“Janis is terrified of the woman. She told us Gertrude wouldn’t give a second thought to blowing up the building, even with her own daughter in it.”
An invisible hand squeezed Aubrey’s gut. What if this madwoman decided she’d gotten what she wanted and blew up the building with Mama and Ethan in it?
Smolleck met Aubrey’s eyes. He gave her a little nod, letting her know he understood what was at stake. He was doing what he could. Hold it together, he told her without words.
He turned to the detective. “I need to speak with Hendrix myself.”
“I’m not sure you’ll get much more from her right now,” Gonzalez said. “She talked up a storm, then went silent, almost catatonic.”
“Did she tell you how she got Ethan to leave the carnival with her?” Smolleck asked.
Gonzalez nodded. “She told us she put on the gray wig she’d worn when she babysat for him in LA and waited for him to be alone. When she saw Ethan come out of the fun house, she told him both his grandparents were in the parking lot. He trusted her because she’d babysat for him. Once behind the carnival and out of sight, she injected him with Versed.”
“My God,” Aubrey said. “He’s being drugged?”
Smolleck frowned. “Then how could Ethan have hidden from her at the time-share?”
“Janis told us since bringing him to the apartment, she used only small doses of Valium,” Gonzalez said. “Then she didn’t give him anything after the first day because Ethan was very cooperative. He’s been eating well and seemed happy enough watching movies in the bedroom.”
Eating well. Watching movies. But that didn’t free Aubrey of guilt. Ethan had been two floors above her yesterday. How could she have not known? She went over in her mind if there had been any indication, any hint, of his presence. But she was certain not even her father had realized how near Ethan had been to them.
“Why did Janis do it?” Aubrey asked. “What kind of person agrees to kidnap a little boy and keep him captive?”
“I wish I had an answer for you,” Gonzalez said.
The detective had no other useful information about Janis or Ethan. Smolleck asked her to call him when Janis was communicative again. He wanted to interview Star’s daughter himself.
After Gonzalez left, Smolleck took another call. Aubrey absorbed what the detective had told them and tried to focus on the positives. Ethan was alive. He had been alert enough to sneak out of the bedroom and hide. But where was he?
Then the negatives crept into her head. Janis was terrified of her own mother and believed Star would have been willing to sacrifice her. That meant if they didn’t find some way to persuade Star to walk away from this, Aubrey’s mother and nephew were doomed.
She glanced over at Smolleck, who was scribbling down notes, his cell phone held to his ear by his shoulder. He got off the phone, and she tried to read the tense expression on his face.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s what we have on Gertrude’s brother.”
Wings fluttered in Aubrey’s abdomen. They had found something.
“Willis Morgenstern was reported killed in action in June 1968 at the age of nineteen.”
Aubrey thought about the timing. Gertrude would have been seventeen when her brother died, an impressionable age. Which explained the dog tag Gertrude never took off.
“Shortly after his death, a soldier who had served with Willis contacted the Morgensterns and told them Willis had been killed by friendly fire. The Morgensterns filed a complaint and demanded an investigation.” Smolleck paused. “The government refused to investigate and denied the soldier’s story.”
Aubrey was beginning to understand the woman’s psyche. “Gertrude would have been incensed about the government sending her brother off to fight, getting him killed in friendly fire, then denying its role.”
Smolleck tensed. She remembered he had been a marine.
She continued. “It might explain why she became a revolutionary and believed violence was the answer.”
“Possibly,” Smolleck said. “But how can we use this information now?”
“By telling her the government made a mistake. By apologizing and reassuring her the case will be reopened so she can finally get justice for her brother.”
“We can’t make those promises,” Smolleck said.
“Jesus,” Aubrey said. “So lie. Stretch the truth. My mother’s and nephew’s lives are at stake.”
Smolleck looked at McDonough. “What do you think?”
“I’ll try anything,” McDonough said. “The problem is, Star’s not picking up when I call, and she hasn’t been checking her messages.” He glanced at his watch. “I can call her again.”
“Well, let’s see if she answers this time,” Smolleck said.
McDonough hit the “Call” button. Aubrey could hear it ring, just like the last few times, then go to voice mail. “This is Star Matin. Please leave a message.”
“Please call back, Ms. Matin,” McDonough said. “We want to talk to you about your brother, Willis.” He hung up and looked at Smolleck, his expression defeated. “She has Diana. I think she’s finished with us.”
Aubrey’s gut cramped. She couldn’t accept this was the end. That Gertrude would have her confrontation with Mama, then go out with a final blast, taking Ethan with them.
“There’s something else we can try,” Aubrey said.
Smolleck and McDonough both turned to her.
“Let me call her from my cell phone.”
“Why would she take a call from you?” Smolleck asked.
“Because I’m Di Hartfeld’s daughter. Because Gertrude is obsessed with everyone in my mother’s life, and she’ll be curious to hear why I’m calling.”
“And if she takes your call?” Smolleck asked.
“I’ll talk to her about her brother.”
Smolleck shook his head. “You’re not a qualified hostage negotiator.”
“But I won’t be negotiating,” Aubrey said. “And I’ve taken dozens of behavioral-psychology and related courses. I can do this.”
McDonough rubbed his bald scalp.
“Let me try,” she said. “We have nothing else.”