Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(68)
“Farming is rewarding work. My wife is part of our farm system here. She can be proud to know she helps feed the faithful.”
He pulled up beside Eve’s car.
“I hope you enjoyed your visit.”
“It was illuminating,” Eve said as she hopped out of the cart.
“An enlightened mind and spirit lead to order.”
“So do truth and justice.”
When Eve got into her car, when the cart rolled silently away, the guard came out of the gatehouse.
From his scowl she deduced he hadn’t enjoyed the theft-repellent shock that had likely knocked him off his feet when he’d tried to break into her DLE.
She did a three-point turn as he opened the gate, and decided her deduction hit the mark when he shot up his middle finger.
She found that a bright side to an ugly visit.
“They color-code them!” Peabody exploded. “They color-code them by race! Did you see that?”
“I’ve got eyes, Peabody.”
“Every group of kids I saw was color-coded and segregated by race. Jesus Christ, Dallas, and they’re all just fine with that? And that woman with the two little girls, doing all that weeding. I didn’t see anybody else out there, and it would take hours and hours to weed all those beds. Did you see that? Did you see? And those women who came out with their stupid tea? They didn’t even look up, heads bowed like—like slaves in their damn color-coded uniforms.”
Eve let Peabody rant. It was a damn good rant, and she wanted some distance. Enough to be certain nobody tried a tail.
“And that cart guy? His parents are in the farm system? ‘System’? And his wife, too. And he was proud of it! I wanted to punch him in the head. I wanted to punch them all in the head. That fucking fuck Wilkey with his holy bullshit.”
When she satisfied herself they were clear, Eve pulled into the parking lot of some fancy suburban shopping center.
“What? Why are you stopping? Are we going back to punch them in the head? Can we kick them in the balls, too?”
“If only.” Eve hitched up to pull the twist of paper out of her pocket.
“What’s that?”
“It’s what the woman dropped in my lap when she set out the glasses for the stupid tea.”
“I didn’t see that. I was sitting right there.”
“I’m willing to bet she practiced.” Carefully, Eve twisted it open, did what she could to smooth it out.
I am Ella Alice Foxx
5/6/43
Brooklyn, New York
“Run the name with that birthdate and birthplace, Peabody.”
“On it. Why didn’t she write a message?” she added while she got to work. “You know, like ‘Help’ or something?”
“If somebody finds this, she maybe gets a slap for it, but she can say it’s just her name. Just a personal reminder of her name. She adds a message, that someone knows she’s trying to communicate with the outside.”
“I’ve got no one with that name born on that day in Brooklyn.”
“Leave out the location.”
Eve got out, took an evidence bag from her field kit, and sealed the note inside.
“Nothing, Dallas,” Peabody told her when Eve got behind the wheel again.
“Run variations. Search for the name Foxx in Brooklyn in that year.” As she spoke, Eve pulled out of the lot. “Try her full name using the birth year without the month and day. Spread it out.”
Eve called up her in-dash, contacted Detective Yancy.
The police artist answered quickly, and Eve heard the sound of cranky New York traffic.
“Are you off shift?” she asked him.
“Not yet. I’m uptown, about to work with a wit. Some asshole tried to snatch her kid. Kid kicked him in the balls, and they both got a good look at him. I’m going to them because the mom’s pretty shook. Apparently the kid’s feeling just fine.”
“I need you to work with another wit after that. I’ll clear the OT with your lieutenant.”
“Who’s the wit?”
“Me, potentially Peabody. I’ll explain later. Give me the address where you’ll be and I’ll send transpo to bring you to my house.”
“I’m only going to be a few blocks from your place. I can get there. I know where it is. I was at your Christmas party.”
“Right. Text Peabody when you’re done. I’m heading there, but I’ll clear you in if we’re not back.”
“Copy that.”
“I’m not getting anyone with the full name that fits, Dallas. On a national search I get some Ella Foxxes, some Alice Foxxes, but nobody in that age range. I’m getting results for the last name in Brooklyn, residents in that year.”
“Copy to my home unit. Contact McNab, and let’s have EDD do a search. Tell him to come to the house.”
Eve went back to the in-dash. This time Roarke’s face filled the screen.
“Lieutenant, heading back from Connecticut, are you?”
“Yeah, and I’m bringing cops into the house. I’ll hit the details later, but I had a woman pass me a note with her name, birthday, and birthplace. Nothing pops on a search.”
“Data in the system can be altered.”
“Exactly, which is why one of the cops is going to be an e-geek. I thought you might want in on that.”