Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

vehicles leaving campus, as well as all entrances and exits over the last two hours.” He hung up before the chief could sputter a protest.

Two hours. Beth and her baby could be anywhere by now. He turned to Leah. “If Beth had provided her details, had insurance to pay, followed all your hospital procedures except she left with her baby before the paperwork was done, would you consider her or the baby at risk? Enough to warrant a manhunt? Because with us already two hours behind, that’s what it will take—we’ll need more than my people, we’ll need state police, maybe even the feds, public service announcements, which means getting the press involved as well.”

Her glare was answer enough, but he needed more. “I’m playing devil’s advocate, here, but to my knowledge Beth hasn’t broken any laws. So unless I can prove to a judge that she and her child are at risk—”

“Luka, she was terrified,” Leah protested.

“Of what? Of who?”

“I don’t know.” Frustration creased her forehead. “What about an Amber Alert for the baby?”

They both knew she was grasping at straws. Amber Alerts were only issued when you had descriptions of the suspects and their vehicle. Otherwise, they only served to alarm the public and alert the subjects that the police were searching for them. “An Amber Alert for his own mother? We have no evidence that anyone else is involved or that they’ve been kidnapped—”

“We have no evidence they weren’t.”

“We also have no evidence that Beth wasn’t delusional. Possibly her fears were a result of a mental illness, not based in reality?”

Leah directed her sigh at the phone where she’d hung up from the social worker. “We should know that—if the social worker did a proper consult.”

“And we have no evidence that the baby is at risk, being with her? You said so far everything looked fine, the pediatricians were monitoring him, right?”

“Yes, but…” She trailed off. “I can’t prove anything, but Luka, trust me, I know, I just know. This isn’t a case of a woman who mistrusts doctors or modern medicine. She was truly, genuinely terrified. She didn’t just leave. She ran.”

“There’s not much I can do, legally. But I’ll review the hospital security footage, see if we can identify how she left, if she used a vehicle. And if she was with anyone.”

“It’s been two hours. She could be anywhere. If she has a car, she could be in Pittsburgh, Philly, New York, DC, Baltimore. And from there—”

“She doesn’t have any ID, a credit card or a phone,” he reminded her. “She has no money. So wherever she went, her first stop would need to be to get those things.” Unless Beth had other plans for herself and her baby. For some reason all he could think of was Spencer’s suicide plan—throwing himself off a bridge. Luka envisioned Beth and her baby sprawled at the bottom of a ravine. “You knew her better than anyone. Do you think she’d hurt her baby?”

Leah’s eyes went wide. “No. No.” If the first denial was vehement, the second was a little uncertain. “No. I don’t think so. She seemed totally focused on the baby’s safety. She was afraid someone was going to take him.”

The buzzer sounded—the social worker waiting to be admitted. Leah saved Luka the pain of getting his crutches and went to let her in. “I’m Dr. Leah Wright and this is Detective Sergeant Luka Jericho.” She made introductions as they all took seats in the narrow charting area.

“Lise Haywood.” She sat hunched forward, hugging a binder to her chest. She was younger than Luka had imagined from her voice, but the expression in her eyes—that, he recognized; he’d seen it too many times in cops. Burnout. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I did my job. That’s all.”

“You showed up for work and you’ll get paid for your hours, but as to doing your job—” Leah snapped, surprising Luka. He caught her eye, reminding her that despite the unusual circumstances, this was still a witness interview. Funny, because he’d seen her face down a man with a gun without flinching or losing her calm. But the idea of someone letting down one of her patients sparked her fury.

“Look.” Haywood’s tone was one of aggrievement. As if she’d heard this before. Or maybe she felt guilty. “Talk to my supervisor, if you’ve got a complaint. You know how many—”

“All we want to know,” Luka put in, keeping his voice low and friendly, “is about this one case. Your professional impressions. We need you to be our eyes and ears.”

Haywood shifted in her seat, focusing on Luka, her back to Leah. She opened her binder, her gaze never raising from its scrawled notes. “Okay, then. I found her to be calm, attentive and caring for her infant, with no suicidal or homicidal ideation. No obvious cognitive defects or signs of delusions or psychosis. She simply refused to give any identifying information. I’m not sure whether that’s not within her constitutional rights, by the way. I mean, if she was Amish, we wouldn’t be hassling her for wanting to leave as soon as possible or even insisting on a home birth. And it’s not my job to ensure that she is able to pay her hospital bill. So, without any further cooperation forthcoming from her, and no signs of any mental illness that might pose a risk to mother or child, my assessment was completed.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Leah interjected. “What about discharge planning? Transportation? Money for food? Adequate housing? Were you planning to let her and her baby leave with nowhere to go?”

“No.” Haywood ignored Leah, speaking directly to Luka. “My plan was, since the baby was being monitored for forty-eight hours for possible GBS infection, I was going to return later today and focus our next meeting on the infant’s needs upon discharge. I had no indication that mother and child would abscond prior to that meeting.” She stood, her grip on her binder white-knuckled. “I really can’t