“I think you’re terrific.”
He was still thinking about my “friend.” I could hear it in his voice.
“I gave the information to Greg Van Horn, but he’s going on vacation. He told me to check the lead and see if it goes anywhere. If it does, he told me to play it by ear.”
“He’s giving you opportunity to flex your muscles. He’s being nice, Cin.”
“I know that. I thanked him. He’s giving me a chance and I don’t want to mess it up. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare morning, would you?”
His laughter was immediate. “Now, what good would it do if I tagged along?”
“You could poke me in the ribs if I get off track?”
“Go get a pencil.”
“Okay.” I pulled out a pencil and a pad of paper from my nightstand. I always kept them there in case I thought of something inspirational. “I’m armed and ready.”
“Listen up! You want to find out about this girl, but you have to go through the sister. What you don’t want to do is alienate the sister. First you introduce yourself. You ask if you can come in and say that you won’t take very long. That’s important. If they think you’re going to take a long time, it makes them even more nervous. You act casual. You tell them you’ve been doing a little searching that led to the Fordham home. The girl… What’s her name?”
“Sarah.”
“Sarah hasn’t been in school for a while. Is everything okay? The sister may not answer the question. She may ask, ‘What is this all about?’ You say, you’re coming to that. How is Sarah? Now the sister will probably say something about her health. ‘Yes, she’s fine,’ or ‘No, she hasn’t been fine. What’s going on?’ ”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I was writing so fast that my hand was cramping. “Okay. Continue.”
“When she asks about your business the second time, you get to the point. It should go something like this.
“You say: ‘A couple of days ago, LAPD found an abandoned baby in a Dumpster. Maybe you read about it in the paper?’
“She says: ‘Yes, that was terrible, but I still don’t understand why you’re here.’
“You say: ‘Mrs. So and so-’ ”
“I don’t think she’s married,” I interjected. “The name is Sanders, by the way.”
“Okay. So say something like… ‘Ms. Sanders, I think you might like to know that we’re actively looking for the mother of this child. It’s very important that we find her, not topunishher, but tohelpher.’ By now, if she has any brain in her head, she knows what you’re getting at.”
I wrote furiously, then put the pencil down for a break. “Well, then, let’s hope she has a brain.” I laced my fingers together, flipped them around, and stretched out my arms until my knuckles cracked.
Dad continued. “Cindy, it’s very important that you talk to Ms. Sanders and get her on your side before she brings in Sarah. She’s probably used to treating Sarah like a child, so her first reaction might be to yell at her or confront her… Don’t let her do this. Calm Ms. Sanders down first and then interview Sarah. It’s very important that no one feels threatened-the sister or the girl. When people are defensive, they don’t talk.
“There’s another possibility-that the sister will be completely protective and not let you get within ten feet of Sarah. If this happens, you calm the sister down and assure her that you have Sarah’s medical and psychological interest at heart.”
“I do. It’s the truth.”
“I know, honey. Look, Cindy, it’s late. I’ve got to get some sleep. But I’ll be reachable all morning. If you have a problem, don’t hesitate to call me on my cell. But honestly, I don’t think you’ll need to, because I know you’ll handle it perfectly. After what you’ve gone through, this should be easy.”
“Thanks for the confidence. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too.” A pause. “So how’d you meet this guy?”
“We’re not having this conversation, Dad.”
“Just use me and discard me.”
“What else are parents for?”
It was a one-storySpanish house sitting in a block of Arts and Crafts bungalows, the stucco so white it sparkled like snowdrift. Nestled among large-leaf banana plants and cocoa palms, the home had the requisite red-tiled roof and the little gated courtyard. Full of curb appeaclass="underline" That was real estate lingo for something that looked good on the outside. I had tried to dress soothingly-a sage blazer over cream-colored blouse and slacks-but I suspected that Ms. Sanders wouldn’t be focusing on my sartorial splendor.
It was just past eight in the morning, early enough to catch her before she went to work, and I chose not to phone beforehand because I didn’t want to scare anyone off. I rang the bell. The peephole door opened.
“Yes?”
“Good morning. I’m Officer Cynthia Decker. I’m looking for Louise Sanders.”
“Who are you?”
“Officer Cynthia Decker of Los Angeles Police-Hollywood.”
She opened the door a fraction of an inch. The chain was still attached. “Can I see some ID, please?”
Billfold already in hand, I slipped it through the crack. She took it and, after a few moments, passed it back. The door opened all the way.
She was much older than I expected-in her late forties or early fifties. I was led to believe that Sarah was in her twenties. That meant there was quite an age gap between them. Louise had short, blunt-cut gray hair that framed an oval face and gray-green eyes. Her features were regular, and once, she had been pretty. Now, she was handsome in her black skirt suit and crisp white blouse.
“Yes?”
“May I come in for a few minutes?”
“What’s this all about?”
“I’ll be happy to explain everything, but it’s better if we talk inside.”
Reluctantly, she allowed me to cross the threshold. The living room was small but restored beautifully-dark beamed ceilings, Saltillo tiled floor, textured beige stucco walls, and lots of molding and niches. There was a brown leather couch with matching chairs; the accent tables were made of heavy dark wood. An upright piano stood in the corner; a sheet of music rested on the stand. I asked her who played.
“My sister. What’s going on?”
“Thank you for your patience. Can I sit down?”
“Yes, of course.”
I settled into one of the leather chairs. She sat on the couch. “A case I’m working on led me to your sister’s school-the Fordham Communal Center…”
“Yes, yes. What about it?”
“I understand Sarah hasn’t been feeling well. How’s she doing?”
The woman was taken aback. “That’s why you’re here?”
“Is Sarah all right?”
“As a matter of fact, she’s not well. She has some health issues. I was thinking of taking her to the doctor’s this morning.”
“I think that might be a good idea.”
“Why?” She became startled. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I honestly don’t know if anything’s wrong with her. Let me tell you why I’m here and then you decide. Several days ago, LAPD found a newborn infant in a Dumpster behind a nearby restaurant. Perhaps you read about it in the paper?”
“I saw it on the news.”
“I pulled her out. It was pretty scary, but I’m happy to report that the baby’s doing well and is in very good health.”
“That’s nice.” A glance at the watch. “Can we get to the point?”
“I was just wondering if… well, maybe Sarah’s lost a little weight recently?”
The woman’s eyes widened as shock swept across her face. “What!” She stood up and screamed, “Sarah! Get here-”
“Wait, wait, wait!” I gently touched her arm. “Before we get her involved, how about if we talk about this calmly.”