and nobody would find the notion of a woman dashing through airport corridors even remotely strange. Everybody dashed in airports. Even those who weren't running from madness.
“Please direct your attention to the video screens for a brief explanation of our safety procedures,” the cabin attendant urged over the plane's PA system after Bo had boarded and found her seat. No one paid the slightest attention, including Bo. If the plane crashed, they'd all be dead anyway. The plane's safety equipment, flotation devices, and emergency exits would be discovered to be jammed, dysfunctional, and not inspected since the craft's maiden flight in 1983. Bo could hear the eleven o'clock news report. “... investigation of the tragic October airline disaster that claimed 158 lives revealed today that safety mechanisms that might have saved half the doomed passengers failed to operate. . .” It was just a fact of life. Bo found it comforting that for once everybody else knew the truth too.
After the plane forced itself off the ground, Bo opened Weppo's case file on her tray table. On a clean narrative sheet she wrote what she knew so far.
“Four-year-old deaf boy is found tied up in a mountain shack. He has had no ASL training, but somebody has taught him to say his name, which comes out like Weppo. He's smart; I'm sure of it. He hasn't been starved or abused, but he's very pale. (Kept indoors somewhere?) Whoever brought him to the shack and tied him to the mattress fed him SpaghettiOs and built a fire to keep him warm before leaving him alone there. Whoever it was probably tied him to the mattress to keep him from running away. Whoever it was intended to come back, but didn't.”
“Annie Garcia remembered the license number of a car she saw. A car stolen in Houston and found in San Diego with a dead drug addict in it. I found a grocery receipt from a Houston grocery where the car was parked. This can't be sheer coincidence. The receipt must have fallen out of the car. This would mean that the dead druggie stole the car in Houston, bought the SpaghettiOs in Houston, has something to do with the Rowes since he used their account to charge the food at Jamail's, and is the one who left Weppo to die in that shack. Except he didn't mean to leave him to die. Then what did he mean? To go down into San Diego and get drugs and then come back? Maybe.”
“So who is this dead guy? Maybe a servant, handyman, driver for the Rowes? Did he kidnap Weppo from the wealthy family?”
“And who is the child in the old Rowe photographs? A relative, obviously, unless I imagined it. A relative the little boy has replicated genetically. But why wouldn't the influential Rowes have notified the police, the media, if a child related to them had been kidnapped?”
Wait a minute ! Maybe they did .
Clambering over a couple who looked eerily like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, Bo headed for the in-flight phone on the wall between cabins. Sometimes the police got gag orders for the media in kidnapping cases. And any judge would have seen the merit in a gag order for this case. With the state senate election in three days, a gag would save the state of Texas the expense of a second election after Yannick's people claimed media coverage of a Rowe kidnapping threw the close election to Tia.
Remembering the billboard eyes, Bo was stunned by another thought. What if Tia Rowe staged the kidnapping in order to get miles of free media just before the election? Bo knew a soulless psychopath when she saw one. Those charming, manipulative characters incapable of anything but self-interest. Tia Rowe was one of them, Bo would have bet on it.
“Houston Police Department,” a young male voice answered briskly. “Desk Sergeant Tromley.”
Bo dropped her voice an octave.
“I've got some information on the Rowe kidnapping,” she whispered. “Let me talk to the investigating officer.”
If a kidnapping had been reported, the HPD would be set up to
“Please direct your attention to the video screens for a brief explanation of our safety procedures,” the cabin attendant urged over the plane's PA system after Bo had boarded and found her seat. No one paid the slightest attention, including Bo. If the plane crashed, they'd all be dead anyway. The plane's safety equipment, flotation devices, and emergency exits would be discovered to be jammed, dysfunctional, and not inspected since the craft's maiden flight in 1983. Bo could hear the eleven o'clock news report. “... investigation of the tragic October airline disaster that claimed 158 lives revealed today that safety mechanisms that might have saved half the doomed passengers failed to operate. . .” It was just a fact of life. Bo found it comforting that for once everybody else knew the truth too.
After the plane forced itself off the ground, Bo opened Weppo's case file on her tray table. On a clean narrative sheet she wrote what she knew so far.
“Four-year-old deaf boy is found tied up in a mountain shack. He has had no ASL training, but somebody has taught him to say his name, which comes out like Weppo. He's smart; I'm sure of it. He hasn't been starved or abused, but he's very pale. (Kept indoors somewhere?) Whoever brought him to the shack and tied him to the mattress fed him SpaghettiOs and built a fire to keep him warm before leaving him alone there. Whoever it was probably tied him to the mattress to keep him from running away. Whoever it was intended to come back, but didn't.”
“Annie Garcia remembered the license number of a car she saw. A car stolen in Houston and found in San Diego with a dead drug addict in it. I found a grocery receipt from a Houston grocery where the car was parked. This can't be sheer coincidence. The receipt must have fallen out of the car. This would mean that the dead druggie stole the car in Houston, bought the SpaghettiOs in Houston, has something to do with the Rowes since he used their account to charge the food at Jamail's, and is the one who left Weppo to die in that shack. Except he didn't mean to leave him to die. Then what did he mean? To go down into San Diego and get drugs and then come back? Maybe.”
“So who is this dead guy? Maybe a servant, handyman, driver for the Rowes? Did he kidnap Weppo from the wealthy family?”
“And who is the child in the old Rowe photographs? A relative, obviously, unless I imagined it. A relative the little boy has replicated genetically. But why wouldn't the influential Rowes have notified the police, the media, if a child related to them had been kidnapped?”
Wait a minute ! Maybe they did .
Clambering over a couple who looked eerily like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, Bo headed for the in-flight phone on the wall between cabins. Sometimes the police got gag orders for the media in kidnapping cases. And any judge would have seen the merit in a gag order for this case. With the state senate election in three days, a gag would save the state of Texas the expense of a second election after Yannick's people claimed media coverage of a Rowe kidnapping threw the close election to Tia.
Remembering the billboard eyes, Bo was stunned by another thought. What if Tia Rowe staged the kidnapping in order to get miles of free media just before the election? Bo knew a soulless psychopath when she saw one. Those charming, manipulative characters incapable of anything but self-interest. Tia Rowe was one of them, Bo would have bet on it.
“Houston Police Department,” a young male voice answered briskly. “Desk Sergeant Tromley.”
Bo dropped her voice an octave.
“I've got some information on the Rowe kidnapping,” she whispered. “Let me talk to the investigating officer.”
If a kidnapping had been reported, the HPD would be set up to
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