She was out of reach, p.21
She Was Out of Reach, page 21
She nodded and didn’t immediately call for a doctor to put him through the CAT scan machine. Apparently, Zachary had given her the right answer.
Heather sat down and pulled her chair closer to the bed. “Are you trying to scare us all to death?” she accused. “The last thing any of us wants to hear is that you blew yourself up.”
“It wasn’t my plan,” Zachary assured her. He looked at Kenzie, worrying about her. Heather could make jokes about it, but he hated to think how she must have felt when she got the news that Zachary had unwittingly exploded a bomb. He remembered his panic-stricken trip to the hospital when he’d heard that she’d been hit by a car. “How did you find out? You were there right away.”
“I got a call from the security company that there had been an explosion at the house. I got home as quickly as I could. The fire engines were there ahead of me. They wouldn’t let me into the house before they cleared it and got you out. But once they brought you out of the house, I was able to get to you.”
Zachary nodded, vaguely remembering it. “You were… there.”
“You were having flashbacks to the fire. They didn’t know what was wrong.”
“Yeah. Thank you… for being there.”
“Thank you for not blowing yourself to kingdom come.”
He knew her teasing hid her deeper feelings. She didn’t want to be vulnerable about how scared she had been when she heard that he had blown up a bomb in the kitchen. Maybe she didn’t want to talk to him about it, and maybe it was because Heather was there and she didn’t want anyone else in on it.
“Happy to oblige,” he told her, matching her levity. Then he turned his attention to Heather. “So, what else have you found out? Anything important?”
“I didn’t exactly come here to brief you.”
“Well, we might as well save a phone call. Unless you don’t have anything. If there isn’t anything else, that’s fine, of course. You might not have had time or there might not have been anything else to find.”
“Well, you asked for anything else on Rose’s boyfriend.”
Zachary tried to sit up more. Kenzie worked the buttons on the bed to raise the head so that he was sitting up partway.
“Yeah. You found something on him?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for. Started with the usual, criminal background, credit check, internet search, social media.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Credit rating is poor. He’s racked up a lot of debt and has not been able to manage his finances very well. Impulsive buys, from what I can tell. You see it playing out on his social networks. Buys a new toy, maybe a motorbike or a kayak or something like that, and for a few weeks, he’s ‘all in.’ He’s now a passionate biker or kayaker. But after a few weeks, it tapers off. He isn’t getting along with the other bikers. He’s not getting the support from his friends, who never were interested in biking or kayaking and don’t care to hear about it all the time.”
Zachary could understand the pattern. Being impulsive himself, he knew how hard it was not to chase every shiny new thing or experience. If he’d had the money, he could see himself falling into that trap, too. But he’d had to scrape up a living to keep himself off the streets when he aged out of foster care. He’d known how close he was to disaster if he made a wrong move those first few years, and once he was better established, he’d ingrained good habits. He wouldn’t charge anything he couldn’t pay off immediately, and kept a cushion in his bank account to guard against future troubles.
“Is there anything else? Other than being fiscally irresponsible?”
“Well, I gotta say, I would have problems bringing him into a family with children. This immaturity and irresponsibility… not exactly conducive to trying to co-parent a child.”
“You don’t think he would be a good dad? But Rose has been a single parent, so she probably isn’t looking for someone to take on that role. She’s doing it fine on her own. So maybe she’s fine with him just being… the entertainment after Claire has gone to bed or occasionally when she hires a babysitter.”
“But after digging deeper… you might have a different opinion of him.”
Zachary smiled. He loved it when Heather found something interesting. He was proud of his big sister, who hadn’t worked until he had taken her on as an assistant. He offered to train her in skip tracing and some of the other PI skills that she could do from her computer, and she had taken on way more, helping him out with accounting, keeping his emails and project lists organized, and doing some of the other things that he was not good at or hated to do. Hearing what she had discovered was just as satisfying as finding it out himself. Maybe even more so.
“What else did you find?”
“He’s served time.”
He got goosebumps. Was this their guy? “Well, that makes a bit of a difference. For what, fraud? Kiting checks?”
“Nobody even writes checks anymore, Zachary,” she told him.
“Okay, what then?”
“All of the details are not clear. I’ve ordered a few filings to get more information, but… child abuse and neglect.”
Zachary was floored. He tried to pick up his jaw from the floor. “You’re kidding me.”
“Would I joke about something like that?”
Of course he knew she wasn’t joking. He just couldn’t believe this news. “Wow. Do you know any details at all?”
“He wasn’t married, but was living with a woman. Kids were apprehended by DCF. They were in bad shape. All adults in the household were charged. He served the least amount of time, just a few months. So he probably wasn’t directly involved in any abuse. But he did at least allow it to go on. Didn’t take care of the kids or report the situation himself.”
“And this did not show up on his criminal record check? Was it in another state?”
“The conviction was vacated. He kept clean after he was released and applied to have it expunged. He might have testified against the mother; I won’t know until I get a look at some of the documents I have ordered copies of.”
“How did you find it?”
