Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 06 Page 11

  “It’s trivial compared to what that poor mother must be going through.”

  “Your operation wasn’t trivial, darlin’. But if we’re comparing hells, I’d rather be in our shoes than in Lourdes Rodriguez’s.” Decker saw his Rina’s face do a slow crumple. He drew her into his shoulder, caressing her arm as she cried. “Get it out, honey. Get it all out.”

  “I feel so terrible!”

  “Scared?”

  “Terrified!”

  “So am I.”

  Rina raised her head. “You are?”

  “It hit close to home.” Decker straightened up. “You and Hannah are checking out of this place. Your mom’s moving in with us until everyone’s back on their feet. She’s overjoyed that I asked for her help. I never thought I’d be saying this, but thank God for mothers-in-law.”

  Rina managed a smile. “Cindy really appreciated being part of the experience, too. She’s been a real godsend. If it wasn’t for her—”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Decker interrupted. “It’s too damn frightening.”

  No one spoke for a moment. The silence became eerie rather than comforting. Decker cleared his throat. “So…we have your mom and Cindy watching over you…and watching over the baby nurse, too. It’s terrible to be suspicious, but after what happened—”

  “Definitely. Look, Peter, Georgina said Nora was the best. But we both know what that means. If you don’t want to use a baby nurse, I can manage—”

  “No friggin’ way!” He wagged his finger at his wife. “I don’t want you out of bed, let alone working, even if you think you can do it. Your mom and Cindy’ll be there full time, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. I don’t want you doing anything until the doctor says you’re one hundred percent healed, understand?”

  “Why not? I’m useless for anything else—” She stopped herself and sighed. “There I go again, feeling sorry for myself.”

  “Darlin’, life isn’t school. You don’t have to get straight A’s. Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself—physically and emotionally. Do something nice for yourself, Rina. Read that book you’ve been putting off. Drink a cup of hot chocolate, smothered in whipped cream. Hey, I’ve got a great idea. Why don’t we finally use the satin sheets we got for our wedding?”

  “I’m saving them.”

  “For what?”

  Rina thought about that. What was she saving them for? “You’re right, Peter. I’ll have my mom put them on the bed.”

  Decker couldn’t believe his ears. She was actually agreeing with him. “Thank you, Rina.” He checked his watch. “Do you know where Cindy is?”

  “Jack took her away about a half hour ago.” Rina knitted her fingers together. “Peter, who’s watching Hannah?”

  “All the nurseries are under special watch. Don’t be concerned with Hannah’s safety. I guarantee you she’s fine.”

  “I didn’t have a fever last time the nurse took my temperature.” Rina’s eyes became wet. “Do you think I could hold her now?”

  Decker remembered how uplifting it had been to hold his baby—pure love for something so beautifully innocent. Rina needed that feeling.

  “I’ll ask the doctor, darlin’.” Decker stood. “I’m sure it would do wonders for your spirit.”

  “It’s the only thing I want right now.”

  “You bet. I’ll find Dr. Hendricks.”

  Rina dried her eyes. “Peter, the missing baby…is it your case?”

  “I took it on.”

  “I’m glad you did. It was the right choice.”

  Decker thought about that. The right choice.

  It had been his only choice.

  The interview was set up in an empty labor room. A metal-framed bed with stirrups on the end, I.V. stands posing like stainless stick figures, computer monitors, a nightstand with gizmos for positioning the bed, and a nurse’s call button. So cold and impersonal, Marge thought. She wondered if there wasn’t something in between birthing via high tech and squatting in the fields.

  She pulled up a plastic red chair and motioned Cindy and her grandfather onto the bed. It wasn’t going to be easy interviewing Pete’s daughter, but compared to the Rodriguez boys, the teenager would be a cakewalk. The brothers were a modern-day James Gang, but in the last analysis, Marge felt they had nothing to do with the kidnapping.

  Cindy was upset, poor kid. And she probably felt a little guilty, too. Jack Cohen sat close to her, drawing her near, his arm around her shoulder.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, honey?” he said to Cindy.

