“Avis is in the bedroom,” he said. “Actually, Jordan is in there, too.”
Chapter 83
I SAID to the Richardsons, “Please take the baby to the kitchen. Lie down with him on the floor. Go. Now.”
The Richardsons looked startled, but they did as I said.
I pulled my gun, Rich pulled his, and we flanked the door to the bedroom.
I shouted, “Avis Richardson. Jordan Ritter, this is Sergeant Boxer. It’s all over. Come out with your hands up.”
There was silence, but before Rich could kick in the door, we heard Ritter’s voice.
“Sergeant. We don’t have any weapons.”
The door opened and Ritter came out with his hands up. He hadn’t shaved and his cheeks were sunburned. Even so, he still looked like an ad for an upscale men’s clothing line.
Rich spun Ritter around and flattened him against the wall. He frisked him and was cuffing him as Avis darted out of the bedroom.
Avis had her hands up, too, but she was wiggling one of her fingers to draw my attention to a shiny gold band.
“We got married,” she cried. “Jordan and I got married.”
“Congratulations,” I said as I threw her against the wall with great satisfaction.
Once again, in my heart I wanted to slap this girl. Instead I cuffed her and said, “Avis Richardson, you’re under arrest for child trafficking, neglect of a child, and obstruction of justice. You have the right to remain silent …”
Suddenly a desperate kind of mayhem broke out around me.
Sonja and Paul Richardson swarmed around their daughter, and the baby wailed, then drew a breath and wailed some more.
To my left, Conklin arrested Jordan Ritter for kidnapping and statutory rape. Ritter was yelling, “I want to see my son,” as Conklin read him his rights.
I stuck my face three inches from Ritter’s nose. “Shut the fuck up,” I said.
Next I called for an ambulance for the baby.
“What’s going to happen to Avis?” Paul Richardson asked me as I took the baby out of his wife’s arms.
“She’ll be booked and kept in holding until her arraignment,” I said. “If you want my advice, hire the best attorney you can buy. Maybe he’ll get her tried as a juvenile. I’d also make a few calls and get your daughter’s marriage to this sleazebag annulled.”
Book Four
THE HEARTBREAK KID
Chapter 84
MY EYELIDS FLEW OPEN. I stared up at the information that Joe’s projection clock flashed onto the ceiling. It was October 11. Fifty-four degrees. 6:02 a.m.
I had been in midthought when I’d woken myself up, but what had I been thinking?
Joe stirred beside me and said, “Linds. You up?”
“Sorry to wake you, hon. I was dreaming. I think.”
He turned toward me and enfolded me in his arms. “You remember the dream?”
I tried to backtrack, but the dream was gone. What was worrying