“A few lines in the news. Most of the articles focused on the mother and the other adults in the house. There were apparently a number of them living together: her sister and her family, maybe a grandparent or two from time to time, or just someone one of them brought home one day. Drew was only a little fish, only tangentially involved, but his name appeared in several articles.”
“And even though his record was expunged, you can’t expunge those news reports.”
Heather nodded her agreement, looking proud of herself.
“Good work, Feathers. That’s critical information.” He pressed his lips together, thinking about the situation. Had Drew had anything to do with Claire’s disappearance? Either himself or by hiring someone to do it? Bribing an employee or two at the play place to look the other way? Alternatively, had he let Rose know that he didn’t have any interest in raising a child and she wanted him enough to dispose of Claire? Were they wrong, and Rose’s actions at the play place had all been thought out ahead of time and carefully planned? What if she and Drew had paired up to pull off the kidnapping? With the two of them working together, could they have done it? Rose to appear on the security camera and establish her alibi, and Drew to grab Claire behind the scenes and…
Again, he stalled, unsure what Drew could have done to get Claire out of the play place without anyone seeing.
They were both tech people. Could they have reprogrammed the surveillance cameras to make it look like Rose had been sitting in the same place the whole time and Drew had not been in any of the employee-only hallways? Even with all their computer skills, they still had to walk by real people who would notice someone taking a child or body out the back way.
“We’ll need to get this information to Campbell. He can dig into it further. And I’ll need to let Rose know…” He wanted to see her face himself. He didn’t want to hear about it second or thirdhand from Campbell. He could only trust what he saw with his own eyes.
“But you’re going to take a few days off,” Kenzie reminded him. “You’ll need a few days to recuperate, even if your injuries are only minor.”
Zachary felt like he had already spent all day sleeping. He wanted to get up and do something. Talk to Rose. Read through the report that Heather had prepared to get some additional details. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked at Kenzie, trying to work out the timeline in his mind.
“Wait… is it today or tomorrow? I mean… It was afternoon when I got home and picked up the package, and now it’s…” He looked at the brightly lit window. The sun was high in the sky. He’d slept for hours, much longer than he normally would have overnight. There had been periods of time when he had been unaware of what was going on, tests run, and lots of sleep and fogginess.
Kenzie looked reluctant to answer his question, but she did anyway, not trying to keep it from him. “It’s Saturday afternoon.”
“It’s already been twenty-four hours?”
She nodded.
“And I might have to stay another night?”
“Whether you do or not, you should plan on some downtime. Don’t jump right back into things. Give your body some time to recover from this insult.”
Zachary buttoned his lip and didn’t protest, telling her he had work to do and it couldn’t wait.
A little girl’s life could hang in the balance. He couldn’t afford to take a few days off.
But Kenzie and Heather already knew that. It was clear from their exchanged glances that they already anticipated that Zachary wouldn’t wait any longer than he absolutely had to.
36
Kenzie probably knew that once Zachary realized how much time had passed while he’d been at the hospital he wasn’t going to stay another night. By the time the doctor made his rounds and talked to Zachary about his symptoms and the tests they had run, Zachary was already halfway out the door.
“I’m not going to insist that you stay,” the doctor advised, adjusting his glasses at the end of his nose as he looked down at a tablet computer, “but I want you to take it easy for a few days. You were lucky not to sustain more injuries than you did. Since Dr. Kirsch can monitor you for any increasing concussion symptoms, I’m comfortable with letting you go. But I want to hear back if there are any concerns.” He looked at Kenzie to make sure she agreed with this.
Kenzie nodded. She was probably just as eager to get home as Zachary was. He had spent most of his time in bed, either sleeping or unconscious, while she had to endure uncomfortable plastic chairs and rely on vending machine or cafeteria food.
“Well then, I’m ready to go home,” Zachary announced.
“I’ll get the nurse to prepare the discharge papers,” the doctor said with a smile. “We’ll get you on your way.”
It still took too long for his liking but, eventually, Zachary was walking out of the hospital into the brisk Vermont weather. It felt good to have the cool air on his face after the too-warm atmosphere of the hospital. He felt like he was breathing for the first time since he had arrived there. He took a few deep breaths and smiled at Kenzie, who watched him closely to ensure he was steady on his feet and everything was all right.
“I’m good,” he assured her. “All I’ve got are some cuts and scrapes—nothing broken—and a few stitches that I probably didn’t even need. I’ve dealt with much worse.”
“Yes,” Kenzie agreed, looking at him with an expression of sadness.
Zachary tried to wave it away. There was no reason to be sad or upset about his minor injuries from the explosion. And anything else that happened in the past was in the past.
Kenzie led the way to where her car was parked and they drove the first little bit in silence.
“It will be nice to get home,” Zachary told Kenzie. “Back to our own space. It’s just not the same at the hospital, no matter how comfortable they try to make it for you.”
And they rarely went out of their way to make him truly comfortable. Maybe they were afraid that if they made his hospital stay too comfortable, he would never leave. But he’d had long-term stays there before, and it wasn’t something he wished for.
