"Acts of Mercy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stewart Mariah)

THREE

So what did you think of him?” Trula wiped down a counter where she’d rolled out dough for a peach pie. “Sam? That was his name, right?”

“I think he’d be perfect.” Mallory swiped one of the peaches and took a bite before Trula could stop her. “I’d love to have someone on the staff with his credentials, someone who has a deep understanding of criminal behavior. Someone who has some real insights into what makes these people tick.”

“By ‘these people,’ you mean the bad guys.” Trula searched a cabinet, noisily moving pans from one place to another. She found what she was looking for-a glass pie plate-and closed the cabinet door.

“Yeah. Sam has a lot of experience there. He was in some special FBI unit that handled the most challenging cases. The letter from his superior was glowing.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I get the feeling he isn’t sure that he wants the job.” Mallory grabbed a paper towel to wipe the peach juice from her chin. “Great peaches, Trula. Where’d you get them?”

“The farmers’ market in Toby Falls.” She went about the business of pie making without missing a beat. “So why would he apply for a job he doesn’t want?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Did he say he didn’t want it?”

“Noooo, but…”

“Then if you think he’s the right person for the job, if you think he’d be an asset…”

“I definitely think he’d be an asset.”

“… then offer him the job and see what he says.”

“I wanted to talk to everyone about him first,” Mallory told her.

“In that case, I hope you’re not looking to bring him on board any time soon. Robert, Susanna, and Emme are still in West Kingston working with those search parties they organized to look for Ian, and they won’t be back until Friday. Kevin took some of the seniors from Our Lady of Angels to the cathedral in Philadelphia today. He won’t be back till late this afternoon, but he does have his cell with him.” Trula shook her head. “If I get my hands on whoever it was who took that baby, it’s going to take an act of God Almighty himself to keep me from throttling the life from him. Or her.”

“I spoke with Emme this morning. She said there’s been no sign of anything that would give them a clue as to what happened to Ian.”

“But knowing Robert, he’ll keep on looking until…” She paused, overcome by emotion.

Mallory squeezed the woman’s shoulder. “They’ll keep looking until they find him, one way or another. Now that Robert has reason to suspect the baby might still be alive, he isn’t going to give up until he finds him.”

“He isn’t a baby anymore. He’s two and a half already.” Trula wiped away tears. “He’s a toddler. He’s probably walking and talking, maybe even going to preschool somewhere. He’s grown so much, learned so much, since we saw him. It’s killing Robert, you know, to have missed all Ian’s firsts.”

“Hopefully, once they find Ian, having him back will make up for everything he’s missed.”

“Assuming they can find him.” Trula began to peel the peaches, her knife working furiously. “Someone has that boy and knows he isn’t theirs. People see that child every day, and don’t know that he’s not who they think he is.”

“Assuming he’s still alive,” Mallory reminded her.

“He’s still alive,” Trula said. “He’s alive and someone is raising him as if he’s theirs.” She slammed an angry fist on the counter. “What kind of person does something like that?”

“I don’t know, Trula.” Mallory sighed. “All those years I was a cop, I saw things… things that most people can’t even imagine. And every time, I’d wonder that same thing: what kind of person can do this and live with themselves?”

“I don’t suppose there’s ever been an answer.”

Mallory shook her head no. “Sometimes you meet people who are so good, inside and out, that you feel lucky to have had them cross your path.” Like you, Trula, she could have added, but Trula being Trula and prickly at times, Mallory decided against it. “Then there are others who are so filled with hate and anger and evil, that you wonder how they could even be human.” She leaned on the counter. “There aren’t always answers. There isn’t always a reason.”

Trula sighed and turned around to face Mallory. “What are the chances?” she asked. “Is it even possible to hope that Robert will be able to find him?”

Mallory chose her words carefully, though not quite as carefully as she had when Robert had asked the same questions.

“It is possible. It’s a matter of finding the right lead.”

“Of which there have been none.”

“So far. But we’ll see how it plays out. Sometimes it’s a matter of simply asking the right questions of the right people.”

“Robert will never stop looking until he finds Ian.”

“He shouldn’t stop looking. I wouldn’t, if Ian were mine.” She glanced at the clock. “In the meantime, we have a business to run here. I’m going to call Robert and the others and we’ll see what the consensus is.”

“Robert’s going to tell you to do what you think is best. Kevin will tell you to follow your instincts, and Susanna is going to ask you what Robert said. Emme will be happy to have another investigator to share the workload.” Trula smiled. “Sam seemed like a nice enough fellow. I say go for it. So when Robert asks you if I had anything to say, you can tell him.”

“I’ll call Robert first.”

“Good move.” Trula went back to preparing the filling for her pie.

“By the way, what are you going to do with that pie?” Mallory asked. “Who knows when Robert and Susanna will be back. And if I remember correctly, you don’t like peach pie.” She leaned on the counter. “So who’s the pie for, hmmmm?”

“It might go home with you for a certain detective who’s had to work around the clock for the past two weeks.” Trula watched from the corner of her eye as Mallory stealthily pocketed another peach. “Then again, maybe it’s for Father Kevin.”

