wake up soon.”
“What was the matter?”
“They think it was an allergic reaction to something. They’re still doing tests. But she was home with just A.J. before she called 911. I’ve been home and can’t figure out what she could have eaten or been exposed to. Man, I can’t help feeling like I’m in an episode of
Mystery Diagnosis
.” He squeezed his wife’s hand and turned to Carly. “Anything new about A.J. and the investigation?”
“The tip lines are manned by plenty of volunteers, and a lot of people have called.” She sighed, holding Joe’s tired eyes in a steady gaze. “Nothing great so far, but Harris is confident we’ll get a break soon, so I am too.”
“Have you been officially loaned to homicide?”
“Yeah, but saying okay looked about as painful to Garrison as a root canal.”
“He’ll never forgive you for showing him up and exposing all the dirt in the department he should have caught,” Joe said. He turned his focus to his wife and was silent for a moment.
Carly felt the need to talk and told him about walking neighborhoods with Harris and about how the people they visited were interested in doing what they could to help.
Joe listened, nodding occasionally. “This woman really planned this, didn’t she?” he asked, looking at Carly.
“It looks that way. I’ll bet any baby would have done. Somehow A.J. just became available.” She told him about Agent Wiley’s theory that most female abductors plan to raise the child as their own.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I agree. Look at all the trouble she went to. I refuse to believe she did all that to hurt A.J. in any way.”
“Thanks. I hope that helps when I tell Christy.”
12
THE ALARM JOLTED Carly back to the real world at 6 a.m. She checked her BlackBerry, and there were no messages or texts waiting. A quick call to dispatch and she learned that nothing had changed: A.J. was still missing.
Groaning, she got out of bed and dressed quickly in a bathing suit. A swim would help clear her mind for work. In order to beat the summer beach traffic, she needed to hit the sand early. And a swim would not only fit into her training schedule; it would energize her mind. The Maui Channel Swim, at 9.5 miles, would be the longest swim she’d ever competed in. She had managed to swim to safety after jumping from a speeding yacht to avoid being shot somewhere in the middle of the channel between Catalina and the Las Playas harbor, but she estimated that was only two or three miles. There was no way to be certain how far she had traveled that night.
With Nick’s encouragement and his promise to be in a support boat while she swam ringing in her ears, she’d mailed off an entry. It was meant to be a relay race, but there were twenty slots available to those who wanted to swim solo. She’d made it just in time to be number twenty. Her training had been going great until Nick’s therapy went south. Every time she was in the water, she swam with the intention of competing in the race, but now pain pierced her as she realized this was something else Nick was backing out of. Now that he wanted a break, would she do the swim without him?
I still want to, she thought, but will it be the same without Nick there? Will anything be the same without Nick there?
“Enough,” she muttered. Life goes on. Covering herself with a big T-shirt, she gathered Maddie, and together they jogged to the beach. Maddie would wait patiently on a towel while Carly completed her swim.
Carly’s mood improved immensely as she reached the sand. She loved the water and often found that the ocean soothed whatever ailed her. Today it was worry about A.J. and stinging memories of Nick’s wanting a break that caused her pain, but she vowed to think of the race and only the race once she hit the water.
She stripped off the T-shirt and ran into the waves, trying to leave the emotional pain on the sand. I got over him once. If I have to, I’ll get over
“What was the matter?”
“They think it was an allergic reaction to something. They’re still doing tests. But she was home with just A.J. before she called 911. I’ve been home and can’t figure out what she could have eaten or been exposed to. Man, I can’t help feeling like I’m in an episode of
Mystery Diagnosis
.” He squeezed his wife’s hand and turned to Carly. “Anything new about A.J. and the investigation?”
“The tip lines are manned by plenty of volunteers, and a lot of people have called.” She sighed, holding Joe’s tired eyes in a steady gaze. “Nothing great so far, but Harris is confident we’ll get a break soon, so I am too.”
“Have you been officially loaned to homicide?”
“Yeah, but saying okay looked about as painful to Garrison as a root canal.”
“He’ll never forgive you for showing him up and exposing all the dirt in the department he should have caught,” Joe said. He turned his focus to his wife and was silent for a moment.
Carly felt the need to talk and told him about walking neighborhoods with Harris and about how the people they visited were interested in doing what they could to help.
Joe listened, nodding occasionally. “This woman really planned this, didn’t she?” he asked, looking at Carly.
“It looks that way. I’ll bet any baby would have done. Somehow A.J. just became available.” She told him about Agent Wiley’s theory that most female abductors plan to raise the child as their own.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I agree. Look at all the trouble she went to. I refuse to believe she did all that to hurt A.J. in any way.”
“Thanks. I hope that helps when I tell Christy.”
12
THE ALARM JOLTED Carly back to the real world at 6 a.m. She checked her BlackBerry, and there were no messages or texts waiting. A quick call to dispatch and she learned that nothing had changed: A.J. was still missing.
Groaning, she got out of bed and dressed quickly in a bathing suit. A swim would help clear her mind for work. In order to beat the summer beach traffic, she needed to hit the sand early. And a swim would not only fit into her training schedule; it would energize her mind. The Maui Channel Swim, at 9.5 miles, would be the longest swim she’d ever competed in. She had managed to swim to safety after jumping from a speeding yacht to avoid being shot somewhere in the middle of the channel between Catalina and the Las Playas harbor, but she estimated that was only two or three miles. There was no way to be certain how far she had traveled that night.
With Nick’s encouragement and his promise to be in a support boat while she swam ringing in her ears, she’d mailed off an entry. It was meant to be a relay race, but there were twenty slots available to those who wanted to swim solo. She’d made it just in time to be number twenty. Her training had been going great until Nick’s therapy went south. Every time she was in the water, she swam with the intention of competing in the race, but now pain pierced her as she realized this was something else Nick was backing out of. Now that he wanted a break, would she do the swim without him?
I still want to, she thought, but will it be the same without Nick there? Will anything be the same without Nick there?
“Enough,” she muttered. Life goes on. Covering herself with a big T-shirt, she gathered Maddie, and together they jogged to the beach. Maddie would wait patiently on a towel while Carly completed her swim.
Carly’s mood improved immensely as she reached the sand. She loved the water and often found that the ocean soothed whatever ailed her. Today it was worry about A.J. and stinging memories of Nick’s wanting a break that caused her pain, but she vowed to think of the race and only the race once she hit the water.
She stripped off the T-shirt and ran into the waves, trying to leave the emotional pain on the sand. I got over him once. If I have to, I’ll get over
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