Swallow The Hook Part 25

"And he's not going to get any better, is he?"

"Parkinson's is a progressive disease. Eventually it's fatal," she answered coldly.

"His treatment must be very expensive. Does your insurance cover all that?"

"Get to the point, Chief Bennett. This is all irrelevant," the lawyer objected.

"And taking care of an invalid must be very time-consuming," Frank went on. "I imagine your children have careers and young kids to take care of-they're probably not able to help much. In fact, if something were to happen to you, I suppose your husband would have to go into a nursing home."

Constance took a drink from the water gla.s.s on the table. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm quite healthy."

"I can see that," Frank replied. "I meant if you should have some legal trouble that would put you out of commission for a while..."

"That's enough! You're threatening my client. Ask her what you intended to ask about Melanie Powers, or we're leaving."

Constance looked approvingly at her lawyer, and Frank could tell that he'd rattled her a little. Now he was ready to move in.

"Melanie Powers received an e-mail offering to help her give a baby up for adoption. She arranged to meet that person in the park in Verona to discuss it. That person was you, wasn't it Mrs. Stiler?"

"No."

"I have a witness who saw you talking to Melanie in the park on Monday."

"Who?" the lawyer interjected.

"A young mother who was there with her twin boys. You probably remember seeing them, Mrs. Stiler."

"Since I wasn't there, Chief Bennett, I don't."

"This woman can identify you," Frank maintained.

"I don't know any young people in Verona. I don't see how she can say she knows me," Constance said.

"She knows Melanie, and she saw who Mel was talking to."

"Did she identify my client by name?"

"She described her in detail."

"What detail? How she was dressed?" The lawyer gestured toward the winter coat hanging on a rack by the door. "My client wears a green L.L. Bean jacket. I think I've seen about ten of them walking around this week-they're very popular."

Constance Stiler let go of the gla.s.s she'd been holding and sat back in her chair.

"The witness said the woman she saw had striking silver hair," Frank answered.

"Put my client in a lineup with five other mature ladies with silver hair, Chief Bennett. If your witness can pick her out, then maybe we have something to talk about. Let's go, Mrs. Stiler."

Frank waved them back into their seats. "By tomorrow I'll be able to speak to Melanie Powers in the hospital. She's going to tell me how you coerced her into going to the Veech place. She's going to explain what you did to her up there. Why don't you make it easier on yourself and tell me what part Anita and her family played in this adoption scam?"

Constance stood up. "Everyone on Harkness Road knows about the Veeches' dogs, Chief Bennett. I wouldn't dream of going up there." She fixed him with a sphinxlike smile. "When you find out what inspired that poor girl to take such a chance, do let me know."

She slid her arms into the coat that her lawyer held for her. The man opened the door and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Good afternoon. I hope this has been helpful."

Frank listened as their footsteps petered out down the hall. If Constance Stiler was the weakest link, this case was bound up in an anchor chain.

Frank stood at the nurses' station on the second floor of the Saranac Lake Hospital, arguing with Melanie Powers's doctor.

"She's had a terrible trauma," the doctor said. "She's loaded up on painkillers. I doubt you'll get much sense out of her."

"It's vitally important-just let me try."

The doctor scowled. "All right, but put a mask and gown on-she's at risk of infection."

Frank slipped into Melanie's room. She lay propped up in bed, her head, shoulders, and right arm swathed in bandages. Her pretty face peeked out, remarkably unscathed. She glanced at him without recognition-probably thought he was another doctor come to poke and prod her.

"Hi, Melanie...it's Chief Bennett."

Her eyes, which had been at half-mast, flew open.

"How are you feeling?"

She smiled slightly. "A little better."

He could see that she was groggy. No time for pleas-antries-he'd better get right to the point. "Mel, I need to ask you some questions. Who did you meet at the park in Verona?"

"Mrs. Stiler."

"Did she offer to place your baby for adoption?"

"We talked about babies. She was careful what she said, but I knew...." Melanie's eyelids fluttered.

Frank gently took her left hand in his and squeezed it slightly. Mel resumed.

"I went back to her house in my car, like I was still interested in knowing more about it. Then after we talked, she left me alone to make a phone call and I slipped out the back door. But her husband saw me."

"She didn't go with you to the Veeches?" Could Constance have been telling the truth after all?

"No..." Again the eyelids dipped.

"Melanie!" he said sharply. She snapped to attention. "Why did you go to the Veeches?"

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I overheard something at work, and I thought I'd check on that, too."

"What?" Frank demanded.

"That Ralph is growing something up there. Plants..."

Her eyes shut, and Frank couldn't rouse her again.

Frank entered the empty office and plopped down at his desk, grateful to sit and rest.

The raid on the Veech place had gone surprisingly well. He'd been in on the discovery of the generator that ran the fluorescent lights and heating system that kept three hundred young marijuana plants growing in a shed deep in the woods behind the Veeches' living quarters. He'd even stayed long enough to witness the uncovering of hundreds of packets of PCP. But he'd left when the state police handcuffed Ralph, Anita, and Pap, because he couldn't bear the reproachful glare of little Olivia as she sat in a patrol car, waiting for Trudy to come and take her away.

So he had solved the mystery of where Dean Jacobson had gotten his drug of choice, and figured out why Anita had been so anxious to keep him from snooping around Harkness Road-but he was no further along on proving who ran Sheltering Arms.

In the middle of his blotter lay a manila folder with a note written in Earl's childish scrawl. "Thought you might be interested in this. I got it from my uncle Harry's brother's wife. She's a nurse. I went to see Melanie today, but they still won't let her have visitors."

