Baby Bunco Page 6

  Hands to hip, Ethel took two steps in his direction. “Excuse me. Do I look to you like the cat burglar type who would scale walls? I’m seventy-two years old.”

  His body lowered an inch into his boots. “No ma’am. Sorry. This way.”

  He began to lead her past the desks and then stopped. Ethel’s tennis shoes dug into the floor to keep from bumping into him. “Hold it.” He stomped back to Janie, gave her an evil eye, and tugged her by the arm to a standing position. “Not that I don’t trust you, but you’re coming as well.”

  Janie sighed and allowed herself to be dragged along. Oh well, never pass up a restroom when you have a chance.

  ~*~

  Ten minutes later, the door shuddered at the pound of a knock. The guard opened it, and Blake barged in, his nostrils steaming. His hair appeared a bit disheveled and his wrinkled clothes obviously the ones he’d worn early in the day. “Janie. Explain yourself.”

  He perched on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, and glared into her face.

  “I just wanted a peek at the young woman they found slain behind the Get’em and Go to see if there was any resemblance to the baby.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, Tony, the clerk, says she had a Hindu Bindi dot on her forehead and the tot appeared to be Hindi as well, so...”

  Blake scraped his hand down his eleven o’clock shadowed face. He turned to the security man. “Is the hospital pressing charges?”

  “Can’t say for sure. Can’t reach anyone at this hour. But we can release her into your custody.”

  Blake pumped his hand. “Give me the paperwork. I’ll sign off.” He scratched his name on the first sheet as he propped the clipboard against his stomach, one eye cocked at Janie and jaw set.

  She pressed her lips.

  “You two are coming to headquarters, and I want a full explanation of this cockamamie scheme.” He shook his head and mumbled as he flipped the pages he’d yet to sign. “Why can’t you all knit and play Canasta like everyone else your age.”

  Ethel straightened her spine like an arrow. “We do play Bunco, as you very well know.”

  The hospital security officer sputtered another laugh.

  Blake growled. “Come on. We’re heading downtown.”

  “Who’ll fetch my car?”

  “Where is it?”

  Janie pointed to an imaginary window in the general vicinity she figured her vehicle sat. “Across the back alley in the employee parking. By the fence.”

  “Locked?”

  “Of course.” She raised her nose.

  “Give me the key, and I’ll drive it. You two will ride in the squad car with Detective Hemphill.”

  He walked them down the hallway while speaking into his Bluetooth. “Tell the police cruiser to come around to the back entrance.”

  Ethel nudged Janie. “I’ve never been arrested before. This is kinda cool.”

  On the way to the police station, she kept peering out of the backseat window of the squad car like a dog heading for a romp in the park.

  ~*~

  At the station, Janie and Ethel took turns explaining the reasoning behind their actions as they sipped hours-ago-brewed coffee. Blake sat behind his desk, hands interlaced, knuckles white. Detective Connor Hemphill stood off to the side and scribbled notes into his black pad. A tape recorder whirred off to the left.

  Ethel tried hard not to smirk.

  “This is no laughing matter, Mrs. MacDaniels.” Blake peered at her.

  She wiggled in her seat. “True. We did a serious thing. It’s just so exciting and all. Wait until I tell Mildred.”

  Blake and Hemphill exchanged exasperated expressions. The chief detective addressed Janie. “So you were there to not only take a peek at her but to collect DNA samples?”

  Janie nodded silently then cleared her throat and squeaked out a “yes” for the benefit of the recording.

  “Unbelievable.” Blake slammed his hand on the wooden top and rose to his feet. Everything on it wobbled.

  Both women jerked.

  After a moment of silence, Janie’s son-in-law’s face returned to a more normal color.

  Janie swallowed a gulp of tepid caffeine for courage. “I’d hope to locate the autopsy report as well...”

  Blake leaned forward with locked elbows, his hands grasping the arms of her chair. His breath huffed inches from hers. “You can order that online now, you know. Public access laws. No need to pilfer files.”

