She finished with a cheesy flourish; the crowd laughed and applauded. People started throwing coins and bills in Miriam’s guitar case. She hadn’t anticipated that. “No, no,” she said, rising. “You don’t need to—I’m not—”
“You are despicable,” came a voice right in her ear. Miriam whirled. The hostile woman.
Not hostile. Drunk. Miriam took a step back and bumped into the swing. The guitar strings vibrated as wood contacted metal.
“Exploiting a child to get people to give you money!”
Miriam glanced at the boy—or, more accurately, where he had been a moment ago. Because he was gone.
She dropped Teo’s guitar in its case and sidestepped her antagonist. The child hadn’t gotten far, fortunately, but he was wandering down the lawn toward the riverbank. “Kiddo!” she called. “Superman!”
The woman followed. “You can’t get away. I’ve called the police on you!”
The woman was drunk and crazy. Miriam hurried after Superman, hoping Dicey would get back soon, since she’d left her belongings unguarded at the top of the hill.
But someone else was streaking toward them now: a twenty-something man who looked frantic enough to be searching for a lost child.
Miriam waved him over. “Is this your son?”
“My sister’s kid,” he said, gasping for breath as he pounded out a text. “He has autism.”
“I thought he might. I have to warn you—”
The drunk woman weaved toward them, waving both her glass and her phone while she raved about circles of hell.
“—about that,” Miriam sighed.
“Who are you?” demanded Drunk Lady. Beer sloshed out of her glass, dousing both Miriam and the boy’s uncle. “Cops didn’t know you had an accomplice, did they?”
“Look,” Miriam said, “I wasn’t using him to make money. His uncle has him now. Let it go.”
“Oh no.” Another slosh, this time dousing the boy, who wailed. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere, sister. I called—”
“The cops,” Miriam finished with her. They couldn’t get here soon enough, as far as she was concerned.
“We don’t need cops,” said the uncle, putting his hands on his nephew’s shoulders and tucking the boy close against his legs.
“Hey!” Drunk Lady raised her voice. “Hey, everybody! These two are the kidnappers! This is that kid from the Amber Alert!”
Miriam and the young man both froze, staring at each other open-mouthed. Then his face crumpled into fury. “Back off, you crazy bitch,” he snapped. Superman began to hum, his body rocking. “This is my nephew, and I’m taking him back to his mother.”
“Nice try. Everybody! Everybody!” The woman pointed to the boy. “The kid from the Amber Alert! Help! They’re going to get away!”
The man began to steer his nephew away. He didn’t see the punch coming.
But Miriam did. Instinctively, she leaped into its path.
For being drunk, the woman packed quite a wallop. Without time to brace for the impact, Miriam staggered backward into the pair she was trying to protect. The man nearly fell on his nephew.
When he regained his balance, he swung on the drunk woman, shoving her backward with a snarl. She retaliated with what had to be self-defense training, both of them red-faced and shouting, both oblivious to the child rocking and keening in the danger zone between them.
Damn it, somebody had to think of that poor kid. Miriam reached down and scooped him up to pull him out of harm’s way.
And all hell broke loose.
Screaming. Thrashing. Beating on her. Kicking. Talia’s hat went flying. It caught the stiff breeze blowing off the Ohio River, but before Miriam could go after it the woman slammed her fist into the back of Miriam’s ribcage. She nearly dropped the boy. Her maternal instincts kicking in, she managed to get him safely to the ground.
Then she turned to the drunk woman and punched her in the face.
Which was, of course, the moment the police arrived.
The drunk woman took off running. Why was she running? She was the one who’d called the cops in the first place!
A female officer sprinted after her. In the distance Dicey, laboring down the sidewalk with a panicked expression on her face, nearly got run over. She staggered as the drunk woman shoved her aside and continued on. “Dicey!” Miriam ran to help.
Or at least she tried. Because then there were hands on her elbows, restraining her. More shouting.
And then, the icy burn of handcuffs.
16
THE TINY, WINDOWLESS ROOM had a one-way mirror and a table with two chairs. Normally, fluorescent lighting didn’t bother Miriam, but this one flickered visibly, and with nothing else to listen to and nothing to think about except how she was going to pay for a lawyer who could convince a judge and jury she hadn’t done anything worse than lose her temper …
Well, that electric buzz had her skittering on the end of her last nerve.
She propped her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. If Teo had been there, he would’ve figured out a way to de-escalate the situation, drunk woman or not. Probably he’d have stopped the impromptu mirror-mirror musical revue before it started, in favor of packing up and finding the boy’s parents. Which clearly would have been the wiser course.
The door clicked open. Miriam’s adrenaline surged as the detective who’d questioned her came in with his hands in his pockets. “You’re free to go, Mrs. Tedesco.”
She gaped at him. “Just like that?”
He sat down across from her. “The video corroborates your story.”
Thank God for Dicey’s videography! That video was getting deleted the moment she got her phone back, but still, thank God!
“What about the boy?” she asked. “Superman? Is he okay? Did his mother find him?”
“Yes, they’re all fine. Apparently he wandered away from the playground up by the Roebling Bridge. So at least we don’t have another missing child to find.”
“I don’t understand why she fixated on me.”
He shrugged. “You fit the same general description as the suspect.”
Miriam pressed the heels of her hands to her temples and groaned.
He stood up. “Come on. Your friend is waiting for you.”
Her friend. The friend who’d saved her
