Enigma (FBI Thriller #21)(61)
“Okay, how about anything that needed medical care, that required she take drugs?”
“No, sorry. Wait, I do remember that a few weeks before the party Kara showed up to lunch with a huge, ugly bruise on her arm. She told me she’d gotten a call from a local university, I don’t remember which one, asking her to give them a sample of her blood for a study they were doing. They paid her for it, a one-time blood draw; that was it. Obviously whoever drew her blood messed up. Does that mean anything?”
“It’s possible. I’ll ask Kara about it.”
“I’m flying home tomorrow, Agent Sherlock. I don’t have to be back to work until next week. Do you think I could come down to Washington and be with Kara? I haven’t seen her in a couple of months. Do you think it would help?”
“Yes,” Sherlock said, “I think it would, but call Kara, see what she thinks.” Sherlock left Brenda Love to her latte.
She called Agent Butler, filled her in.
When she’d finished, Butler said, “This depresses me, Sherlock. I thought Vaughn was funny, straightforward. Maybe Brenda Love was jealous, made it up, maybe exaggerated?”
“No, I don’t think so. But the fact is, Connie, even though I was suspicious of her, I liked Vaughn, too.”
“But still you put that GPS tracker on her car.”
“Yes.” Sherlock added, “A couple of weeks ago I interviewed a talented up-and-coming sculptor, and I really liked her, too, believed her.”
“It turned out she wasn’t what she seemed?”
“No, not at all what she seemed. I made a vow I’d always err on the side of caution after that.”
“Bolt—Agent Haller—was sure Alex Moody was taken for ransom until he heard John Doe was the baby’s father, and someone tried to murder him last night. He’s coming around to the idea that unlike most of our kidnapping cases, this one isn’t about money, or custody, it’s about something else entirely. None of us on the CARD team has ever dealt with anything so crazy convoluted as this.”
Sherlock paused a moment. “Connie, this is my gut talking, but not entirely. Somehow I can’t help but feel Kara could also be in danger. It’s possible the hospital will try to discharge her soon. If they do, maybe the person or people behind the kidnapping will make some kind of contact with her. I’m not sure, but I’d feel better if Agent Haller stays with her at her house. Brenda Love could stay with her, too.”
“Sounds right to me. Bolt and I will discuss it with our supervisor, see what he thinks, and we’ll get back to you.”
“Where has Sylvie Vaughn been since we left her yesterday?”
“Pretty regular stuff, nothing strange—the grocery store, a small studio on Cline Street where she films her YouTube show Cycling Madness, her yoga class at Bay Watch Fitness Center, and last, she met her husband for dinner at Papa Leoni’s in the Inner Harbor.”
“Nothing suspicious in the Vaughns’ financial records so far, or their phone records. Not as useful now that anyone can buy a burner phone to use. We’ll both keep checking, okay?”
Sherlock got up from her desk to update Dillon, saw through the big glass window that he was working on MAX, probably researching the mystery drug Dr. Wordsworth said they found in John Doe’s blood, seeing what MAX could find in one of the compound libraries.
She knew Kara’s number by heart and punched it in. She caught Kara sitting with John Doe, talking to him again, Kara told her.
“Has Brenda called you back, Kara?”
“Yes. She’s changed her flight to Dulles. I want to see her, but I’m a mess. I hope she’ll understand.”
“She will. She’s very upset about the whole thing. Keep her close, Kara. Can you tell me about the big bruise Brenda said you had on your arm a few weeks before you got pregnant? You gave some blood for a study of some kind?”
“She remembered that? Yes, a woman called me from the University of Maryland, told me their genetics department was conducting a study in population genetics, something about how various athletes are distributed in different ethnic groups around the country. I was picked at random and offered two hundred dollars to give a sample of my blood. It was only for one time, and so I agreed. I swear, though, it was the first time the guy had ever drawn blood. It was brutal. I ended up with a big bruise for a week. Why?”
“Filling in blanks, that’s all. Kara, can you describe the man who drew your blood?”
“Goodness, why, for heaven’s sake?”
“Indulge me.”
“Well, I remember he was a big guy, in his thirties, and as I said, he wasn’t good at it. He suggested he come by the gallery where I worked at quitting time and if I liked, he could draw my blood there. I agreed, seemed easier than going to a lab somewhere. He introduced himself, but I don’t remember his name. He gave me two one-hundred-dollar bills and left. And that was it, I never heard another word from anyone at the university.”
“Do you think you could give an artist a good description of the man?”
“Yes, but why not let me draw him?”
“Excellent. Kara, stay strong. How are you feeling?”
“Still trying to come to grips with the fact that the man whose hand I’m holding right this moment, this stranger I’m telling my life story to, is Alex’s father. I asked Dr. Wordsworth if she believed he could hear me. She said she spoke nonstop to her own mother when she was still unconscious after surgery and when her mother woke up, she smiled and remarked on what a talker she was.” Kara laughed. “Dr. Wordsworth also says he’s still getting better and to keep talking; he’ll be waking up soon. It’s all so crazy, isn’t it?”