"And a brick wall surrounding the property."
"That's right."
"And you want us to investigate him. " He paused, a scowl coming over his face. "Sounds to me like you two are the ones should be reprimanded."
"The gates were open," Amanda added. "And Petrovsky spoke to us when we got out of the car."
"That's when," the thin one said, "everything went, ahem, black. Right?"
"Right," I said. "They must have knocked us out or drugged us. I don't remember."
"And why did you follow Petrovsky to begin with?"
Fatty said.
"We think he has knowledge about the kidnappings that took place over the past few years. He was the attending physician for the births of both Daniel Linwood and Michelle
Oliveira. Both children disappeared and reappeared years later with no memory of their time gone missing."
"And why did you decide to follow the good doctor?" thin man said.
"When we first spoke to him at his office, he claimed to not know anything. It was a blatant lie." I paused, then added, "And I think there's been another kidnapping. In addition to Danny Linwood and Michelle."
"You fucking reporters," Ditka said. "Another kidnapping? You find two pieces of information got no connection, you put 'em together and make up some story 'bout how there's some big conspiracy. All just to sell a few newspapers, make a name for yourself. Do you have any proof of another kidnapping?"
"Proof? Not hard evidence, but…"
"Listen, fuckhead. Hobbs County is a nice town. I've lived here near twenty years. Now, ten years ago I might have said, yeah, we got some problems, not exactly the kind of place I'd want my kids growing up. But all that's different now. Things have changed. It's not right for you to go bringing up the bad times, because we're past that."
"Tell that to Dmitri Petrovsky."
"We will when we find him," the other cop said.
"Let's go right now," I said, standing up. "I'm pretty sure I remember how to get there. Us four, right now."
"Calm your horses, tough guy," Ditka said again.
"We're not going anywhere."
We sat there in silence watching the cops drink water for ten minutes. Then right as I was about to grab the thing and douse Amanda and me with it, Wallace Langston entered, followed by Curt Sheffield. I'd never been happier to see anyone in my life.
"I got your message," Wallace said. "And I figured you could use a little backup."
The cops eyed Wallace with skepticism, but when they saw Curt standing there, all six foot three, two hundred sculpted pounds of him, they went right into bully mode once the bullies had been called on their bluff.
Wallace, happy to be good cop to Curt's badass one, passed out his business card to the cops.
"Gentlemen," he said. "My name is Wallace Langston, and Henry Parker is under my employ at the New York
Gazette. Our legal counsel is on the way, but I do have some familiarity with legal rights, and unless you're holding Mr. Parker or Miss Davies for a crime, I'm going to ask you leave the room so we can speak in private. And then we plan to leave your care posthaste."
The cops conferred in a lame attempt at whispering, but we all heard every word. Since it was primarily lots of cursing under their breath, we didn't learn anything new, but they didn't seem particularly keen to grant Wallace's request.
Yet when Curt stepped forward with his hands folded across his chest, they got up right quick and left the room.
As soon as Ditka and his buddy closed the door, I grabbed the pitcher and poured two glasses. We gulped them down in less time than it took Wallace to say,
"Thirsty?"
Water dribbling down my chin, I said, "Yeah, thanks.
Hope those assholes are better detectives than they are hosts."
"I don't think they're any worse detectives than you'll find in most departments," Curt said. "I get the feeling they're slacking off for a reason that doesn't involve apathy."
Wallace walked around to the other side of the table, pulled a chair out and sat down. He looked tired as he ran his hands through his thinning hair. Curt sat down, as well, much more at ease now that he didn't have to play bodyguard.
"Damn, it's fun to scare assholes," he said. "How you holding up, Henry?"
"My chest hurts like hell and other than getting handcuffed to a pipe and seeing the dead body of the doctor I planned to investigate for his involvement in several kidnappings, I'm doing just peachy."
"Amanda?" he said.
She said, "Hey, Curt. I'm okay." Her words betrayed her. Her eyes gave away the terror we'd just escaped.
"Bullshit, but you're one hell of a trouper, Amanda.
You're lucky it's my day off, no way Carruthers would let me come up here to help your ass out on my normal shift.
I expect major reciprocation. I mean major reciprocation."
"No problem," I said. "I can pull a few strings, get you in the gossip pages at the Dispatch for having a thirteeninch prick or something."
"Friends like these," Curt said.
Amanda was still silent. I could tell she was upset, but there was a lot to choose from. If she was still scared or in shock from what happened last night, or from the fact our leads seemed to have shrunk, I couldn't tell. At some point I'd need time to talk to her.
Wallace said. "Henry, tell me, what the hell were you thinking?"
I was taken aback, said stupidly, "Sir?"
"I can't think of any reason for you to be up here. I spoke to the watch commander. He told me you claimed to be pursuing a Dr. Dmitri Petrovsky about his involvement or knowledge about the disappearances of Daniel Linwood and some girl named Michelle Oliveira. Last I recall, I didn't give you permission to be working this story. In fact,
I distinctly remember telling you to stay the hell away from it."
"Sir, I know," I said. "But there is more to this case than we think. Michelle Oliveira disappeared and reappeared in the exact same way as Daniel Linwood. And we were able to confirm that Petrovsky was the attending pediatrician for both children. He's involved. We can be sure about that now. He set us up last night."
"And now, what, you go on stakeouts? You put on a surveillance detail? Who are you, Kojak?"
"No, sir."
"So did you not hear me the other day, Parker? Did you not understand me when I told you to work another story?"
I mumbled under my breath. Loud enough so that everyone at the table could hear me.
"I'm sorry, what was that, Henry?" Wallace said, folding his ear forward mockingly.
"I said nobody else gives a shit. That's why I do."
"I must have missed something," Wallace said. "Where do you get off saying nobody cares?"
"Look at this!" I yelled. "You want me off the story because Gray Talbot sticks his manicured nails into things.
He wants the community to heal. And I'm getting the runaround worse in Hobbs County than I did from my dad, and that's saying something. These cops either don't give a shit, or just want to sweep everything under the carpet.
And meanwhile, the parents of these poor kids have to deal with the fact that there are five years missing from their children's lives and everyone else is sitting around with their thumbs up their asses like it's a source of protein."
Wallace sat back, stunned for a moment. I caught my breath. Half expected him to fire me on the spot.
"You're wrong, Parker," he said. "We do care. But what's done is done. Those kids are never getting those years back. These kind of wounds need time to heal, and the longer we leave them open, the more gangrene sets in, both for the families and their communities. Hobbs County won't win any 'best place to raise your family' awards, but it's a long way from what it used to be. People in Meriden regrouped after Michelle Oliveira came back. They banded together. Made the town safer. A better place to live. I hate to say this, but that girl disappearing was the best thing that ever happened to that town. I think you can understand why folks aren't keen to reopen old wounds."