Stealing Time

CHAPTER 13

G

ood job, Woody, April thought as they left Anton's office. She was truly elated that the new kid she'd claimed as her own could actually think well on his feet. His free hand rubbed at his short hair as they walked down the hall to the elevator. He pushed the Down button and refrained from asking her if he'd done all right. He knew he had. She didn't look at him when the door slid open and they got inside. She didn't look at him as they went down.

Out on the street she told him, "I only let you do the talking because his wife is Chinese."

Grinning, he unlocked the car door. "Yeah, I kind of got the feeling there was some hostility there. So I went for it. When you didn't shut me up, I figured it was what you wanted." He punched the air. He was

good,

yeah!

"Transference," April murmured.

"What's that?" He cocked his hand to his ear before getting into the car and reaching over to unlock the passenger side for April.

April opened the door and climbed in. "This guy's mad at his Chinese wife; I'm Chinese, so he hates me. You could see it in his eyes." She slammed the door. They were heading for Roosevelt Hospital to have another crack at Heather Rose.

"Oh, that's deep. Transference, huh? And here I thought the hostility was because you're a cop, and you're trying to nail him."

"Yeah, Woody,

could

be that, or he could hate women. But I think it's because I'm Chinese."

"Maybe you're making too much of it." Woody gunned the engine and pulled out into the street without looking.

"Jesus, watch where you're going!"

"That fucker did it. His prints were on the broom."

April clicked her tongue. "Yeah? So, it's his house, his broom. When did the prints get there? Could have gotten there last week or last year."

"This jerko doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who regularly sweeps up after dinner."

"Prove he never touched the broom until yesterday; then I'll be impressed."

"It's him. He hit her. He took the baby."

"The baby was gone when we got there. What did he do with it?"

"So, it's a detail," Woody admitted.

"Come on, think. If he's protecting someone, who is it?"

"Himself. His prints are on the broom." Woody was back on the broom.

"Well, I can see other scenarios. A lot of them. What if the other woman showed up and told Heather Rose the baby's hers, she had it with

her

husband. The woman walked out with the baby. When hubby came home Heather confronted him. He beat her up."

"The woman takes the elevator from another floor," Woody embellished.

"The doorman would have seen her come up or go down. No one saw the baby go out. Try again."

"He knows where the baby is." Woody turned on the radio, listened to the dispatcher for a moment. Just a lot of static. Nothing new. He turned it off.

"I get the feeling he doesn't." April checked her watch. "We have to nail this today."

"I really got him going, didn't I? I thought he was going to pee in his pants over the FBI."

"Telling him she might die was a nice touch. I liked that. Let's hope we do better with her this time."

Woody parked in his usual no-parking zone in front of the hospital and locked up the car again. A few minutes later, they were upstairs, looking through the window into the room where Heather lay tucked up in her bed with her good eye half open. "Any change?" April asked.

The patrolman outside the room shook his head.

"Can I come in this time?" Woody asked.

April shook her head, entered Heather's room, and closed the door behind her. "Hi. It's April Woo," she said softly.

Some of Heather Rose's bruises were black. Some were purple and others yellowing. Her long inky hair lay in two loops on the pillow at either side of her face, like two nesting animals. The open eye didn't move as April stepped into her view, but April had an eerie feeling it was watching her. She took a step closer. Heather's arms were outside the sheet. Right below the elbow were several perfectly round scars that looked like bum marks. An IV was stuck in the top of her hand. April reached out and touched the hand. "You got beaten up pretty bad. Can you hear me?"

Heather's good eye didn't flicker.

"How are you feeling?" Stupid question.

April tried Chinese again. "M

hao? Wo shi

Sergeant

Siyue Woo."

Nothing.

April muttered on in Chinese. Heather's parents spoke Chinese, so it had to be the language of Heather's infancy. "

Wo shi

Sergeant

Woo."

I'm Sergeant Woo.

"Shi zenme le?"

April continued to stroke Heather's hand. The hand was cool and lifeless. " 'Heather Rose' is beautiful, but it's a mouthful. What's your Chinese name?" she asked in Chinese.

"Chouchong

," Heather's eyelid was hanging at half-mast; under it her eye was dead as a fisheye. The word seemed to come from behind her. April looked around. No one.

"Come on," April urged her. "Come back, I need you."

"Tien na!"

The mouth didn't move. The sound came from the ceiling. Oh, no.

"You can hear me, can't you? You're okay now," April whispered back into the ether. "Come on, wake up." Heather had long slender fingers, and her hands would have been beautiful if the nails and cuticles and flesh at the sides of the nails hadn't been chewed and bitten to the quick. April stroked and squeezed the hand, got nothing back.

"Chouchong

." The eyelid hung at less than half mast.

"Wake up, Heather."

The next sound came from outside the window. It was a baby's cry. April's heart stopped as she listened. The sound came again. Now her heart was pounding.

"Come on, Heather. Don't go spooky on me. You're the only one who knows who did this. Wake up."

The patient looked dead, but the cry continued. Nothing April tried could make it stop. The baby's cry sounded as if it came from somewhere else. Finally April let go of the hand. More scary sounds and words filled her ears before April left the room. All Heather had told her of real significance was that her name was Insect. April's own mother called her Worm. They must be sisters. The rest was too frightening to think about. Shaken to the core, she hurried down the hall toward the elevator. Woody ran to catch up.