Part 26 (1/2)
”Those are my baby's clothes,” he said tearfully.
”You're sure?” I asked.
”Yes, sir.”
I examined the clothes and found several long red hairs stuck in the fabric of the s.h.i.+rt. Shannon's abductor had given her a haircut.
”Let me see the bag,” I said.
Tram handed me the bag. I turned it upside down, and a metal can fell out. It made a funny sound as it rolled down the pavement.
Tram ran after the can and s.n.a.t.c.hed it off the ground. He tossed it to me, and I grabbed it out of the air and stared at the label. Blue spray paint.
”They must have changed her hair color,” Tram said.
I continued to stare at the label. Blue hair would have made Shannon stand out like a sore thumb. There was another reason for the spray paint, something as devious as the people behind the abduction, only I didn't have a clue what it was.
I found myself thinking of the little girl who'd disappeared at the theme park in Fort Lauderdale. Her abductors had changed her appearance so that even her parents, who'd been standing by the turnstiles as the crowds left, couldn't identify her. Her clothes and a can of blue spray paint were later found in the trash, yet I was never able to make a connection between them.
I have a maxim that has served me well. I always a.s.sume that the criminals I'm chasing are as smart as I am, or smarter. It may not always be true, but it keeps me on my toes. Driving toward the Magic Kingdom's main entrance in the golf cart, I suddenly realized what the can of blue spray paint was for.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN.
I jumped out of the cart as it reached the turnstiles. Catching Sally's eye, I held the can of blue spray paint triumphantly over my head. She hurried over to me. jumped out of the cart as it reached the turnstiles. Catching Sally's eye, I held the can of blue spray paint triumphantly over my head. She hurried over to me.
”Please tell me you have some good news,” she said.
”Shannon's abductors have cut her hair, changed her clothes, and also changed the color of her shoes,” I said. ”My guess is, they made her look like a little boy.”
Sally took the can of paint out of my hand.
”Is this the new color of her shoes?”
”Yes. Get me some paper.”
Sally went to her golf cart and removed all the paper from a clipboard on the dash. She handed the paper to me, and I sprayed all the sheets with blue paint and waved them in the air to dry. Then Sally and I approached each pair of guards watching a turnstile and handed them one of the sheets.
”Look at the shoes of each child leaving the park,” I instructed them. ”If you see this color, grab the kid and yell for us.”
Sally repeated the instructions, making sure the guards understood. Then we went to where Tram and Peggy Sue stood on the side in the gra.s.s. Tram had brought Shannon's clothes out of the park, and Peggy Sue was clutching them against her chest. I gently touched her arm.
”Peggy Sue,” I said.
”What do you want?” she whispered.
”You need to pull yourself together. If there's any person your daughter will run to, it's going to be you.”
Peggy Sue swiped at her eyes. ”What if she's gone? What if they already took her out of the park? What then?”
I wanted to tell Peggy Sue not to think those dark thoughts, but I bit my tongue instead. There was no greater sin in my line of work than making false promises.
”We're going to find her,” Tram said, sounding strong.
I stood by the turnstiles with Sally and watched families leave the park. Each child pa.s.sed briefly before my eyes, then was gone forever. More than once I thought I'd spotted Shannon, only to realize I was wrong. Finally Sally spoke up.
”Why are you so jumpy?” she asked.
”Times like this I can't stand still,” I said.
”Why don't you go back inside and see if you can spot her?”
she suggested.
It sounded like a good idea. An elderly couple wearing mouse ears walked past. They were smiling and holding hands like newlyweds. I approached the man and offered to buy the mouse ears from him. The man refused my money and handed the ears to me.
”Have fun,” the man said.
Sally got me back inside the park. Thousands of people were waiting to leave, and I was reminded how incredibly loud small children could be, especially when they were unhappy.
I walked to the rear of the lines, feeling the hot macadam baking through my sandals. Reaching the lines' end, I turned around and started walking back, looking at little kids' shoes without being too obvious. Several irate fathers accused me of trying to cut in.
”I've lost my family,” I said.
The ruse worked, and let me keep moving forward. It was a slow process, and after ten minutes, I called Sally on my cell to see how things were going.
”No sign of her yet,” she said.
”Keep the faith,” I said.
I slipped the phone into my pocket. I'd reached the middle of the lines and was standing in a sea of unhappy little kids. I reminded myself that Shannon's abductors were playing the roles of parents, and when they reached the turnstiles, they'd be giving star performances. Coming up from behind was the best way to go.
Lowering my head, I continued my search.
Most cops I knew believed in G.o.d. I'd always found this strange, considering the amount of human suffering and tragedy that cops were subjected to. Perhaps a religious belief was the best way to cope with these experiences. Or to explain when amazing things happened.
Right now, I was a believer.
I'd spotted Shannon Dockery. She was part of a family of five and was standing a hundred yards from the turnstiles with her thumb stuck in her mouth.
I quickly noted her abductors. The woman pretending to be Shannon's mom was a thirtyish brunette with permed hair and fake fingernails painted in custom-car colors, and the man pretending to be her dad was a bearded truck-driver type who spit out a steady banter of corny jokes. They looked just as ordinary as anyone else.