Kara looked back at Sherlock, ran her tongue over her dry lips. “Imagine, you’re Dillon’s wife. I remember now, you saved so many people that day at JFK. I’ve never been a heroine.”
“You’re wrong about that, Kara. Both Dillon and I admire you immensely. You were alone and a madman forced his way into your house, yet you were calm and focused because you knew you had to be to protect Alex. And then you went into labor.”
Sherlock felt Kara squeeze her hand, a small movement, but she felt it, just as she heard the whispered thank-you. She felt compassion mixed with hot fury. She couldn’t imagine what she would have done if someone had stolen Sean—out of the hospital nursery where even she, a hard-nosed FBI agent, had trusted everyone to keep him safe.
Sherlock leaned in. “Kara, it’s time to say goodbye to never-never land and bring yourself back to me. Blink your eyes, that’s it, and don’t look away from me. You have to help me find Alex. Can you tell me what happened?”
“Yes, I can do that.” Kara shook her head to clear her brain. Sherlock saw her fingers pulling on a loose thread of the afghan spread over her hospital gown.
She told Sherlock about the nurse who’d come in to take Alex, how she’d come back carrying Alex and laid him in the bassinet. “She assured me everything was fine, he was a champ, and he even slept through the treatment and he was still sleeping. I should be patient and let him sleep, and she left.
“I tried to be patient, but I couldn’t wait, you know? Well, maybe ten minutes and then I had to see him, had to hold him. I’d let him sleep if he wanted to. So I got out of bed and walked over to the bassinet to get him.” Her voice fell off a cliff, her breathing hitched.
Sherlock squeezed her hand to bring her back. “The nurse, she was carrying him?”
Kara nodded. Another tear slid down her cheek. “How could she do this? How could anyone do this?” She fell silent, twisting her hands, whispered, “I was so happy. Alex was healthy and he was mine. Even that awful thing that happened to me, that crazy man, none of it mattered. Everything was about Alex.”
She went still, began shaking her head back and forth. Then she whispered, stumbling, as if saying the words aloud would make her believe them. “Alex wasn’t—he wasn’t there. It was a pile of blankets and towels, but Alex wasn’t there.”
Sherlock wanted to hug her, to weep with her, but she managed to keep her voice matter-of-fact. “Stay with me, Kara. The nurse who took him, had you seen her before?”
“I didn’t really look at her or at her name tag, but I do know I hadn’t seen her before.”
Sherlock brought up a photo on her cell phone from the security video Savich had uploaded to the CAU. “Is this the woman?”
Kara stiffened all over. “Yes, that’s her. How could she? She was nice; she was friendly. How could she steal my baby? Who is she? What’s her name?”
“We’ll know soon who she is. You told Dillon she had a limp.”
“Yes, it was slight, like she’d hurt her left foot.”
“Kara, the FBI CARD team is in charge now. They’re experts; they specialize in finding babies stolen out of hospitals. Trust me on this: there are no better people in the world to help us find Alex.”
Kara Moody didn’t look like she believed her.
Sherlock wondered how much to tell her, then decided Kara deserved the truth. She looked up to see Dillon and Agent Haller in the doorway, obviously listening. For how long? Dillon remained silent, nodded to her.
Sherlock turned back to Kara. “Kara, this wasn’t some sort of baby kidnapping ring. There was a reason Alex was taken, and we believe it has something to do with John Doe, the man who forced his way into your house yesterday and is being guarded now downstairs. Did he tell you anything that could help us, anything you could understand?”
“Wait, wait—Alex was taken because of him, that poor, crazy young man? I don’t understand.”
“We don’t, either, yet, but we’ll figure it all out. I need you to think back, Kara. Tell me what you remember.”
“I’ve tried to piece together what he said, but it was all so garbled, so bizarre. I do know he was afraid of someone, and at the same time he was furious. He hated this person or these people. He wasn’t there to hurt me or Alex. He believed he was saving us from something.” She looked at Sherlock. “I’m sorry but there’s really nothing more. Did that help?”
“Yes, it did. Kara, who is Alex’s father?”
14
Kara Moody lurched back as if slapped, then lowered her head, her dark hair curtaining her face. Sherlock pulled Kara’s hair back and hooked it behind her ear again, leaned forward, and took her shoulders in her hands. “Come back, Kara, look at me, talk to me. This is critical. Tell me about Alex’s father.”
Kara raised her head, licked her lips again. “I’m not back in never-never land, Agent Sherlock, it’s that I don’t know who he is.”
That was unexpected. Sherlock said, “You mean you were with more than one man at the time?”
Kara shuddered. “No, no, nothing like that. Here’s the truth. When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t believe it, even argued with the doctor. I had no idea how it happened. He sort of scoffed and asked me if it was an immaculate conception. But it was true; I wasn’t seeing anyone. The doctor tried to pinpoint the date I got pregnant and I remembered my friend Sylvie Vaughn’s party, at her place in Baltimore. It was a catered birthday party for her husband, Josh. When I woke up the morning after the party, I couldn’t remember how I got home. I was ashamed, thought I must have drank too much, maybe passed out. I called Sylvie to apologize, but she said she’d bet a lot of guests didn’t know how they got home. She told me not to worry, I hadn’t taken off my clothes and gotten up on a table to dance. But the thing is, I don’t remember getting drunk, only a couple glasses of wine.”
“How many people were at the party?”
“Thirty, maybe more. I didn’t know most of them, but Sylvie’s right, everyone was having a great time, lots of booze.”
“Do you remember leaving your wine to go to the bathroom? To dance?”
She raised her eyes to Sherlock’s face. “I must have, because I came to believe I was roofied.”
Sherlock tightened her hand on Kara’s. “Yes, it sounds like you were. Back up, Kara, start at the beginning. Tell me what you remember from that night.”
Kara closed her eyes, trying to focus. “I arrived at Sylvie’s condo, greeted a few people I knew, met a few new people, some single guys, some guys with dates or wives, all Josh’s friends. I remember wishing Josh a happy birthday. He kissed me and hugged me, and I wanted to kick him because he tried to put his tongue in my mouth. I got away from him as soon as I could. I never liked him much, and he was already getting drunk.” She stopped, looked utterly vulnerable.
“You’re doing very well, Kara. Go on.”
“I woke up in my own bed the next morning, and three weeks later I was told by my doctor that my nausea wasn’t from a lingering flu. I was pregnant.”
“Did you call the police?”
“And tell them what? I’m pregnant and I think I was roofied because I don’t remember anything? No, I didn’t.”
“Did you tell your friend Sylvie?”
“Again, and say what exactly? Sylvie, I need to know the names of all the guys at your party because I think one of them roofied me and I’m pregnant?”
That’s exactly what you should have done. And called the police. Nine months have passed. Would your friend Sylvie even remember who was there?
“Kara, when you woke up the morning after, was there any sign you’d had sex?”
“No,” Kara said slowly. “And later, when I found out I was pregnant, I wondered how it could have happened at the party, since there were no signs. Unless the man washed me when he was done.” She shuddered. “The thought of that is so creepy, so humiliating. I wanted to find him and kill him, but of course there was no way I could even identify who he was.”