Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“It all sounds very exciting.”
“Plus, no one can give anybody else up because they don’t know each other. It’s just another link in the chain.”
“But what if law enforcement, meaning you, plants a spy? What if someone tries to take down these lovely-sounding people?”
“Well, see, now that I know that you have a husband in law enforcement, maybe you use his contacts to check people out to make sure they’re who they say they are.”
“Except,” I said, smiling at him. “If the chief deputy became aware of a woman being beaten by her husband, there would be no need for any of this moving around business because the chief deputy would handle that himself. Personally.”
“Is that right?” He sneered at me.
“Absolutely. Why don’t you make some calls and check if you don’t believe me?”
He turned to look at Ames. “Hey!”
“Yeah?”
“The chief deputy, does he stick his nose into private business?”
“Like how?”
“Like if he saw a woman getting tuned up––”
“He’d hand somebody their ass.”
“And if he knew about it?”
“He’d hand somebody their ass and then put them in jail. He’s not a guy that fucks around with domestic shit, hate crimes, anything racially motivated or kids. You hurt a kid, you might as well just dig a hole.”
Vega turned back to me. “That doesn’t clear him.”
“Again, why would my husband need some kind of shadow group to help him when he can remove whoever he wants?”
“I think you’re involved, Mr. Harcourt, and so you dragged him in with you.”
I nodded. “So you have a partial plate, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And what was the description of the people who helped Mrs. Regan and her son get into the van?”
“There is none.”
“Then, again, to sum up, partial plate and a van in the wee small hours of the morning, and this is what you have to go on.”
“Plus the fact that this is the second time that your van was spotted in the vicinity of a woman and a child, or children, disappearing.”
I crossed my arms and looked at him. “Detective Vega, may I ask how many times the police were called to the Regan household?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
I nodded. “In your estimation, were the police helpful in assuring Mrs. Regan’s safety?”
He took a breath. “I think maybe the police were a bit lenient with Mr. Regan, considering that his brother is on the force in Brookfield.”
“Really, Vega?” Beatty called over to him.
“Perhaps Mr. Regan needs to just wait and see what happens.”
“Kidnapping is a federal crime, Mr. Harcourt.”
“Indeed. But don’t Mr. and Mrs. Regan have joint custody of their child since they are, in fact, still married?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, what’s a federal crime? As I suggested earlier, couldn’t they just be on holiday?”
“There’s school, Mr. Harcourt.”
“It’s June, Detective Vega.”
“Hello!”
I turned toward the street, and Aja was waving at me as she came around her minivan, making her alarm chirp before she reached the gate and opened it.
“Who is this?”
“This is my sister-in-law,” I told him as Aja reached us, as stunning and glamorous and refined with the pink-and-red Hawaiian-print mask on as she looked without it. “And interestingly enough, she drives a minivan too.”
“What are we talking about?” Aja asked through the mask, which muffled her a bit but not much. She’d always been an excellent enunciator.
“This is Detective Vega, and his partner; Detective Beatty, is on the porch there, and you remember Detective Ames from the last time.”
“Oh yes,” she said, waving at Detective Ames, who sighed like he was just the most miserable sap on earth before he waved back. “How are you, Detective?”
“About the same as I was the last time I talked to you, Dr. Harcourt.”
Her eyes squinted, so I knew she was smiling.
“Why did Ames talk to you, Dr. Harcourt?”
“Oh, because Jory and I have the same van, and the plates only differ by two numbers. Isn’t that wild?”
Detective Vega looked at her, then me, then her again. “Are you kidding?”
She shook her head.
“Do you work with Sodalite as well, Dr. Harcourt?”
“No, Detective, I’m in educational reform. I don’t work at a beverage facility.”
“It’s not––”
“Though there’s nothing wrong with working at a beverage facility, you understand. I just had a different calling.”
“I––” The noise he made was pure frustration. “––listen, Sodalite is an organization that takes women who are victims of domestic abuse and moves them across the country to a new home.”
“Oh, how marvelous.”
“No, Dr. Har––it’s against the law.”
“Of course it is, as it should be.”
“So you understand why we need to find these people.”
She put her hand over her heart. “What? Oh no, Detective, I thought you meant the domestic abuse. Because that is against the law.”
“Yes, but––”
“And if the police don’t do anything, then what are people to do?”
“There are other avenues than a person taking their kids and running.”
“Of course there are, but certainly in times like this, with a pandemic where so many agencies have staff telecommuting, then the options, already small, would become infinitesimal.”