Worst Case (Michael Bennett 3)

She spoke to Donald Dunning and his wife briefly in the foyer before stepping into the study.

“Emily Parker,” she said, offering her hand. She had a slight southern or maybe midwestern accent. “Mike Bennett, is it? I can see by your surprise that no one told you I was coming. Of course not. My boss is calling your boss or something.

“I know you guys are as good as we are. I’m not here in any way to take the case away from you. Just here to coordinate resources you guys might not have, get you on the front of the line for databases and such. This is odd, I know, to come all the way up from Washington and—”

“Wait, what?” I said. “From Washington? Why didn’t they just send someone from Twenty-six Fed?”

“Because I wanted the best,” Donald Dunning said, coming in behind her. “You solved two. That’s what Freddy told me. You got two kidnapped kids back safely.”

“It was actually three, but yes.”

Okay, now I saw where this was going. Dunning was flexing his considerable muscle, using his juice to pull out all the stops.

He obviously didn’t realize the strange kind of animal that an investigation in New York City is. I’m sure Homecoming Queen Emily Parker kicked ass out in those big square states where they didn’t have things like subways and Brooklyn and eight million people. The NYPD, despite its gruff demeanor, Bugs Bunny accent, and lack of executive hair, was the investigative equal of any law enforcement agency, especially when in its own backyard.

But I knew if I made some kind of jurisdictional stink, the Feds could invoke the Federal Kidnapping Statute and actually take over the case.

Instead of ranting and raving, I stood there politely holding my tongue and keeping a stiff smile.

Chapter 7

“MR. DUNNING, I’D like to speak to you and your wife further in a moment,” Agent Parker said. Her demeanor was the perfect mix of directness and caring. “I just need to go over a few things with Detective Bennett first. Will you be in the kitchen?”

“Oh, of course,” Dunning mumbled before leaving the study.

That was about as polite a “get lost” as I’d ever seen. I was impressed. Maybe Agent Parker had some chops after all.

She closed the French doors tightly behind him.

“Did you check out the Dunnings for any domestic violence complaints or criminal records?” she said.

I saw where she was going. It had to be verified from the start that it was, in fact, a stranger kidnapping and not a cover-up for a murder or something else. Step one was ruling out the family. I was way ahead of her.

“Both clean,” I said, nodding. “We’re still checking out the staff. How did the Dunnings’ demeanor seem to you? About right?”

“The mom seems to be in a dissociative fugue, and the father looks like he’s just chugged a quart of battery acid,” Parker said with a shrug. “In this case, both typical responses. You want me to toss their name at the White Collar Squad just in case? Can’t hurt to check out any recent debt or insurance activity. We could even look up psychiatric history, if any.”

Wow, I thought. Talk about trusting no one and nothing. I liked that in a cop.

“Do it,” I said.

She took a pad from her briefcase and scribbled on it.

“Any witnesses to the abduction?” Parker said.

“None,” I said. “A girl in one of his classes has Jacob leaving some shithole in Alphabet City at one o’clock in the morning Saturday.”

“Alphabet City?” Parker said.

“A neighborhood near his school,” Detective Schultz piped in.

“A skanky one,” added Ramirez.

“Go on,” she said with a nod.

“We’re thinking he was grabbed right then because by the look of things, Jacob never made it back to his dorm room,” I said. “We already interviewed his roommate and tossed the building. Nothing. If he went on a trip, he forgot to tell everyone he knows.”

I handed her the rough copy of the victimology report I’d already done, along with a current photograph.