Lullabies and Lies (6 page)

She crossed out Cleveland and wrote in
Nashville
.

“Janie didn’t want me to know she’d been back to Nashville, where all this started.” She tickled Emily’s chin and was rewarded with a toothless smile.

“I can’t let her get away with this again. There’s been too much heartache already.” She raised her chin.

Determination flared inside her as she secured the delicate anklet between the pages of the notebook, then pushed it back down into the drawer, beneath a stack of papers.

“That should be hidden well enough.” Bess picked up Emily and bounced her on her lap as she reached for the bottle. “Emily, don’t tell anyone where that book is, okay?” She chuckled. “If anyone ever gets their hands on it, I’ll go to prison. Now here’s your bottle. Isn’t that good? You’re such a little sweetheart. You’ll see your mommy soon. I promise.” She shifted the small weight in her arms. “Tomorrow evening, we’ll go for a drive, and find a pay phone to call from, so the police can’t trace us.”

Bess nodded to herself. Janie had never come back for a baby inside of a week. She liked to make sure everything was set up before she had to pick up the child.

She shook her head. “God forbid Janie should be bothered with a baby herself for even one day.”

She tried to ignore the small voice that kept warning her that something was different about this child. Janie hadn’t been acting like her usual cool-as-a-cucumber self.

She’d been agitated. What if she came back early? Or called while Bess and Emily were gone? What if she found out what Bess was planning to do? Janie was ruthless. Bess had no doubt Janie could provide evidence that would put Bess in jail and leave Janie in the clear.

That didn’t matter. Bess held out a finger and Emily Rose grasped it trustingly. Bess’s eyes filled with tears.

The only thing that mattered was this child, and all the other children.

Janie’s baby stealing was about to stop.

46 hours missing

HIRAM COGBURN KNOCKED on apartment number one. The foyer of the old house on a backstreet near Vanderbilt University had two apartments downstairs and two upstairs. He remembered it from back in the day, when Ed and Janie had lived upstairs in apartment number four.

A twinge of irritation cramped his ample belly. It soured his stomach to think about how his old law school buddy had ended up in the money and was running for the New York State Legislature, while Hiram was reduced to chasing ambulances and advertising on cable for DUI cases. Life just wasn’t fair.

When he’d gotten the call from Ed’s crazy wife, telling him she needed his help diverting a private investigator’s attention from Ed, Hiram had refused to get involved. But Janie had threatened him with exposure if he didn’t help her.
Ed’s future is at stake,
she’d told him.

As if he cared
.

He’d reminded her that for every illegal act he’d committed, she’d done a dozen, but then she’d mentioned a dollar amount that had set his mouth to watering.

Still, it was a tough decision. He’d always liked Ed, but Janie Gross scared the spit out of him. She was nuts. There was no predicting what she would do if he pissed her off enough.

Her final words on the phone still rang in his ears.
I’ll squash you like a bug, Hiram, and you know I can do it.
She was right. He knew.

Still, he needed the money. And Janie was clever. She
wanted Sunny Loveless off their scent, and she’d planned the break-in at the investigator’s office to take care of that. Hiram had mined Loveless’s case files for ideas to distract her from Ed and Janie. He made mysterious threatening phone calls, pretending to be disgruntled clients or injured parties from her recent cases.

It was working, too. Loveless hadn’t contacted the Grosses again.

But Janie couldn’t leave well enough alone. She’d come to Nashville to check on Hiram, and ended up stealing Sunny Loveless’s baby. Now Hiram was in too deep to get out.

He knocked again.

The fellow who opened the door looked eighty-five if he was a day.

Hiram flashed his fake badge and smiled at him. “Good evening.” He paused for effect, like the cops did on TV. He liked playing a detective. It made him feel important.

“Mr. Joseph Mabry? Hate to bother you so late. We just need a few minutes more of your time. Need to straighten out a few things.”

“Police yesterday and twice today? I told that detective this afternoon that y’all know everything I know.”

The police had been here this afternoon? Hiram swallowed nervously. “Uh, we’re all pitching in on this case. You know how it is when a kid goes missing.”

