Lullabies and Lies - By Mallory Kane Page 0,68
was afraid to stop looking.
“You don’t have much time,” Jane said.
But Sunny barely heard her. Her attention was on something she’d just glimpsed in the bottom of the far right drawer, behind a row of files. She bent over and reached into the depths of the drawer. Her fingers touched fine-grained leather.
Her pulse drummed in her temple. It was a pocketsize journal. Was this the book?
She dug out a handful of files and sat them on top of the desk, alongside a mountain of papers.
She wanted to grab the journal, shove it in Jane’s face and demand to see Emily.
But Jane was a liar. As soon as she had the book, she’d kill Sunny.
“Did you hear what I said?”
Sunny composed her face before she looked over her shoulder. “Yes. This is the last drawer.”
Jane dropped a cigarette and crushed it on the hardwood floor. “That’s it. You’re useless. Get up.”
“But I’m almost done. It could be in here. Give me a few more minutes, please.”
Jane lifted the gun. “I said—” She stopped and cocked her head. She’d heard something.
Sunny tensed, trying to hear what Jane had heard.
Was it Griff? A fierce, burning hope blossomed in her chest. She hadn’t dared to believe he’d find her in time. It was hard enough sustaining the faint hope that she would see Emily again.
She’d told herself it was enough that he’d been there for her when she’d needed his strength. That he’d allowed her to use him for safety and shelter. For love.
Before she had time to explore her thought, she heard the rattle of keys. Someone was unlocking the back door.
Jane crossed the living room in two strides and flattened herself against the wall between the living room and dining room, her attention focused on the footsteps coming toward them.
Sunny bent slightly, holding her breath and praying that the chair wouldn’t creak. She managed to grasp the leather journal with two fingers. She lifted it slowly, never taking her eyes off Jane. When she shifted to slide it into the pocket of her slacks, the wheels squawked loudly.
Jane turned the gun on her for an instant, a hard glint in her eyes.
The message was clear. Stay put or you’re dead.
Sunny swallowed, then nodded.
GRIFF AND SPARKS, along with several backup black-and-whites, headed toward Bess’s house.
Sparks had just hung up from talking to the New Rochelle police, and Griff was on the phone to Natasha, who had been in touch with the photo-analyst.
“Hart said he couldn’t positively identify Jane Gross from your photograph,” Natasha said. “But he did say he could state under oath that the facial characteristics, build and other identifying features were consistent with hers. He also said the woman in your photo does have a deformity of her left hand.”
“Can you verify that Jane Gross has a similar problem?”
“Already done. We have eyewitness testimony from people who know her. And her fingerprints are on file, because of her husband’s campaign.”
“What about the husband?”
“He’s cooperating with the New Rochelle police. He is adamant that his wife is visiting her mother in Springfield.”
“Yeah?”
“Mrs. Roe is in a nursing home, paid for by her daughter. The daughter hasn’t visited her in over two years. Jane’s been lying to hubby.”
“What about Bess Raymond? And her daughter?”
“Right. Adopted. I found the records. The papers were drawn up by a Hiram Cogburn, and executed by a lawyer in Philadelphia. Mia Raymond was supposedly a foundling. Her birth certificate was created after the fact.”
“We’re almost there,” Sparks said.
“Okay, Natasha. Thanks.”
“Griff, Ed Gross said there’s a town meeting tonight. Jane promised him she’d be there.”
“What time?”
“Seven o’clock. He said she’s never missed a political event. She’s always by his side.”
“Thanks.” Griff disconnected. “We’ve got a problem,” he told Sparks. “Jane is due back in New Rochelle by seven o’clock.”
“That’s a good hour and a half drive.”
Griff looked at his watch and cursed. “It’s five now.”
Sunny. God he hoped he wasn’t too late. According to Bess, the book she asked Mia to retrieve was a journal. It contained evidence of all the children Jane had stolen and brought to Bess to care for over the years.
He was gambling everything that Jane had kidnapped Sunny, and had brought her to Bess’s house to find the book. If he was wrong, he’d just condemned her and her daughter to death.
“Don’t approach the place directly. Park on the next street where the cigarette butts were found, and walk through the common area. If anyone is at the house I don’t want to alert