David Putnam - The Replacements

“I don’t know why the man doesn’t have an infection. I think it’s because he’s not fully evolved and his relatives are direct descendants of Cro-Magnon man. He’s really bouncing back fast.”

I nodded toward our latest charge devouring a Sno Ball, bits of confection cake and pink coconut falling to the rumpled bed sheets. “Have you thought about what we’re going to do with him?”

She came over and sat next to me. “What do you think we’re going to do with him?”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say something like that.” I took another bite of Sno Ball and guzzled the chocolate milk before she changed her mind and returned us all back to the dreaded health food mode.

“Do you disagree?” she asked.

Like dropping everything in Costa Rica, coming back to the States to chase down Jonas and the kids Jonas took had left us no choice. The same applied to Eddie Crane. He was out of options, as well. I shook my head “no.”

She reached into a Walmart bag on the floor at our feet and took out a new burner phone. “Here, you need to call, tell them to quit looking for him. I don’t want them wasting precious resources that they can divert back to searching for those two little girls.”

“Can I at least get a shower first?”

She smiled, got up from Eddie’s bed, leaned down, and kissed my forehead. “No.”

I took the phone and dialed Mack’s number. Barbara Wicks answered. “Bruno?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Educated guess. It’s a number John’s phone didn’t recognize, and I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“You answer John’s phone a lot, do you?”

Neither of us said anything more in an uncomfortable, pregnant pause.

I finally said, “Last night, we got proof of life.”

“What? That’s great, Bruno.” She paused again, then said, “But we’re dead in the water here. You’re communicating with him without our trace capability, without the manpower to run down the cell tower leads as they come in. Do you know what you’re doing? Are you going to be able to live with yourself when this thing goes south on you?”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I think this is the best chance we have to get the little girls back.”

She didn’t want to comment on my evaluation of the situation. “We’ve confirmed it, Eddie is number three.”

“Barbara, we have Eddie. We got him back from Jonas last night.”

“What! You’re kidding. Bruno, that’s fantastic. What’s his status? Can you at least drop him at a fire station or clinic?”

I stood and walked into the bathroom and closed the door. “He can’t go back to his adoptive parents.”

Her tone changed from happy to stern and challenging. “Why?”

“They beat him with an electrical cord, one of the worst cases I have ever seen.” The image from last night returned. My knees went weak, and I had to sit down on the toilet seat. She didn’t say anything for a long moment. “How do we know Jonas didn’t do it?”

“That’s one reason why I’m calling. Jonas said that he did his research, and all three children were being abused by their adoptive parents.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes. He doesn’t have any reason to lie. And with Eddie, the injuries are several days old, definitely before he was taken.”

“Drop the child off, Bruno. Go to an ER somewhere, anywhere, go in and drop him off.”

“Can you guarantee he won’t go back to his adoptive parents?”

Silence. Of course she couldn’t. In fact, she knew just like I did that, in all likelihood, Eddie would be placed back with the same abusive parents. That was the way social services worked. The judge would insist the father or mother, whoever had done the horrific abuse, attend a few weeks of therapy. Only a few weeks were never nearly enough to correct a sick mind, one who’d beat a helpless child bloody.

I had also put Barbara in an untenable situation. She couldn’t tell anyone we had recovered Eddie, not without explaining how she had communicated with me, a wanted fugitive who was now thought to be complicit in the taking of all three children.

“What are you going to do with him?” she asked. Being so close to Mack, Barbara had to know about the children we took to South America.

“We’re going to take care of him while we explore our options. What you can do is put a team on researching the background of the kids. Jonas says he knew about the abuse. He got the information somewhere, somehow. He didn’t do the due diligence himself. He’s too memorable in his appearance. His partner in all this must have. You find the partner and you might get a good lead on the other two kids.”

“Bruno, Jesus. Bruno, you can’t save the world. You know that, don’t you? You’re going to have to leave something for the system to handle. I know it’s broken, but there’s going to come a point when you’ll reach a maximum saturation level and sink to the bottom of the ocean, taking with you all those you’re trying to help. You understand what I’m saying?”

I thought about her words while she remained silent. She was right. But how could I possibly walk away? Not without guilt that I could have done something positive when I had the chance.

After a long moment, she said, “I shouldn’t tell you anything about what we have going on at this end, not after what you’ve done. You really stabbed me in the back here, Bruno. And I don’t care so much about me, but you hurt John’s feelings, and when you hurt John-well, don’t do it again, don’t put me in that position.”

I waited for her to tell me what she was leading up to. How many times could I say I was sorry? “Barbara, you know if there was any other way-”

She ignored my entreaty. “We think we know who’s helping Jonas.”

I waited. Guilt wouldn’t let me ask.

“It’s Bella, Bruno, it’s Bella Mabry. She’s out on parole.”

“No way, she can’t be out,” I said. “She got LWOP-Life Without the Possibility of Parole-for killing Betsy and Sally Mabry and for almost killing Jonas.”

“She applied and received compassionate leave,” Barbara said. “The California State Parole Board let her out.”

“I’ll ask it again, why?”

“She’s dying of breast cancer.”

I didn’t like myself for thinking it, but she should have been left in prison to die. “Then she’s the key to all of this. She’s the catalyst that set off Jonas.”

“That’s what I figure. I separated from the FBI task force. They don’t agree with me. They’re still focusing on the kids. They think searching for Bella Mabry is senseless, without any productive value.”

I gripped the phone tighter. “Why?”

“They have a report from the California State Parole that gives her state of health as grave, not likely to survive two weeks.”

“They’re fools.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought. I have all the personnel under my authority that I can divert looking for Bella.”

“That hangs your career out a country mile. If the FBI succeeds and you don’t-”

“Hang the career. At the end of the day I have to do what’s right, or I can’t look myself in the mirror.”

I wanted to remind her that’s exactly what I was doing but held my tongue.

“What you’re doing’s not the same,” Barbara said. “You’re not making the right choices.”

She’d read my mind. I took a moment to reexamine the path I’d chosen and, with a refreshed thought process, I still came up with the same conclusion. “I know, and I’m sorry you feel that way.”

Silence. Then she half-covered the phone and yelled, “Just a minute, John, I’ll be right out.”