Why had the police come back here today? Had Loveless told them something else? His stomach churned. “Well, I just need to confirm a couple of things. Now, how long ago did Ms. Loveless first contact you?”

“Month or so ago. She said she was looking for someone named Jane from back around ’91. I told her
everything I remembered about Ed Gross and his wife. I’d plumb forgot about those two until Ms. Loveless showed up asking all those questions. Hell, I hardly ever saw Ed Gross, and that wife of his was more scarce than him. She never stuck her nose out the door. The police think they stole the Loveless woman’s baby?”

Hiram took a ragged envelope and a stubby pencil from his pocket. “We’re looking at all Ms. Loveless’s cases. Trying to eliminate suspects in the disappearance of her baby. You know how it is. She mentioned your name in her police report.”

“Right. She said there were four Janes that she was trying to track down. Looking for her client’s birth parents.” Mabry squinted at him. “Say, haven’t I seen you before?”

“Nope. I just need to see the apartment where they stayed.”

The old man sighed and looked behind him, toward the pallid blue light flickering in the darkness. “Awright, but can we hurry? I’m watching
Law & Order.
”

Hiram followed him up the stairs.

Talk to him,
Janie had said when she’d seen Mabry’s name in the Loveless woman’s case file on Jennifer Curry.
Make sure he hasn’t told the police anything. If he remembers me being pregnant, or the day we left town, he could ruin us all. He’s got to be ninety, so he probably doesn’t remember how to pee, but I can’t take that chance.

At the top of the stairs, the old man was hardly out of breath. Hiram, on the other hand, was wheezing. He hitched up his pants and wiped his face with a handkerchief.

“So, it’s real sad, her baby being stolen, isn’t it?” Hiram struggled for breath.

“Yep. Real sad. She was a nice young lady. The Grosses stayed in apartment number four.” Mabry pointed a gnarled finger at a door that was tucked in behind the stairwell. “I can’t let you inside. It’s rented. Summer students. Mostly the apartments are empty this time of year.”

“Then why’d you drag me up here?” Hiram huffed, struggling to catch his breath. “You could have told me that downstairs.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to see the apartment. Them other detectives were interested in how the door’s hidden by the stairs.”

“Right, right.” Hiram tucked his handkerchief back in his pocket.

“I told Ms. Loveless I thought the wife was in the family way, but it was hard to tell. She stayed to herself and always wore them baggy dresses. But I never did see a baby. Then they up and left June 30, ’91. Just disappeared in the night.”

“You remember the exact day they left?” Hiram hadn’t remembered. All he knew was, he and Ed had been job hunting together, up until the day he’d come by to pick up Ed and discovered they were gone. Surprised the hell out of him. And scared him, truth be told. He hadn’t slept for weeks, afraid the police were going to show up on his doorstep.

He’d have bet his right arm that skipping town had been Janie’s idea. He’d never liked Janie. She’d always been weird, and ruthless. He wouldn’t have put it past her to turn him in for his part in their baby-selling racket. He’d
been petrified that he’d go down alone. Nothing ever seemed to touch Janie. It was as if she were invisible.

“Tell me, Mr. Mabry. Did you mention the date they left to the police?”

“More’n likely.”

The date was the one thing Janie was so worried about. Hiram had wondered why, until he’d spent a day searching through the newspaper archives, reading every news story from that day fifteen years ago. One story in particular had caught his eye, the story of the disappearance of a toddler from a public space, and suddenly it all made sense. He understood why Janie was so worried.

It was nice, having something on her for a change. Maybe she’d pay him more, when she found out how much he knew.

He knew the truth. Still, if he could find the answer that easily, then so could Sunny Loveless. So could the police. It would be obvious why Ed and Janie had fled town so abruptly. If Loveless had put the when and the why together, and if she’d told the police, Ed and Janie would be toast. And Hiram knew they’d take him down with them.

“Are we done now?”

Hiram shook his head, making a show of writing on the envelope. “Just a couple more questions. How is it you remember the exact date?”

“Why, ’cause their rent was due on the first of the month. They skipped out on me the night before.” He shook his head. “First time I ever had a tenant skip out on me. I’ll never forget it.”

