Chapter Thirty-One
Jake
As I drive past Joe Parkhurst’s house, I lift a finger in an obligatory wave while trying to come up with a plausible reason to stop at the Whitlock place without alerting the entire neighborhood about her business.
I stop at the sign. Nothing I do is secret. By now, everyone knows a baby has been left at the station, so any excuse I come up with is going to take about five minutes and a phone tree of concerned neighbors to blast it through town.
Every state is a safe haven state. I tap my fingertips on the steering wheel, but she wasn’t the one who dropped off the baby. A boy dropped off the baby.
Fuck. I ease my foot onto the gas. The last thing I want to do is cause her trouble, but if this kid took her baby, or she’s hurt, I can’t let it go.
A loud party report. I frown. That’s feasible. Here’s hoping Chad hasn’t changed his ways over the last several years. If I stop at the neighbor’s house first, my story will be more plausible.
Once I’ve secured my vehicle, I knock on Laura Barron’s door. Moments later, she greets me with a tentative smile. “Is everything okay?” Her icy blue eyes widen. “Jake Thompson?” The smile increases. “I didn’t recognize you.”
“Hello, Ms. Barron.” I grasp the edge of the screen door, holding it open. The last I knew, she worked as a baker at Jolie’s Café.
“Laura.” She tips her head toward me. “Call me, Laura.”
“Laura, I’m sorry to bother you, but we received a loud party report last night for a house in this neighborhood, but by the time we came to investigate, the party had died down, so we didn’t get an exact location.”
She frowns and tips her head toward Chad’s house. “They’ve always got something going on over there. And with that young girl in the house, it’s ridiculous.”
I brace my foot against the bottom of the door and fish my notebook out of my pocket. “Is this a regular occurrence?”
“At least two or three times a week.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
After I flip open the notebook, I jot down the information she shared. While it’s not relevant to the case, it’s good information to have for the future, and solidifies my ruse.
I ask her several additional questions and thank her for the information. “Did you say that Chad’s vehicle is gone?” I glance toward the house in question, scanning the open garage, driveway, and street. There’s a pickup in the garage, but everything else is empty.
“Yes, it should only be the sister. Troy is in jail, so he’s gone. And Chad took off in that loud car of his before daybreak.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.” I pause for a second as I step back. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, also.”
“Last I knew, you worked at Jolie’s. What’re you doing now?”
“I’m still baking Jolie’s recipes for the market. It was sad when they decided to close, but I got the best of both worlds. I bake from home,” she smiles, “and I don’t have to put up with anyone.”
“Do you make those famous triple chocolate cakes?”
“Yes, I do.” She grins with a twinkle in her eye. “That’s one of my most famous recipes.”
“Do you happen to have any lying around?” That was Emily’s favorite cake growing up. Maybe she doesn’t like it anymore, but I’m willing to bet that she’s still a fan.
“I just might. Give me a second.”
It might be stupid, but that’s what I stopped by Jolie’s to get the day everything ended. A piece of cake for Emily. A way to show her that I’d paid attention. Maybe this time, things will be different.
“Here you go.” She hands me a sack with a container inside. “Compliments of the baker.”
“Thank you.” I push back all thoughts of the cake and what I’d like to use it for. Now, it is not the time. But later? Definitely later.
We chat for a few more minutes, and then she says, “Mackenzie is a good kid, but I don’t know if she stands a chance with that boy as her role model.”
“I’ll check on her and make sure she’s okay.” I tap my hand on the doorframe and turn on my heel.
“We need more good guys in the world, like you.”
“Thank you.” I give her a quick nod and bound down the stairs. I’m not sure she’d think I was such a good guy if she knew I was lying to her face, but she served the purpose I needed.
The next person she talks to will get the story of the nice cop who followed up on a call from last night and went to check on the girl everyone in the neighborhood is worried about. That should keep people from putting two and two together and deciding that Mackenzie abandoned her baby.
After I drop the cake onto the passenger seat, I dodge the push mower lying halfway on the sidewalk while surveying the house.
The lawnmower is likely broken, or no one gives a shit that the grass is shaggy.
A busted window on the front porch is covered with plastic held on by duct tape.
The bottom edge of the tape has peeled up, leaving the plastic blowing in the wind.
The garage isn’t any better. The door is hanging by one hinge, and there’s a faint odor of cat urine wafting through the breeze. If I had to guess, Chad is making meth.
A Rottweiler jumps with his front paws, landing on the front door behind the black bars that are intended to keep people from busting into the house when all someone needs to do is climb in through the window.
The dog snaps its jowls together and barks louder until its eyes bulge out and spit flies from its mouth.
I steel my back and hold my hand on the butt of my revolver.
The last thing I want to do is put a dog down, but it’s obvious from how he’s reacting that Chad or his father has trained the animal to attack.
Before I can knock on the door, a girl of about sixteen stands next to the snarling dog. “Shut up, Loki.” She smacks the dog on the head, causing the animal to growl.
“Be careful.” My heart launches into my throat.
“He’s not as mean as he looks.” She rests her hand on the dog’s wide neck. The animal glances up at her, huffs with disapproval, and disappears into the darkened part of the house.
Mackenzie’s blonde hair is unwashed and hanging limply past her shoulders.
Her clothes are clean but threadbare–an oversized black sweatsuit.
To disguise her weight gain from pregnancy?
The last time I saw her, she had pigtails, two bucked teeth, and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
The bucked teeth are gone, and the freckles have smoothed into unblemished skin, but that doesn’t detract from how pale she is or from the fact that there are bags under her eyes that are traditionally saved for elderly people. “Chad’s not home.”
“That’s good.” I dodge a hole in the porch as one of the planks of wood creaks under my weight. “I wanted to talk to you.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “I have nothing to say.”
I lift a hand in hopes of calming her down, but it’s just as likely to have the opposite effect. “I’m not trying to cause you trouble. I stopped by the neighbor’s house first and told her we received a loud party complaint last night.”
Her jaw is tight as she glares at me. “Chad always has parties.”
“But that’s not why I stopped by. I have reason to suspect that you gave birth to a little girl and had someone drop her off at the police station this morning.
The boy in question attempted to stay out of the camera range, but we were able to make out some features that identified him as someone who’s been hanging out with you. ”
Her face is white as she clutches her throat. “It’s legal to drop off a baby in this state, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then why’re you checking into it?” The coldness in her eyes is harsh for someone her age. “If someone dropped off a baby, that must mean they don’t want it.”
“Because I wanted to make sure it was at your direction. The law makes it legal for the parents to drop off their child with no consequences, but you weren’t present.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her chin tips out in a defiant stance. “I didn’t have a baby, and it couldn’t have been Lucas dropping it off either. He’s in Kansas City.”
“We….” I trail off, not wanting to share with her that we have a partial license plate on camera that happens to be the last two numbers for the vehicle registered to him. It’s clear she’s not going to be helpful. I clear my throat, “Do you need to see a doctor?”
“No,” she bites out with enough venom to kill a lesser man. “I don’t need to see a doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’d like to ask you to leave my property and not mention this to anyone. Chad would lose his mind if he knew you were here asking these types of questions.”