Frank opened the folder. Inside was a slightly crooked photocopy of a hospital form. At the top his eyes scanned the typewritten words Veech, Anita, before being drawn by a section outlined in yellow hi-liter. "Discharge notes: Mother relinquished baby for adoption. Baby left hospital in custody of Barry Sutter, Esq."

34.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Frank had hauled Earl into the office, where he cowered in his chair as Frank paced back and forth. "Haven't you learned one thing, one friggin' thing from me, in a year and a half?"

Frank waved the file folder. "This is illegally obtained evidence-we can't use it. The judge specifically denied me access to Anita's records."

"Yeah, but can't we use it to pressure Mrs. Stiler? Tell her we know that the Goldings and Green Tomorrow are behind the adoption scam? Make her admit she works for them?"

"How can we do that? Think, Earl, think! Her lawyer's going to demand to know how I came upon this information. And if your cousin's father's brother's wife-whoever she is-is anything like you, she's probably blabbed her part in it to everyone who'll listen."

Earl looked miffed at this a.s.sault on the honor of his extended family. "She has not. I told her how important it was to keep it a secret. Besides, she'd get in trouble at work if anyone knew it was her."

Frank still seethed. "You're a loose cannon, Earl. Why do you go off and do these things without talking it over with me first?"

"I was just over at the hospital and I ran into Gail, and, well, it seemed like a good idea. I didn't think-"

"That's just it, Earl-you don't think. You. Do. Not. Think. Now get out of here."

Earl slunk toward the door.

"And I'm not writing that letter of recommendation for the police academy!" Frank yelled after him.

Frank found it hard to concentrate; every drop of blood in his body felt as if it were boiling through his brain. He tried taking a few deep breaths to calm down, but he'd really never bought into the whole yoga thing. He got up and kicked the wastepaper can a few times, and felt a little better.

Green Tomorrow was linked to Sheltering Arms. Baby-selling was just another activity the group used to raise money. Their operation might reach all over the country, for all he knew.

The tricky part was to make the case against Sheltering Arms without using the illegal evidence Earl had produced-and without revealing that he knew it. That ruled out using the state police auditors to try to piece together the money trail between Green Tomorrow and Anita Veech, Constance Stiler, and the Finns.

Constance and Anita weren't yielding to pressure. Meredith Golding would undoubtedly be just as resilient.

It was time to put all his energy into finding the Finns, and Mary Pat's baby. Now he had the advantage of knowing that the baby's father had never given permission for her adoption, and wanted her back. He reached for the phone. Here was something he could use state police help for without compromising himself, or Earl.

Frank sat in the computer lab of the Buchanan Open Academy, looking over the shoulder of Nick Clymer, the state police computer technician. The princ.i.p.al of Brian Finn's school had freely given them access to the computer network. Brian's disappearance had undermined his confidence in the security of the system.

"Who knows what he was up to in here," the princ.i.p.al complained. "For all I know, the whole school's in here shopping on eBay and downloading p.o.r.n. Can you check on that for me while you're in there?"

Nick grunted.

Frank shifted impatiently as screens full of unintelligible code flashed before his eyes. Nick tapped, squinted, tapped some more, then sat back with a snort of satisfaction. He pointed to something on the screen. "Someone's been logging in remotely, using Finn's pa.s.sword."

"Remotely from where?"

"Probably a public access computer-a cybercafe or a library. We can trace it, eventually."

"What did Finn do when he got in?"

"Looks like he accessed some files, then deleted them."

"Deleted them? Can you get them back?"

"No, but it looks like Finn ran a pretty tight ship here: Everything's backed up automatically. We'll find it there. He couldn't erase the backup remotely."

Frank settled back to watch Nick work.

"This could take a while. Why don't you go get some coffee or something."

Frank forced himself to stay out for forty-five minutes. When he returned, Nick was pulling some doc.u.ments from a printer. Frank took a copy of what looked like an e-mail and read: Dear Mr. Finn: I understand your concern for the lack of doc.u.mentation. Rest a.s.sured that after we receive the final payment, you will receive the certificate.

Barry "Is that it?" Frank asked. "He must be referring to the baby's birth certificate, but he's kept everything intentionally vague."

"Look at this one."

Dear Mr. Finn: The BM has experienced some unantic.i.p.ated expenses. We will require an additional $20,000 to complete the transaction.

Barry "BM must be Birth Mother. Can you prove what computer these messages were sent from?" Frank asked.

"If you know who this Barry is, we can get a warrant and seize his computer. They'll show up on there," Nick replied.

"Do it. And find where Finn was when he accessed this system."

Frank kept busy tracking down the Finns' friends and relatives, while Nick worked his magic. By the time the computer jock called with the news that Brian Finn had used the computer at the Glens Falls Public Library last Tuesday, Frank had discovered that Eileen Finn's sister Brenda lived in Glens Falls.

In less than an hour, he sat in Brenda Fitzhugh's kitchen. She bore an amazing resemblance to her sister that extended right down to her voice and gestures, even to the impeccable crispness of her clothes. "I don't know what's going on," she told Frank as she picked at the hem of the placemat before her. "Eileen came here alone on Friday the fourth. She said she came to say good-bye, that she and Brian would be away for a while, but she wouldn't say where. She wouldn't answer any of my questions. Said it was best I didn't know. Then she kissed me and left."

"Where would they go? Is there a vacation home somewhere? A town in another part of the country where they might have some connections?"

Brenda shook her head, looking teary-eyed. "I can't think of anything. Why is this happening? Is Eileen in danger?"

"The adoption they were trying to arrange was illegal, Mrs. Fitzhugh. We think they took off with the baby."

"But the deal fell through. Eileen was devastated."