  “I’m all right.”

  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” Marge asked.

  “No, I’m okay,” Cindy answered.

  “I want you to relax,” Marge said. “The more you relax, the more you can remember.”

  “I wish I could remember more! I wish I’d been paying closer attention!”

  “Baby, no one could possibly have predicted something like this,” Cohen said. “Just relax and answer the questions to the best of your ability. That’s the best way you can help.”

  Cindy felt her throat clog. “Thanks for coming down, Grandpa.”

  “What are you thanking me for? I had to come down. Grandma would have killed me if I didn’t.” To Marge, he said, “Detective?”

  “Okay,” Marge said. “Cindy, do you remember when you arrived at Nursery J?”

  “Around three…maybe four in the afternoon.”

  “Who was there when you arrived?”

  “Marie…Marie Bellson.”

  “Anyone else?”

  Cindy thought for a moment. “There could have been…I don’t remember.”

  “But you remember Marie being in Nursery J?”

  “When I arrived, yes.”

  “Who else do you remember seeing in Nursery J?”

  Cindy sighed. “Who didn’t I see? Marge, there were people coming in and out of the nursery all the time. Some of them were suited up—the fathers, grandparents. They could go near the babies. Others stayed in the peripheries—the supply room or the nurses’ office only. People like the janitors or orderlies. They’d restock stuff or sweep the floor or change the garbage and then just leave. There really wasn’t a lot of control of who was in and out.”

  Marge rested her pencil against her pad. “You recall seeing janitors and orderlies in the nursery?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Do you recall seeing anyone who wasn’t suited up near the babies?”

  Cindy thought a moment. “I don’t recall, but I wasn’t with the babies most of the time. I was in the back room with Hannah. I couldn’t really see what was going on. And with all the noise the babies were making, I couldn’t hear too well, either.”

  “Who else besides janitors and orderlies do you remember wandering in and out?”

  “Nurses, mostly…of course, there were doctors, too. And lots of supply people—salespeople, if you can believe that. They’d bring in all sorts of things—boxes of formula and sugar water, free samples of baby medicine, and lots of diapers. And then there were people from Laundry bringing in blankets for the layettes.”

  Marge frowned, surprised at how busy a single nursery could be.

  Cindy said, “I saw them come and go. But like I said, mostly I was with Hannah. I used to take her layette away from the rest of the babies into this back room. Darlene set me up there, and Marie just kind of let me be through inertia. I liked it in the back because I wasn’t in anyone’s way.” She paused. “I wasn’t in Marie’s way, specifically. She didn’t like me—even after I brought her chocolate-chip cookies.”

  “You brought her cookies?”

  “I thought it would help me get on her good side. Maybe it did. She let me stay.”

  “But you couldn’t see or hear other people in front.”

  “I could hear snatches, catch glimpses of people. That’s all. I should have been keeping an eye on Marie. I knew she was weird.”

  “Cindy,” Jack said,
“it was not your place or duty to keep an eye on the staff. You were there, but not in any work capacity whatsoever. You were there only as a favor to your father. So stop yelling at yourself.”

  Cindy sighed. “I just wish—”

  “Uh-uh. I don’t want to hear that,” Cohen said.

  “All I mean, Grandpa, is I feel so sorry for the baby. And for the mother. I got to know all the babies. I look at Hannah, I see them all.” The teenager’s eyes watered. “This is just so bad.”

  Jack kissed his granddaughter and looked at Marge. “She’s just too good for this world.”

  “Oh, Grandpa!” Cindy returned her attention to Marge. “I remember Marie and Darlene being in the nursery, of course. Mostly, that’s who I remember. And Christine Simms wafting in and out…oh—and Lily—that’s Darlene’s trainee. I met her a couple of days ago. I don’t remember seeing her last night, but who knows? All sorts of people were in and out. Babies going into their mothers’ rooms, returning from their mothers’ rooms.”

  “Lots of traffic, huh?” Marge said.