Mabry shuffled over to the stairs and put his hand on
the banister. “I gotta get back downstairs. I’m missing
Law & Order.
The original. That’s my favorite.”

The old man squinted at him. “You sure look familiar. You never lived here—I’d remember that. But you’ve been around before.”

Hiram shook his head. “Not me. I guess I’ve just got one of those faces.”

“Nope. I know I’ve seen you before. Right around the time the Grosses lived here. Let me see that badge again.”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong.”

“And I’m telling you I never forget a face.”

Hiram felt sweat running down the side of his neck and pooling at the base of his spine. He couldn’t afford to have the old man recognize him. He needed to get out of here.

“Well, you forgot this one. I hate that you had to miss
Law & Order.
” He put out a hand, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. Old men tripped and fell downstairs all the time, didn’t they? “Here. Let me give you a hand.”

Chapter Three

59 hours missing

The next morning Griff slammed the door of his rental car and lifted his gaze to the brick Victorian house with its white gingerbread molding. In the early-morning sunlight it looked elegant and lovely and proud, just like its owner.

A small wood-burned sign hung over the entrance. Loveless, Inc. We Specialize in Happy Endings.

The ache in his chest grew. He ran his palm across his breastbone and took a deep breath.

What would Sunny have to say about happy endings once he told her about the suspicious death Carver had called him about at three o’clock this morning?

Walking up to the front door, he rang the doorbell.

A man of medium height in a wrinkled sport coat opened the door.

Griff showed him his badge. “Griff Stone, FBI.”

The man pulled his coat back to reveal his Nashville Police Department badge. “The Lieutenant told me you might show up.”

He stepped back and Griff strode past him into the foyer. A staircase faced a bay window on his right; there was a closed door on the left wall, and a tall doorway arched ten feet in front of him.

In the doorway between the foyer and the living room, a Queen Anne table served as a reception desk, and behind the table sat a slender elderly lady in a bright pink jogging suit. She had a phone propped between her shoulder and chin and was typing rapidly on a computer keyboard.

“Yes, Mr. Thomas, that’s right. As long as you continue to pay your child support, you can claim the deductions.” Her mouth pursed with disgust as she listened.

Griff let his gaze roam the reception area. It was clean and bright, with gauzy curtains at the windows and family photographs on the walls.

Several of the photos were of Ms. Loveless with a beautiful, fair-skinned baby with downy blond hair. The kidnapped child. He’d seen a newspaper clipping, but now he quickly studied the infant’s features. His gaze took in Ms. Loveless’s happy smile and the brilliant emerald sparkle in her eyes as she held her child. His heart twisted.

“Fine then,” the woman at the desk said briskly. “The IRS thanks you.”

As Griff turned, she hit Enter on her keyboard with a flourish and hung up the phone. “Deadbeat piece of scum,” she muttered.

Griff cocked an eyebrow. “The IRS?”

The lady shrugged as she briefly met his gaze, her eyes twinkling. “I used to be an investigator. The lingo comes in handy if I need some information.”

She dropped her gaze to his shoes. As she panned his pants legs to his belt, then on up, he felt as if he was being measured for something—possibly a coffin.

“You must be the FBI agent. If you were a local, I’d remember you.”

“I’m Special Agent Griffin Stone.”

The lady’s sharp brown eyes snapped to his face. Her eyebrows lifted a couple of millimeters. “You have ID?”

He held it out. “And you are?”

She glanced down at his badge and ID card, then back up at him. “Lillian Jackson. Next-door neighbor, friend, assistant. What can I do for you, Mr. Stone?”

“I need to see Ms. Loveless. It’s important.”

The lady’s face changed and she clutched her collar. “Is it Emily? Did you find her?”

“No ma’am. Sorry. But I need to discuss some things with Sunny, ask her some questions.”

The lady looked toward the staircase. “She’s not up yet. She hasn’t slept since Tuesday night. I’m intimately familiar with the case. Perhaps I can help you.”

“Not with this. I need to talk to her,” he said. “Now.”

Lillian sat up, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Lil. I’m awake.”

The hoarse, soft voice floated down to Griff. He lifted his gaze.

She’d descended a few steps down the staircase, far enough to see his face.