  “Oh.” Janie’s cheeks heated as she fiddled with the handle of her purse.

  He straightened and perched on the edge of the desk, still facing her. “Exactly what were you looking for?”

  “To see if she had been pregnant. I did ask you about it. Remember?”

  Blake shot her a don’t-push-me glare as he tapped his knuckles on the wood. “I should arrest you both for trespassing, illegal entry, and attempt to burgle.”

  “Now wait a minute. We weren’t going to take anything. Only read.” She shifted her eyes to Ethel for confirmation.

  “You admitted you were going to steal her DNA.”

  “Oh, come on, Blake. How much would difference would a cheek swab or some hair follicles make?”

  He sighed, went around to his desk, and leaned back in his chair. The hinges creaked. He tented his fingers under his chin and gazed at one old lady, then the other. Finally, the vein on his forehead diminished and he puffed an elongated breath from his lips.

  “Hemphill. Escort them back to Sunset Acres and make sure they’re safe inside their condos.” He shuffled a few papers and signed his name. Without raising his gaze, he addressed the two offenders. “I’m releasing you on your oath you will not leave the vicinity until it is determined whether or not charges will be filed. Understood?”

  They nodded in unison. He peered at each and repeated in a booming tone. “Understood?”

  “We promise.”

  Ethel bobbed her head rapidly. “Yes, we both agree.”

  He pocketed his pen. “Wonderful. Now, scoot. It’s almost midnight.”

  Janie and Ethel rose simultaneously.

  “Oh, and Janie?”

  “Yes, Blake?”

  “I’ll bring you a copy of the autopsy report tomorrow morning. Only to read, mind you. Then maybe you can tell me why in the world you believe you should become involved in all of this.”

  “Well, you see, I...”

  He held up one hand. “Stop. There are not enough aspirin on this planet to get me to listen to you tonight.”

  She grimaced. “OK.”

  Ethel gazed at them both, wide-eyed.

  TWELVE

  At six thirty, Janie texted Betsy Ann stating she did not feel up to their early morning power walk. Not ill. Just tired. Explain later. She scooped some food into Mrs. Fluffy’s bowl and trotted back to her soft, warm covers.

  She dreamed she sat in the slammer with all sorts of shady characters, most with pungent body odor, unshaven faces, and a myriad of tattoos. A brawl ensued as two of the men, now bloodied and sweaty, wrestled and tumbled in her direction. An elbow cupped her chin. She crumpled to the floor onto her back as they landed on top of her, punching and grunting. More piled on them, leaving her squished and helpless on the bottom of the stack. She couldn’t breathe.

  In a gasp, she awakened to find Mrs. Fluffy lying flat on her chest, her rear end in Janie’s face, and her plumed tail covering Janie’s mouth and nose. She spat and waved her arms. “Off, cat. Yuck.”

  Then she heard a thump-thump-thump on her kitchen door. She unwound herself from her covers, stretched the kink from her lower back, and shuffled down the hall as she tugged her bathrobe around her torso. “Now who in their right mind would call on me at seven forty-two in the morning?”

  She peeked through the opaque curtains. Blake came into view with a cardboard tray holding two lattes in one hand as a sack of breakfast tacos dangled underneath.

  She sighed and jerked open the door. “Please come in. You just save
d me from being suffocated.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. Take a load off. I’ve got to pee.”

  ~*~

  Ten minutes later, she emerged, robe tied around her waist and her hair combed. “Is this the beginning of my penance?”

  He halted in the middle of taking a chomp out of his egg and bacon burrito. “It was getting cold. I prayed over it, and yours.”

  “This is becoming a habit. Your cholesterol, and mine, are going to be sky high.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and set it down. “Janie, you really got my last nerve last night.”

  She raised a finger. “And that is why you’re pounding on my door at this ungodly hour?”

  “I figured you’d be coming home from your daily jog with Betsy Ann. Didn’t feel up to it?”

  “Don’t be sarcastic. It isn’t becoming.”

