The Night Stalker

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I followed Sally to a Cracker Barrel near the turnpike, and we got a booth. After our waitress delivered our coffee, Sally spoke up.

“I never ate at a Cracker Barrel until you told me about the waitress who helped you find that missing little girl. Then I started eating at them, and decided I like the food.”

There were fifty-four Cracker Barrel restaurants in Florida, and all of them were located near major highways. Whenever a child had gone missing in Broward and a vehicle had been involved, I’d sent a Be on the Lookout e-mail to every Cracker Barrel. The BOLO had included the child’s photo and physical description, plus a description of the abductor if one was available. The waiters and waitresses had spotted so many missing kids in their restaurants that it had become standard procedure.

“Are you still seeing Ralph?” I asked.

Sally rolled her eyes. “What day is it? Friday? Yes, I’m still seeing Ralph. Ask me tomorrow, and you’ll probably get a different answer.”

“The last time we talked, it sounded like you guys were getting serious.”

“That’s an understatement. Ralph asked me to marry him.”

When Sally had lived in Fort Lauderdale, she’d dated an assortment of guys, with each one being a bigger loser than the last. I’d been hearing about Ralph the subcontractor for a while, and had been rooting for it to work out.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

“I told him I wasn’t ready for marriage.”

“How did he take it?”

“About as well as you are. Stop looking at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m the Wicked Witch of the West. His proposal took me by surprise. I told him I wanted to think about it. We didn’t have a fight.”

I blew on my coffee. “Did he give you a ring?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay?”

“Did he?”

Sally balled up her napkin and threw it at my head. “Damn it, Jack, you’re like a flipping dog with a bone. Let it go. Okay?”

It was well known that men didn’t understand women. What wasn’t as well known was that women didn’t understand men. I leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “The hardest thing I ever did was ask Rose to marry me. It took me an entire week to gather up the nerve. When I gave her the ring, she started crying. I thought she was upset with me, and I nearly threw up. Thank God she said yes.”

Sally drew back in her seat. “What are you telling me? That I wounded Ralph, and destroyed our relationship?”

“I’m just telling you how he feels. How you deal with it is up to you.”

We finished our drinks and settled the check. I followed Sally to the parking lot and watched her smoke a cigarette.

“So what should I do?” she asked. “Cook him a fabulous dinner and sleep with him?”

I put my hand over my mouth to stop the laughter. Sally punched me in the shoulder so hard I nearly hit the pavement.

“It’s not funny, Jack. What should I do?”

“Go home, go to bed, turn off the lights, stare into the darkness, and listen to your heart,” I said.

“Where did that come from?”

“My grandmother told me that. It was her solution to all of life’s great problems.”

“Does it work?”

“It works better than anything else I’ve tried.”

Sally ground her cigarette into the pavement. I wasn’t ready for the long embrace, or the smooch that came with it.

“Sometimes the strangest things come out of your mouth,” she said.

I drove south on the turnpike while punching Burrell’s number into my cell phone. Burrell hadn’t had much to cheer about lately, and I wanted to share the lead I’d gotten from Tim Small.

“Hello, Jack.” Her voice was flat and dead.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m having the day from hell,” Burrell said. “A sick newborn was abducted from Broward General Medical Center this morning. Chip Wells with Action Eleven News found out, and got on the air and called Fort Lauderdale the missing kids capital of the United States. The chief has made me drop everything to find this baby. Every detective in Missing Persons is looking for him.”

“Who’s handling the excavation at the landfill?” I asked.

“Whitley has taken over.”

“Who’s looking for Sampson Grimes?”

Burrell paused. “No one right now. I’m sorry, Jack, but you know how things work.”

I punched the dashboard in anger. Chip Wells was one of the reasons I was no longer on the force. He’d written untrue things about me that had helped destroy my career while advancing his own, and I could see him doing the same thing to Burrell.

“I can find your sick baby,” I said.

“You can?”

“Yes. I handled three sick baby abductions when I ran Missing Persons. The abductors were identical. I’m willing to bet yours is as well.”

“You think so? Describe the abductor.”

“Your abductor is female, between the ages of twenty and forty-five, overweight, and was posing in the maternity ward as a nurse.”

Burrell gasped. “Jesus Christ. You just described our prime suspect.”

“Thank you very much.”

“Stop being a jerk. Is she violent?”

“No, but she is delusional. This is not your normal child abduction.”

“How do you know that, Jack? How can you be so certain?”

“Because the baby was sick,” I said.

“Is that the clincher?”

“Yes. It tells you everything you need to know. I’ll help you find the baby, but I want something in return.”

“Name it.”

“Sally Haskell’s guy pulled through. The drug enforcers who are holding Sampson Grimes are keeping him in an Armwood Guest Suite Hotel in Fort Lauderdale. The hotel is old and run-down, and probably isn’t being used as a hotel anymore. If you’ll assign the detectives from Missing Persons to track down all the Armwood hotels, I’ll find this kid.”

I heard Burrell breathing heavily into the phone.

“Why do I feel like I’m being blackmailed?” she asked.

“Because you are,” I said.