The Night Stalker_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [66]
“How long did I work for you, Jack?” she asked sternly.
“Six years,” I replied.
“Did I learn anything in all that time?”
“You learned plenty.”
“Glad to hear it. Yes, I’ve ruled the parents out as suspects. They didn’t sell their baby or decide to get rid of him. They’re innocent young kids. Now, let’s get this show on the road.”
Burrell started walking toward a room down from the ward. I gave the newborns a final glance, and saw a tiny guy in the front raise his clenched hand like he was saluting me. I couldn’t help myself, and waved back.
Lonna Wakefield and her husband were having a good cry when we entered the room. Lonna was sitting up in bed, a petite, fair-skinned young woman with wide, childlike eyes, while hubby sat beside her, a husky, corn-fed guy with a face as round as a barn owl. The wall beside the bed looked bruised.
Burrell introduced me to the couple. They both looked at me suspiciously, then did the same to my dog. Burrell picked up on their apprehension.
“Jack is an expert at finding abducted children,” she explained. “He’s offered to help us find your son.”
The husband frowned. “No offense, Detective, but we don’t have money to pay for this guy.”
“Jack won’t charge you,” Burrell said.
The couple’s faces lit up. I made Buster lie down, then crouched beside the bed so I was looking into Lonna’s face. Burrell was an excellent judge of character, but I still had to be sure that the Wakefields weren’t trying to pull the wool over our eyes. More than one sobbing couple had been responsible for selling their kid to pay off a debt, and I had to be certain these two were being honest.
“I’d like to ask you some questions about the woman who took your son,” I said. “Take your time with your answers. The more you can remember, the easier it will be for me to find your baby.”
Lonna rested her hand on her husband’s wrist. “I’ll do whatever you want, mister.”
“Let’s start from the beginning. How many days have you been here?”
“Three,” Lonna said. “I started having my contractions early, and Jimmie rushed me to the hospital on Tuesday night.”
“Detective Burrell told me that a woman came into your room this morning, and you gave her your son,” I said. “Why did you do that?”
Lonna winced, and I thought her husband was going to come out of his chair.
“She didn’t do it on purpose,” Jimmie Wakefield said angrily.
I ignored him, and continued staring into his wife’s eyes.
“I thought she was a nurse,” Lonna replied softly.
“Was she wearing a nurse’s uniform?” I asked.
Lonna’s eyes flickered as she brought up the memory. “Yeah, but she wasn’t wearing a nurse’s badge around her neck. I should have noticed that.”
“You had other things on your mind. Had you seen this woman before?”
“I saw her hanging around the maternity ward. I really didn’t notice her, not right away. There are so many people, between the doctors and nurses and volunteers and visitors. There was even a newborn class one day. She sort of blended in.”
“Had she visited your room before?”
“Yes. She popped in after Martin was born to see how I was doing.”
“Can you describe her?”
Lonna closed her eyes. “She was about thirty-five, Italian, maybe five-six or five-seven, kinda plump, wore her hair tied back in a bun, pleasant face.”
“Was she nice to you?”
She opened her eyes. They had welled up with tears, and Jimmie grabbed a tissue and handed it to her. “She was sweet,” Lonna said. “She reminded me of my mom.”
“Which was why you felt comfortable handing her your son.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to at first.”
“Then why did you?”
“My baby was coughing, and needed to get his medicine. She offered to take him. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Lonna had just described the classic abductor of newborns: a pleasant woman impersonating a hospital employee who ingratiates herself with a mother in order to get her hands on the mother’s newborn child. I decided that the Wakefields hadn’t done anything wrong, and rose