The Night Stalker_ A Novel Of Suspense Part 26

"You had other things on your mind. Had you seen this woman before?"

"I saw her hanging around the maternity ward. I really didn't notice her, not right away. There are so many people, between the doctors and nurses and volunteers and visitors. There was even a newborn cla.s.s one day. She sort of blended in."

"Had she visited your room before?"

"Yes. She popped in after Martin was born to see how I was doing."

"Can you describe her?"

Lonna closed her eyes. "She was about thirty-five, Italian, maybe five-six or five-seven, kinda plump, wore her hair tied back in a bun, pleasant face."

"Was she nice to you?"

She opened her eyes. They had welled up with tears, and Jimmie grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. "She was sweet," Lonna said. "She reminded me of my mom."

"Which was why you felt comfortable handing her your son."

"Yeah, but I didn't want to at first."

"Then why did you?"

"My baby was coughing, and needed to get his medicine. She offered to take him. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Lonna had just described the cla.s.sic abductor of newborns: a pleasant woman impersonating a hospital employee who ingratiates herself with a mother in order to get her hands on the mother's newborn child. I decided that the Wakefields hadn't done anything wrong, and rose from my crouching position. Both parents relaxed.

"Is there anything else you remember about this woman?" I asked.

"She called herself Tessa," Lonna said. "She really fussed over Martin."

I found myself nodding, and went to the door. Then I had a thought, and turned back to face the couple. "Did Tessa know the name of the medications Martin was being given?"

"Yes," Lonna said. "She asked me what they were called, and wrote it down. She said she wanted to be sure the doctor was giving Martin the right drugs."

"What were their names?"

"Albuterol and theophylline."

I borrowed a pen and slip of paper from Burrell, made Lonna spell the drugs for me, and wrote them down.

"Is that important?" Lonna asked.

I didn't like to tell grieving parents any more than I had to during an investigation, only Lonna and Jimmie Wakefield were sick with worry, and deserved to hear even the tiniest bit of good news. I said, "This is going to sound strange, but that's the best thing you could have told me. Tessa loves your baby. That's why she stole him, and that's why I should have no trouble tracking her down."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE.

I walked outside Lonna Wakefield's room and let my eyes scan the hallway. The floor had been recently mopped, and it reflected my shadow, as well as that of my dog's and Burrell's, both of whom stood behind me. My eyes locked on an emergency exit at the hallway's end. Without conscious thought my feet took me to it, and my hand grabbed the door handle that would lead me outside. Burrell called out in alarm. walked outside Lonna Wakefield's room and let my eyes scan the hallway. The floor had been recently mopped, and it reflected my shadow, as well as that of my dog's and Burrell's, both of whom stood behind me. My eyes locked on an emergency exit at the hallway's end. Without conscious thought my feet took me to it, and my hand grabbed the door handle that would lead me outside. Burrell called out in alarm.

"Jack, you're going to set off the sirens," she said.

"This is the exit that Tessa took when she escaped with the baby," I said.

"We don't know that for certain. There are other exits in the building."

I shook my head, still grasping the door handle. I heard Burrell's shoes clop on the floor as she caught up to me. "Tessa took the path of least resistance, which happens to be this door," I said. "My guess is, she dismantled the siren earlier, and parked her car outside. She was gone before anyone knew the baby was missing."

"You're sure about this," Burrell said.

"Bet you a buck."

"You're on."

I've been hunting down kids long enough to know when I'm right. I pushed open the emergency exit and waited. No siren went off. Burrell let out an exasperated breath.

"It must be h.e.l.l being right all the time," she said.

I entered a dimly lit stairwell and had a quick look around. On the opposite side was another door that led outside. I went to it, and grabbed the handle.

"Want to bet another buck?"

"Not with you."

I opened the door and sunlight flooded the stairwell along with the clamorous noise of traffic on nearby Andrews Avenue. Buster scurried out between my legs and made a beeline for a line of garbage cans hugging the side of the building. I began pulling off the lids and quickly found a drab gray nurse's uniform stuffed into one. The tag inside the collar said X Large. Burrell took the uniform and held it up to the light.

"You never cease to amaze me," she said.

"Check the pockets," I said. "She was in a hurry, and probably didn't bother to clean them out."

Burrell emptied the pockets while I tried to determine where Tessa had parked her car. We were on the eastern side of the hospital, and parking was limited to cars reserved for doctors and high-ranking hospital employees. A small strip of gra.s.s separated the parking area from the street, and I found tire imprints in the gra.s.s.

"Tessa parked her car here," I called to Burrell. "Judging from the s.p.a.ce between the tires, she's driving something pretty small."

"She parked in the gra.s.s? Isn't that a little risky?"

"Desperate people do desperate things," I said. "Find anything?"

"A receipt from Publix. She purchased eighty-six dollars' worth of groceries two days ago, paid cash. Judging from the items she bought, she definitely is married."

"Lots of beer and frozen pizza?"

"Yes. They like to eat."

