Travis Wakefield said, "I'm sure you can understand how that could be embarrassing for a young man in Charlie's position."
I understand it's embarrassing for you, Mr. Country Club
, Finn thought. The Wakefields were clearly on tough financial times if Charlie had to work while going to college.
He said to Charlie, "We'll need the names of your co-workers."
The boy gulped. "I was by myself; the place isn't that big." He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Finn. "But here's my paycheck stub. See, they put the dates and hours right on it."
Yes, among the list on the printout was the date, along the hours of 5:30 – 10:30 p.m. But Finn needed verification from an actual human being. "Nobody was in the building when you arrived?"
Charlie shook his head. "Everyone was gone, honest. But believe me, if I hadn't cleaned the place, my company would have heard about it the next morning." He apparently thought of what their next question might be, because he said, "I didn't answer my cell phone because I left it in my car. But I called the local police as soon as I got the message."
"I'm sure you can appreciate that good paying jobs are scarce right now," Travis Wakefield told Finn.
"They are," Finn said.
"So we can all agree that Charlie's whereabouts have been documented," Travis Wakefield stated. "I expect you to be discreet about this matter." Taking Charlie by the arm, he walked out the door.
Agent Foster looked perplexed and annoyed. Finn explained the political situation to her. "I'll check with the manager of the Ward Building," he said. "If he can't verify Charlie's presence, maybe there are security cameras that can."
"Let us know what you find out," Agent Foster said. "If you need pressure applied, we can do that."
Finn waited for Agent Maxwell's report, but he was fairly certain of what the polygraph results were going to be.
"The parents and the brother all passed easily," Maxwell told him. "Charles Wakefield's and Brittany Morgan's tests are inconclusive. There was an uptick on Wakefield's graph when we asked about whether he had caused the baby to be harmed and if he knew where she was, but not enough to say he was definitely lying. Brittany Morgan, on the other hand—the graph indicates a probable lie when she said she did not cause her daughter to be harmed."
Had Brittany and Charlie planned something together? According to phone records, they'd talked by cell phone last evening, so they did communicate once in awhile. Did he dare ask the Morgans to let Mason download spyware onto Brittany's new phone?
Alice Foster checked her watch. "We've got a plane to catch. Since we don't have sufficient proof of kidnapping, we'll leave this in your hands, Detective. We'll keep the infant's stats up on the website until the case goes one way or the other. We trust you'll keep us informed of your efforts?"
He nodded. "Of course. Please feel free to send me any thoughts you might have on the case." He was running out of ideas.
"Good luck," Foster said before going out the door.
The clock on the lobby wall reminded him that it was three p.m. He hadn't started on the stack of printouts on his desk. He'd never eaten breakfast or lunch today.
Come back
, he felt like yelling as he watched the agents slide into their car.
The case is yours.
"Staff reductions will not be announced until the end of the year," the secretary to the Chairman of the Psychology Department told Grace.
"Can you tell me if my name is on a list of possible cuts?"
"I don't have that information, Dr. McKenna."
The woman didn't seem to have
any
information, at least not any that she was willing to share with Grace. If additional funding for her project was not in the works, then it seemed likely her position with the university, nominal as it was, was also on the chopping block. How was she supposed to plan? What was she supposed to do?
"The state has cut funding to all universities, Dr. McKenna; we're all in this together."
Hardly, Grace thought uncharitably; you're not exiled to some backwater where nobody knows you exist.
"Do you have any additional funding sources you can tap?" the secretary asked. "Any private grants you can apply for?"
Grace had been on the verge of asking her the exact same question. Fighting back a surge of frustration, she thanked the secretary and hung up. She tried to push the matter to the back of her mind, and went to join Josh and Neema for Neema's 'social hour' where they didn't work at teaching her new signs, but simply played with the gorilla and recorded her natural sign 'conversation.' Then they'd release her into the outdoor enclosure with Gumu for rambunctious ape interaction.
Josh sat on the floor with Neema, who was trying to give her baby—a plush toy gorilla—a bottle. The two kittens took turns ambushing each other and attacking Neema's other toys strewn around the perimeter of the room.
"I swear, this S-N-A-K-E and baby thing are connected in her furry brain," Josh said. Neema understood far more words than she knew how to sign; often Grace and Josh spelled to each other or used odd synonyms; it was like talking about Christmas around a three-year-old.
Josh continued, "Yesterday, when she was talking about that girl who lost the baby, Neema said the S word. Didn't she?"
Grace nodded. "S word, baby, go."
"Man was in there somewhere, too. Along with candy, candy, candy."
Neema looked up.
Tree candy
, she signed around the toy in her arms.
"No candy now," Grace told her. "Josh, don't say the C word again."
"Yes, boss." He went to Neema's toy box and pulled out a set of picture flash cards. He stepped over the kittens and then approached the gorilla. After spreading several flash cards on the floor in front of her, he pulled the plush toy away from Neema, setting it on the carpet several feet away.
Where snake?
he signed. Neema immediately thumped two fingers on the flashcard that showed a zigzagging snake, then reached out for the stuffed baby gorilla. She'd mastered flash cards years ago and was already bored.
Where baby?
Josh signed.
Neema rocked the baby gorilla toy in her arms, cradling it in the crook of her elbow as she signed
Baby here
.
