Chapter nine

CHAPTER 9

Melbourne stepped in and worked to console Clara, for which I was grateful. That was another aspect of my job where Eden's skills were far superior. She was better with distraught families and knew how to talk to them and get the information we needed. I had a reputation for sticking my foot in my mouth and forgetting to be sympathetic. My single-minded focus was on finding the kids who disappeared.

The pram sat in speckled sunshine, ominous in the distance. While Melbourne had Clara distracted, I stood and made my way toward it, skipping over the yellow barrier tape, despite knowing better. I scanned the mulched path on my way and studied the fencing on either side of the yard. Turning back to face the house, I noted a single security camera set high on the deck's overhang. Its angle made me think it covered the patio door and nothing more, but it might have caught something useful. I made a mental note to ask Clara if we could view it.

"Detective?" Clara called after me.

Lost in my analysis, I ignored her and kept walking. Within seconds, I sensed her following.

"Detective?"

Before I got to the carriage, I held up a hand. "Stay off the grass, ma'am."

The pram was constructed of navy fabric on the outside with a domed canopy that could be drawn back in nicer weather. Another step and I could see inside. The interior of the pram was cushioned with a padded mattress and a ruffled, ivory-eyelet material edging the circumference.

It wasn't that I expected to find a baby sleeping inside, but my heart gave a jolt nonetheless at finding it empty. Even after eight years as a detective, each case, every missing child or teen or adult had a way of sneaking under my skin and filling my stomach with nauseous acid. Today was no different.

There was no baby in the navy pram, but what I found instead prickled the hairs on my arms to stand on end. In the center was a neatly folded baby blanket. Nestled in the middle was a silver pendant the size of a loonie on a leather cord. Etched on the pendant was a symbol of some kind, a spiral design, swirling toward the center with three dots on the lower exterior. The outer part of the spiral ended in a hook. I'd never seen anything like it before.

"That's how I found it," Clara said from over my shoulder. "I always drape the blanket over the top. It stops the bugs and the sun from getting at him."

I should have shooed her back to the deck and barked at Melbourne for allowing her to follow after me, but I shouldn't

have been contaminating the scene either. "Do you recognize the necklace?"

"No. I've never seen it before."

So whoever took Mathieu had taken the time to fold the blanket and replace it inside the carriage along with a small gift.

My head raced with the new information. Statistics roared like a hurricane, battering the inside of my brain and pointing me in several directions at once. Part of me felt certain if we located Giles Paquet, we'd locate the missing infant.

But now I wasn't so sure. "Has anyone touched this?"

"No, sir," came Melbourne's voice from behind. "Ikeyo ensured everyone stayed back once it was discovered. He… ensured the perimeter was in place."

As he should have.

"How many people have been in this backyard?" "I don't know, sir. I can ask Ikeyo."

"Six now, including you, Detective."

I spun, catching Ikeyo's attention where he stood on the bottom step of the deck, hands on his hips, not looking happy at all the people ignoring his yellow tape.

Rightfully.

"I need everyone to clear the area," I said.

Before backing away, I pulled out my phone and snapped a few pictures of the interior of the carriage, the pendant,

and the folded blanket. As I stepped away, I snapped a few more pictures of the backyard, the garden path, and the two gates.

As I moved to pocket my phone, it rang, jarring me from the maelstrom of thoughts swirling and spinning in my head. I checked the ID. My boss.

"Sarge, you'd better have someone for me," I snapped in lieu of a hello. "I'm going to need it. I've got what appears to be a premeditated kidnapping and a father who's in the wind. I'm not saying they're connected, but it's not looking good. I need crime scene investigators out here ASAP and a bloody partner if it's not too much to ask."

I waved at Melbourne, urging her to take Clara away as I turned my back, lowering my voice. "Sir, I think there's a good possibility we have a parental kidnapping, but certain details make me feel like it could be more. I cannot fly solo on this one. I have a bad feeling."

"Keep your pants on, Valor. I've been working on it. It's not as easy as you think. Did you miss the part where I said we were running short? That's why I called you in. I've been jumping through hoops to find you a replacement."

I pinched fingers into my eye sockets and paced the lower section of the deck. Bureaucracy was going to be the death of me.

"I hear you, sir, but did you miss the part where I said I have a missing five-month-old baby? I've got Peel running around like chickens with their heads cut off, canvassing the

neighborhood, setting up roadblocks, clearing the harbor, and conducting interviews. I've got a hysterical mother who can barely get through her story without breaking down. The husband won't answer his phone and isn't where he's supposed to be, and a kidnapper is leaving behind gifts in a carriage. My crime scene is contaminated, and the clock is ticking. You need to pull all the stops on this one. Just in case. Call it a gut feeling."

"Valor," Edwards snapped. "Listen to me. You need help. I hear you. Our guys are tied up, and I had to grovel to other departments. I'll get your CSIs as quickly as possible."

"How long on a partner?"

"One hour at most. Probably less."

"One hour? Sir, with all due respect, you know as well as I do that every minute counts in a kidnapping case, and if I don't—"

"I've got Summerfield making a call right now, so if you'd

—"

"Homicide? No. No. Sir, are you—"

"Work your case, Valor. Have Peel start setting up a command post if you think you need it. Help is on the way."

"But someone from homicide? Who?" "Summerfield is calling Doyle."

"Doyle? Aslan Doyle?" A wash of dread filled me. "You have a problem with that?"

"No, sir."

"Didn't think so. He should be on his way soon."

Edwards hung up, and I took a few cleansing breaths. Aslan Doyle. Of all people. He was the cockiest, most arrogant, outspoken sonofabitch I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. The guy thought he was God's gift to men and women alike. He'd made a pass at me once, but I'd put him in his place. Aslan was the last thing I needed. I should have gone solo.

With another fortifying breath, I turned back to the chaos at the house. Melbourne was calming Clara. Ikeyo was looking on expectantly. He'd likely picked up on the gist of my conversa

tion with Edwards.

I waved him over. "I've got help.