WITNESS PROTECTION 02: The Baby Rescue Read online

  “Either way there was someone at the hotel besides the man who had turned out the lights that helped Saunders. We have to find that person.”

  He drove into a large parking lot in front of a ten-story building with a sign that read Wellington Medical Center.

  Colton walked into the lobby first and went to the information kiosk to find the floor where Dr. Freeman’s practice was located. He stepped on the elevator, punching the number four and then turning around. Lisette had waited a moment before she entered the building. As the doors closed, she came into the medical center and strolled to the security guard on duty.

  Colton exited on Dr. Freeman’s floor, his double doors across from the elevator when Colton got off it. He went into the office and headed to the receptionist desk. He stuck his hand into his pocket for his wallet. “I’m here to talk to Dr. Freeman.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but—”

  “I’m sorry. He doesn’t have any openings today. In fact, the whole week.”

  Colton flipped open his wallet, and the young woman’s eyes grew round as if he were going to bribe her to see the doctor. He showed her his badge. “I’m here in an official capacity. I need to see him. Now.”

  The twentysomething lady shot to her feet. “He’s with a patient. I’ll take you to his office, and he’ll be in when he’s finished.”

  Following the receptionist, Colton asked, “How long will that be?”

  “I’ll let his nurse know you’re waiting. I’m sure he’ll be in shortly.” She opened the door at the end of a long hall.

  He stepped inside and inspected the room. He immediately discovered the reason Dr. Freeman went to the masquerade ball dressed as a clown. His office held a collection of Emmett Kelly figurines among the medical books on the shelves behind a massive mahogany desk. Sunshine poured into the place through a bank of windows along the south wall. No pictures of a family anywhere made Colton wonder if the doctor was single. Fifty years old and he currently didn’t have a wife?

  He wasn’t sure why he was curious. It probably had nothing to do with the case, but it still nagged him. Because he was thirty-six and no prospects of getting married in his future? Why was he even thinking that?

  He shook the thought of marriage and age out of his mind. But as he prowled the office, another question teased him. Did Lisette date? Had she been married before? Was she involved seriously with someone? In the past he’d never asked a partner that, but the urge to discover the answers to those questions was strong.

  What in the world was wrong with him? He paused at the windows overlooking the parking lot, searching for his rental. Anything to take his mind off where his thoughts were going.

  What was keeping the doctor?

  He glanced at his watch and laughed. Five minutes since he’d come into the room. This was why he avoided getting too close to anyone. That person began to occupy his thoughts more than his job. When getting out of his wrecked Firebird, Lisette was the first one he thought of—not the baby, not the witness he was protecting, not the other marshal. But Lisette. He’d fought to get to the cabin because of her. That realization stunned him.

  The door opened, and Dr. Freeman came into his office. “My nurse said you needed to talk to me. Why in the world would the U.S. Marshals Service want to see me?”

  Colton shook the image of Lisette from his thoughts and focused on the doctor, who was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt with a charcoal gray tie on, distinguished looking—a far cry from his clown costume. “I’m here following up on an incident that occurred at the masquerade ball a few days ago.”

  “What incident? Do I know you?”

  Colton ignored the second question and answered the first with, “The fight with the pirate.”

  The doctor eased into his chair behind his desk, leaning back in it. “Why in the world do you care about a disagreement that turned ugly? Frankly, I’m surprised by my behavior. I drank a little too much that evening and took offense at that man’s behavior.”

  “What did he do? I was there, but it was dark so I wasn’t aware of anything.”

  Dr. Freeman cocked his head. “Why is it any business of yours?” The curious tone in his question took the sting out of it.

  “I’m looking into anything unusual that happened that night at the ball. I’m on a case involving an escaped drug dealer.”

  A smile split the doctor’s face. “I could see that rat being involved.”

  “You know the pirate?”

  “Well, not really, but he moved in on my date. I couldn’t believe my good fortune when Hannah Adams asked me to the masquerade ball. I’d been trying to take her out for the past four months.”

  “How did he move in on your date?”

  “Before going to the party, I took her out to dinner. Since we were dressed in costumes, I had arranged to have a private room at a five-star restaurant set aside for us. I spared no expense.”

  “Dressed as a clown?”

  “That’s what she liked about me, or at least that’s what she said. I often entertain the children at the hospital. She knew that and asked me to dress as a clown. I was thrilled and did. Anyway, we were late to the ball, which didn’t set well with Hannah. The dinner took longer than expected and then we hit some traffic. When we arrived, she danced with me one time, then disappeared. The next time I see her, she’s holding on to the pirate, gushing all over him. I lost it.”

  “Was she dressed as Little Bo Peep?”

  “Yes. She looked so cute....” His voice faded as the doctor stared to the side, lost in thought.

  Colton cleared his throat.

  Dr. Freeman blinked and sat up straight. “Where were we? Oh, yeah. After the lights went out, I totally lost her in the crowd. When I searched for her, I saw that pirate and wanted to know where she was. We had words, and before I knew it, I took a swing at him.”

