Rick Mofina
In Desperation
The third book in the Jack Gannon series, 2011
This book is for
Lou Clancy,
who gave me my first job as a reporter.
DAY 1
1
Cora Martin was propped against two pillows in her bed when she heard a faint noise and put her book down.
Her daughter was asleep down the hall.
Cora listened for half a minute. Everything was quiet. She dismissed the noise as a bird or the Bannermans’ darned cat. The clock on Cora’s night table showed the time: 12:23 a.m. She returned to her book. After reading two pages she began drifting off when she heard another strange sound.
Like a soft murmur. This time it came from a far side of the house.
Cora got up to investigate, groaning. She had to go to work in a few hours. She needed to get some sleep.
Wearing only a cotton nightshirt, she padded down the hall to Tilly’s door. It was partially open, as usual. Her eleven-year-old daughter was asleep on her stomach. One foot had escaped from the sheets. Cora moved to her bedside, adjusted it then took in the room: Tilly’s stuffed toys, posters of Justin Bieber and Cora’s favorite-the drawing of two happy stick figures holding hands, titled
Cora smiled.
Soft light painted Tilly’s face. She was more than a beautiful child to Cora; she was her lifeline, her hope and her dream.
She stroked Tilly’s hair, then went to check the rest of the house. Cora had rented the small, ranch-style bungalow at an amazing rate from a widowed Realtor who didn’t hide her maternal fondness for single working moms and their daughters.
Cora checked the front and back doors then the windows in each room. Nothing was amiss. She reconsidered what she’d heard. It had kind of sounded like someone walking around the house.
She thought of calling the police but pushed it aside for now.
It would be better to check the alarm system. She went to the console on the wall to inspect the indicator lights. Cora wasn’t afraid to check the yard. This was Mesa Mirage, almost hidden among the larger east valley suburbs of metropolitan Phoenix. Mesa Mirage was a tranquil community of retirement villages and golf courses. It didn’t have its own police department, but it was served by the County Sheriff’s Office, supported by volunteer posses and was safe.
Almost crime-free.
Everything was in order, according to the light sequence of the alarm system. Good. Cora was thirsty. She’d get a drink in the kitchen then crawl back into bed and sleep.
Finishing her water at the sink, she touched her fingers to her lips. She had forged a good life here and she would do anything to protect Tilly.
Cora’s attention shifted to the knock on her front door. Who could it be at this hour? Moving through the living room, she looked at the window and glimpsed two uniformed officers at the door.
She opened the door.
In the instant Cora absorbed their grave faces, half in shadow under the porch light, she was pricked by a twinge of unease.
Not the kind of wrong that accompanies a late-night visit by the police, but something darker. She had no time to ponder it.
“Sorry to trouble you, ma’am,” one of the officers said. “We’re checking on the welfare of residents here. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Can you tell us how many people are in your home tonight?”
“Just me and my daughter. Why?”
As one of the officers took notes, a thousand points of concern flashed across Cora’s mind. She glanced to the street for a patrol car, finding a late-model sedan. She didn’t think the two men were with the county or the volunteer posse. She scanned their uniforms for a shoulder patch and found one. But since she really never encountered police, she was not sure if the officers were from Mesa, Tempe, Chandler or Gilbert.
“I’m sorry,” Cora said. “Who are you with?”
“We’re with the task force,” the first officer said. “Ma’am, are there any firearms in your residence?”
“No. I hate guns. What task force? What’s this about?”
“Earlier tonight, an inmate escaped custody, a convicted murderer. He was sighted in this area of the community.”
“Oh my God.”
“I’m afraid there’s a bit more to this. May we come in?”
“Yes, of course.”
Cora let the two men enter her home. Inside, the officers looked around Cora’s living room.
“Where’s your daughter located at this time?” the first officer asked.
“Down the hall, in her bedroom. She’s asleep.”
The officer nodded to his partner.
“We’ll check on her welfare.”
“But she’s fine.” Cora watched the second officer quietly enter Tilly’s room, while the first officer spoke to her.
“It’s routine,” he said, indicating the kitchen. “Let’s go there and I’ll explain.”
The first officer went directly to the sink over the kitchen window that looked out to Cora’s backyard. He pulled a pocket telescope from his utility belt, clenched one eye and gazed through it.
