“Thank you,” Ramsey said.
They stepped into the car, and Melina pressed three. A tall man in a white coat entered the car and leaned past her to press four. The three stood in silence until the doors opened on the third floor.
“Remember, I do the talking,” she whispered as they stepped out.
“I’m here to not smile,” Agent Ramsey said.
“Exactly.”
At the floor station, she got the attention of a young nurse, Nora, and each showed their identification badges and made introductions.
“Any calls from family?” Melina asked Nora.
“Nothing.”
“Has anyone called the hospital about a young child brought into the emergency room?” It was not beyond the realm of possibility for the driver to worry about the child or, more likely, what she would say.
“No calls. You’re her first visitors.”
“That might change when the media gets this story,” she warned. “Just keep everyone off limits to the girl for her own safety.”
“Of course.”
Melina reached in her backpack and pulled out the stuffed dog. She straightened the crooked eye and arranged the ears so that they dangled neatly around its furry face.
Her mind tumbled back to before the Shepards had adopted her. To the faint outline of a similar stuffed furry companion. She could not say if it had been a dog, cat, or bear, but she knew it had been soft and that when she’d held it close to her nose, the smell had given her comfort.
She rolled her shoulders and head from side to side and practiced a smile before she opened the door to the private room. The overhead light was dim and the shades drawn. A television mounted on the wall broadcast an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants. The girl lay in the middle of the bed, her eyes closed. Dark hair framed her small olive-skinned face. Small lips were pursed, and her brow was wrinkled into a frown.
Melina struggled with the same anger that always threatened to get the better of her when she worked a case involving a child. It was one thing for her to have her abandonment issues. The damage had been done, and she had found a way to make it work for her. But that did not mean every kid had a coping mechanism and everything was going to be all right. She looked forward to meeting the driver of the car and locking his or her ass up.
She pulled up a chair beside the bed as Ramsey stepped back into the shadows. She took the little girl’s hand in hers and for several seconds said nothing as she simply sat.
The girl’s eyes began to roll back and forth under her closed lids, and her body began to twitch. She was dreaming, and judging by the deepening frown on her face, it was not good.
“Elena,” Melina said softly. “Elena, shhhhh.”
The girl shook her head, and a soft cry escaped her lips before her eyes popped open and she looked around the dimly lit room. Her gaze was panicked, reminding Melina of a cornered animal.
“It’s okay, honey.” She heard Ramsey shift, but hold his ground. “You’re safe, Elena. You’re in the hospital.”
The girl turned toward Melina, her eyes still as her grip tightened around Melina’s fingers. She was a stranger to the child, and in any other circumstance the child might have drawn back. But in this moment, she sensed the child was drowning, scrambling to stay afloat. Melina was her life raft.
“You’re okay,” Melina said softly.
The tiny girl was silent, panic turning her liquid-brown eyes brittle. No tears glistened, suggesting this was not the first time she had been left on her own.
“My name is Melina.” Given the girl’s probable bias against cops, she planned to leave that detail out for now.
“I want my mom,” the girl whispered.
“I’m trying to find your mom, but don’t know where to look. What’s her name?”
Elena’s mouth bunched into a frown.
“I’m not mad at your mom. I just want to find her,” she said.
Tears now welled in the girl’s eyes, and several spilled down her cheeks. “You can’t find my mom.”
“I’m pretty good at finding people.” She held up the stuffed dog. “I found this guy.”
“Petey!” Elena released Melina’s fingers and grabbed the dog, closing her eyes as she held the toy close.
“I found Petey,” Melina repeated. “Help me find your mother.”
“You can’t,” she whispered. She hugged the dog close, burying her nose in the soft fur.
“Why not?”
Silence stretched. Melina could feel the girl’s tension, as well as Ramsey’s behind her. The child sensed the agent had suspicions about her mother’s fate.
“Why can’t I find your mother?” Melina asked.
The girl didn’t open her eyes, and when she spoke, her voice was so faint it was hard to understand her. “My mom is dead.”
It was Melina’s turn to be silent for a moment as she digested the words and juxtaposed them against the image of the glass pickle jar and its ghoulish contents. “Honey, what is your mother’s name?”
“Christina.”
“And where did your mommy live?”
“California.” That tracked with the plates on the car.
“Where in California?”
“1040 Litton Lane, Imperial Beach, California. 619-555-1212.”
“That’s your home address and phone number?” She quickly scribbled down the information.
“Yes. Mama made me learn it.”
“That’s very smart of you to remember. When did your mom pass away?”
“On my birthday.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“August twenty-two.”
“That was a couple of days ago,” Melina said. “What happened to your mom, honey?”
“She never woke up that morning.”
“Why not?”
“BB said it was the needle in her arm. It would make her sleep forever.”
“Who’s BB?”
“My friend.”
“Was BB driving the car?”
“Yes.”
“Was BB in a hurry to get somewhere?”
“She was mad.”
“About what?”
“Sonny yelled at her. She yelled back. Mama always said don’t make BB mad.”
“What does BB look like?”
“I dunno. Like BB.”
“Does she have blond or brown hair?” Melina asked.
“Blond. But it’s black on top.”
Melina continued with more questions until she had a fuzzy profile of a middle-aged woman with bleached-blond hair and a taste for fast cars and flashy clothes. “Who is Sonny?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Is Sonny a boy or girl?”
“A boy.”
“Did he seem to know BB?”
“Sonny is her friend.”
“Was Sonny in the car when it crashed?”
“No.”
“Do you know Sonny’s last name? I’d like to call someone that knows you or BB.”
“Don’t call Sonny. He’s scary.”
Her lips flattened into a small grim line, and whatever sense of calm the girl had started to enjoy vanished. “That’s okay. We won’t call Sonny. I promise.”
The girl shook her head. “Promises break.”
“Not mine.” Melina’s clear, direct tone did not allay the child’s fear. “Where is BB?”
“She had to run for help. She told me not to worry and she would be back.” The girl twisted the fur on the dog’s floppy ear.
“Do you know why the car wrecked?”
“BB was driving really fast.”
“Did she try to stop?” Melina asked.
“I dunno. We just hit something hard.”
Who left a kid in a wrecked car? BB sure as hell had not called the cops or paramedics. Melina smiled at the girl. “BB was right. Help did come. She sent me.”
The girl studied her, and though there was no hint of a smile, some of the tension straining her face eased.
“I’m tired. I want to go home.”
“I’ll find BB, okay?”
The girl nodded.
“Until I do, you stay here with Petey and watch SpongeBob.”
“Will you come back?” Skepticism and hope both flashed in the young gaze.
“I will be back. And remember, Elena, I always keep my promises.”
The little girl’s lip stuck out and trembled. “I don’t believe you.”
Six-year-olds should not know that kind of distrust. But too many did. Melina tugged off her watch and handed it to the girl. “Keep this for me, and you can give it to me when I get back.”
“It’s mine?”
“Until I get back. Then I’ll need it.”
Elena traced the clock’s face with her small index finger. “I’m going to keep it if you don’t come back.”
At this stage, she did not want to ask the child about the jar of severed fingers. If the forensic team and medical examiner couldn’t tell her more, then she might have to ask the child about them. “I know. You’re a smart girl. But I’ll be back tonight.”
“Okay.”
Melina patted the girl on the hand, smiling even as she pushed back fresh waves of anger and frustration. She rose, and as she turned, the girl grabbed her hand.