BABY JACK WAS CRYING AGAIN. He was not a happy camper and he wanted everyone to feel his pain.
“He gets that from me,” D.D. said. It was 9 P.M. Jack had been crying off and on ever since she picked him up from day care, where apparently he’d spent a very fussy day. No temperature. No spitting up. But he scrunched his face and fisted his hands and churned his legs as if he were jogging a marathon.
So far, they’d given him droplets specially designed to relieve baby gas. Not particularly effective droplets, D.D. thought.
“We could call the pediatrician,” Alex said. He was sitting on the couch, while she attempted to soothe Jack in the rocking chair.
“And admit we don’t know what we’re doing?” D.D. said.
Alex regarded her strangely. “We don’t know what we’re doing. And we’re not the first new parents who harassed their doctors with middle-of-the-night questions. For heaven’s sake, that’s what they’re there for!”
Alex’s unexpected display of emotion finally caught D.D.’s attention. She took in his salt-and-pepper hair, currently standing on end. The dark shadows beneath his eyes. The gaunt lines of his face.
He looked like hell, a man who hadn’t slept in years. Did she look that bad? Come to think of it, Phil had clapped her on the shoulder four times today with clear sympathy. Suddenly, she got it.
“The baby’s winning!” D.D. burst out.
“That would seem a fair assessment of the situation,” Alex agreed tiredly.
“He’s only ten weeks old. How can he be beating us already?”
Alex eyed their squalling son. “Same way youth always conquers age—better stamina, faster recovery.”
“We’re two strong, intelligent, resourceful people. We can’t be defeated by an infant. I was sure we’d make it until he was at least seventeen and demanding his own car. Which reminds me. When he’s three and wants his own cell phone, the answer is no. And when he’s five and wants his own Facebook page, the answer’s also no.”
Alex stared at her, eyes sunken, cheeks unshaved. “Got it.”
“Did you know the target age for Internet predators is five-to nine-year-old boys?”
Alex’s eyes widened. “No!”
“Yep. Big bad world out there. And more of it than you think is sitting in that sleek little laptop on the table.”
Alex ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Well, wasn’t like I was going to sleep tonight anyway. This from your new case?”
“Yeah, got a sex crimes detective, Ellen O, assisting now. She’s an expert on Internet predators, so she and Phil spent the day poring over reports from the computers of the two vics and talking nerd.”
“Find a connection between the two pervs?” Alex asked.
“Many and varied,” D.D. assured him. “Ironically enough, vics’ computers share so many favorite sites, it’s almost impossible to get traction. It’s not a matter of did they run across each other online, but on how many different websites, user groups, and chat rooms. It’s gonna take a bit.”
“Is Neil still going through the photos?”
“Sadly for him, yes. He made it through the first of six boxes and already looks like the walking dead. Gonna need some stress time for sure. I tried talking to him once today, but he’s not ready yet. Just gotta get through it, he told me.” D.D. sighed, thought of her young squadmate with genuine concern, and sighed again. “I almost admire his na?veté.”
She shifted baby Jack to her other shoulder, resumed rocking. Judging by the whimpering in her ear, Jack didn’t like her left shoulder any more than the right.
Alex stood up. “Want me to take a turn?” He gestured to Jack, who churned his feet fussily.