I already have her name picked out. I didn’t tell him, though. He wouldn’t have understood.

If I’ve unknowingly made any other missteps thus far, they have not come to light as of yet.

I work the ropes. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Only a few more days, and it will all be done. Finally.

I wonder who will break first.

Suspicion and fear will do their work. The suspicion builds and builds with each new move, each new revealed detail. Fear needles its way under the skin, expanding until it can no longer be ignored. Lines are drawn. Sides are taken.

Whatever they think they know or believe is the perfect retaliation; ultimately none of them wants to be the last man standing when this is done.

And yet, someone will.

13

Friday, June 8

8:30 a.m.

Women’s Clinic

Saint Vincent’s Drive

“You’re aware I can’t discuss a patient with you without express permission from the patient.”

Kerri restrained the impatience hammering at her. “I’m aware of the rules of privilege, Dr. Boone. Detective Falco and I aren’t asking you to share information that would breach those boundaries. We only need to know if there is any reason we should be concerned for the physical or mental welfare of Sela Abbott beyond her abduction. We don’t need specifics. Only whether or not there are health concerns that might make her even more vulnerable under the circumstances.”

Boone adjusted his eyeglasses. “I can tell you that the last time I saw Mrs. Abbott, which was one week ago, she was in excellent physical condition.”

Dr. Alan Boone wasn’t much taller than Kerri’s five-six, but he likely outweighed her by a hundred pounds. He had a congenial face and smiled even when he obviously wasn’t happy that representatives from the BPD were in his office. According to Vitals.com, the obstetrician/gynecologist was fifty-eight, had gone to med school right here in Birmingham, and had an overall 4.5-star rating among his patients. Now if only he would play nice.

“No depression problems?” Falco nudged.

Boone sent a pointed look at him. “You are pushing those boundaries, Detective. It might be best if you produced a warrant.”

This was the fork in the road. The place where things could go either way. “Warrants take time, Doctor, and that’s the primary thing we don’t have a lot of at the moment,” Kerri pressed. “Just tell us if she was depressed or if she seemed okay.”

“I would call her state of mind anxious, like most first-time mothers. As for the rest, I witnessed no indication of any mental or physical abnormalities. This is absolutely all I will share without a warrant.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Kerri stood. “Thank you, Doctor.”

As she and her partner reached the door, Boone spoke again. “I sincerely hope you find her alive and well, Detectives. It’s a terrible, terrible situation.”

“It is,” Kerri agreed. “We appreciate your cooperation.”

Falco gave the man a nod and pulled the door closed behind him. “Well, that didn’t give us much of anything.”

“Maybe more than you think.” Kerri took a right in the corridor toward the exit, bypassing the checkout counter.

When they were outside, she went on, “We now know our missing wife has no physical health concerns beyond the pregnancy. And, apparently, no obvious mental health issues.”

Falco considered her conclusion for a few strides, then paused at the driver’s side of his car. “So you’re ready to rule out the possibility that the wife went over the edge and killed her husband and mother.”

“I never thought she did, still don’t. But it’s a scenario we had to consider and can’t completely rule out even now.”

Kerri slid into the passenger seat as Falco dropped behind the wheel. When had she decided that it was okay for him to do all the driving? Just another of those situations where she let go of the tug-of-war. Maybe that was the main reason she had ended up the victim of a cheating spouse. Even when she had understood something was off with her husband, she had let it go. Ignoring the issue was easier than dealing with the constant bickering. She was far too focused on work anyway. But she could not allow that to happen with her daughter. She had to find a way to get their relationship back on track . . . even if it meant allowing her to go to Manhattan for a large portion of the summer. The thought twisted like a knife inside her. Tori didn’t understand that her father was playing a game. He was still upset that Kerri had gotten primary custody, and he would have no qualms about using Tori or anyone else to prove he should have been the one.

Kerri did not want her daughter to be hurt. But maybe this was a lesson she would have to learn for herself.

Her cell vibrated, saving her from having to go any further down that path. She pulled it from her pocket. She had a voice mail. Her phone had been on silent for the meeting with the doctor. She pulled the seat belt across her lap, snapped it into place, and played the message on speaker so Falco could hear too.

“Detective Devlin, this is Martha Keller at Keith Bellemont’s office. He wanted me to advise you that he’s in the office today and will make himself available at whatever time is good for you. Thank you.”

“Well, well,” Falco said with a look in Kerri’s direction. “I guess the vic’s friend is finally ready to talk.”

“Let’s not keep the man waiting.” Kerri was more than ready to hear what he had to say.

Bellemont would hopefully offer a more knowledgeable account of the Abbotts. Attorneys weren’t like other people. They had a different way of looking at things and always searched for the hidden motive. With any luck, that difference would give them a better starting place for this forty-eight-hour-old double homicide.

Law Office of Keith Bellemont

Third Avenue North

Keith Bellemont’s office was in an older and less upscale part of downtown Birmingham, nestled between a floral shop overflowing with greenery and blooms and a small drugstore that had closed years ago, unable to compete with the big chains. An alley ran between the office and the floral shop. The delivery van had nosed up to a dumpster near the side entrance, allowing for easy loading.

Beyond the vintage door with Bellemont’s name emblazoned across it, Martha, the attorney’s office assistant according to the brass plaque on her desk, greeted them with an offer of coffee or water while they waited. A client had popped in unexpectedly, but the meeting shouldn’t take more than five or ten minutes more.

Declining the offer of refreshments, Kerri sat next to Falco in the stiff upholstered chairs of the small waiting room and stared at the muted television mounted on the wall. A local talk show was discussing the Abbott case. A photo of the happy couple and another of the wife’s mother served as the background. It wasn’t necessary to bump up the volume to know what was being said.

BPD had nothing. No leads. No suspects. The wife remained missing.

The hotline numbers for providing anonymous information flashed on the screen. Information about the reward followed.

A commercial break featuring Senator T. R. Thompson’s run for the governor’s office came next. Seventy-five-year-old Theodore Roosevelt Thompson Sr. was a legend in Birmingham. Like Ben Abbott’s father, Thompson was among the founders of the Magic City. Thompsons and Abbotts had always been part of the movers and shakers in Birmingham. Kerri didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

“Detectives.”

Kerri shifted her attention from the screen to the woman behind the desk.

“Mr. Bellemont can see you now. Down the hall and to your left.”

“Thank you.” Kerri pushed to her feet and headed for the hall. When she and Falco were well past the woman’s desk, Kerri asked, “Did you see anyone go out?”

She was relatively certain she wouldn’t have missed a departing client crossing the small lobby.

“Nope. If there was someone in his office, that person left by another exit.”

When Kerri made the left as directed, she spotted a side exit. She thought of the floral shop’s side exit into the alley. She supposed some of Bellemont’s clients preferred anonymity. No doubt the attorney liked a handy, quick getaway option.

“I guess we have our answer,” Falco said, reading her mind.

The door to Bellemont’s office stood open. He sat behind his desk, surveying the pages of a file spread open before him. Kerri paused at the door, Falco behind her. The attorney looked up, then stood.

“Please come in, and make yourselves comfortable.” He gestured to the two chairs that flanked his desk.

Hopefully these chairs would be more comfortable than the ones in his lobby, not that Kerri expected she and Falco would be here long enough to get comfortable either way. For attorneys, in particular, time was money.

Kerri extended her hand across his desk. “I’m Detective Devlin, and this is my partner, Detective Falco.”