Chapter Eleven
Raissa snapped her phone shut and stared out the windshield of Zach’s car as they drove down the highway back to New Orleans. Zach looked over at her, and Raissa knew he was waiting to hear what was said in the phone call, but she wasn’t sure how to relay the information without his going ballistic. And then there was the whole Helena angle. He definitely wasn’t ready for Helena. No one was.
“Was that Maryse?” he asked finally.
“Yeah. Fields showed up at Sabine’s shop earlier.”
“Was there a problem?”
“Not really,” Raissa said. “Maryse deflected him by saying Sabine was out of the country. He left his card. My guess is, Fields is done with Mudbug.”
“So what’s the problem? And don’t even try to say there’s not one. I saw the expression on your face, and that conversation was far too long to just be chatting about Fields.”
Raissa rolled the story Maryse had told her around in her mind. How the hell was she supposed to explain it to Zach when a key component was a photo-snapping ghost? Finally, she blew out a breath and told him about the black car at the end of the street.
“Did Maryse get a look at the driver?” Zach asked.
“No, but she might have a photo.”
Zach raised his eyebrows and Raissa shook her head. “It’s a long, complicated story going back months, and I’d rather explain the details when I can show you myself. Maryse is on her way to a drugstore in New Orleans right now to get the film developed. One of those one-hour joints, so she can meet us somewhere in the city or back in Mudbug.”
“What are you going to do about your car?”
“Nothing, right now. It’s obviously not safe to drive.” She waved her cell phone. “I’m glad I maintained an untraceable cell phone, or they’d likely be tracking me that way, too.”
Zach shook his head. “This is all a bit much. I made detective five years ago, and I’ve never seen such cloak-and-dagger stuff in my life. I don’t know how you’ve lived this way for so long. Hell, my captain’s on the verge of a stroke and he’s not even facing an opponent like Sonny Hebert.” Zach sighed. “But in his defense, this case could cost him his job if it goes wrong.”
Raissa looked over at Zach. “What do you mean? I know there’s pressure on the department because it’s the mayor’s granddaughter, but that’s status quo for this sort of situation.”
“Not exactly.” Zach hesitated for a moment, then decided that given Raissa’s deductive skills, she might be able to help. He told her about his talk with the captain that morning and his subsequent visit with the Francos.
Raissa listened to the story, her eyes widening until he got to the part about talking to Peter Franco, and then she frowned and shook her head.
“Why are you shaking your head?” Zach asked.
“That’s not right.”
“What part?”
“That Melissa wasn’t ever sick. Once a month, her mother took her to a specialist who has an office across from my shop. They usually stopped in my shop and bought Melissa candles.”
“You’re certain?”
“Of course, I’m certain. I’ve seen them once a month for probably six months or more. That’s why I was so upset when I saw the details of the kidnapping on the news. This one was almost personal in a way, because I knew the victim.”
“Why would the father lie?”
“I have no idea. Maybe we should ask?”
“If he’s lying, he’s not likely to tell the truth just because I ask him to.”
Raissa shook her head. “Not him. The doctor.”
Zach frowned and started to speak and she waved a hand to cut him off. “I know doctor privilege and all that, but this is the mayor’s daughter who’s been kidnapped. If the doctor knows something, he might tell us.”
“No way. You’re not going anywhere near your shop. One of Sonny’s guys is probably watching it, not to mention the Agent Fields problem.”
“I can handle Fields, and the FBI can’t make me do anything. I’m not under arrest.”
“Sonny’s guys can probably make you do plenty, starting with giving up breathing.”
Raissa turned in her seat to face him. “Who do you think stands a better chance against them—me or Melissa Franco?”
Zach rolled the options around in his mind for half a second. “Shit.” He turned at the next red light and headed toward Raissa’s shop. Raissa pulled off the wig and tried to fluff her hair into some semblance of normal.
A couple of cars were parked on the street outside of Raissa’s shop, but none was a black Cadillac. She pointed across the street. “That’s the office.”
Zach pulled over close to the building and parked at the curb. A man in his sixties with black and silver hair stepped outside the door and turned to lock it. “That’s him,” Raissa said, pointing at the man locking the door. She checked the street, then jumped out of the car.
“Dr. Spencer,” Raissa called as the doctor slipped the keys in his pocket. He turned around and gave her a wave.
“Hello, Raissa. I haven’t seen you in a while. Did you finally take a vacation?”
Raissa walked over to the doctor, Zach close behind. “Hardly,” she replied. “But a friend did—her honeymoon, in fact—so I’m filling in at her shop.”
The doctor smiled. “That’s nice.” He gave Zach a curious look, then looked back at Raissa. “Well, my wife has dinner on the table, so I better run.”
“Actually,” Raissa said and pointed to Zach, “this is Detective Blanchard with the New Orleans Police Department. He’d like to speak with you about Melissa Franco.”
