“She was calming down,” she said.
“Has she said anything about what happened?” Kovac asked.
Kate shook her head as she walked over to him with her arms crossed. Kovac recognized the look. She was pissed off. He wondered how much Carey might have confided in her regarding her marriage.
“She hasn’t said a word,” Kate said softly. “I wouldn’t count on her talking about this for a long time.”
“Do you think she witnessed the abduction?”
“Part of it, anyway. She’s terrified. This isn’t just about waking up and not finding anybody home.”
“We need to know what she knows,” Kovac said. “And I don’t want Moore anywhere near her when we ask those questions. In fact, I don’t want Moore anywhere near her, period.”
“Me neither,” Kate said. “But he is her father. Whatever else David might be, he is good at that. I’m sure Lucy will want to stay with him.”
Kovac looked to Dawes. “How are we supposed to get an answer out of her with Moore right there? He’s at the top of the suspect list, for God’s sake.”
“We can’t question a child without a parent or guardian present,” Dawes insisted.
“Don’t you need David to stay here in case there’s a ransom call?” Kate asked.
“Absolutely,” Kovac said.
She nodded and went back over to Moore, who was rocking his daughter back and forth as she cried. She knelt down beside them and started speaking quietly.
“David, things are going to stay crazy here all day, and probably beyond that. And I know the police are going to need you to be here in case there’s a call from the kidnappers. Why don’t I take Lucy to my house? She’ll be in a safe, familiar environment. Maybe she’ll be able to get some rest.”
Kovac tipped his head toward Dawes. “I guess that’s one way to do it.”
“As opposed to what?”
“Kicking his ass.”
41
“HE HASN’T ASKED one question about his wife,” Kovac said. “She could be in the basement, carved up like a Halloween pumpkin, for all he knows. If he’s an innocent man, don’t you think he would have shown a little concern by now?”
“Innocent?” Liska said. “How about just plain decent?”
“How about human?” Kovac said.
The task force had gathered in the Moores ’ formal dining room, a change of venue made necessary by the morning’s events. With Dawes and Kovac already on scene to deal with the chaos, it had seemed easier for the rest of the crew to come to them.
The room was a far cry from their war room at headquarters. Instead of commercial carpet, white walls, long tables loaded with files and notes, they had something out of a home decor magazine. Antiques, mahogany, china, crystal. A room the family rarely used, by the look of it.
David Moore was on the other side of the house, sitting in the den with a phone gadget specialist who had been volunteered by the BCA (the state Bureau of Criminal Apprehension), waiting for a ransom call no one really expected to come.
Lieutenant Dawes gave Kovac a warning look. “Rein yourself in, Detective.”
“What?” Kovac snapped as he paced back and forth at one end of the table. “He’s a suspect, even if we know his whereabouts last night. He can cry ‘harassment’ all he wants. It doesn’t change the fact that investigations into abductions are always two-pronged: outside the family and inside the family.”
“I know how investigations are run,” Dawes said. “But you are not going to be the one in his face.”
“Why not?” Kovac demanded. “I’m the one that’s been poking at him from the start. He’s off balance with me already. It’s not going to take that much more to tip him over the edge. He loses his temper, he’ll say something he shouldn’t. He’s not smart enough to keep his cool.”
“Neither are you,” Liska said, raising chuckles around the table.
“He’s smart enough that he’s managed to live a secret life under the nose of one of the sharpest prosecuting attorneys I’ve ever known,” Chris Logan said.
Logan had joined the team, making himself available to help with warrants or anything else the detectives needed. He looked as wired as Kovac felt. He had pulled his power tie loose and unbuttoned the neck of his shirt. He was pacing too.
“He hasn’t seen me yet,” Logan said. “He’s going to think we’ve upped the ante, involving the prosecutor’s office. Let me and Kovac speak to him together.”
Dawes sighed. “He’s not under arrest. Be careful what you ask and how you ask him.”
Logan arched an eyebrow. “That’s usually my line.”
“Can we get warrants?” Kovac asked. “I want his financials. And I want to toss that den and the girlfriend’s apartment.”
“Don’t push your luck,” Logan said.
“Have we forgotten our strange little colleague who’s running around performing his own personal version of The Scarlet Letter?” Tippen asked dryly. “Our man Stan left his intentions on videotape.”
“But how does Dempsey get in the house?” Elwood asked. “How does he get past the security system?”
“When did he become a blond woman?” Liska asked. “That’s who pulled out of here this morning: a blond woman.”
“Even in a wig, even from a distance, nobody is going to mistake Stan Dempsey for a woman,” Dawes said.
“So we’re back to thinking it was the nanny driving out of here this morning?” Logan asked.
“Blonde in a Saab,” Liska said.
Kovac stopped his pacing, his brow knitting. “The guy who joined Moore and his girlfriend and Edmund Ivors Friday night at the Marquette. He’s blond, slender, fine features.”
He turned back to Dawes. “Did you get the security tape from the bar?”
“It’s at the station.”
“But if he’s the hired gun,” Liska said, “where’s the nanny? The cops outside saw one woman in the car.”
“So he took the nanny too?” Tippen said. “Why?”
“I still say if the nanny was involved, she would have been smarter to stay here,” Kovac said. “Why draw suspicion?”
“If she acted alone, she wouldn’t have had any choice,” Dawes said.
“But then what?” Liska asked. “If she made off with the judge, dumped the body somewhere, she can’t exactly come cruising in here and tell us she’s been at Starbucks all this time. How does she ever come back here?”
“Maybe she doesn’t,” Elwood said. “She’s Swedish; she’s got a passport. Say she dumps the judge, hops a plane to wherever, and David Moore joins her after the furor has died down. After he’s gotten his hands on Judge Moore’s money.”
“Well, there’s one good way to find out,” Logan said. He looked at Kovac and tipped his head toward the closed dining room door.
“Okay,” Dawes said. “You two go that route. Elwood, Tippen, go back to the station, get on the phones, and call all the airlines. See if this girl booked herself a flight somewhere.
“Nikki, do you still think the Haas boy and his friend might be connected to this?”
Liska shrugged. “I don’t know. Assaulting the judge in the parking ramp was one thing. Could Bobby Haas mastermind a kidnapping as slick as this one? Seems unlikely.”
Dawes nodded. “And what would his motive be for doing something this risky?”
“To get the Dahl trial handed over to another judge,” Liska suggested. “Some hang-’em-high type.”
“We have one of those?” Elwood asked, puzzled.
“Any word on the father of the dead foster children?” Dawes asked.
Liska nodded. “The reason we couldn’t find Ethan Pratt is that he’s enjoying the hospitality of our brethren in St. Paul. Another bar fight.”
“Another Dallas Cowboys fan?” Tippen asked.