Gail Bowen - The Nesting Dolls

“And they’re planning to keep him?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll tell Nadine.” Her breath caught. “This is going to break her heart, Jo.”

“It will be worse if she comes here. Believe me. Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow morning? We’ll know more then, but for the time being, please just keep Nadine away.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Zack had been watching me intently. When I hung up, he frowned. “To quote one of your favourites, ‘What fresh hell is this?’ ”

“It seems Abby had a partner. Her name is Nadine Perrault, and she was planning to fly here tomorrow to get Jacob.”

“But she’s not coming now?”

“You heard my end of the conversation,” I said. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Shit,” Zack said. “More complications.”

“You think Nadine Perrault has a legitimate claim on Jacob?”

“Hard to say – depends on the nature and duration of her relationship with Abby Michaels. Anyway, there’s nothing we can do tonight.”

“In that case,” I said, “let’s say good night to Taylor and hit the sack. I’ll read you Gawain until you fall asleep.”

Zack raised an eyebrow. “Gawain demands a man’s deep and sonorous voice.”

“You’ll be amazed at how sonorous I can be with a couple of ounces of Old Pulteney under my belt.”

The next morning, long before the first blue light of day began to seep through our bedroom windows, Zack’s cell rang. It was Delia. I rolled over and listened as Zack presented his argument about how Delia could best handle the situation facing her. Zack’s voice was low but urgent, and as he and Delia continued talking I could feel his concern. When the call was finally over, Zack turned to face me.

“So what’s next?” I said.

“I don’t know. Delia’s in terrible shape, Joanne. I didn’t know until she told me this morning that she spent half an hour alone in Abby’s car with her body.”

“My God. How did that happen?”

Zack pushed himself up to a seated position. “The men who found Abby’s body were casual workers from the Wayfarers’ Mission. They reasoned, correctly, that they were being paid to shovel snow, not deal with cops. To their credit, these guys tried to do the right thing. Having opened the car door and discovered a scene that, to say the least, must have been traumatic, they went through Abby’s wallet, found Delia’s address and phone number, and used Abby’s cell to call her.”

“What a nightmare. Poor Delia.”

Zack’s shifted his weight, an automatic gesture to protect his skin against pressure sores. “It gets worse,” he said. “Dee assumed the cops had been called, so she showed up at the parking lot alone.”

“Where was Noah?”

“At home with the kids,” Zack said, “confident that the police had everything under control.”

“But nobody had called them.” I moved closer to Zack. “Just the thought of Delia, down there alone with her daughter’s body.”

“As you probably heard, I told Dee to take some time off. We’re having a partners’ meeting this morning. I suggested that her admin assistant could bring in her priority files, and we could divvy them up.”

“But Delia didn’t agree to that?”

“Nope. She says the only thing that’s going to get her through this is work. And to be honest, I understand that. I’m the same way. But she has agreed to let me act as her liaison with Debbie Haczkewicz, and that was a big concession. It was also a smart move. As next-of-kin, Dee has the right to be kept informed about developments in the case, and she figured she could handle it, but she’s never practised criminal law. She didn’t realize what she was letting herself in for.”

“And you do.”

“Yes, and I wouldn’t wish the kind of reports that are going to be coming out of the medical examiner’s office on my worst enemy. Right now the pathologist and his team will be waiting for Abby’s body to thaw so they can start their examination. A uniformed cop will have put paper bags on Abby’s hands to preserve any traces of DNA from her attacker that may be under her nails. And this is only the beginning. The M.E. always says that the answers don’t leap out of the body; his team has to dig for them. As soon as Abby’s body thaws, they’ll be fingerprinting her, swabbing her genitals, taking blood, getting samples of her pubic hair, cutting her nails – well, you get the drift.”

“I do,” I said. “God, Zack, this is terrible. If it were one of our kids… ” I closed my eyes against the image. “It’s going to be hard enough for Delia. This story will be an early Christmas present for the media. A beautiful young woman comes to a strange city, gives away her baby, and is raped and murdered. That picture you took of Abby at the carol service will be everywhere.”

Zack nodded. “And I have a feeling that picture will be with us for a long time. According to Dee, the police don’t have any leads. People were dealing with the blizzard and the blackout. And of course, the snow obliterated everything around the crime scene.”

“What about the men who found the body?”

“The police will check them out, but Dee says that after the men called her they apparently went straight back to the Wayfarers’ Mission and told the pastor everything that had happened. At that point the pastor called the police. As you know too well, I’m a betting man, but I’m an informed bettor. Abby Michaels had close to $500 in her wallet and the Wayfarer shovellers didn’t touch it. I’m betting they’re clean.”

Zack and I exchanged a glance. “I wish this problem had landed on someone else’s plate,” I said.

“Me too,” Zack said. “But it’s on our plate, Jo. So we’ll have to deal with it.”

I leaned over and kissed him. “Alwyn said she’d phone me this morning and tell me what she knew about Nadine Perrault’s plans. She won’t call this early, so I might as well take the dogs for their run.”

“This is not an ideal way to start the day,” Zack said.

“The day is young,” I said. “Keep that Kiz Harp CD at the ready.”

When I got back from my run, I put our tickets for The Nutcracker by Zack’s plate – a not so subtle reminder that we were taking Madeleine and Lena out for dinner and the ballet and that he should be home from work early.

Surprisingly, Taylor beat him to the breakfast table. She was dressed for school. I looked at my watch. “Six o’clock,” I said. “Did I forget about a practice or something?”

She cut a grapefruit and put half in my bowl and half in hers. “No, I thought I’d work in the studio for a while before I caught the bus.” She picked up one of the tickets and read the information on its face. After several years of waning interest, she’d decided to give The Nutcracker a pass. She and Mieka were going to a restaurant where the rock was loud and the burgers were loaded and then to a chick flick. As Taylor placed the ticket back on the table, her face was wistful.

“Second thoughts?” I said.

Her brow furrowed. “Not really. Going to The Nutcracker together was just one of our ten million traditions.”

I laughed. “Do you remember your first Nutcracker?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was so excited I threw up as soon as they raised the curtain.”

“We had good seats too. Right near the orchestra. The ushers came and cleaned up, but you refused to go home.”

“The people around us must have hated us.”

“The musicians weren’t too wild about us, either, but it was worth it. Watching you that night was one of the great thrills of my life.”

Taylor chewed her lip. “Do you ever wish we could go back to the way it was?”