The Girl With No Name

Chapter Fifty-Two

Josie had three missed calls from Carrieann and two text messages from her asking for updates. Josie replied that they had found Kim Conway at Luke’s house and taken her into custody but that she hadn’t had any pertinent information. Carrieann wanted to know what would happen now that Eric Dunn was dead and whether they could find Luke or not. Josie didn’t have the heart to go home and face her knowing that the only thing she had to offer was more questions and no answers. She typed back to Carrieann saying she was still working on finding Luke, which was sort of a lie because she had no idea where to even restart. What she did know was that Peter Rowland was lying. It was too much of a coincidence that he was the mix-up donor and that he just happened to be in town and was willing to give reward money for Victor Derossi’s safe return.

Josie had only been to Noah’s house a few times before to pick him up or drop him off when they were juggling department-issued vehicles. She’d never been inside. Now she stood on his doorstep, shifting from one foot to the other to stay warm. He lived in a small, ranch-style house with absolutely no adornments. There wasn’t even a welcome mat on the stoop. He definitely lived alone. Josie rang the doorbell for the third time. Finally, the light over the door blinked on. The door creaked open and Noah stood before her wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He’d obviously been sleeping. His thick brown hair was in disarray, his eyes heavy-lidded with fatigue. He blinked at her. “Boss?”

“I’m sorry for bothering you so late,” Josie said. “Can I come in?”

He stepped aside and let her in. She stopped when she noticed the scar tissue on his right shoulder. Even though she was the one who had given him the scar during the missing girls case, she’d never seen it before. Noah looked down at it and rubbed his fingers over top of it. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said.

“I… I’m—” Josie choked.

He laughed. “I know, I know. You’re sorry. You don’t have to say it again. Come on, come into the kitchen.”

His home was furnished with what looked like second-hand furniture. Everything about it was utilitarian. He had what he needed, and only that: an old, two-seater couch that sagged in the middle; a scuffed coffee table with only a remote on top of it; a television on a small, three-shelf entertainment center that held only a DVD player and what looked like a game system. His kitchen looked like it hadn’t been updated since the seventies. There was a small table in the center of it with two chairs. He pulled one out for her and walked over to the kitchen sink. From the cabinet above it, he pulled a can of coffee.

“I know this place isn’t much,” he said. “My mom’s always after me to do something with it, but honestly, I’m hardly ever here.”

Josie sat at the table and watched as he filled the coffee pot with water. The coffeemaker was about the only modern thing in the house. “I’m working you too hard,” she said.

He threw a smile over his shoulder. “Nah, I’m fine.” He poured water into the back of the coffeemaker and turned toward her, leaning his back against the counter. Again, Josie’s eyes were drawn to the scar. It brought to mind the scars that dotted and zigzagged Luke’s torso. Some from the gunshots themselves and some from where the doctors had opened him up. She wondered if she would ever trace her fingers over them again. Then she wondered if she would even want to—he had been lying to her and possibly cheating on her.

“What’s going on?” Noah said.

She told him about the texts from Diana Sweeney and her meeting with Rowland. Noah gave a low whistle. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither.”

“So, what are you thinking?”

“What if the reason we didn’t find the baby at the church and the reason the cradle looked unused was because Rowland has the baby?”

“Boss—”

“Just hear me out. If Misty was notified of the mix-up, doesn’t it stand to reason that Rowland was as well?”

“But they wouldn’t have violated Misty’s privacy by telling Rowland who she was, and you already said that he knew that his sperm hadn’t been destroyed. Even if he knew, why would he take the baby? What would he do with a baby? I think you’re reaching.”

He got two mugs out of another cabinet and poured steaming coffee into each one. He prepared hers exactly the way she liked it and handed it to her.

Josie said, “It’s too coincidental, though, don’t you think?”

“What? That he put up reward money for a baby that might be his? Well, it’s definitely a strange coincidence,” Noah agreed.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Josie insisted.

“Boss, we have no evidence that connects Rowland to Misty other than the sperm mix-up, and we know that the sperm bank maintained confidentiality.”

“But maybe they didn’t. I got his information.”

Noah set his own mug on the table and sat across from her. He gave her a lopsided smile. “You cheated.”

“Only because going through official channels would take too long. Diana told me their legal department takes seven to ten days to process warrants. It’s quite possible that all it would take for Rowland to get that information is a good lawyer—and I know he can afford one.”

