“Where do you think people in big cities live?” Sheridan asked her sister, annoyed.
Lucy shrugged. “I thought they all lived in apartments a hundred floors up. You know, cool places, like on TV.”
Joe thought, What if April hated the sight of him? What if she refused to come back because of what she thought he’d done? What if she was so damaged by what had happened that they didn’t even know her?
STARTING OUT WITH the photograph, library card, stubs for the “El,” and a middle school girls basketball schedule, the FBI had been able to pinpoint the likely location of April Keeley Voricek within a day and a half. Joe had been suitably impressed at what the Bureau could do with their technology, manpower, and a competent leader running the investigation: Special Agent Chuck Coon. Portenson, Coon said, was happy to turn over the case and get out of the way since he had bigger fish to fry: press conferences, conference calls filled with accolades from Governor Rulon, the acting head of U.S. Homeland Security, his superiors in Washington.
Coon said Portenson had already listed his home in Cheyenne for sale.
JANE DICKENSON talked over the heads of the Picketts to Agent Coon.
Dickenson said, “We’re finding out all sorts of things about the Sovereign network. There are a lot more of them out there scattered across the country than we thought. And since they completely distrust the government, they’ve been operating their own child placement operation for years. To be honest, most of the kids seem to be doing pretty well. But in some instances, they’ve shuffled kids from family to family across the country. And because it’s all privately funded-secretly funded, to be more accurate-the kids are under our radar. They’re out of the social welfare system, so we simply don’t know how many there are or where they are. We’re learning a lot, though.”
Coon asked, “How much do you know about Ed and Mary Ann Voricek?”
Joe and Marybeth followed the exchange in silence.
“We have a file on them,” Dickenson said. “But until yesterday it wasn’t high priority. A few years ago a neighbor made a call saying it seemed like there were a lot of children coming and going in that house. A caseworker visited them and saw no signs of neglect or abuse. Since our workload is massive and some of the things we have to deal with are horrendous, we concentrate on the high-priority cases. We just don’t have the manpower to snoop around a house when everything seems in order and the children seem to be on the right track.”
Leslie Doran opened a folder. “The Voriceks seem to take in these kids solely for the money. That’s my take on them, anyway. Neither Ed nor Mary Ann seems to be very committed to the Sovereign movement or survivalist cause. Ed might have had some peripheral contacts with them, but I doubt they’re true believers. If Ed sold Vicki to a brothel like you people say he did, he must have been in a desperate situation because we don’t have any record of similar allegations on him in the file.”
Donnell said, “Ed’s a gambler. He’s got debts to cover. And from what I’ve heard, he’s scared to death of Mary Ann finding out he’s still gambling. That may have been his motivation, the slimeball.”
Coon nodded. “What do we know about Vicki Burgess?”
“Not much. But we think she was in that campground six years ago. We think she might have known April Keeley then. The fact that they apparently reunited here in Chicago is providence.”
Joe closed his eyes.
COON TURNED TO MARYBETH. “What’s Vicki’s condition?”
“More hopeful,” she said, managing a smile. “There has been some brain activity, which is encouraging. The doctors are being cautious but they’ve upped her odds to sixty-forty for a full recovery. But there will no doubt be psychological issues to deal with if she comes out of her coma. And thanks to the Bureau, Vicki’s grandparents were located and have agreed to take her in.”
Coon whistled. “That’s fantastic. She’s still in Rapid City?”
Marybeth shook her head. “She’s been transferred to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. She’s got the very best care.”
Coon looked puzzled. Joe smiled inwardly.
“My mother,” Marybeth explained. “She recently came into quite a bit of money. I asked her to step up and help with the medical expenses.”
Coon looked to Joe and said, “Your mother-in-law is a very generous woman.”
Sheridan stifled a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand. Marybeth shot her a look.
Joe said, “She’s a peach, all right.”
“That she’d agree to pay for the care of a girl she didn’t even know,” Coon said, “I’d call her an angel.”
“Oh, she is,” Marybeth said, straight-faced.
Joe had been in his office and overheard Marybeth talking to her mother about Vicki at the kitchen table. When Marybeth suggested Missy step in, her mother had demurred by pointing out she’d never even met the girl. Joe thought the topic was settled when Marybeth went on to other things. Then, five minutes later, he heard his wife say:
“Is Earl aware that you’re ten years older than you told him you were and that you have four ex-husbands instead of two?”
Missy asked icily, “Why are you doing this?”
“I bet it would be a shock to him if he found out the truth,” Marybeth said conversationally. “Of course, he’d never need to find out if you and the Earl of Lexington performed a particular act of kindness.”
Joe always knew Marybeth could play hardball. She knew no bounds when her maternal instincts took over. Even Missy, who continued to surprise Joe with her ruthlessness, must have felt that she’d finally encountered a worthy opponent in her very own daughter.
THEY WATCHED from the Suburban as the liaison, Doran, Dickenson, and two uniforms knocked on the front door of 18310 Kilpatrick. Sleet had begun to fall and it smeared the windows of the SUV and made all of the dark-clad bodies near the door undulate.
The woman who opened the door was tall and wide and angry. She yelled, “Ed!” over her shoulder.
Ed appeared behind her. He was overweight with a perfectly round bald head and a comb-over that started just above his ear. He wore an open flannel shirt over a black wife-beater, and when he saw the police he went still and turned white.
Joe could see Mary Ann yell at him to do something. Ed didn’t do anything. He looked down at his slippers and stood aside for them to enter. Mary Ann continued to harangue him, but Ed looked beaten.
“That was easy,” Coon said to no one in particular.
In a few minutes, Jane Dickenson stepped back out of the front door and gestured a thumbs-up to the SUV.
“She’s here,” Marybeth whispered. “Are you girls still okay with this?”