The sour cherry surprise

“Their van’s parked in the driveway. But I can’t say for sure whether they’re there. Maybe I am just being paranoid. The squirt could be chillin’ in her tree house. Or maybe she went out to Bella’s to feed the kitties. Except her basketball’s still here, and she never travels any distance without it. She’s working on her left-hand dribble.”

“Jen, when is your mom due home?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe.”

“I’d like you to stay put until she arrives. Please don’t go over there by yourself. I’ll check things out from my end and call you back in a few minutes, okay?”

Des hung up and speed-dialed Bella to see if Molly had shown up out there. Got Bella’s machine. Oh, right, today was her yoga class at the senior center from 5:00 to 6:30. Then she and some of the other Q-tips usually went out for Chinese food together. So she wouldn’t be home until at least 8:00. Damn. Next Des tried Bitsy Peck, who thank God was home. Asked her to check the barn for Molly. Bitsy promised she would. Called Des back a few minutes later to say that there was no sign of the girl. Or anyone.

She tried Jen again. “Has Molly come back yet?”

“No…” Jen answered warily. “But Hector’s out on the porch now.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Just sitting there.”

“Is your mom home?”

“She just called to say she won’t be here until at least seven. Dr. Gardiner booked a last-minute appointment. Some old lady with back spasms.”

“Jen, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“What should I do? I can’t sit here and twiddle my thumbs.”

“I was just coming to that part. Go outside and start shooting baskets in the driveway like nothing’s wrong. If Hector waves to you, wave back. And when I get there I want you to act like you were expecting me. Strictly a social call, got it?”

“Not really, but okay,” the girl replied hesitantly. “Des, should I be scared?”

“Be aware. Be prepared. Don’t ever be scared,” she said as she ended the call.

Even though she was terrified herself. Positive that Clay and Hector had taken Molly hostage. Which was precisely the unforeseen circumstance she’d worried about when Cavanaugh had insisted upon holding off for another day. He wanted to see what Clay and Hector’s next move would be. Well, they’d made it. Snatched up that little girl-because the opportunity had presented itself and because she was their last and best hope. They were staring at a murder charge. Sitting on a stash of meth. Surrounded by state troopers. And desperately in need of a bargaining chip. Now they had one.

Molly Procter’s life in exchange for their freedom.

Des knew perfectly well what she was supposed to do next: Call her troop commander and fill him in. But she stopped herself because once she did she’d set off a full-scale siege scenario. And she did not want that. Not yet. Not when she thought she knew how to pry Molly out of there. The higher-ups would never, ever let her make her play once word got out about this.

Dorset was her town. That made this her mess. So there would be no such phone call. Not yet.

She always kept a gym bag full of spare clothing in the trunk. Needed to for all of those times she got drenched or splattered on the job. She pulled over onto the shoulder of Route 9, fetched it and climbed into the back seat. Stripped off her uniform. Changed into a pink polo shirt, jeans and running shoes. Then got back behind the wheel and resumed driving.

They still had the barricade set up on Old Shore Road at the turnoff for Turkey Neck. She passed through that, then through the second cordon where Turkey Neck met Sour Cherry. There was plenty of daylight left. Men were still out there combing the brush for the murder weapon.

“Thought I’d swing by to see how the little girl’s doing,” Des explained to the troopers on the barricades.

Which was fine by them. They didn’t question what the resident trooper was doing there. As for Grisky and crew, well, they might wonder. Maybe go cellular about this unscheduled visit of hers. But by the time everyone had talked to everyone else she would have made her play.

Jen was dutifully shooting jumpers in the driveway, her face scrunched even tighter than usual. Hector was sitting out on the porch watching the trim young blonde dribble and shoot, dribble and shoot. Des had no doubt whatsoever that he was picturing Jen doing these things entirely naked.

Des pulled into Jen’s driveway and got out, her unholstered Sig tucked into the rear waistband of her jeans, shirt untucked so as to conceal it. She waved hello to Hector, who raised a hand ever so slightly in response. Then she called out, “Hey, Jen, where’s my girl?” Keeping her manner relaxed and casual. She was off duty. Not someone to be concerned about. “We’re going to be late for the game.”

“Molly’s around… somewhere,” Jen responded guardedly, chewing on her lower lip. “Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Better find her or we’ll miss the opening tip-off. Did she go home?” Des asked, nodding at Jen encouragingly.

“Maybe.”