Courting Disaster Part 26

He scowled at her with disgust. "How can one baby take up so much time? Do you know how starved I am for adult conversation? Even when Hannah's awake, which isn't often, we talk about Kaitlyn!"

Angie poured them both some iced tea and sat across from him. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Bad? I'll tell you what's bad. It's being Mr. Nice Guy who lets a stranger and her baby take over his apartment, his kitchen, even his bathroom! Do you know what it's like to find a woman's underwear in my bathroom? I'm sleeping on the sofa, and most nights it's so covered with stuff from the baby I can hardly find it to go to bed. And she's always apologizing for being there, for being trouble. Do you know how annoying it is to be around someone who's constantly grateful? And when I ask her what she wants to eat, she says she doesn't know, that it's up to me. I have to make all these decisions about food, when all I really want to do is to come over here and see what you've got left over."

He took a big bite of lasagna and seemed ready to cry again, this time from pure ecstasy.

"She's trying to be a good guest, that's all," Angie patiently explained. "And to not interfere with things you want. How can it bother you?"

He ate another big bite, then swallowed. "How can it? Good question. That's what I tell myself. I shouldn't care. I should put up with it. All of it. The constant smell of slightly soured milk in my apartment. Trying to decide if I prefer to use Pampers and have them sit in plastic bags fermenting until I gather them together and dispose of them, or use cloth diapers that have to be shaken out in the toilet then lay rotting in a pail until a sour-faced delivery man picks them up. And I thought my job was crummy! What do I care about diapers, anyway? Nothing! I've found out more about diapers than I've ever wanted to know." He began to sob even harder. "Just thinking about them makes me sick!"

"Stan, control yourself!" Angie said, growing increasingly worried.

"I don't want to control myself! I have controlled myself, over and over for days, watching my nice life turned completely upside down! Did you know I tried making her omelets, for G.o.d's sake, just to get her to eat more than a few little nibbles? The woman wasn't well nourished to begin with, and then having the baby, and soon after going through all that with Tyler, she needs bed rest, almost constant bed rest, and lots of good food. But I don't want to cook. I don't know how to cook. I hate to cook! And I especially don't want to cook smelly eggs! The apartment reeks of them for hours, along with all the baby smells. Do you know babies do nothing but sleep, eat, cry, and dirty their diapers? That's it."

"Stop already!" she pleaded. "I had no idea."

He grabbed another wad of Kleenex and blew his nose. "Angie, what am I going to do? I want my nice life back! h.e.l.l, I want my bed back!"

Chapter 28.

The day of her engagement party Angie was in a tizzy. Apparently the U.S. Postal Service had done its job and delivered the directions to the party on time, but not even Connie would tell her its location, only chuckling and saying it was someplace "special." Special? What in the world did that mean? Angie was more worried than ever.

She planned to pay Connie a visit. Stan had probably received a special delivery letter, but she didn't even want to try to get any information out of him.

He was a babbling ma.s.s of confusion. Last evening after his breakdown, they'd come up with a plan. This afternoon, he was going to call Hannah's social worker for the name of a trustworthy babysitter and then he and Hannah were going out for lunch. There, he'd tell her that he liked her, but that was it, and that she'd have to find her own place to live. He'd go with her to Homicide to talk to Rebecca Mayfield. She could probably get pro bono help from Sh.e.l.ly Farms's law firm since they'd been friends. Stan would do what he could to help her, but the bottom line was she needed to move out.

Angie could only hope it'd work.

In late morning, Paavo stopped by. One look at his face and she could see he was still angry with her. "Please tell me you haven't done anything else since ruining an FBI operation and putting yourself in danger." Normally, Paavo never yelled. Today was an exception. "There's a murderer out there, Angie. What the h.e.l.l were you and Stan thinking?"

She guessed this wasn't the time to tell him how she wanted to be helpful in his business the way Serefina had been with Sal's. "I'm sorry," she said, and that diffused him more than any argument could have.

In no time she placed a fluffy cheese and Italian sausage omelet in front of him, then sat down and watched his mood relax. "I was worried about you," he said, by way of apology.

"I know. You're so cute when you do that." At his stunned expression, she continued, "So, what did the FBI have to say? I can't believe that they're involved. It makes me think I might have been right about the baby smuggling."

He nodded, and between bites filled her in. "The FBI estimates there was a s.h.i.+pment every week or two. Usually two or three babies a s.h.i.+pment, at fifty to a hundred thousand per, no taxes. That's at least five million a year."

"It's scary to think there are that many women willing to sell their children."

"Or unwilling. Who knows what goes on when these people need money or have customers? Hannah wasn't exactly willing."

"You're right." As she cleaned up the kitchen and they moved into the living room, she told him Hannah's story of being a foster child and deciding to keep her baby. She pretended it was something Stan had learned a while ago, since she'd promised Stan she wouldn't reveal Hannah's whereabouts to Paavo, but would give Hannah a chance to turn herself in for questioning.