  “You wouldn’t believe it. There was no way to keep track of everyone without sign-up sheets.”

  Marge said, “Do you remember anyone who looked like they didn’t belong there?”

  “Not really. I don’t remember seeing anyone not in a uniform or surgical scrubs. Everyone looked like they were doing a job. But I wasn’t paying any attention, Marge.”

  “She knows that, honey,” Cohen intervened.

  “You’re doing great, Cindy,” Marge said. “Let’s talk about Marie for a moment. You stated she didn’t like you?”

  “She didn’t. I stayed out of her way.”

  “But occasionally you saw her.”

  “Yes, a couple of times.”

  “Did she appear professional when she worked?”

  “Yeah, I suppose.” Cindy looked troubled. “Sometimes I’d overhear her talking to other nurses about the mothers. Marie had preferences in her mothers. It bothered me.”

  Marge said, “Did you ever hear her say anything specific about Lourdes Rodriguez?”

  Cindy’s eyes widened. “Marge, she did talk about Lourdes Rodriguez. She told me she was counseling her.”

  Marge sat up. “What kind of counseling?”

  “Baby counseling. How to bathe the baby, how to diaper the baby…basic stuff. Marie adopted this superior attitude when she lectured. That bothered me, too.”

  “Superior attitude?” Marge asked.

  “Yeah, like ‘They’d be lost without me.’ That kind of thing. Darlene told me Marie liked doing that kind of stuff—teaching mothers how to care for their babies. If the mother didn’t need her, she didn’t like that.”

  “Marie told you that she didn’t like the independent mothers?” Marge said.

  “No, that was just my impression after listening to Darlene.”

  Jack said, “Honey, just stick to what you heard from Marie. The rest is what we call hearsay.”

  Marge smiled. Once a lawyer…“So Marie told you she was counseling this baby’s mother?”

  “Yes—maybe she didn’t use the word counsel. More like teaching the mother.”

  “Okay,” Marge said. “She seemed to take a special interest in Lourdes Rodriguez. How about this, Cindy? Did you ever see Marie take a special interest in Lourdes’s baby?”

  Cindy shook her head. “Not that I can remember. She talked more about Lourdes than about the baby. Marie didn’t think Lourdes was equipped to handle the baby.”

  “She said that?” Marge asked.

  “No, no, no, she didn’t say it,” Cindy said. “It was just my opinion.”

  Jack said, “Honey, just stick to what you heard.”

  “Grandpa, maybe Marge would like to hear my opinions.”

  Gently, Marge said, “Sure, but maybe a little later.”

  Cindy nodded. Marge thought she looked wounded. “Did Marie ever mention anything about how Lourdes Rodriguez wasn’t fit to be a mother?”

  “Truthfully, no. Marie never said that Lourdes wasn’t fit. Just that she didn’t know much. And that she should appreciate the baby Jesus gave her.”

  Marge’s ears perked up. “Marie spoke about Jesus a lot?”

  “Yeah, she liked to pray with her patients. I told Daddy this. We both agreed it was inappropriate.”

  “Did Marie ever mention she was doing God’s work, Cindy?”

  The teenager paused. “No…no she didn’t.”

  “But she prayed with Lourdes?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did Marie ever say anything about how the baby should be taken away from Lourdes because she didn’t appreciate what Jesus gave her?”

  “No.”

  “And you never remember seeing Marie being especially attached to Baby Girl Rodriguez?”

  “No.”

  “Did Marie seem unusually attached to any baby in particular?”

  “Not that I can remember.”

  “Did Marie ever mention going away very soon?”

  “Marge, Marie hardly talked to me unless it was to say I was getting too attached to Hannah. When Marie was around, I minded my own business. I didn’t pay much attention to anyone except Hannah.”

  “Your dad better be appreciative,” Jack said.

  “Grandpa, he’s very appreciative.” Cindy looked at Marge. “I wasn’t much help to your case, was I?”