Dr. Spencer’s eyes widened. “The kidnapped girl? Why would you want to speak to me?”
“Because,” Zach said, “you treated her, but her father clearly stated to police that his daughter had never been sick. I want to know why he would think that.”
Dr. Spencer shook his head. “You’re mistaken. Melissa Franco was never a patient of mine.”
“I saw her here,” Raissa said. “Once a month. She and her mother always stopped in my shop after they left your office.”
Dr. Spencer appeared flustered. “I’m sure if you check my rec ords, you’ll see I’m telling the truth. I’ve never treated Melissa Franco. I didn’t even know the name until it was on the news.”
Zach narrowed his eyes at the man. It was so clear he was lying, but about what part? “Dr. Spencer, there are other eyewitnesses who put Susannah Franco and her daughter in your office,” he lied, “so you can either tell me what’s going on now, or I can drag you down to the station, and we’ll take all night to go over it.” Zach pulled the handcuffs from his waist. “Your choice.”
Dr. Spencer paled. “You don’t understand.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Zach said. “And I need to understand. Rest assured that I don’t care what you were doing here as long as it had nothing to do with Melissa Franco’s kidnapping, but I do have to know what you were doing. So what was it—were you having an affair with Susannah Franco?”
“Good Lord, no,” Dr. Spencer said. “I’m a happily married man, and Susannah is young enough to be my daughter.”
“That’s never stopped ’em before,” Raissa said dryly.
Zach shot her a warning look and turned back to the doctor. “Good. See, this isn’t so hard, is it? So you weren’t sleeping with Susannah Franco. Were you treating her?”
Dr. Spencer sighed. “No. I was treating Melissa, but I swear I didn’t know that was the child’s name until I saw her on the news. Her mother gave a fake last name. Paid cash.”
“Isn’t that unusual?”
“Yes and no. Susannah said their church took up a collection each week for Melissa’s visits. It’s not that uncommon among some of the churches here.”
“And you never noticed that their clothes or jewelry didn’t match the charity claims?” Zach asked.
“Well, no. They were always clean and tidy, but never overdressed or even dressed fancy. The mother always had on jeans and a top. The child had on the type of cotton clothes that children wear. I never saw any expensive rings or other jewelry.”
Zach looked over at Raissa for confirmation and she nodded. The doctor was right. There was nothing about them that automatically made one think “wealthy.” Even Raissa had never caught onto their status during the shop visits.
“I apologize, Detective,” Dr. Spencer said, “but the reality is, if Ms. Franco was carrying an eight-hundred-dollar handbag or wearing a two-hundred-dollar polo shirt, I’d be the last to know. My wife does all the shopping for our household.”
“So let’s just say you didn’t know,” Zach said. “Melissa’s picture has been plastered all over the news. Why didn’t you come forward then?”
“What could I possibly know that could help the police?”
“I find all this secrecy disturbing. You’ve never met Peter Franco?”
“No. Ms. Franco claimed she was a single mother. She didn’t wear a wedding ring, so I had no reason until recently to suspect otherwise.”
Raissa stared at the doctor. “But, Doctor, this is the part that I don’t understand. It’s one thing for Susannah Franco to hide her identity, but Peter Franco told the police that his daughter has never been sick. Are you trying to tell us the man doesn’t know his own daughter is ill? How can that be? Why wouldn’t Melissa tell him about the treatment herself?”
A hint of red crept up Dr. Spencer’s neck. “Because we didn’t tell her what was really wrong with her.”
Zach threw his hands in the air. “Well, why the hell not?”
Dr. Spencer took one step back, clearly unnerved by Zach’s obvious exasperation. “Her case was mild. Even the treatments weren’t making her sick. Her mother said as long as the disease remained that way there was no use scaring her.”
“So what, exactly,” Zach asked, “did you claim you were treating her for?”
“Allergies. It’s something that requires some blood drawn, regular care, and daily medication.”
“And it doesn’t bother you in the least that this woman obviously used you for her own purposes?”
Dr. Spencer gave Zach an apologetic look. “I wasn’t trying to create a smoke screen for a crime spree, Detective. I only wanted to save a little girl a lot of worry, if it wasn’t necessary. I know it’s not the most ethical thing to do, but the mother really had the final word on the matter since Melissa is a minor. I was certainly unaware of all the other subterfuge.”
“You said she takes medicine daily,” Raissa said. “How much damage will be caused by her going without it?”
Dr. Spencer shook his head. “There’s no way to know for sure, but the medication seemed to curb newly developing symptoms and relieve previously developed others. The longer she goes without the medication, the greater the chance she’ll suffer a lot for it.” Dr. Spencer pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to Zach, clearly worried. “If you need anything else, or when you find her, please call me. She’ll need special care.”
Raissa shot Zach a grim look. No further explanation was necessary.