Noah pushed his hand through his hair. “I think this is a stretch. Why would Rowland put up reward money for a baby he actually has?”

“To make himself look like he doesn’t have the baby,” Josie replied.

“Okay, so what are you saying? That Rowland snatched the baby from under Denny Twitch’s nose?”

“No,” Josie said. “Someone who works for Rowland. Maybe this Leo person.”

“Okay, in this scenario, Rowland finds out the baby could be his but instead of approaching Misty directly, he does what? Puts a man on her? To watch her? Then the baby comes, and Twitch shows up. Instead of saving Misty, he waits until Twitch beats the hell out of her and takes the baby. Then he follows Twitch and kidnaps the baby from him. Then he keeps the baby and puts up reward money for his safe return? For what? Why does Rowland want this baby so badly but is trying to hide him at the same time?”

“I don’t know,” Josie said. “That’s the part I can’t figure out. I mean he lost a child last year, maybe he sees an opportunity here.”

“Then why do something illegal? Why all these behind-the-scenes moves using hired muscle? Why not just have his lawyers contact Misty and work the whole thing out that way?”

Josie gave a frustrated sigh. Noah was right. It didn’t make sense.

“Boss, has it occurred to you that maybe you want Misty’s baby to be alive so badly that you’re latching on to Rowland as a suspect?”

She swallowed, looking away from him. Pulling her coffee closer, she cupped both hands around it. “Okay,” she said. “That’s fair. I couldn’t save Luke, I couldn’t find Misty’s baby. The baby could be Ray’s. Ray was my husband. I see what you’re saying.”

“Do you?”

She met his eyes again. “I do. I promise you, I understand where you’re coming from.”

Noah smiled. “But?”

“But my instincts are rarely wrong. I want to get into Rowland’s house.”

To his credit, Noah didn’t miss a beat at all. He said, “Well, the only way to do that is to get a judge to sign a warrant based on the fact that Rowland’s sperm donation was mixed up with Ray’s—information you don’t officially have, remember—and that’s probably not going to do it.”

“Noah, what if he has that baby?”

“A man like Peter Rowland wouldn’t have any reason to kidnap a baby—especially if he thought it was his. Even if he didn’t want the sperm donor thing getting out, he could have just approached Misty privately and worked something out with her. I’m sure he has enough money to keep her quiet.”

“Maybe he was afraid she’d blackmail him. He doesn’t know her well enough to know she wouldn’t do that. I don’t even know her well enough to know she wouldn’t blackmail him.”

Noah shook his head. “You’re missing the point here. People like Peter Rowland don’t need thug tactics. He’s not Eric Dunn. Dunn wielded his wealth and power like a club, smashing everyone that got in his way. Rowland is a known philanthropist. A do-gooder. He sits on the boards of a bunch of corporations and charitable institutions. He downplays his wealth. The guy is a thousand times richer and more successful than Dunn ever would have been. You said yourself he doesn’t even have a bodyguard. Rowland is not the type of guy who would handle things with a hired goon. He’d take care of things in a courtroom or with contracts and non-disclosure agreements and payouts.”

Josie couldn’t deny that Noah’s assessment of Peter Rowland seemed spot-on, given what she knew about the man.

“Listen,” Noah continued. “You’re upset about what happened at the Flats today. You’re sleep-deprived. Everything is fucked right now. The best thing you can do is go home, get some sleep, and come back at this in the morning.”

“Are you dismissing me?”

He laughed. “The last time I dismissed you, you shot me. What do you think?”

Josie blushed. She opened her mouth to say she was sorry again but clamped it shut instead. Noah leaned forward, reached across the table, and lightly touched her hand. “Boss,” he said. “Just get a few hours of sleep, okay? That’s all I’m asking. You can even stay here, sleep on my couch, and in the morning, we’ll figure out where to go from here.”

Josie took a long sip of coffee and pushed the mug back toward Noah. “Thank you,” she said.

He walked her to the living room and watched her curl up on the couch. “I’ll go get you a blanket,” he told her.

She was drifting to sleep before he even returned with it. He laid the blanket over her. Without opening her eyes, she mumbled, “Noah. Rowland has a housekeeper. Maybe we can get to her?”

She heard his soft chuckle and felt his hand squeeze her shoulder. “Tomorrow, boss. We’ll talk tomorrow.”