The Stolen - Jason Pinter [26]
sucker, but did I go questioning the neighbors? Nope. I
went to the store, bought another jug."
"I have no idea how this relates to an actual human
being."
"It's hoopla, is what it is now," Jack said. "You wrote
a great piece, Henry. Move on."
"Hoopla? They didn't outlaw that word in, like, 1800?"
"Laugh it up, tiger. A family is back together. You want
to give them closure? Right now, today, this is the most
closure they're probably ever going to get. You think
people like Paulina Cole are going to stop calling? You
don't think there are people out there who know the juice
that can be squeezed from this family is worth money? Just
because you think you have scruples, son, doesn't mean
everyone else thinks that way."
"Cop cars," I said.
Jack looked puzzled. "Cop cars?"
"Danny Linwood told me that when he woke up, he
heard police sirens, and that he saw a cop car pull up
right where he'd been lying. I checked the newspapers
and police reports from that day, and couldn't find
anything about any crimes reported in the vicinity of
Doubleday Field."
The Stolen
77
"Could have been a prank. Could have been a drunk
wandered off before they got there. The cops could have
come for any number of reasons."
"Could be, sure. But don't you think it's a heck of a
coincidence that the cops are called to a scene where just
a few minutes ago, a kid who went missing for five years
appears out of thin air?"
Jack chewed on his lip, trying to figure out if there was
a way to play it like this was no big deal. I felt a lump in
my throat. This wasn't the Jack O'Donnell I'd grown up
idolizing, the kind who asked questions until there were
no more to ask. Who dug until he hit a vein or a nerve. This
Jack seemed tired, content to be apathetic, unwilling or
unable to go that extra step.
"I'm going to look into this," I said. "Somebody knows
who took Danny Linwood and why." Jack didn't say a
word, just shrugged his shoulders, stood up and walked
away. I debated following him, then decided it wasn't worth
it.
I picked up the phone and dialed the Hobbs County
Police Department switchboard. I asked to be connected
to whoever was investigating the Linwood abduction.
Then, surprisingly, the operator hesitated.
"Hold on one moment, sir, I'm going to have to check
on that." It seemed odd that despite the fact that Daniel
Linwood was likely Hobbs's biggest story since, well,
Danny's original disappearance, they couldn't connect me
to the investigating officer right away. The operator hadn't
been asked many questions.
"Sorry, sir, for the delay. Hold for Detective Lensicki."
A synthesized version of "Copacabana" came over the
earpiece. It was all I could do not to slice my ears off.
Finally a man answered with a curt "Yeah?"
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Jason Pinter
"Detective Lensicki, Henry Parker with the New York
Gazette. I was wondering if I could have a minute of
your time."
"I know who you are, Parker. I saw you yesterday at
the Linwood house. Haven't read your article in today's
paper. I'll get right to it when my shift is up." He didn't
sound very sincere.
"Yeah, anyway, Detective, I had a question about something Daniel Linwood told me yesterday. He said when he
woke up, he heard police sirens. Now, it might have been
police, it might have been an ambulance, but I couldn't
find any record or report of an investigation at Doubleday
Field. Could you comment on that?"
"No problem, Sherlock. There was no investigation
because there was no crime. There was no report because
nothing happened."
"So who called 911?"
"Excuse me?"
"I assume the police had a reason to show up at Doubleday Field with their sirens on."
"We do have routine patrols, Mr. Parker."
"Do you usually keep your sirens on during those
routine patrols?" Lensicki stayed silent. "Listen, Officer,
I'm not trying to break your balls. I just want to know why
it seems like everything's back to normal now that Daniel
Linwood has turned up, yet nobody's really turning over
any rocks to find out where he went."
"Listen