  He thrust his chest toward her. “Neither is learning my mother-in-law is being detained for breaking and entering.”

  “We didn’t break anything. We only entered. Everyone in town knows they wedge the back door open. People slip in and out, visiting their loved ones after hours all the time.”

  “Don’t veer off subject.”

  Janie swallowed some of the welcomed coffee and then grimaced. Lukewarm at best. “How long ago did you buy this?” She grabbed her cup along with his and slid them into the microwave.

  “About an hour. Been driving around trying to calm my nerves enough not to yell at you.”

  “What did Mel say?”

  He flayed his arms around the room. “Do you see her here?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly. I didn’t have the heart to tell her. She grunted a mumbled greeting when I slid into bed after midnight and fell right back to sleep.”

  Janie gazed at the window, another image emerging from her memory. “I recall those days. Sometimes, Jack would traipse home at two in the morning. He’d tell me about his case, and we’d talk until dawn, nestled in each other’s arms.”

  The microwave ding jolted her back to the present.

  Blake stared at her with a blank expression she couldn’t read. In a quiet voice, he asked her again. “Why are you so insistent about taking on these cases?”

  She brought him his re-heated coffee and sat across from him. Hands cupping the warmth of the take-out mug she smiled. “Because they must be related, that’s why.”

  He huffed as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Snapping it open, he smoothed the crease and slid it in her direction. “Yes, it appears she had been pregnant. Nine months, according to the stretch of the uterus. Plus, she did deliver by C-section. An amateurish job, it stated.”

  “Aha.”

  “So, you may be onto something. I’d never had connected the baby to this slain teenager.”

  Janie swallowed a gulp of coffee. “Oh yes, you would. Given time. Too much coincidence not to do so.”

  “I never laid eyes on the baby so I didn’t know her to be Hindi. From the brief description, I assumed...”

  “Hispanic. Well, makes sense when almost forty percent of the population of Central Texas is of that ethnic group.” She pointed to the other breakfast burrito. “Is that bacon as well?”

  He grunted to the affirmative.

  She unwrapped the flour tortilla and picked out the pork strips.

  “I thought you liked bacon.”

  “Only if it’s crispy.” She placed the pieces between two take-out napkins and carried it to the microwave.

  Blake sighed and shoved the remainder of his breakfast in his mouth. He spoke as he swallowed the last chew. “You never saw the baby either.”

  She swiveled to face him as her bacon spun and sizzled. “Yes, but Mildred did, and she described the newborn to us. Like you, she assumed it to be Mexican or Honduran due to the tan skin and jet black hair. Besides, we visited the wee thing in the hospital. I got a great look then.”

  “You’re kidding me.” He crumpled up his sack. “No, I can tell you aren’t.”

  She returned to the kitchen table, grease-soaked paper napkin in hand. The room filled with the bacon’s aroma. She smacked her lips. “Much better.” She continued as she slipped the well-cooked strips into her burrito. “I determined the error in ethnicity when we went to visit the baby in the NICU. The facial features were definitely Hindi.”

  “‘We’ meaning who?”

  “Let’s see. Ethel, Betsy Ann, Babs. And me, of course. We pooled the Bunco gals and bought some newborn essentials. Took them to the hospital and spoke with the foster parents.”

  “Next you learned via Tony—that’s his name, as I recall?—the deceased young woman had a Bindi mark on her forehead.”

  “Correct. Same night. Same race. What else could it be but mother and child?”

  “I see. Well, the coroner’s report confirms she was of Hindi descent.”

  Janie nodded as she swallowed the last of her breakfast taco. She gazed into his face when she saw his expression change. “And?”

  He tapped his finger half way down the page of the document. “Here’s the weird thing, though. Both of her kidneys were missing.”

  THIRTEEN

  “So we should check the hospital transplant departments to find out if someone wanted to sell them a kidney?”

  “We?” Blake pressed his eyebrows together. Even so, Janie detected a slight smirk forming on his lips.

