12th of Never (Women's Murder Club 12)
He shushed me and held me and walked me back to the waiting room, where we sat with three other sets of parents who were nearly paralyzed with fear.
We were all strangers to each other, yet drawn together like people in a lifeboat, watching as the ocean liner goes down.
And then a doctor left the NICU and came toward us.
He stood in the alcove, pulled down his mask, and looked around. I didn’t know him.
But still, his eyes locked on mine.
Chapter 65
THE ICU DOCTOR was looking straight at me when he said, “Are Scott Riley’s parents here?”
The young woman sitting next to me, the mom who had knitted the outfit for her son, stood up and said, “I’m Scotty’s mom. Is there a problem, Doctor?”
“Let’s walk a little,” he said.
I watched them go out into the hallway. I was afraid for Scott’s mother, hoping that the doctor would tell her that her baby was out of danger. But Mrs. Riley screamed, her voice echoing in the hallway.
“Nooo, no, no. It can’t be. I just saw him this morning and he was fine.”
Mr. Riley ran toward his wife, who had dropped to her knees and was rocking herself as she sobbed. Scott’s father said to the doctor, “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before. Maybe you’ve mixed up the babies. I know Scotty is going to be fine.”
Nurses swarmed into the hallway and helped Mrs. Riley to her feet, tried to walk her out of the public space.
My heart broke for the Rileys, and their fear reignited mine. It was like lighting a match in a gas-filled room. I felt that I could explode.
Maybe the babies had been mixed up.
Joe put his arms around me and I folded myself into his embrace. I said to Joe, “Scotty was a preemie. Julie is a big girl. She’ll be okay. Won’t she, Joe?”
The head nurse came out to the hallway and was walking toward the end of the corridor when Joe and I got out of our seats and boxed her in.
I said, “We’re Julie Molinari’s parents. Have you seen her? Do you know how she’s doing?”
The nurse put her hand on my arm and told us that our baby was sleeping, that all her vital signs were normal. I thanked the nurse. I overthanked her. I just felt so damned grateful.
“I’d like to hold her now, if that’s okay.”
Joe said, “Honey, never wake a sleeping child.”
We went back to the waiting room, held hands, and took turns pacing for another hour before Joe said, “Sweetheart, you’re making yourself crazy. I’m here for Julie. I’m not going anywhere, and besides, she’s sleeping soundly. Didn’t you tell me there’s someplace you’re supposed to be?”
Chapter 66
I DROVE FOR two hours, some of that time wishing my eyes had windshield wipers. I pulled myself together about the time I saw the guard towers and the razor wire of the Atwater penitentiary. I parked in the law enforcement lot, combed my hair, and put on lipstick so that I looked like I had some game.
I showed my badge thirty times before being shown to Warden Haight’s corner office overlooking the yard. FBI big cheese Ron Parker joined us, and we talked about the psycho we were taking for a day trip and how dangerous he was.
The warden took a call, then said that Fish was ready for transport to his “playground.” All I had to do was say hello to Fish so he knew that I was on board.
Parker and I walked through the loud, labyrinthine prison corridors out to the lot inside the north gate. The transport vehicle was a black armored van with a steel grille between the front seat and the rear cargo area, where Pretty Boy Fish was flanked by armed guards and shackled to an iron loop in the floor.
Fish smiled when he saw me. It was a great smile, seemingly genuine. The killer was a charmer. With a different mind-set, he could have been a talk show host or a real estate broker dealing in upmarket homes.
“It’s a wonderful day for a treasure hunt,” said Randolph Fish. “I think I know where we might find Sandra Brody.”
We pulled out of the prison yard caravan-style. A pair of motorcycle cops took the lead, then came Fish’s transport van. More cops on bikes followed, then the red van with the hounds. Parker’s government-issue SUV was next, and I brought up the rear in my geriatric blue Explorer.