If Angels Fall

THIRTY-SIX

Why? Why?Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Nancy Nunn was overwhelmed. Where was Gabrielle? Whatwas he doing to her? Oh God. Please watch over her.

All my fault. It’s all my fault. Why wasn’t Iwatching her? What was he going to do to her? OhGod, would she ever see her again? Golden Gate Park. That’s where they foundthe baby girl last year. Murdered. Oh God. The accusing eyes of the carouselhorses.

I’m okay Mom, I’m just waiting at the door.

The man was a Caucasian, late forties to mid-fifties.He had a full beard, bushy blondish hair, medium build, about 170–190 pounds,six feet to six feet, two inches tall. Beth Ferguson estimated as she worked ina nose, ears, and mouth that might match those of the man the teens had seen.He wore a long-sleeve shirt; the girls couldn’t see any tattoos. They keptrepeating, reciting details. Nancy and Paul sat with them, studying the sketch,struggling to remember if they had ever encountered the man who took Gabrielle.Nancy prayed.

God please help me. Please don’t harm her. She’s justa little girl, an innocent little girl. We should be looking for her. My childhas been abducted. Why didn’t the world stand still? Why wasn’t everyonelooking for her? I have to find her-

Nancy bolted to the hall, where she was stopped by thethrong of detectives leaving the conference room, running square into one ofthem. He was calm, compassionate. She felt his large, strong hands steady hershoulders gently. He smelled of a trace of Old Spice. Nancy’s father wore OldSpice. The hall fell silent except for Nancy’s sobbing as she looked up at thedetective, her voice breaking.

“Bring her home to me. Please bring her home to me.”

Sydowski’s blue eyes watered with understanding. Heknew her suffering-he would carry it with him as a crusader carries an amulet.It was his solemn promise. She read it in his face, the face of a good man. Heembodied her hope. Her only hope.

“I promise you, Mrs. Nunn, we will do everything wecan on this earth to find Gabrielle.”

Tears rolled down Nancy’s face as her husband took herin his arms, comforting her. “If he asks for money, we will pay it.” Paul Nunnsaid. “Whatever he asks for. We’ll sell the house.”

Sydowski nodded.

Two other detectives ushered the Nunns away for morequestioning before taking them home.

Turgeon and Sydowski said nothing in the elevator orduring the walk to the car. Nothing anyone could say would be worth a damn.They were alone with their thoughts and the case. Turgeon started the Caprice,had slipped the transmission into reverse when Gord Mikelson ran up to them.

“CHiPS just locked on to a truck, could be our guy.”

“What?”

“Bearded man driving a battered pickup with a girlabout six or seven wearing a dress. They have a dog in the cab. Near thePresidio, northbound towards the bridge. CHiPS bird has got him and MarinCounty’s rolling. The guy hasn’t made us yet!”

“Punch it, Linda!” Sydowski switched on the policeradio.

The Chevy roared, leaving fifty feet of smolderingrubber at the hall, emergency lights wigwagging and siren screaming.