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Chapter 4 - Chapter four

CHAPTER 4

"A fucking mess." Ikeyo squinted back at the house and shook his head. He removed a handkerchief from a pocket and mopped his brow. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples. "Best I can tell you is we have a missing five- month-old baby who was taken right out of his carriage in the backyard while he was napping. His name is Mathieu Alexander Paquet."

Ikeyo handed me a five-by-seven print of the child in question. "That one's for you. Recently taken. The neighbor down the road called 911 when her daughter reported a woman, and I quote, 'Screaming her head off.' The mother, Clara Paquet, is inconsolable, as you can plainly hear. I can barely get her to string five words together, which is not helping anybody. I've also told my crew not to go near the carriage until you've seen it. Cordoned off the area."

"That's not ominous at all. Why is that?"

Ikeyo raised a brow. "Our kidnapper left us a little gift." "I don't like that."

"Me either, which is why you're here."

Nausea turned my stomach. Ikeyo's comment was vague and alluded to something I feared I might not want to see. In my experience, gifts and parental kidnappings didn't often go together, and a stranger abduction was the most

dreaded type of case we faced. They were rare, but they happened.

"Have we pegged a time frame?"

"The call came in about twenty after four. As far as I can piece together, the infant must have been taken some time between three thirty and when the mother discovered him gone, which, based on the report from the neighbor, had to have been about four since that's when the screaming began."

"Do we have a father in the picture? Is custody in question?"

"The neighbor claims the dad lives here, but I don't know where he is, and like I said, the mother is out of her mind. It's like bleeding a rock to get her to talk."

"Stone."

"Excuse me?"

"The idiom. Blood from a stone. Never mind. Not important. What have you done?"

"I've got a female constable with Clara now, seeing what she can do to calm her down so we can get some information. She wasn't responding well to a male influence. I've had two constables search the premises, but of course, they found nothing. Not like a baby that young could sneak off and hide."

"Where's the neighbor who called it in?"

"She's inside. We've questioned her, but she's itching to get back to her house. She has her five-year-old daughter

with her and a houseful of guests she's abandoned. Huge birthday party going on." Ikeyo gestured at the house down the block. "She isn't close with the family, so she doesn't know where the dad might be, but she thinks he's away for work a fair bit."

I scanned the front of the house and rubbed the scruff on my chin. There hadn't been time to shave before I flew out the door. The thick stubble went against my personal policy even though the department allowed facial hair so long as it was kept trimmed.

"I noticed we have this block and the next shut down. How far does the barricade go?"

"I issued roadblocks in a one-mile radius as soon as we were on scene. APB has gone out with a full description of the baby and photos. I don't even know what the dad drives, so I couldn't give any more than that." Ikeyo checked his watch. "That was two hours ago. Every car leaving this zone is getting checked."

"And the harbor?"

Ikeyo went silent. His face fell. Catching his onyx eyes, I read the truth of his oversight. "Shit. I didn't think of it."

"I want all water traffic stopped. No one leaves that harbor. Inform the Marine Response Unit what's happened and have them shore up the water traffic within a thirty-mile radius. Get units to all the docking ports along the coast in both directions too."

"Yes, sir."

I looked Ikeyo in the eye and lowered my voice. "You called me in, so you tell me what your gut is saying because if we have a high-risk or a nonfamily abduction, I need to act now."

Ikeyo shook his head and ran his handkerchief over his bald head again. "I'll be honest with you, Detective. I don't know. Logic says there's some family drama we don't know about yet, and the father has the kid somewhere, but…"

"Our little gift has you second-guessing?" "Yes, sir. Doesn't seem to fit."

I nodded, hating the knotting uncertainty growing in my stomach. Peering down the road, I tipped my chin toward the house with the balloons. "Send a couple of your constables to see if anyone saw or heard anything. I want verified names, phone numbers, and addresses of everyone present before they take off."

Ikeyo snapped a finger at his group of constables. "Nelly, Wickerman, you heard the man."

"The rest of them can start canvassing the neighborhood. See who's home, who's not, what they know, what they saw. Ask if anyone has home security cameras that face the street. If anything vital comes up, report to me."

"Are you alone on this?"

"For now, so I could do with all the help you can give me." "Done." Ikeyo waved a hand at the front door. "Shall we?" "Let's cross our fingers and hope a senile grandparent

popped over unannounced and took the kid home without

telling Mom."

