked the top DVD off the rack. He looked at the price and pulled a fifty out of his pocket.

“Oh, now I remember. Mary, right?” The woman’s doubled chin tucked under when she smiled.

“That’s the one.”

“Wonderful girl. Loves her books. Always takes one of the classics.” She waved her hand toward the end of the table. “Last time she was here, she got
Little Women.
Said she hoped that if she had a daughter she’d be as pretty as Winona Ryder.”

“When was she in last?” Sawyer asked.

“It had to have been at least a week ago. I was telling Herbert, he’s my man friend, just yesterday that I bet she had her baby. What did she have? She was carrying it so low, I couldn’t help but think it was a boy.”

“No baby yet. In fact,” Sawyer said as he pulled a book off the children’s table and threw another twenty at the woman, “if she happens to stop by, would you tell her to call Liz?”

“I’ll do that. You all have a nice day. Are you sure I can’t interest you in something? We’ve got a whole new line of condoms. Cartoon characters.”

“No thanks.” Sawyer literally pulled Liz out of the store and back to the car. He unlocked her side, threw the merchandise in the backseat and got in on the driver’s side. He started to drive away without another word.

“I wonder if they come in an assorted box,” Liz said.

Sawyer almost ran the car into a light pole.

Not that he needed to worry about causing an unexpected pregnancy. A quick trip to his physician ten years ago had taken care of that. But there were other good reasons to wear protection. With a woman like Liz Mayfield in his bed, he’d probably be hard-pressed to remember that. He’d want her, all of her, without anything to separate the two of them. He’d want—

“Hey, are you all right?” she asked. “You look a little pale.”

Sawyer whipped his eyes back to the road. In another minute, she’d start to analyze him. If she found out what he was thinking, she’d probably jump out of the car. “I’m fine,” he said.

“So, now where?” she asked.

“I’m taking you home.”

“We can’t just give up.”

“I’m not giving up. But until a clue turns up, we wait. Maybe Mary will get smart and call you.”

“You’re determined to think the worst of her, aren’t you?”

“She’s up close and personal with a drug dealer. It’s hard to think of her as Mother Teresa.”

“Why don’t you try thinking of her as a mixed-up, scared, lonely kid?”

“I can’t do that.” He risked a quick glance at her.

Liz folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead. When she spoke, he had to strain to hear her.

“You need to try harder,” she said.

He tried. Every damn day he tried. Tried to rid the streets of scum. Tried to arrest just one more of the human garbage that preyed on young bodies and souls. She had no idea how hard he tried. Just like she had no idea that he wanted her more than he’d wanted a woman in years. Maybe ever. And that, quite frankly, scared the hell out of him.