The Perfect Mother(46)



Nell nods. “Can’t really say the same. I can hardly remember to put on pants these days. A bit sleep-deprived at the moment.”

Hoyt grins, a little-boy smile, a look Nell guesses his wife probably finds irresistible. “Let’s see. What else? Oh yes.” He looks up. “Ms. Ross’s video monitor app. Why did you delete that?”

“Why did I—”

“Peek-a-Boo, I believe it’s called? Allows a mother to watch the video monitor remotely. You deleted this app from her phone?”

Nell can feel Sebastian’s eyes on her. She’s been too ashamed to tell him she did that. “It was silly, really. We were just having a bit of a laugh.”

“A bit of a laugh?”

“Playing a joke. Winnie was looking at her phone a lot, watching the baby. The point of going out was to be away from the babies. So when she got up to get a drink, and Colette saw she’d left her phone behind on the table—” Nell tries to keep the tremble from her voice. “Of course I’m gutted about it now. Thinking how the night might have ended differently if I hadn’t done that.” Sebastian takes Nell’s hand, easing his fingers between hers. “And really, she could have easily reloaded the app. It wouldn’t have taken her more than a minute.”

“Is that right?” Hoyt nods, offers a shallow laugh. “Have to admit, I know nothing about how all the gadgets these days work. My eleven-year-old daughter—she’s always making fun of me, saying I live in the Dark Ages. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure my daughter thinks the Dark Ages began sometime around 1995. But she can find her way around my wife’s laptop with her eyes closed.”

Nell doesn’t want to hear about this man’s daughter or wife. She wants him to leave.

“And why did you call Winnie Ross’s cell phone on two separate occasions that night, Ms. Mackey?”

“Why did I—”

“Ms. Ross’s cell phone records indicate that between 10:32 and 10:34 p.m.—just around the time of the abduction, we believe—you called her cell phone twice. Or”—he holds up a hand for clarification—“I suppose I should say, someone using your cell phone did.”

She feels her palm growing sweaty in Sebastian’s grip. Hoyt raises his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation, but she has no explanation. She doesn’t remember doing that.

“Why did you call her phone?”

“I was . . . I must have—”

“How many drinks did you have that evening, Ms. Mackey?”

“I already told you. Two.”

“Right. And Ms. Ross. Do you know how many drinks she may have had that night?”

“You asked me that the other day.” She wills herself to stay measured. “Honestly, who cares?”

“Who cares?”

“Yeah, how is it relevant? I don’t think she drank that night. She was having iced tea. And despite what the mob on cable news might be saying, mothers are still allowed to have a drink if they want.”

“Alcohol can make her story a little less reliable,” Hoyt says, his expression static. “The same goes for you.”

Beatrice whimpers from the nursery, and Nell’s mind clouds as she tries to decipher the cry. Is the baby’s fever back? Is she hungry? She realizes Hoyt is staring at her, waiting for her to say something.

“I missed that,” she says. “What was the question?”

“Was anyone near her when she ordered her drink? Anyone who may have had bad intentions. Who may have slipped something in it.”

“No, not that I saw.” Beatrice whimpers more loudly, sending Sebastian jogging down the hall. He closes the nursery door behind him, and Nell turns toward Hoyt. “While we’re asking questions, Detective, maybe I can ask a few of you.”

Nell sees something flash across his face, but then he steadies his expression. “Shoot.”

“Who’s talking to the press about Alma?”

“Who’s—”

“Yeah, this thing about her being in a baby-selling ring. These whispers that she might have been involved.” Nell knows she should rein herself in, but her anger and impatience take over. “Unless there’s something very concrete you want to tell me, I will swear on my child’s life she had nothing to do with this. You and the people in your department need to stop suggesting otherwise. This could ruin her life.” Nell smiles. “She may be an immigrant, but she’s still human.”

“I’ve suggested nothing—”

Sebastian steps into the hallway, looking worried. “Her fever’s back,” he says. “You should probably nurse her.”

Nell sighs and presses her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying to contain the ache swelling behind them. “Listen, Detective, it’s been great catching up, but my baby needs me. I’m assuming I have the right to ask you to leave?”

Hoyt nods. “Of course you have that right. I’m happy to come back when it’s more convenient. I know how it is with kids.” He rolls his eyes. “I got three of them.”

Nell stands, her legs heavy, and walks to the door. She makes a show of opening it wide. “Then you know how difficult it can be when they’re sick.”

Hoyt pauses a beat. “Of course, Ms. Mackey. It’s not easy. Parenting can be truly overwhelming. Certainly when they’re babies.” His gaze is intense. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

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