Chapter 10 – "Building a Mystery"

Somewhere on Cortland Street

He scanned the paper. The entire paper. Normally he only read the sports pages. And even then only the stories that concerned his favorite teams. But now, ever since that night, he scanned the whole paper.

Did they know anything?

Drew let out a breath he hadn't even been aware that he has been holding as another day passed and still no story. Not a mention in the police blotter save the lone mention of a break-in. That could only mean one thing.

The PCPD were clueless about what really happened that night. Correction, what was supposed to happen that night. And that was good for him. He was in enough trouble as it was with his boss. He didn't need to add attracting police suspicion to her list of things to yell at him about.

"Dude. It looks like we are still in the clear." Big Tim, who was surprisingly small for his nickname announced as he and Frank returned from their mission.

Drew cocked his eyebrow at the two. There was no way he was taking the word of those nimrods. They were the ones who had assured him that the babysitter was asleep and even if she did wake up, she couldn't get far from them. Yeah they were just fonts of information. "And you know this how?"

Frank at least had the brains to close the door behind them before speaking. "We've been watching. There's no Feds, no cops, they haven't changed their routines. I would be willing bet the only thing they have changed is the locks." He shot a grin at his boss on this caper. "I think we are in the clear."

It did appear that way. All that the Dynamic Blunders had just reported seemed to bolster his confidence that they had been somewhat successful. Not that she would see it that way.

Drew's ears were still ringing from the phone call he had to make to tell her they didn't have the kid. He considered himself a master in the art of cursing but this was similar to seeing Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel. And the fact that it was all in Russian? The mastery still amazed him.

So while it didn't look like anyone was the wiser to the real purpose of that night, Drew was reluctant to call her and tell her that the coast was clear. That would only mean one thing. She would want them to try again.

She had been clear from the beginning. That kid must be taken and brought to her. No excuses. If they did not succeed the first time, they were to try until they did have him. There was no aborting this mission.

Not that he was all too clear on why this child had to go to her. But he figured that was probably for the best. The less he knew, the less the cops would have to pin on him if they did get caught. And in researching Spencer, Drew was convinced that they probably would get caught. Hell that was probably part of her plan. Have them do the dirty work while she walked away with the baby free and clear.

Not that he really gave a rat's ass for the two lunkheads currently watching TV in front of him. But his own neck? Yeah Drew cared about that immensely. So he had a secret stash of tapes of all the conversations he had with her. The cell phone? She was the only one who called it. If he could possibly go down for this, he would make damn sure that she would go down with him.

The ringing of the cell phone startled him. That was another thing she was excellent at. Calling when he had just been thinking about her. He was beginning to think those rumors of being some sort of supernatural evil were correct. Or he had just spent too many hours with Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber watching Buffy.

"Yeah." He answered the phone.

"Devez-vous répondre au téléphone comme le taht?"

He rolled his eyes even though he knew she couldn't see him. Even though he knew Russian was her primary language, she insisted on starting each conversation in French. If she were mad, she would slip into Russian. If she got really mad, then he got English. In a sick way, he loved to make her really mad. "I always answer the phone this way. If you don't like it, you can just find another guy to…"

"Oh fermé. Des nouvelles?"

He bit back the groan. He could lie but he was reasonably sure that she was receiving the local papers wherever the hell she was. It would be far to easy for her to check his veracity. "No news. Frank and Big Tim just came back. They say there's no extra protection, no change in routine. The only new thing is probably a new lock. No mention in the paper."

"Excellent. Quand essayerez-vous encore?"

Could he call it or could he call it? Just a little assurance and she was already to try again. He would argue that they came too close with the baby sitter last time. That they should back off. He would argue if he thought it would do any good what so ever. "When do you want it done by?"

"Bientôt. Très bientôt."

Elsewhere

Ky Thompson threw her cell phone across the room. Sometimes she really hated her job and being tied to that thing. She grinned as it made a satisfying clunk as it skidded across the coffee table.

"Take that you freaking moron!" she yelled. "Do you not understand I know what I am talking about?"

She let out a scream that sounded closer to a growl. Otis tilted his head and looked at her for a brief second before deciding the view out of the bedroom window was far more interesting than watching his owner freak out again.

He padded the short distance to the room as she continued. "I tell you it's going to happen soon. And what do you do?" She punctuated each word with a jab at the imaginary object of her rage. "You laugh. Tell me to stand down. You have it under control."

She snorted as she flung herself down on the couch. "Under control my ass. You got gangsters watching the kid. You got a father who I know is acting on his own, most likely with help from the kid's crime analyst uncle. Not to mention a mother on her last gasps of sanity and YOU'VE GOT IT UNDER CONTROL?" She punched the pillows underneath her with all the fury she could. "IN WHAT UNIVERSE?"

Apparently finding nothing as interesting as Ky's fit, Otis returned to the living room and laid his head on her lap. She absent-mindedly rubbed the top of his head. "Otis, every instinct in my body is screaming that something needs to happen soon. If they go too much longer we'll never see them again. And that can't happen." Her eyes focused as she noticed Lucky, Elizabeth and Cameron leaving the apartment, apparently leaving for a walk.

She moved closer to the window. "I swear it Otis. That will not happen. And if they won't listen to me," she paused and secured her small pistol in her ankle holster camouflaged by her pants. "then I'm going to do something about it my self."