"You've had that happen?"

"No, but with a five-month-old baby, that'd be our best- case scenario. Anything's possible."

The interior of the house showed class and wealth. The entrance opened onto a small, brightly lit foyer with a hallway leading deeper into the house. A room on the right displayed tall ceilings and expensive furniture. It was crisp and affluent. Nothing indicated the couple had an infant. Everything was pristine. Spotless. Dust-free and in perfect order. White walls and white leather furniture, custom-built cabinetry with glass doors, glass-topped tables, and a shiny white grand piano in the corner. The carpet underfoot was cream and plush. The sheer drapes on the windows were pulled aside and showed a decent view of the street in both directions.

It smelled like money and privilege.

On my left, a carpeted staircase wound up to the second level where a mezzanine overlooked the sitting room below. Paintings hung on the walls, and potted plants provided the only splash of color to an otherwise monochrome palette.

"The mother's out back with one of my female officers. Constable Marissa Melbourne has experience in the social services area and has worked as a family liaison in the past. We can use her as such if required. She's good. The neighbor is in the kitchen."

"No other children?"

"No."

"It's… sterile in here." "Isn't it? This way."

Ikeyo guided me through the house. I poked my nose down a long hallway that led to a laundry room and what looked like the exit to the garage, then I scanned a small bathroom and an office as we passed them on our way to the back of the house.

It wasn't until we entered the kitchen that I saw the first sign an infant existed in the showroom of a house. A white padded highchair was pushed snug to a marble-topped table. The rest of the seating was high-backed leather chairs. A cream-colored area rug sat square underneath, giving comfort and warmth from the natural stone tiling that ran wall to wall, encompassing the entire kitchen and attached dining area. More black, white, and gray. Limited color.

Like the other parts of the house, the kitchen was refined and orderly. Shiny, stainless-steel appliances and glimmering granite countertops reflected the afternoon sun that shone through the patio doors and large windows. White painted cabinets lined the walls with glass and wood- framed doors showing white china dishes and crystal glasses on shelves, the type people displayed but rarely used.

Outside, a huge tri-level deck featured a barbecue, cushioned wicker deck furniture, and a built-in pool on the

second level with a matching hot tub. A manicured lawn and garden stretched to the far end of the property beyond.

A slim woman in her early thirties with blonde wavy hair and nervous blue eyes leaned against the counter near the back exit in the kitchen. A child clung to her waist, her cheek pressed against her mother's stomach, her expression mirroring the older woman's. The young girl shared the same shade of hair that hung in matching braids over her shoulders. A conical birthday hat sat crooked on her head, the elastic digging a groove in the pale skin under her chin. The child's lips were rosy and pouting, and she had freckles across her nose. Both women were dressed in matching summer dresses and flip flops, their tans golden.

"Detective, this is Nina Murphy from down the road. She's who made the 911 call."

"Can we leave now, Detective? It's Lucy's birthday. All her friends are at the house."

"Big birthday celebration today?" I asked the little girl, finding a smile among the tension.

She nodded, blue gaze flicking up to check in with her mother.

"How old are you, Lucy?" I asked when she returned her attention to me.

The girl held up five fingers.

"Wow, a whole hand. That's a big number to celebrate."

That earned me a gap-tooth smile before she buried her face in her mother's stomach.

"I'll let you take your daughter home, Mrs. Murphy. There are officers at your residence right now talking with your guests to see if they have any more information that might help us. I'll need you to provide them with a statement."

"I already told that woman out there all I know. Clara's husband is probably away on a business trip. He's gone a lot on weekends."

"What's your relationship with the Paquets?"

Nina shrugged and squeezed her daughter tighter. "We're acquainted. I wouldn't call us friends. We've chatted on occasion, but I don't know them. Not really."

I studied Nina. "I understand. Even though you've spoken to Constable Melbourne, we need a formal written statement for our records. Leave your contact information with one of the officers in case I have questions that got missed. Constable Ikeyo, can you have one of your officers escort Mrs. Murphy and her daughter home?"

"Can do. This way, ma'am." Ikeyo gestured to the hallway through which we'd come.

I let them go and headed for the patio doors and backyard where I was to

ld I'd find Clara Paquet and a gift from our unknown perpetrator.