Curt would go so far as to have my back if I lost control and tried to pick a fight. And I was getting pretty damn close to that.
Amanda said, "So at least we have direct legal proof that ties the Reed family to this guy Benjamin. But we still don't know why the hell they have anything to do with a criminal."
Jason Pinter
"What if," I said, "the Reeds weren't linked directly to Benjamin?"
"Not sure I follow," Curt said.
"We're forgetting about Petrovsky. He knew Daniel
Linwood and Michelle Oliveira. His career was based around children. Bob and Elaine Reed have one son,
Patrick, and we suspect they might have kidnapped another child, too."
"I'm still waiting for the search on that," Curt said.
"I'm hoping you're wrong."
"Anyway, isn't it possible that somehow the Reeds became linked to Benjamin through Petrovsky?"
"Like some sort of middleman?" Amanda asked.
"Exactly. I'm willing to bet Petrovsky knew Benjamin, and Petrovsky knew the Reeds, as well. Amanda, is there any way you could get information about Patrick Reed? I have a feeling we might see Dmitri Petrovsky's signature on his delivery forms as well."
"I'm on it," Amanda said. She gathered up her coat and purse and stood up. "Good luck, guys." She spent an extra moment looking at me, then she left.
Curt waited until the door had closed, then he said, "So what's going on with you two?"
"Nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing."
"You sound like you're as happy with that situation as
I am with my mortgage."
"Just don't know what to do. I broke up with her, but not a day goes by I don't regret it. In my mind I can erase that mistake, but expecting her to… I wouldn't expect that."
"You think maybe part of the reason you're working this story so hard is to be close to her?"
"I don't know."
"That's not a no."
"No, it's not."
"Part of me don't feel right letting her do some of the dirty work on this. I mean, look at you, man. Seems like every few months you get beat up. You really want her that close to you?"
"That's why I broke it off in the first place," I said. "I took the decision out of her hands. But she's been with me every step of the way on this. Relationship or not, she wants to be here. And it's not my place to tell her not to."
"That's a selfish way to look at the world, especially if she might be in danger."
"I'd kill myself if anything happened to her, Curt," I said. "But she's a hell of a strong woman, and I know that anything I can take, she can, too. Probably more so. She works with kids every day, and she's seen some of the most terrible cases of abuse you can imagine. She doesn't talk about it much, because, well, who wants to bring that kind of work home with her? But don't be fooled into thinking she's in this for me, or for the adrenaline. This is a cause for her. And I respect that."
"So if it's a cause for her, and it's about my job for me, what's it about for you?"
I thought about that for a moment, then said, "The truth, man. It's about the truth. That's my job."
"So since we're both on the job," Curt said, "how the hell do we find the Reeds? They obviously jetted from
Huntley before smokey the pyromaniac got his hands on the house. They're registered with Verizon, but the phone's going right to voice mail. No luck tracking it down just yet.
There are no known family members for either Robert or
Elaine Reed, and we're checking their phone records for friends and acquaintances."
"They won't be at a friend's house," I said. "Benjamin got them into the house on Huntley so they could keep private. That place was like a fortress. You don't go through all that trouble only to have Elaine spill the beans to someone in her knitting group. You said they have a minivan, right?"
"Yeah, a Windstar."
"Nobody buys a minivan for one kid. I'm getting more and more sure that they've kidnapped another child.
Anyway, I'm betting they're staying at a motel somewhere. A place where nobody knows them, and nobody knows where they are except for Benjamin and his crony."
"There's a lot of motels in this country, man. You can't expect us to cover all of them."
"No, but if you're a parent with two bawling kids in a minivan, do you really think you're driving ten, fifteen hours for the same kind of motel you can get within a few miles? My bet is they're still in the state. Say a four-hour drive, make it an even two hundred and forty miles, and that's your radius from Huntley Terrace. They'll stay away from major cities and metropolitan areas."
"There's still a shitload of fleabag motels in that range, Henry."
"Christ, Curt, you're a cop. Don't you guys do this all the time?"
Curt smiled at me. "I'm on it. Go run some more of your magic. I'll give you a ring if we get any more info on the Reeds or other missing children."
"Thanks, Curt, appreciate it. You want to sock me in the eye once, gain a little street cred among your fellow boys in blue?"
"Tempting, but tell you what. Leave the building like I broke you down into tears, we'll call it even. Deal?"
"Deal."
I left the 19th Precinct with a sullen look on my face, as if Curt Sheffield had just ripped the head off my favorite teddy bear. Rounding the corner onto Lexington, I called the Gazette from my cell phone. I asked to be connected to Wallace Langston's office, and the editor-in-chief picked up immediately.
"Wallace, it's Henry."
"Henry, good to hear from you. What's the latest?"
"I'm in the middle of tracking down a family that I'm ninety-nine percent sure is part of some sort of weird kidnapping ring that involves the Linwood and Oliveira children. There's a link between the Reed family and this psycho Benjamin who mistook me for an ashtray. I'm running down the link, and when I have that I'll let you know. How's Jack doing?"
Wallace sighed. "They released him yesterday. He's got the rest of the week off for some R and R and detox.
I've never seen the man like this before. It worries me."
"What do you mean?"
"Jack has been with this newspaper since he was a young man, Henry, younger than you are now. He's worked himself to the bone for his profession. He's a legend in this field, and he's paid his dues to become that.
But Jack's not a young man anymore. You can't go with that same kind of drive, that kind of passion at his age, without compensation. I wonder…God, I can't believe
I'm saying this…but I wonder if his career isn't beginning to wind down."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. But rather than a sensation of pain emanating from it, I felt anger. How could Wallace even begin to question the longevity of
Jack's career? Things were looking bad now, but everyone was entitled to fall off the wagon once or twice. It was a divot in the road, not a full-blown earthquake. And it pissed me off to hear Wallace insinuate otherwise.
"He'll be just fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Give it a week or two, he'll be tracking leads and breaking stories like he's a new man."
"I sincerely hope you're right, Henry. But it worries and saddens me to think you may not be. Listen, my friend, keep pushing on this story. I've gotten three calls from
Gray Talbot's office since your detainment up in Hobbs
County. Our friend the senator is no doubt perturbed that we've ignored his requests. I expect a hate-o-gram to arrive any moment in the mail, but until you see me led away in handcuffs, keep pressing."
"That's what I do," I said. "Talk to you later, Wallace."
I hung up.
It took a moment to register that my stomach was growling. I stopped at a deli and wolfed down a bagel with lox spread and a large coffee. When that was polished off,
I had half a blueberry muffin for dessert. My natural reaction to that would be to run it off the next day, but my legs were beat. I hadn't put in for vacation time in ages. I didn't think Wallace would be all that surprised to see my paperwork cross his desk in the near future.