he said picking up a hypodermic needle from the metal tray table beside him, and holding that needle aloft, flicking the tip with one finger. ‘This will just be like going to sleep.’
THIRTY-THREE
Alex Ortega looked down at the awkward-looking teenager who had answered the door. ‘Molly?’ he asked. ‘Yes,’ said Molly frowning.
‘Is your mother at home?’
‘Yes. She’s at home,’ said Molly.
‘Can you get her for me?’
Molly nodded and disappeared. A minute later she was back. ‘She’ll be here in a minute.’
‘Molly, you might want to go out to the squad car out there. There’s somebody in that car who wants to see you.’
‘Who?’ asked Molly suspiciously.
‘Your dad. He’s kind of banged up, but he came along for the ride.’
‘Really?’ Molly took off down the walk through the gardens of the bewitching front lawn. When she was almost to the car, she stopped, and looked back suspiciously at the detective.
The rear window of the car rolled down, and Rob looked out. ‘Molly,’ he called out anxiously.
‘Dad!’ Molly rushed over to the car, just as Lianna arrived at the front door. She saw her daughter leaning into a strange car.
‘Hey,’ she demanded. ‘What the hell . . . Molly!’
Molly straightened up and waved at her mother. ‘It’s Dad,’ she said.
Rob gazed at her, unsmiling, out the car window, and lifted a hand in greeting.
‘What’s my ex doing here?’ Lianna asked nervously.
‘May I come in?’ asked Detective Ortega. ‘I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.’
Lianna frowned, but stepped out of the way. Detective Ortega came inside, and waited for her. Lianna led the way down the hall to the sunroom. She flopped into a wicker chair and pointed to another one. ‘What’s this all about?’ she asked.
Detective Ortega took a moment to absorb the sight of her. She was curvaceous and lissome at the same time. Her face had a symmetrical perfection that was rare to see, although she seemed unconscious of her beauty, and did almost nothing to enhance it. Her clothes were faded, and she had no visible make-up, although one didn’t ordinarily see such a flawless complexion, even with make-up.
‘Mrs Janssen,’ he said. ‘Are you acquainted with a man named Norman Cook?’
Lianna blanched. ‘Why are you asking me about Norman Cook?’
‘Mrs Janssen?’ said Ortega politely but firmly.
Lianna sighed. ‘Yes. I mean, I was, years ago. I knew him. A lifetime ago.’
‘When’s the last time you saw him?’
‘Not for years,’ she said. ‘What is going on?’
‘Do you know where he is?’
Lianna glowered. ‘Why?’
‘Just answer the question,’ said Ortega.
‘He’s in prison,’ Lianna said. ‘Serving a life sentence. Why are you asking me about Norman?’
‘Have you heard from him lately?’
‘No,’ said Lianna. ‘Why would I?’
Detective Ortega stared at her. ‘What was your relationship with Norman Cook?’
Lianna sighed. ‘All right, look. I was involved with him. It was a lifetime ago. He was a guy with a wild streak, and I was young and very naive, when we met. I did whatever he told me to do. I shouldn’t have, but I did. It was a terrible mistake to ever get mixed up with him in the first place. I’m not the same person now. I have moved on.’
‘Are you aware of the fact that he escaped from a prison work detail a few weeks ago and stole a car?’
‘Norman escaped?’ she cried.
‘Yes.’
Lianna shuddered.
‘You seem uncomfortable with that idea.’
‘I am uncomfortable,’ she said. ‘I don’t want Norman Cook to be trying to find me. Or anyone else.’
‘Do you think it’s likely that he would try to find you?’
‘I don’t know. It’s possible. I stopped answering his letters years ago.’
‘Mrs Janssen, we have reason to believe that Norman Cook did just that. He came here looking for you a few weeks ago.’
‘Came here?’ Lianna yelped. ‘No.’
‘Apparently, he went first to the home of your ex-husband in Manayunk. Then he was directed here, to your present address.’
‘Directed by whom?’ Lianna asked suspiciously.
‘By Chloe Kendricks,’ he said.
Lianna’s eyes widened. ‘Oh my God. Wait a minute. She talked to Norman? Oh my God. Was he the one who told her? Of course, he did. Jesus . . .’
‘Excuse me?’ said Detective Ortega.
Lianna sighed. She got up and walked over to the door of the sunroom and glanced into the house. Then she closed the sunroom door firmly. ‘Look, I was just a teenager myself when I got involved with Norman Cook. OK? I was young and I got pregnant. Before long I found out that he was still married to somebody else. But, by then,