“She’s high,” Bree said. “Unbelievable. Two days here and she’s using again.”
I tried to step in before Bree’s or Nana’s temper got us into trouble.
“We can help, if you’ll let us,” I said. “How about if we wait for her?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Visiting hours are over at seven, and she won’t be back until later. You should really call first.”
There didn’t seem to be anything more we could do. For a minute we all just stood there, not wanting to leave. It was incredibly disappointing.
“Well, you give her this,” Nana said between clenched teeth. She handed over the tin she’d brought, filled with her homemade brownies and Ava’s favorite butterscotch candies. “I want every single one of those to get to Ava. Do you understand?”
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ll make sure she gets them.”
“Hey, lady, what’s that?” someone called out from the living room. “Something good?”
“Shee-it, nobody be bringing me nothing. Who those people here to see, anyway?”
Nana looked over her shoulder. “You watch your mouth, young lady,” she said. Then she reached over and took the tin out of the manager’s hands. “I changed my mind. We’ll bring these tomorrow,” she said.
The manager was doing her best, she really was. I don’t know anyone in the child welfare system who isn’t overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated.
Still, as we left the house, I’m pretty sure all three of us were thinking the same thing. If Ava was going to have any kind of chance, we had to get her out of there.
CHAPTER
73
MY THIRD DAY OF DESK DUTY WENT PRETTY MUCH THE SAME AS THE FIRST two. I was starting to feel like some kid stuck with an in-school suspension.
Then, late in the afternoon, another call came in.
“Homicide,” I answered, for the hundredth time that day.
“Yes, hello, this is Detective Penner from Palm Beach Police down here in Florida. I’m looking for Detective Cross.”
“You’ve got him,” I said. I’ve done a fair amount of collaborating with departments all around the country. It’s not so unusual to get a call like this. My guess was that he wanted some kind of consult.
“First of all, can I just say I’m a fan of your book?” Detective Penner told me. “I’m hoping you’re going to write something else one of these days.”
“Sure, in my spare time,” I deadpanned. “How can I help you?”
“We’ve got a double homicide investigation going on down here, from two nights ago. It’s a husband and wife, with all indications of a simple robbery. The reason I’m calling is we just heard from the caretaker at the house next door to this one. Looks like it was hit, too, when no one was home.”
“And you’re calling me because . . .”
“I’m having a hard time locating the owner of that second house. As it turns out, this guy is someone you arrested a while back. A doctor by the name of Elijah Creem. Ring any bells?”
It sure did. There was no forgetting that name, just for the name’s sake. But beyond that, the night of Creem’s little underage sex party, and the bust we ran, was pretty hard to forget.
He’d also made a few headlines in the meantime. They’d been calling him Dr. Creep in the rags. I was pretty sure he and his friend, Bergman, had a trial coming up, where Sampson was going to be testifying.
“I was wondering if you might be able to send someone over to see if Dr. Creem is home, or even in town,” Penner said. “He hasn’t been answering any calls.”
“Is he a suspect?” I said. The guy was such scum, I was prepared to believe anything about him.
“Depends on where he was two nights ago,” Penner said. “At a minimum, I need to notify him of the robbery and ask a few questions.”
Technically, it was a breach of my noncontact status to start interacting with the public. But everyone else was flat out, and truth be told, some part of me wanted to see how far this guy had fallen since the night I put the cuffs on him. If it turned into anything, I’d pass it on to Sampson. He worked out of Second District, where Creem lived, anyway.