Kenzie sighed. “Yes,” she agreed, though her words seemed restrained. “It’s always nice to get back home where you belong and can relax.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just that… well, the bomb. It did some damage.”
“But it’s just…” Zachary started to answer before he realized that she wasn’t talking about the damage the bomb had done to him, but to the house. Somehow, the thought hadn’t even occurred to him before then. He’d pictured the kitchen looking exactly the same as it had before the bomb had exploded. It had done only minor damage to his body, and he hadn’t considered the damage to the room around him.
“How bad is it?”
“Just minor… cosmetic. But…” She sighed. “I just don’t want to think about it. To see it. To get someone to come in and fix it up. I know it won’t take long and it could be much worse. There could be structural damage. It could be so bad that we couldn’t go back there.”
“But that doesn’t stop you from dreading seeing it.”
“Yeah. And knowing that… if the bomber had been more competent, I could have lost you. I can’t help thinking about how horrible it would have been. What it would have looked like. Felt like.”
Zachary put his hand on her leg, trying to convey his appreciation and how much he cared for her. He worried about catastrophes, too. How many times had he pictured losing Bridget or Kenzie or members of his family to some horrific accident, disease, or violence? He would hate for her to know how much time he spent worrying about catastrophes that would probably never happen.
They drove into the garage without further comment. Zachary climbed out of the car, watching Kenzie, knowing that she was dreading seeing the damage caused by the bomb on the other side of the door. He thought to offer to go in ahead of her, but wasn’t sure how that would help anything. She would still see it as soon as she stepped into the house. Even if they went in the front door instead of the door from the garage to the kitchen, she would still see the kitchen sooner or later. She had to walk past the doorway. They had to eat.
Kenzie didn’t wait for Zachary to catch up or get in front of her. She just walked determinedly toward the door and opened it without any noticeable hesitation.
Then she stopped.
It must be pretty bad. Zachary had been hoping that she was making it a bigger thing than it was.
He hurried to catch up with her. He stepped up behind her and reached out to give her a comforting hug as he viewed the damage that he had caused by being so oblivious to what was in the package he was opening. He remembered that last tug as he pulled open the flap of cardboard and the world dissolved around him. That last little hitch that had probably been a simple pull-string trigger.
37
The first thing he sensed as he stepped up to Kenzie was the almost overwhelming smell of fresh paint. He looked past Kenzie and saw gleaming white and yellow walls. There were plastic drop sheets on the floor that we speckled with paint. Someone was there in the house. He had thought Kenzie had said she didn’t want to call someone, but he must have misunderstood her.
“Are they home?” a familiar voice called out.
Kenzie stepped quickly into the kitchen so that Zachary could enter as well.
“They’re here,” another man answered.
Kenzie threw her arms around Patrick Parker and clutched him tightly.
“Hey, you’re going to get paint all over you,” Pat protested, trying to keep Kenzie’s body away from the paint that spattered his loosely fitting plaid shirt.
Lorne Peterson entered the kitchen as well and nodded at Zachary. “Welcome home.”
“When did you get here?” Zachary went to him for a hug. Mr. Peterson held him gently, mindful of the numerous small cuts.
“Yesterday,” the older man laughed. “We saw you at the hospital, but you were pretty tired. I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”
“You saw me yesterday?”
Of course, it made sense that his old foster father would be the first one Kenzie called and that he and Pat, his partner, would drop everything to drive up to see Zachary and make sure that he was okay.
“You weren’t supposed to work,” Kenzie chided, laughing. “I told you that you could stay in the guest room, not renovate the house.”
Pat shrugged, looking modest. “I needed something to do. We both wanted to do something other than worrying about how this kid was doing,” he aimed a fake punch at Zachary’s shoulder, lightly skimming the skin.
Zachary looked around the kitchen. Whatever damage the shrapnel had done to the walls had been patched, sanded, and painted over in the day since he’d exploded the package bomb. There was plastic spread over the table and, looking up at the ceiling, he could see that it too had been painted.
“I just need to finish the table,” Pat said, lifting the edge of the plastic so that Zachary could look underneath. “You got home a few hours too soon.”
Zachary could see that the table’s surface had been sanded to bare wood. There was a can of polyurethane with the paint cans on the floor.
“You shouldn’t have,” Kenzie protested, but she had a big smile on her face. She gave Pat another hug, then stepped over to Lorne and gave him one, too. It was obvious that Lorne had also been painting, presumably under Pat’s direction. Specks of paint covered his shirt, as well as his face and head. “You guys are the best.”
Lorne patted Kenzie on the back as he hugged her. “We couldn’t have you coming home to a disaster area. All it needed was a bit of touching up. We didn’t think you would want to make an insurance claim for something so minor. But I did take ‘before’ pictures if you need them.”
“Can I see?” Zachary asked.
Lorne, Pat, and Kenzie exchanged looks in response to the question. But it wasn’t an unreasonable request. Maybe they were worried that seeing the damage would traumatize Zachary further, but that was for him to decide.