Neema baby want
. The white kitten leapt onto a flash card and then shot off with the calico in hot pursuit. Neema whirled to watch.
"Maybe this is just all about Neema wanting a baby," Grace said.
"Then why does she keep bringing up the S-N-A-K-E?"
Grace knelt on the floor beside Josh, patting Neema's arm to get her attention.
Snake take Neema's baby?
she signed.
The gorilla briefly gazed into her eyes as though Grace was crazy. Then she lowered her head and studiously inspected her fingerlike toes one by one.
"Neema thinks Grace is boring," Josh voiced for the gorilla. "Not to mention crazy."
"Not helpful," Grace muttered. She tapped Neema's shoulder. "When did the snake take the baby?" she both signed and verbalized.
Store
. Neema looked hopeful again. She laid the baby gorilla toy down on the floor and signed
store candy soda candy.
Grace ignored the begging.
Snake inside store?
Neema ignored the question and watched the kittens rocket around the room.
Snow run Nest.
Josh turned to Grace. "They say caffeine helps kids with ADD. Maybe we should give her some coffee."
"Again," Grace snapped, "Not helpful. I thought you wanted to figure this out."
"Right." He crossed his legs yoga style and faced the gorilla, signing as he spoke. "Neema. Was the baby in the store?"
Baby car. Store candy candy soda.
Where baby now?
Josh signed.
Neema glanced around the room as if expecting to discover a baby in a corner. The kittens rolled in a furry ball, Snow thumping Nest with her tiny hind feet.
Cat play
, Neema signed.
Josh persisted.
Where baby now?
Snake take baby cry
, she finally signed.
Snake like this?
Grace signed, tapping the flashcard snake.
Snake on ground?
Bad bad.
Neema hooted and looked around the room again, worry clouding her dark eyes. She hated snakes. Even a worm or a caterpillar could send her climbing onto a chair. Species memory, Grace had been told; humans possessed it too.
No snake here
, Josh reassured Neema. To Grace, he said, "Is there a sign for 'hypothetical'?" To Neema, he signed
Store snake come on ground, take baby?
Snake arm man. Baby cry. Store soda go store.
Grace leaned toward her.
Man take baby?
Man snake arm.
Grace looked at Josh. "What the heck is a snake arm?"
"A mechanical arm?" Josh theorized. "Maybe pincers at the end would seem like a snake head? I used to know a man who had one of those things. Reminded me of Captain Hook. Scared me shitless as a kid."
"Can you draw a picture of one?"
"I'll try." Josh rose and disappeared to the dining area to find paper and pencil.
Grace turned back to the gorilla. Neema had pulled off her red muffler over her head. She chewed the knot for a few seconds, then draped the muffler over one huge black elbow and began twisting the scarlet fabric around her muscular forearm, pulling it tight with her teeth.
"Neema, pay attention."
Where baby go? Where snake arm go?
Baby go car. Cucumber car.
"Cucumber car?" Grace said aloud.
"A green car?" Josh guessed from behind her.
"Don't put ideas in her head." She turned to Neema.
What color car baby go?
The gorilla ignored her, seemingly fascinated by the sight of the red muffler twined around her own hairy black forearm.
Josh knelt on the floor next to them, thrusting out his crude drawing of a mechanical arm.
This snake arm?
Neema dismissed the paper quickly, signing
tongs
,
give tongs.
She loved Grace's kitchen tongs and often begged to use them to pick up toys or to pinch Gumu.
Grace studied Josh's drawing. "She has a point. Those do look a lot like tongs."
"Cut me some slack; I'm not an artist. That guy from my childhood
did
have tong thingamajigs instead of fingers."
Tongs
, Neema signed with her unadorned arm, agreeing. She tugged at the fabric on her other forearm with her teeth.
What snake arm?
Grace signed.
Neema waved her muffler-wrapped forearm.
"Duh," Josh huffed. "Ever wonder if she's smarter than we are?"
Grace glared at him.
Snake bracelet arm?
she signed to Neema.
Skin bracelet snake arm
, Neema replied. She tore the muffler from her forearm with her teeth, pushed herself to her feet and signed
Coke now
.
Knowing Neema was done with the inquisition for the moment, Grace stood too, signing
juice now
.
"A man with a snake bracelet took that Morgan baby to a green car," Josh summarized. "Are you going to call the police or should I?" His hand was already on the phone.
"Neither one of us. Not yet." Grace took a bottle of apple juice from the refrigerator and poured some into Neema's plastic cup.
"But what about Ivy Morgan?"
Neema gulped the juice down in one swallow, set her plastic cup down on the countertop and brushed her fingertips together, signing
more
.
Grace refilled Neema's cup. "Neither one of us can truly say if Neema saw anything."
The kittens had fallen asleep in the corner. After gulping her juice, Neema went over to investigate, leaning over them silently. She stroked the white kitten's back with a gentle finger.
"You know that Neema and Gumu invent stories for their own entertainment," Grace reminded Josh. "And you know how they associate things they see and hear. Remember Lacey?"
Lacey had been one of Neema's favorite volunteers in Seattle. When she took another job and suddenly disappeared from Neema's world, Neema made up a story about how a flock of crows she'd seen flying overhead had taken Lacey away.