Secrets of the Rose. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ always arrived at work in the early hours—that was nothing new. But going into her office without calling to ask—that was unusual. Still, she’d called him last night, told him about Aimee. Maybe he’d had an idea to help. She glanced down.

      “Who would send me something via Finders?” she murmured, turning the envelope over and over. There was no return address, no markings of any kind, other than the scribbled letters of her name. “I haven’t been in my office in months.”

      “Which is why I don’t think it came through the mail. There’s no postage, for one thing. And Joanie knows to route all your stuff here.”

      Daniel often neglected to eat, so that his body had learned to run on adrenaline. Shelby recognized the telltale signs from his glittering eyes and knew adrenaline was pouring through his veins now. He shifted from one foot to the other, shoved his hands into his pockets, then reversed his action and dangled them at his sides. Finally he clasped them behind his back. His amber eyes, framed by the narrow black glasses he’d begun wearing lately, honed in on the envelope like a missile locked on target.

      “Could it be important?”

      Shelby shrugged, glanced at Natalie for direction. But the stylishly competent officer seemed confused by her scrutiny of Tim.

      “Natalie? Am I supposed to open it, or wait for fingerprints, or what?” Shelby prodded.

      Natalie metamorphosed as she straightened her shoulders, the in-charge persona firmly back in place.

      “I suspect Daniel’s prints, and yours, have already obscured whatever was on it, and that whoever sent this was very careful not to leave a trace, but we’ll try all the same.” She drew two surgical gloves from her pocket. “Let me open it.”

      Shelby had to force herself to hand it over. She wanted to rip the envelope open and examine its contents. One part of her warned that they were probably nothing. The other part of her wanted desperately to believe that something inside that thick brown paper would lead them straight to her daughter.

      Natalie examined the envelope in minute detail.

      “Too thin to be a bomb,” Tim told her, his voice quiet.

      Natalie quirked an eyebrow at him. Shelby saw the flash of sparks, knew that neither completely trusted the other. It was odd, really. Tim was usually so easygoing.

      “And you know this because…?”

      “I’ve read up on it. I had to do some research.” His chin thrust out in a belligerent jut meant to resist her attitude. “I do a lot of research. It’s crucial to my work.”

      Shelby ignored the scowl. “You read about bombs to write children’s books?” Now she was curious about her unusual neighbor.

      “Can we just open it?” Daniel had obviously lost patience. He reached out as if to wrest the envelope from Natalie.

      “Sure. But I’ll do it out here.” With one lithe twist, Natalie moved out of his reach, strode to a patch of grass, fifty feet from the house. “Ready?” She slit the package, turned it upside down.

      Something small and gold slipped onto the grass. Something very familiar.

      Shelby flopped onto the grass, reached out to gather Aimee’s locket into her hands.

      “Don’t touch it!”

      The warning came from two sets of lips. Tim looked chagrined, Natalie furious. He stood silent as the cop grabbed the radio from her belt and called headquarters to request a fingerprint technician. That done, she pulled off one glove, handed the locket to Shelby and told her to look inside.

      She didn’t have to look, of course. She knew that locket, had helped Grant choose it for their daughter’s fourth birthday. The tiny scrolled lettering in the heart on the front read Aimee. Inside were two pictures, hers and Grant’s. But there was also a slip of paper, much like the one found inside fortune cookies.

      “There’s something here,” she mumbled, unnecessarily as it happened, for the others were already gathered around her, watching.

      “Finders, Inc.?” Daniel scowled at the name on the paper. “Someone’s playing a trick We didn’t take her.”

      “Finders, Inc. That’s the name of your business, right? And they took the trouble to print it and stick it inside the necklace.” Natalie pinched the paper between two gloved fingers and turned it over. The same words appeared on the back. Finders, Inc.

      “Yes.” Shelby was just as puzzled as Daniel, but she picked up on the speculative tone of Natalie’s voice. “Why, I wonder?”

      “Look inside the envelope. Maybe there’s something else.” Tim squatted beside her, his face inscrutable as he watched the way Natalie carefully examined the interior. “There’s a note.”

      “I can see that, Mr. Austen.”

      Everyone’s attention focused on the envelope as a slip of paper fell out. Shelby stared at the sprawl of childish letters across notepaper with the Finders logo printed across the top.

      Aimee is safe. Don’t worry.

      “Don’t worry?” Shelby snorted. “As if!” She watched Natalie turn the paper over, scrutinize the back. “Why is this written on company stationery?”

      “Exactly my question. This handwriting looks like a child’s.”

      “It’s not Aimee’s. She always makes the A in her name very decorative.”

      Natalie’s intense inspection seemed completed. She replaced the paper in the envelope and put both it and the locket in a plastic bag she had pulled from her pocket, then looked at Shelby. “I think we’d better begin investigating your company, Mrs. Kincaid.”

      “Us?” Daniel shook his head. “But why? What possible reason could one of our employees have for taking her child? We return things, we don’t steal them.”

      “Can you tell me who else would have access to your letterhead, your company notepaper? The general public?”

      Flustered, Daniel opened his mouth, closed it, then finally spoke. “N-no. But—”

      “Actually, a number of people could have found a sheet of it.” Shelby rose. “I have several pads of that very notepaper in the house. I know there’s a pad on Grant’s—that is, the desk in the study. And probably one by the phone in the kitchen, as well.” She offered an apologetic smile. “I used to scribble notes to myself on them and I often carried a pad home with me. There must be a number of them around. Whoever took Aimee could have easily taken a single sheet, or a whole pad, for that matter—if they’d been in this house before. And they must have, to get in so easily. Don’t you think?”

      “This case is a puzzle within a puzzle.” Natalie’s epithet was terse and short, spat out in a whorl of frustration. “No apparent motive, no ransom note or call, no tracks. No fingerprints. No clues until today, and now this one is tainted.”

      Then, as if suddenly aware that she had an audience, she straightened, called over a waiting technician and handed him the evidence.

СКАЧАТЬ