  “How do you know Hannah Adams?”

  “She works for the fertility clinic in this building. She’s a nurse.”

  “Did you find her? Take her home?”

  His eyebrows scrunched together. “No, and she has been avoiding me since then. I don’t know what happened.”

  Colton rose. “I won’t keep you. I know you have patients to see. I’d like to ask you to keep my visit confidential. Not to mention it to Hannah Adams or anyone else.”

  His eyes widened. “Is she involved with the drug dealer?”

  “No, but the fewer people who know about our investigation, the better it is. The drug dealer is a very dangerous man.”

  Dr. Freeman walked with him to the door. “Sure. I understand. Anytime you can put a drug dealer behind bars is a good day. I hope you find him.”

  “Me, too. Thank you.” Colton shook the doctor’s hand, then left his office.

  As Colton rode the elevator to the first floor, his thoughts spun with myriad questions. His first impulse was to charge over to the fertility clinic and interview Hannah Adams immediately. But in the back of his mind, something nagged at him. If she were the contact, what repercussions would happen if he interviewed her right now? He needed information on her—and the fertility clinic, a perfect place to find prospective parents. He wanted Saunders badly. He was determined to do this right. A baby was at stake.

  He found Lisette in the lobby, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “What did you find out?” he asked, her excitement contagious.

  “There’s a fertility clinic in this building. It’s the whole second floor and I saw a woman get on the elevator not long after you who could have been Little Bo Peep. I know she wore a mask, but the way she walked and something I can’t put my finger on made me think it could be her. The elevator she rode stopped on the second floor.”

  “Let’s go. I’ll tell you on the way to the hotel about Hannah Adams.”

  * * *

  While Colton went to talk with the security staff, Lisette sat in the office of the manager of the kitchen and wa
itstaff. “I need a list of the waiters on duty a few nights ago at the masquerade ball with a photo ID. We checked once and the photos were of the people who were scheduled to work that night. I need to know if there were any last minute substitutions.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “It’s a case I’m working on, and I’m not at liberty to give you any details.”

  The older man with thinning hair shifted toward his computer and punched in some keys. “There were three who worked the night of the ball who filled in for someone sick that night. Let me see who is here today and who is off.”

  “We’re only interested in the men.”

  “The three are men.” The manager continued to type and brought up a schedule on the screen. “I can pull up each one’s photo if you wish, and if the person is here, I can get him.”

  “Yes, please.” Lisette came around to stand behind the man while he went through the pictures of the waiters.

  On the last one, Lisette saw the staff member who might have been involved with Saunders. She zeroed in on the man’s name. “Is Tom Parks here today?”

  “Yes. He’s working a luncheon in an hour.”

  “I’d like to talk to him.”

  The manager rose. “I’ll get him, and you may use my office to talk to him. I have to check on the progress with the luncheon, anyway.”

  She smiled. “I appreciate your help.”

  While the man went to bring Tom Parks to the office, Lisette paced, running through the leads and what they had discovered so far. The clown didn’t seem to be involved with Saunders, but she’d learned never to rule out someone totally until the guilty person was discovered. She’d been surprised a few times.

  Brad and Mark were tailing the baby courier, who was holed up in a shady hotel, not doing anything but, it seemed, waiting. For what? A payment? If so, who hired her? One of Jackson’s men? Someone who could lead them to the middleman and ultimately Saunders? Or was Saunders Jackson?

  Still nothing from Janice and Quinn about anyone connected to the moose lodge looking like the man who had turned out the lights. If they could find him, they might be able to locate Saunders, too.

  And how does Hannah Adams fit into all of this? Does she? Just because she worked at a fertility clinic didn’t automatically make her a suspect. That evening at the ball all she had done was share a dance with Saunders. He might be a weasel, but he was an attractive man if you liked the muscle-bound type.

  The sound of the door opening halted her steps. She turned toward Tom Parks as he came into the office.

  “I was told you wanted to see me.” The thin, medium-size man hung back by the entrance as though he would flee at any moment. Worry carved deep lines into his youthful face. “Why does the FBI want to see me?”

  Lisette gestured toward the second chair in front of the manager’s desk. “Sit down. I have a few questions for you about the masquerade ball.”

  He looked at the seat warily. “I prefer to stand.”

  “You bumped into a guy dressed in a pirate’s costume that evening. Did you give him anything?”

  His jaw went slack. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I didn’t say you did. I was at the ball and noticed when you bumped into the pirate it appeared you slipped something into his pocket. What was it?”

  She wasn’t 100 percent sure, but she wasn’t going to let Tom know that. She stared him down until the guy averted his gaze and dropped his head.

  “Someone paid me to give the man a note. That was all. I didn’t see any harm in earning a generous tip.”

  “Just a piece of paper? Nothing else?”

  “No. One small sheet folded and taped.”

  “Why did you bump into him? Why didn’t you just hand it to the pirate?”

  “He told me he didn’t want anyone to know I was giving him a note. I’m not a pickpocket. I had to do something to get close to the man, so I acted like I’d tripped.”