  “Of course you’ve been a help, Cindy. The fact that Marie was talking about the baby’s mother…hey, that’s something we didn’t know about. It shows that Marie had prior interest in this particular patient.”

  “But you’re not any closer to finding the baby.”

  “Things take time, Cindy.”

  The room was silent. Cindy stood and placed her hands in her pants pockets. “I’m kind of tired. Is there anything else you need me for?”

  “No, Cindy, you did great.” Marge folded her notebook. “Thanks for your help. Now kick back and go home. Rina and Hannah will be needing you to take care of them.”

  Cindy sighed. “You know what I’m thinking? Who’s taking care of Baby Girl Rodriguez? And who’s going to take care of that poor mother?”

  Marge looked at her partner’s daughter and saw something familiar in her eyes—the fire of determination. Decker’s expression to a T. That kind of passion to solve a crime was great for a career detective, but deadly for a nineteen-year-old kid.

  “Cindy, you are going to go home and forget about this, right?”

  “I can’t forget about something like this, Marge.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  “Okay,” Marge said. “I’ll be blunt. I don’t want you going out and looking for the baby on your own.”

  Once again Cindy’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”

  Her expression seemed genuine. It was then and there that Marge realized she had planted a seed inside Cindy’s brain. She stuffed her notebook in her jacket pocket and silently cursed her big mouth.

  Decker said, “How’d it go?”

  “Your elder daughter’s a doll,” Marge answered. “But I’m worried she’s going to get carried away. You can’t very well say to her, don’t get involved. She is involved. It’s how to turn her off.”

  “I’ll talk to her.”

  “Let me handle her, Pete. You and I could say the same thing. Coming from me, it’ll be different.”

  “You’re right about that,” Decker said. “How’d it go with the Rodriguez brothers?”

  “They were angry—angry at me, the hospital, authority in general. Real anger. Bottom line is, I don’t think they were involved. Back to the obvious—Marie Bellson.”

  “Search warrant on Bellson’s place finally came through,” Decker said. “Do you want to come?”

  “I’ll meet you there in about an hour,” Marge said. “I want to stick around here for a while. See what I can pick up.” She lifted up Marie’s personne
l file. “Have you had a chance to go through this?”

  “Just had time to skim it. I’m having a copy made for my files.” Decker ran his hands through his hair. “From what I’ve seen, there’s nothing much to write home about. Woman worked here for eleven years, had several complaints registered against her. A few noncompliances filed against her by two different doctors; once a patient mentioned she was rude to her. Another patient thought she was cold and uncaring.”

  “Any complaint dealing with Marie stuffing God down the throat?”

  “Cindy told you about Marie praying with the patients.”

  “That’s weird, Pete.”

  “Yes, it is. I wish to hell I had followed up on it. Maybe she heard Jesus tell her to grab a baby.” He slammed his right fist into the waiting left palm. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have brushed it aside.”

  Marge looked at her partner. He was so genuine in his self-flagellation. “Pete, religious people—even fanatics—don’t generally go around snatching babies.”

  Decker knew a lot of religious fanatics—his mother, his wife. And what Marge said was true. Believing wholeheartedly in God—any God—had nothing to do with snatching babies. But lots of troubled people used God to excuse their impulsive or inappropriate behavior.

  “If Marie had complaints about her excess religiosity,” Decker continued, “they were probably handled off the record. What exactly did you learn from Cindy?”

  Marge filled him in, then asked, “What do you think about Marie counseling Lourdes?”

  “Lourdes didn’t mention that to you?”

  “No. And she didn’t mention Marie praying with her. But that doesn’t mean anything. She was hysterical when I spoke to her. I’ll press her on it, find out exactly what Marie told her.”

  There was a pause.

  “What are you thinking?” Decker asked.

  Marge said, “If Marie felt Lourdes wasn’t able to handle her child, maybe she snatched the baby out of concern for the kid’s safety.”

  “Did you get the feeling that Lourdes was unusually irresponsible…or maybe she had an addiction problem or something like that?”

  “No, but our conversation was superficial.”