Paavo stood by the window as Angie talked, looking out at San Francis...o...b..y. To his surprise, he found himself moved by Hannah's struggles to keep her child.

Like Hannah, he hadn't been raised by his parents. He was lucky that Aulis Kokkonen took care of him and managed to keep him out of the view of the Child Protective Services. Angie once said to him that no one simply raises someone else's kids. Aulis did, and for that, Paavo would be forever grateful. Hannah didn't have an Aulis Kokkonen in her life.

He wondered if Hannah felt, as he often did in the darkness of night when he was alone, that the reason her parents gave her up was because she was unlovable and that no one, ever, would be able to truly love her. He understood it was something many foster and adopted children felt-despite themselves.

He often wondered, in those same black hours, if one day Angie would wake up and realize she didn't truly love him, that she only "thought" she had, and now was going to dump him the way he "deserved." As much as he knew better intellectually, he couldn't control what his heart told him. And his heart had learned to think that way at a very young age.

In her search for love, Hannah had turned to Tyler, letting her emotions overrule her judgment until her maternal sense took over and made her run away.

She ran to Bonnette, again hoping for love. From what Angie had implied about the relations.h.i.+p, Hannah had made another mistake. At least this time it wasn't a dangerous one.

"If Hannah's innocent," he said, "we'll find a way to help her."

"You don't think she killed Tyler after all?"

"I don't, and even Rebecca is wavering now. We've got another suspect-Lance Vandermeer. Olympia Pappas saw him with Tyler shortly before Tyler's death. The problem is Vandermeer claims he was home with his wife, that the witness may have seen him with Tyler at the Athina and is confused, and there's still the problem of only Hannah's fingerprints being on the murder weapon."

Angie was intrigued. "But you think he's a possibility?"

"I think he did it. The problem is that we don't have enough evidence to refute his alibi and get a search warrant."

"Why would Vandermeer want to kill Tyler?" Angie asked.

"Good question. We know he wanted to sell Vandermeer his baby, but then Hannah refused to part with her," Paavo said. "Why that would lead to Tyler's death is a problem."

"We also know," Angie said, standing as she got more and more into this, "that Vandermeer had a violent temper. If he killed the baby's father and set up the baby's mother to go to prison for it, that would leave the child without a guardian and he could take her!"

"Only if he went through a private party," Paavo added, "like the people at the Athina-because we know Social Services wouldn't let him have her. But if Hannah were arrested, wouldn't she give Kaitlyn to Stan to care for?"

Angie shook her head. "I don't think Stan would do it." She rubbed her forehead and paced. "Think! There's got to be a reason."

"Let's look at this logically," Paavo said, leaning against an antique chest. "The Athina is involved in smuggling babies. Sh.e.l.ly Farms finds out. He tells Hannah to get away. He also wants to talk to Tyler-maybe about Hannah-then turns up dead. If Tyler killed him, it may have been because Tyler saw their meeting as an opportunity to get rid of danger to the whole smuggling operation. After all, not only was Sh.e.l.ly a threat to the sale of Kaitlyn, but a threat to Tyler's source of income. A whole lot of income."

Angie nodded. "So, the other smugglers may have known Tyler was a killer-and that means he could have become a liability to them, a hunted man. Or, the smugglers might have felt they couldn't trust him for some reason. Or, maybe he demanded too much of a payoff for his crime...and that's how Vandermeer got involved!"

"It is?" Paavo asked.

"Exactly," Angie continued. "One of the people at the restaurant could have easily convinced Vandermeer that Tyler was scamming him, would take his money and not give him the baby. Whoever did that gave Vandermeer a knife from the kitchen with Hannah's fingerprints and told him to use it on Tyler!"

Paavo stared at her. "You've got a devious mind, Angie." Then he grinned. "And you may be right."

"Not only that," she said proudly, "but I know who killed him."

"You do?"

She smiled, and after a dramatic pause, announced, "Gail Leer! She's behind all of it-and she killed Tyler in a fit of rage when she learned what he'd done to Hannah."

Just then her phone rang. She answered. It was Gail Leer.

Gail stood at the bar of the Buena Vista, a popular tavern overlooking Aquatic Park. An Irish coffee was in front of her as she waited for Angie. It wasn't Angie who approached, though. It was Paavo.

The BV had two exits, one near each end of the bar. As soon as she saw him, she headed for the exit opposite. The crowd of people made it hard for her to get through quickly, and before she escaped, Paavo grabbed her arm.

"We've got to talk," he said.

"Where's Angie?"

"She's not coming."

"You have no reason to hold me." She tried and failed to pull free. "I'm leaving."

"You told Angie the FBI is on to you, that you needed to talk to Hannah. I'm here to listen," Paavo said.