  Lisette studied the waiter, whose direct stare didn’t waver. “Is this the man who gave it to you?” She pulled out two pictures, one of the man with a moose logo on his coat and one of the bulky cohort with Saunders at the cabin that she’d worked with the sketch artist to draw.

  Tom Parks tapped the man who had been with Saunders at the cabin. “That’s him. He wasn’t dressed in a costume. I thought he worked at the hotel.”

  “Why?”

  “He came out a door for employees only.”

  “Have you ever seen him at the hotel other than that night?”

  “No, but I’m pretty new so I don’t know too many people working here.”

  “Thanks. I have your contact information from the manager if I need to talk to you again. Do you have any plans to go on vacation or leave town in the next few weeks?” They didn’t have a few weeks to find Baby C.

  “No. I’m trying to work as much as I can. Saving up for a car. That’s why I jumped at the chance to fill in for a sick employee.”

  “How last minute was that?”

  “The night manager called me frantic when one of his employees got sick and went home half an hour before the event was starting. I don’t live far from the hotel.”

  “Remember, stay put in Denver.” She walked to the door and opened it for Tom to exit. Out in the hall the manager was talking with an employee. She waited until he was finished, then showed him the two photos, which Colton was passing around to the security guards. “Do you know either one of these men?”

  “Sure. He drives a delivery truck for McCartney Foods. He comes here about three times a week. At least, he did until recently. There’s a new guy this week.” The manager combed his fingers through his hair. “The staff really likes him. He’s probably on vacation.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Buddy Smith.”

  “May I have the name of your contact person and the phone number at McCartney Foods?” Lisette asked as Colton exited the elevator and strode toward her, his expression neutral.

  “Let me get it.” The manager slipped inside his office.

  Colton stopped in front of Lisette. “I didn’t get anything more from the security guys.”

  “I did. I know the name of the other man at the cabin with Saunders. Buddy Smith. He delivers food to the hotel. The manager is getting me the information of the supplier he works for.”

  “The more we investigate, the more people we find involved in some way with Saunders. I’m beginning to feel there is no middleman the deeper we investigate,” Colton said, and then greeted the manager, who returned with the information Lisette requested.

  “Thanks. I would appreciate it if you keep this to yourself.” Lisette pulled out her cell phone.

  “Not a word. I don’t want our hotel known for being associated with a drug dealer.”

  While Lisette and Colton headed to the parking lot, she placed a call to the contact person at McCartney Foods. She finished talking with him, then slipped inside Colton’s rental. “I’ve got an address for Buddy Smith. He took a week of his vacation, but you and I know he didn’t leave town. Maybe we’ll catch him at home.”

  “Wouldn’t it be even better if Saunders was at Smith’s house with Baby C?”

  “We can wish. I suggest we get a warrant, and while we’re waiting for that, we can case his house.”

  “Not an apartment?”

  “The man I talked with said Smith lived in the family home.”

  “He’s married, has a family?”

  “No. His mother left it to him when she moved to Arizona. The guy at McCartney Foods said Smith was a great worker. Dependable. Rarely absent.”

  “He lives alone. That’s good.” Colton drove out of the hotel parking lot and turned toward the north part of Denver.

  Lisette told Colton about the waiter giving Saunders a note. “I was beginning to think Saunders had written the note himself. Although I don’t think Tom Parks, the waiter, is involved directly, I’m going to call my office and have an FBI agent tail hi
m, especially since we don’t know who slipped Saunders the tracking device.”

  “Someone did. What happened at the cabin is the result of it. That person might not be one of the three we’re looking into.”

  “Or it could be Hannah Adams.”

  “Yes.” At a stop sign, Colton glanced at her. “We need to learn everything we can about her. After we have a talk with Buddy Smith.”

  Lisette’s stomach rumbled.

  Colton pulled into the intersection. “We’ll stop and get something to eat. It may take a while to get a search warrant. If we have to be on a stakeout, we might as well have a late lunch.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. As you heard, I’m starved. I didn’t eat the breakfast they brought to my room this morning. All I could think about was getting out of there. I hate hospitals.”

  “I feel that way, too. My mother died at a hospital, and I went into foster care after that. Did something happen for you to feel that way?”

  Foster care. He’d said it casually, but looking at him, tension became evident in his grip on the steering wheel and the hard set to his jaws. “I’m sorry. I had a mother—” The partial sentence was out of her mouth before she could take it back.

  He pulled into a fast food restaurant’s drive-through. “I remember reading about your mother having to leave the FBI under questionable circumstances. That had to be hard on you.”

  She twisted toward him. “What have you heard?”

  “You know how people like to gossip while hanging around waiting for something to happen.”

  “And you listen to gossip?” She couldn’t keep the anger from infusing her voice.

  “No.” He stared at her. “I don’t have time for that. But I can’t always stop from hearing it. She didn’t get charged with anything, so I figure she didn’t do it or they couldn’t prove it.”

  He didn’t ask which was true. That was surprisingly refreshing. Most people did.

  “What do you want to eat?”