Grinning and assured of one great dessert to share with Charlie when he got home that night-if he got home that night-Mallory went back to her office, the second peach and another paper towel in her pocket.

Trula had been spot-on in her predictions: Robert had, in fact, told Mallory to do what she thought was best.

“Hire him if you think he’s the right guy,” he’d said, obviously distracted by the ongoing search for his son, which at the moment consisted of a sort of dragnet through the area of woods where the car had been found. “You’re in charge of staffing. I trust your judgment one hundred percent. Besides, I’m not thinking a whole lot about the business right now, so if you like him, bring him on. We still have that six-week probationary period, right? If he doesn’t work out, he’s gone when the time’s up.”

Her next call was to Emme, who’d been delighted at the possibility of another investigator coming on board.

Susanna was also distracted by the ongoing search for Ian, and as expected, had deferred to Robert. Kevin had been characteristically diplomatic: “Listen to your gut,” he’d said.

Mallory made the call to Sam DelVecchio, and was surprised at his immediate-and positive-response.

“When do I start?” he asked.

She realized that she’d been so uncertain he’d even take the job that she hadn’t given a starting date much thought.

“When would you like to start?”

“I’ll need to tie up a few loose ends,” he said. “Is two weeks too long?”

“Not for me, but it might be for Lynne Walker.”

“Good point.” He paused, then said, “I’m going to have to go back to Virginia, take care of a few things, and then I’m going to have to find a place to live there.”

“I think I mentioned at the interview that you’ll be on probation for six weeks or until your first case is resolved, whichever comes first.”

“So what you’re saying is, don’t be in a hurry to put an ad in the paper to sublet my apartment.”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“I’ll still need to find some temporary lodgings there.”

“Emme Caldwell-she was our first hire-stayed at a nice enough motel when she first started. I’d be happy to make a reservation for you at the same place. It’s not too far from the house and it has a restaurant and pool.”

“That would be great, thanks.” He paused. “I’m assuming I’ll be meeting Mr. Magellan sometime during the six-week period?”

“Possibly. He’s a little busy right now. But don’t address him as Mr. Magellan. He much prefers to be called Robert.”

They discussed the Walker case and Sam said he could be up and running by Monday morning, which suited everyone just fine.

Mallory hung up and immediately placed a call to Lynne Walker.

“This is Mallory Russo from the Mercy Street Foundation,” she began when the call was picked up. “I’d like to speak with Lynne Walker.”

“This is Lynne.” There was a pause. “Who did you say…?”

“Mallory Russo, from the Mercy Street Foundation. We’ve reviewed the application you sent in regarding your late husband. We’d like to take on the case, if you’re still interested in us doing so.”

“Is this a joke?” Lynne Walker’s voice was trembling. “Because if this is supposed to be funny…”

“It’s not a joke, Mrs. Walker. We’d like to look into your husband’s murder.”

“Oh, my God. You’re serious. I never thought you’d really choose us.” She began to cry. “I can’t believe you’re really going to do this.”

“We have an investigator ready to start work on this, next week. He’ll be contacting you on Monday or Tuesday to set up a meeting.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said again. “I can’t believe there’s a chance we might finally find out what happened to Ross.”

“There are no guarantees, Mrs. Walker. Please understand that. We will do our best, but we can’t promise that we’ll find anything the police haven’t already found.”

“Which is basically nothing,” she said bitterly. “They aren’t any closer now than they were the day Ross died. I call down there to the police department and every month it’s the same. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Walker, but there have been no new developments.’”

“I understand your frustration, but I’m sure the police have done the best they can with the personnel they have.”

“I read about those other cases you people solved. Those kids there in Pennsylvania, and that college girl down in Maryland. You people get results.”

“It’s much easier when all your efforts and resources are concentrated on one case. The police generally don’t have that luxury.”

“I don’t think they cared one way or another.”

“It might seem that way sometimes, but having been a police officer myself, I can tell you that every case is important, and nothing rankles like the case you could not solve.”

“You said someone would be calling me next week.”

“Most likely late afternoon Monday or sometime on Tuesday.” Mallory hesitated. She probably shouldn’t box Sam in but it was too late now. “The investigator will be Sam DelVecchio.”

“Tell Mr. DelVecchio I’ll be waiting to hear from him. I’ll wait here until he calls. I don’t want to miss him.”

“I’m sure he’ll leave a message if you’re not there, so if there are things you-”

“You don’t understand,” Lynne Walker said, cutting her off. “I have waited months to make some sense of what happened to Ross. I want to move past the horror of what happened, I want to move away from this town and this house and this life. I want my children to stop being afraid that the person who killed their father is going to come back to kill me, or to kill them. We need answers, Miss Russo. Until we have them, we’re just stuck right here, right where we were on the day Ross was murdered.” “We’ll do our best. I can’t promise more than that.” “That’s all I can ask,” the woman replied. “Thank you-and thank Mr. Magellan for what he’s doing. I saw on the news where they found his wife but not his baby boy. I’m praying for him.”

“I’ll let him know that,” Mallory assured her as she hung up from the call. “We’re all praying for him, too.”