Page 106 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“Don’t know.”

“I hope to God we don’t find his body in a trash can somewhere.”

“You and me both,” Paterno agreed as she rounded a final corner and he saw the flashing lights of two patrol cars and an ambulance. A crowd had gathered, and one news van sat on the horizon. He caught a glimpse of Jack and Cissy Holt standing together on the front porch, each looking desperate.

“Crime unit’s behind us,” Quinn said.

“I’m gonna look around, then get the Holts out of here. Take their statements if Perez and O’Riley haven’t. They don’t need to hang out here.”

“I’ll stick around. Talk to Jefferson.”

She parked the Jetta near the entrance to the lot of the apartment complex as Paterno unfolded himself from the seat. Before he’d even stepped on the curb, Cissy Holt was running toward him, across the parking lot. Tears streaked her cheeks, determination set her chin, and in an instant Paterno saw glimpses of her mother on her face. “Thank God you’re here,” she said before she reached him. “We can’t just stand around here. We have to start looking for B.J.! He’s missing! You know that, right? She took him!”

“She?”

“My mother.”

“You think Marla’s behind this too?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it’s what you think, isn’t it? So, if you’re right, then she killed Tanya, and she has my baby, so let’s move, Detective. Let’s find that murdering psycho! We can’t let her hurt B.J. We can’t!”

The glare of headlights was blinding. The kid was crying in the backseat. He was probably wet or needed to eat or something. “You’re going to be fine,” Elyse said, squinting against the drizzle and fighting the pain ricocheting through her head. At least the damn downpour had let up.

She had to be careful. The police would be everywhere, and there were security cameras in places she’d never think of—on streets, in parking lots, in stores. She’d been prepared, of course. She had a stash of disposable diapers, baby food, a car seat, bottles and formula, even clothes that she’d bought over the past week. But she hadn’t prepared herself for his crying.

God, would he never stop?

“Just a little farther,” she said as she reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. The childproof top gave her fits as she tried to drive and open it, but finally she managed to get the damned thing off and tossed several pills into her mouth. She swallowed them dry, then, on inspiration, pulled into a fast-food drive-through and quickly donned her dark glasses. The blond wig was already in place when she ordered some fries for the baby and a large diet soda for herself. Once they were through the series of windows, after she’d paid and collected the bag and cup, she twisted in the seat and handed the small container of fries to the boy, who quit crying long enough to be intrigued. He grabbed the bag, and though she knew that he’d spill more than half of the damned things, maybe it would keep him occupied for a while.

She jabbed her straw into the drink, then took a long swallow and felt better. Nosing into traffic, she headed still farther south, toward San Mateo. She’d take that bridge, hoping that if anyone had seen the car, they would remember it traveling in the opposite direction from her destination. She checked her mirror often as the night encroached but saw no one following her. It was a worry. She’d heard the newscasts, seen the picture of her car and herself in her Marla getup that had been taken by the damned medical school parking-lot cameras. She kicked herself for getting a ticket there; it had drawn the police closer. If she hadn’t switched plates a few times, she would have been caught. As it was, she should probably get a new vehicle as well. But she wouldn’t need one much longer.

She checked the rearview again, and the kid, finally, had calmed down enough to munch his fries, his eyes curiously studying the back of her head. Kidnapping Cissy’s kid hadn’t been part of the original plan, of course, but Elyse had seen a growing opportunity and taken it. Let Cissy twist in the wind a little, let her agonize over the whereabouts and safety of her darling boy.

Stealing the baby had been a bold act, but Elyse was happy with her decision. It complicated things, but the satisfaction of knowing that Cissy was worried sick, was sleepless and guilt-riddled, was worth it.

She drove through the middle of San Mateo and found the ramp for the bridge. She kept checking her mirrors, but it still appeared that no one was following her. All the commuters drove as if they were robots, some on cell phones, most listening to their favorite radio station, all anxious to get home.

She could have been invisible for all the notice they gave her.

Elyse was in no hurry. She drove carefully, turning north at the east end of the bridge.

She’d put another five miles behind her, heading toward Oakland, when she heard the first shriek of a siren.

Her heart jolted.

No! She couldn’t have been found out.

She looked in her rearview mirror. Lights flashed as a police car roared up the freeway. Cars behind her were pulling over to the side of the road, and she prayed one of them had been speeding and was the cop’s target. She thought of her switched license plates. Had they found out? She had a gun. In her purse. She could use it if she had to.

He was bearing down on her, his siren screaming, blue and white lights flashing wildly. She had no choice but to ease to the side of the road like everyone around her and pray that he would pass. Every nerve tight, she slowed into the far right lane.

The cop followed.

Oh shit!

What could she do? Blow him away? Risk someone seeing her kill a policeman? Every damned motorist had a cell phone with a camera. She slowed even further, onto the shoulder.

The cop blew past her, his siren deafening.

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