Burrell stuffed the uniform beneath her arm. "We still don't know her name, or where she lives, or anything else. I don't mean to sound pessimistic, but how do we track her down? Have your trusty dog run down the highway, and pick up her scent?"

Buster had found something smelly in the gra.s.s and was rolling in it. I clicked my fingers to no avail, then answered her. "You need to contact all the local pharmacies and hospitals, and ask them to be on the lookout for any woman who's registered a home birth. They also need to be looking for any prescriptions for albuterol and theophylline. Tessa may have stolen a doctor's script, and written out a prescription for Martin's medicine."

"You think she's going to claim Martin as her own?"

"Yes. Tessa is starting a family."

"This woman isn't your normal criminal, is she?"

"She's probably never broken a law in her life. But apprehending her is still going to be tricky."

"Is she dangerous?"

"Yes."

Burrell's cell phone was ringing. She yanked it out, and made a face. I didn't have to ask her who it was. She said, "Save that thought. There's a Village Inn up the road. I'll meet you there when I'm done with this call, and you can explain this to me."

"Tell the mayor I said h.e.l.lo," I said.

"I'll do that."

I pulled Buster out of the gra.s.s. He'd rolled in something dead, and I dragged him to my car.

I got a towel out of the trunk and cleaned Buster's fur. Dogs rolled in bad smells to cover their own scent and keep their enemies guessing. Right now, I was guessing that Buster needed a bath.

As I put Buster into the car, I saw Jimmie Wakefield coming across the parking lot. He was a huge guy, and his puffed-up chest and face made him look even bigger. He halted a few feet from where I stood, and pointed a finger in my face.

"Why did you say that to Lonna?" he demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"You said you'd have no trouble finding our son. That's bulls.h.i.t. You don't know who this nurse was, or what she's going to do with him. You filled my wife with false hope, you crummy son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h."

It was common for parents of abducted children to fly into rages, and siphon their anger against the very people who were trying to help them. It was part of coping, and something I'd experienced many times.

"You need to calm down," I said.

Jimmie c.o.c.ked his fist. "What I need to do is punch your lights out."

He looked strong enough to kill me. I didn't want to pull my gun and risk shooting him. He was a victim, and needed to be treated that way. I stepped toward him with my arms still at my sides. "What I told you and your wife was true. I will will find your baby." find your baby."

"How can you know that?" he bellowed. "That nurse might have driven Martin down to the Miami airport, and sold him to some couple that's already halfway around the world. I've seen those shows on TV-people steal kids and sell them all the time. It's a big business. How can you stand there and tell me that didn't happen to my son?"

Tears were streaming down his cheeks and his whole body was shaking. I decided to tell him the truth. It was going to hurt, but I had to tell him anyway.

"People don't buy sick babies," I said.

Jimmie blinked, then blinked again. He lowered his fist.

"They don't?" he replied.

"There's no market for them."

"There isn't?"

"None whatsoever. People who traffic in children look for strong, healthy babies to steal. That's their main criterion. Your son is sick and needs attention and medicine for his lungs. That rules him out."

"If people don't steal sick babies, then why did the nurse steal Martin?"

"We won't know for certain until we track her down. But I can give you my best guess. The woman who stole your son wants a baby of her own, but is incapable of having one. That was her motivation. She bought a nurse's uniform, and started visiting maternity wards at different hospitals to become familiar with the procedures. She's been planning this for a long time."

"But Martin's sick sick."

"That's right. And because he's sick, he had to be moved around the floor to get his medicine. That meant different nurses got to put their hands on him. That let this woman step in, and grab him."

Jimmie stared at me. The rage had left his body, leaving a scared and bewildered young man. I stepped toward him, and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"Now I get it," he said.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

A toasted bagel was waiting for me when I slipped into the booth at Village Inn. Burrell had also ordered a pot of coffee, and was pouring herself a fresh mug. toasted bagel was waiting for me when I slipped into the booth at Village Inn. Burrell had also ordered a pot of coffee, and was pouring herself a fresh mug.

"You remembered," I said.

"Jack's rules," she said. "First one orders."

I bit into my bagel. Back when I was a cop, I'd established a number of different rules for the detectives in my unit, one of which was that the first person to a restaurant was required to order for everyone else. It was a great time saver and also forced each detective to be familiar with the others' preferences.

"I would have ordered for your dog, but I don't know what he likes," Burrell said.

"That's easy," I said. "He likes doggie bags."

She smiled at my joke. "I want to hear why the woman who apprehended the Wakefield baby is dangerous. You said she probably isn't a criminal. Arresting someone like that should be easy."

"Not necessarily," I said. "She's been living a lie for the past nine months. That makes her dangerous."

"What do you mean, living a lie?"

"She plans to keep Martin, and claim him as her own child. Babies don't fall out of the sky. Nine months ago, she told her husband and friends and her family that she was pregnant. She's been living that lie ever since."

"And by arresting her, we're going to shatter that lie."