  “OK. You.” Janie crunched the foil wrapper and tossed it toward the trash. When it hit the rim and bounced in she made a “two points” motion with her fingers.

  Blake shook his head. “You do beat all. I can give you thirty minutes. Why don’t you tell me what you learned so far?”

  She sugared her smile. “Then you’ll reciprocate?”

  He waggled a finger at her nose. “I didn’t say that.”

  Janie slid her back into the spindles of her kitchen chair. “Blake, I can offer valuable assistance, just as I did before. Someone left an unattended newborn in my community for a reason. At least let me snoop around to determine if anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

  He swirled his coffee inside the take-out cup. Felix the Cat ticked away, and a growing angst crawled up Janie’s esophagus. Finally, he sighed, gave her a glance and gulped down the last drop. “OK. Canvas your fellow neighbors. See if someone on neighborhood watch detected a new car or heard a baby crying on that Monday night or early Tuesday morning. From what the hospital report says, the child hadn’t been there more than twelve hours.”

  “How in the world did they determine that?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not a pediatrician.”

  She told him about the conversation with the real estate agent and their visit to the NICU which led to meeting the foster parents. “Perhaps I can go again.”

  “To what end?”

  She switched mental gears. “Has the body of the young woman been cremated yet?”

  “No, it’s still pending a next of kin notification.”

  “What happens if no one claims the corpse?”

  “The county is responsible for its disposal.”

  “You mean dumped?”

  He chuckled. “No, they line the flowerbeds at the courthouse with their cremated ashes.”

  She crinkled her nose.

  “I’m kidding, Janie. Listen, every attempt possible will be made to identify this girl. The coroner’s office will check national and even international missing person’s databases. Dental records, DNA samples...” He stated the last with emphasis.

  “DNA?” She smacked her forehead. “So I didn’t have to sneak in after all?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. You only needed to ask for a copy.”

  Janie cast her gaze to the kitchen cabinets behind them and knitted her brows.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing.” She wiped the table, and tossed his and her cups in the garbage.

  “Right. Better go. Burning daylight,
you know.” He pointed a finger at her nose. “No more talk of bodies and dumpsters, OK?”

  “Hmm.” She drew the string on the trash bag and lifted the sack out of the container. “Speaking of dumpsters. Would you mind?”

  He snatched it from her and brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Why do you women always expect us to take out the trash?”

  She leaned her backside against the counter. “Why do you assume we are to clean toilets, do the laundry, and cook dinner?”

  Blake didn’t respond. He left, garbage bag in hand.

  ~*~

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Betsy Ann hissed as she and Janie made their way up the front walk. “Especially after Ethel backed out.”

  “She had a doctor’s appointment.”

  “Uh, huh. After you two’s shenanigans the other night, she probably had second thoughts.”

  “Well, the foster parents did say we could visit.” Janie grinned. “Amber practically gushed at the idea of us bringing more newborn diapers.”

  “Thank goodness the mega discount store had a buy-one-get-one special.” Betsy Ann re-positioned the heavy sack in the crux of her arm as Janie rang the doorbell.

  Amber opened the screen. “Great timing, ladies. Come in. She’s just up from her nap. Clean diaper and all.”

  The two elderly widows stepped into the small Craftsman-styled living room, complete with glassed-in, waist-high bookshelves flanking the hearth. The wood floors gleamed in the afternoon sun as the window air conditioner hummed. Modest, navy-toned department store furniture encircled an area rug in a modern design of primary colors. Throw pillows in matching hues dotted the couch. A tall fichus tree growing in a bright yellow pot soaked in the sun’s rays coming through the plantation shutter’s slats and an abstract painting of Kansas sunflowers hung over the fireplace. “What a lovely home.”

  Amber smiled as she lifted the baby from the cushioned infant seat into her arms. “Many folks want the open concept designs, but I like individual rooms.”

  “Yes.” Betsy Ann perched on the edge of the sofa and pulled her skirt further over her knees. “It’s always preferable to have one room you can keep clean for visitors.”

  “Exactly. Do either of you wish to hold her?”