She studied his eyes a long moment, as if trying to decide whether she could trust him or not. "I'd hoped Angie would bring me to Hannah, or at least relay a message to her. Tell her I didn't know about Tyler's plans. If I had, I would have stopped him. Tell her I wasn't a part of any of it, that...that I was hoping to help her raise her baby."

Her words surprised him and he let her go. Oddly, at that same moment, the pieces of the case began to fall together. "If not you, who was Tyler working with?"

A long moment pa.s.sed. "My husband. I wasn't a partner in what he was doing, Inspector Smith, you've got to believe that! I knew about it, and in that I know I'm complicit. But I never actually did anything."

"Who else did he work with?"

She looked stunned by the question. "Well...Michael Zeno."

"And?" Paavo asked.

She rubbed her head. "I don't know. I once heard a name-Nadine Nadler. But I don't know who she is. I'm not even sure if she's involved."

He thought about that a moment, then asked, "Did you ever tell Hannah you'd help her? Why leave her alone, thinking no one cared?"

She lifted her chin. "I thought there was more time. The baby was about three weeks early. And, as I said, I had no idea what Tyler was planning."

"Hannah may be arrested for Tyler's murder," Paavo said. "Evidence points her way; evidence I can't ignore. I don't want to take her in, but if I find her, I don't have a choice. Inspector Mayfield has a warrant for her arrest. I'd have to honor it."

"You can't do that to her!" Gail cried.

"She's a suspect in a murder."

Gail bowed her head, shaking it from side to side. "She's no killer! d.a.m.n, why didn't I talk to her, have her come to me? I'd have helped her."

Her cell phone began to ring. She glanced at the number. "It's the restaurant."

She stepped out to the sidewalk as she hit the talk b.u.t.ton. "h.e.l.lo?" Her eyes, wide with surprise, met Paavo's. "What? She is?...All right.... Yes."

She snapped her phone shut and put it in her purse. "I've got to go."

He cupped her elbow. "What's going on? You're in this too deep to walk away, you know. You can talk here or at the Hall of Justice."

She opened her mouth to protest, but then shut it. He let go as she walked away from the Buena Vista, across the street to the Aquatic Park, her breathing heavy the entire time. Paavo stayed with her, giving her time to sort this out in her mind, and hoping she'd make the right decision on her own, without him having to make it for her.

She stopped just past the cable car turntable, facing the water.

"If it's about Hannah," he said, "let me talk to her. The safest thing for her is to give herself up, to tell her side of the story. She needs to work with us. You know that, Mrs. Leer. Do what's right."

She nodded, and then her shoulders sagged in defeat. "The call was from my husband," she began in a soft and tremulous voice. "This morning, I told him I was leaving. That I couldn't believe he'd planned to sell Hannah's baby, that the FBI was lurking around-everyone on the dock saw them the other night-and that I couldn't sit back and watch him in silence any longer. Then I called Angie. I wasn't only calling about Hannah, but for myself as well. I'd hoped she'd be a go-between, that she'd talk to you and tell you my side of the story so I wouldn't be thrown into jail."

"Yes," he said, urging her to continue.

"Eugene called now to say Hannah's at the restaurant looking for me. She needs my help." Tears filled her eyes. "He asked me to come back, to help Hannah-and him. He said he'd been wrong; that he'd give everything up if I'd go back to him."

"Do you believe him?" Paavo asked.

"He's my husband."

Outside the Athina, the sign in the window said CLOSED. The front door was locked. Gail used her key to go inside. Paavo waited in the doorway, his gun ready.

The restaurant was empty. Even the kitchen.

"Eugene?" she called. She went into the kitchen. "No!" she cried.

Paavo hurried after her, gun drawn. Eugene Leer held her, a gun to her head. "Drop it," Paavo ordered.

"Wrong, Inspector." Eugene nodded behind Paavo.

He glanced quickly over his shoulder. Michael Zeno stood a few steps behind him, also holding a gun.

Chapter 29.

When Angie returned from the hairdresser, she called Paavo's cell phone and pager, but he didn't answer. She tried the Buena Vista with no luck. She then phoned Homicide. Yosh was no help, so she left a message for Rebecca Mayfield.

Fear and anger warred. Anger that he did anything at all, including his job, on this important Sat.u.r.day. Why couldn't he wait? Why ruin their engagement party? But much stronger was fear that something terrible had happened to him. She could think of no other reason for him not to answer his cell phone. For him not to be home by now.

He was simply going to talk with Gail Leer, then head home and get ready for the party. He'd convinced Angie he wouldn't confront Gail, that she wasn't a threat to him and their meeting wouldn't be dangerous in any way. He'd question her about Tyler and Lance Vandermeer, and suggest she turn state's evidence for the FBI.

It wasn't even supposed to take an hour.

Where was he?