Part 15 (2/2)
He hit the message b.u.t.ton.
”Hey. It's Carole. We just wanted to let you know that Junie had her baby last week. Baby boy, cute as can be. They named him Nathaniel. Give us a call when you get a chance. You have the number. . . .”
”That was my cousin,” Will explained as he hit the delete b.u.t.ton.
”Cute name, Nathaniel.”
”Yeah.” He made a mental note to send something to cousin Junie for the baby.
”Will. Evan Crosby. Got your message late, I'm just back from the training program at Quantico, trying to catch up here. To answer your question, I did ask my old partner from the Lyndon PD to find out if there's any record at the courthouse of the three amigos spending time together, but I haven't heard from him. I will be back at my county job on Monday, so I'll ask around and get back to you. By the way, I heard about Unger getting it. I can't believe we were all so wrong about Lowell. Annie's taking it hard, that she so misread him. Anyway, I'll be talking to you.” There was a brief pause, then, ”Oh. Were you and Miranda able to come up with any other likely victims? Just curious . . .”
”You heard all that?” Will asked.
”Yes,” Miranda said. ”Poor Annie. I'm sure she does feel badly. I think I'll give her a call. . . .”
”You going into the office?”
”Today? It's Sunday,” she reminded him.
”That's never stopped you before.”
”True enough. Yeah, I'll probably take a run in.”
”Well, maybe I'll see you there.”
”Okay. See you. And thanks. For the bed in the middle of the night. For thinking to make breakfast for me.”
”Anytime,” he said, and disconnected.
Will sat on the edge of the desk and tried to decide if Miranda had really left because she was wide awake, or if she just didn't want the intimacy of facing him over breakfast this morning. It was a tough call. Given their history, just friends just friends might be harder to pull off than he'd expected. might be harder to pull off than he'd expected.
On the other hand, maybe friends.h.i.+p is overrated.
He tapped restless fingers on the desk, then went into the kitchen, where he tried to a.n.a.lyze the situation while he finished making breakfast for himself. Midway through the first stack of French toast he decided a phone call was in order. Between bites, he dialed Anne Marie McCall's cell and left a message.
By the time he finished eating, she'd returned the call and agreed to meet him at the office at one.
Back to work, he told himself as he drained his coffee cup and deposited it, along with his plate, in the dishwasher. he told himself as he drained his coffee cup and deposited it, along with his plate, in the dishwasher. Keep it focused. Don't let the bad guys win. Keep it focused. Don't let the bad guys win.
Watch Miranda's back . . .
Genna peered out the window and watched the snow pile higher around the fence that outlined the compound. She'd been hoping that the storm would pa.s.s by this time, but she'd had no such luck. For the second day in a row, the snow continued to drift. If it didn't stop soon, there'd be no way she'd be able to leave the compound that afternoon with Caroline, the girl whose essay on self-discipline had been chosen as the best of the week.
Last week's trip into Linden had been uneventful, but of course, that was the point.
She and Eileen had ridden with Daniel, a large, dour man who rarely strayed far from the reverend's side. When he parked next to the local market, Genna and her charge had jumped out. Knowing Daniel watched every step she took, Genna had put a hand on Eileen's arm to hold her back. Together she and the girl had walked-slowly-to the chain drugstore in the center of town. Once inside, the normally shy Eileen perked up a bit. After having been behind the gates of the compound for several months, she was dazzled by the array of products, as if she'd forgotten what it was like to shop. Then again, hadn't Genna heard that Eileen had lived in shelters and on the streets for the past three years? Even a modest shop might have been beyond her means.
With Genna by her side, the girl wandered from aisle to aisle, touching hair clips in one, nail polish in another, a long-handled bath brush in yet another.
”Do you see anything you'd like to have?” Genna asked.
”I don't know.” Eileen had studied a box of fake nails. ”Everything looks so . . . fun.”
”Why not look for something you can enjoy for a long time?” Genna suggested. ”I noticed that you like to write poetry. Perhaps you'd like a special notebook and a pen to write your poems with.”
It had taken almost forty-five minutes, but Eileen had finally selected a fat spiral notebook with a cover the color of blue denim, and a pale yellow pen that wrote with blue ink.
”Thank you, Miss Ruth.” Eileen had beamed when they left the store. ”Thank you so much.”
”You earned it. It's your reward for having done well with your essay.”
They stood at the corner where the two main streets of Linden intersected. Across the street and down two blocks, the Linden Diner marked the boundary of the small town.
”We'll have lunch at the diner there,” Genna had told her. ”But we'll have to watch the time. We don't want to be late meeting up with Daniel.”
Eileen had taken forever to order from the menu, giving them precious little time to eat. Spurred on by Jayne the waitress, Eileen had finally settled on a hamburger and fries, and an old-fas.h.i.+oned milk shake. Not having any particular interest in food, Genna ordered the same, then wondered if she'd be able to safely manage a phone call. She knew from her visit here on the day she first entered the compound that the phone was back behind the door leading to the restrooms. However, should Daniel come into the diner looking for them, he'd see Eileen sitting alone. If he found Genna on the phone, all the more problematic for her. On the other hand, she'd had no contact with John for several weeks, and surely by now he'd be worried, both professionally and personally. Of course, she knew there were other agents in the area. She just didn't know who or where they were, or what information was getting back to the Bureau. It simply had been too dangerous to risk bringing any communication device into the compound.
She'd decided she'd risk making a call, and was just rising from her seat when the door opened. Daniel had walked in, headed right for their table, and Genna's heart sank even as she plastered a smile onto her face.
”We were just finis.h.i.+ng up,” she'd told him.
”It's time to get back,” he'd replied. All the way back to the compound, she'd wondered how the report to Reverend Prescott would go.
If Daniel had had negative thoughts, he must have kept them to himself, because aside from asking Genna if she'd enjoyed her outing, Prescott had had little to say. She a.s.sumed that she and Caroline would be permitted to leave with Daniel again today. a.s.suming, of course, that the snow stopped.
By noon, it had. At one, Genna grabbed her coat and met the excited young girl at the front door of the block building that held the small cla.s.srooms.
”You should borrow boots, Miss Ruth,” Caroline told her.
”I wish I knew someone who was willing to trade for a while,” Genna said, looking ruefully at her leather shoes.
”Miss Joan is in the infirmary. Maybe she will let you borrow her boots for a while.”
”Stay here, and wait for Daniel.” Genna took off for the wooden structure next to the cla.s.srooms. ”Tell him I will be right back. . . .”
Genna found Miss Joan way too ill with the flu to care who was wearing her boots just then. Leaving her own shoes under the bed in the makes.h.i.+ft hospital room, Genna pulled on the boots. They were a half size too big, but even so, they were warmer and provided more traction on the snowy ground.
”I'll bring them back later this afternoon,” Genna had promised.
”No hurry,” Joan replied without opening her eyes. ”I'm not planning on going anywhere for a while. . . .”
Unlike Eileen the week before, Caroline knew exactly what she wanted. A sketchbook and some colored pencils, a pack of gum, and she was ready to go. A plate full of chicken fingers and French fries, a hot fudge sundae, and a c.o.ke, and Caroline's day was complete.
”This is such a nice thing you do for us,” she'd told Genna as she got out of the Jeep once they'd returned home. ”You're the nicest person here. I can't wait to use my new sketchpad.”
”Maybe you'll let me see some of your sketches,” Genna replied.
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