'Then maybe he's still alive.'
'Maybe.' His attempt at sounding hopeful fell flat. Hadley couldn't see why, regardless of Esfuentes's fate, his kidnapper hadn't come after the cash. If the bad guy had been after the money, he would have been pressing the boy from the start. And if he was what the chief didn't want to consider-a serial killer preying on young Hispanics-why wouldn't Esfuentes have told him about the money in hopes of distracting him? 'Don't hurt me, I can give you ten thousand dollars' would have been the first thing out of her mouth.
Over the sound of her children eating-she couldn't help herself, she reached over and wiped Genny's mouth with a napkin-she registered Van Alstyne's silence. She glanced back at him. He and the reverend were watching each other across an expanse of granite and stainless steel. She'd heard they'd been plastered together at the fund-raiser. You couldn't tell by looking at them now, all buttoned up in black and tan. Hadley didn't get repression-if they had the hots for each other, why not just jump in the sack and work it out?-but right now she was grateful for it. If Van Alstyne's mind was on the rector, maybe he wouldn't stop to wonder how good a job Hadley could do as an officer when she hadn't even known where her own kids were.
Reverend Clare wrapped her arms around herself. The chief's hands convulsed. He shifted and blinked, as if he had just remembered Hadley was there. 'Officer Knox. Did you find anything else?'
'Granddad says everything left there is his.' She raised her voice. 'Including two cartons of cigarettes.'
Granddad slammed the refrigerator door shut and brought two cans of soda to where Genny and Hudson were sitting. 'Can't just throw ' em away. You got any idea what a carton costs these days?'
The chief's mouth twitched up. 'Was there anything out of place in the-uh, sexton's closet, Mr. Hadley? Maybe moved around, so as to hide something?'
The janitor shook his head. 'No, sir. And that bag there wa'n't hid. Just hangin' on the hooks where I keep my coat and mackintosh.'
The chief cocked his head toward Reverend Clare. She shrugged. 'I have no idea,' she said, answering a question he hadn't asked out loud. 'I never saw him do anything or go anywhere that might explain ten thousand dollars. He worked here, and he went to the Spanish language Mass at Sacred Heart in Lake George a couple of Sundays with one of our volunteers. That's it. Elizabeth drove him to your sister's place a few times so he could hang out with the men there, but she always brought him right back to the church or the rectory.'
'You said he brought the bag with him from Janet's farm the morning you were attacked.'
'The bag, yeah. What he had in it, I couldn't say.' She frowned at the backpack.
'This much money, I'm thinking drugs.' He leaned on the counter, where bricks of cash lay piled like a bank withdrawal from hell. 'But I'd've laid good money Esfuentes wasn't involved with the trade. So the question is, whose money is this?'
The rector paled. 'Oh, God, you don't think it might be somebody here at the church, do you?'
He shook his head. 'No. I mean, anything's possible, but given that Mexicans dominate distribution upstate and that Esfuentes came up from Mexico just three or four months ago, I've gotta go with that.'
'What if the money doesn't have anything to do with selling pot?' Hadley eased down the island, away from her kids. 'What if it came from… from-' The only other industry she knew that generated large amounts of untraceable cash was porn. She wasn't going to throw that on the table. 'Something else?'
'Like what?'
'Maybe it's money all the men who came north with Amado saved,' Reverend Clare said. 'Maybe they gave it to him to store here because they thought it would be safer. Sister Lucia told me many migrant workers don't put their earnings into banks.'
'Nice idea, but that hardly explains the gun.'
Her face fell. 'Oh. Yeah.'
'Speaking of which, we need to get it back to the station and start the forensics workup on it.' He picked up the plastic evidence bags and thrust them into the backpack. He glanced toward the end of the island, where Genny and Hudson were now shoveling birthday cake into their mouths. 'Officer Knox, do you need some time to take your kids home?'
She could feel her face heat up. 'No, sir. My granddad is supposed to be taking care of them.'
The chief glanced toward Reverend Clare. 'At the church?'
'It's fine if they're here, Hadley.' Clare laid her hand on Hadley's arm. 'It's just a shame-' She glanced at the backpack and bit her lower lip.
'A shame they have to be inside on such a beautiful day.'
'You probably don't know this, being new to town, but Gail Jones, our education director, runs a wonderful day camp for the Millers Kill rec department. Seven weeks in July and August. It's very affordable.'
Eight hundred dollars for two kids. The reverend had a different idea of affordable than she did.
'Told her all about it,' Granddad said. 'She just waved me off. Maybe she'll listen to you, Father.'
Reverend Clare's eyes lit with comprehension. She stepped closer to Hadley, turning her back toward the chief, shutting out the two men. 'Hadley, have you ever heard of the priest's purse?' She spoke quietly, but Hadley could see Van Alstyne prick up his ears. 'That's discretionary money, left out of the budget, that I can use as necessary. No questions asked. We have enough to pay for a couple of summer camp memberships.'
'Thank you,' Hadley said, her voice tight, 'but we'll be fine.' That was it. She was never going to be able to show her face in this church again. She tore herself away from the priest's sympathetic, understanding, unendurable gaze. 'I'm ready to go if you are,' she said to the chief.
Van Alstyne, thank God, just nodded. 'Okay.' He shouldered the backpack before glancing back. 'Clare,' he said.
The rector nodded.
'Keep the doors locked and the alarms up. Here and at your house. I'm going to put you and the church on the patrol sweep for the next few days, so expect to see squad cars a lot more frequently.'
She lifted her chin. 'Can I expect you to check in as well?'
Hadley, hugging Genny and Hudson good-bye, couldn't see the chief's face, but his tone made her think he was talking about something more than police business.
'Oh, yeah,' he said. 'You can expect that.'
V
Another thing about police work Hadley was discovering: it was nothing like the television shows. For one thing, the uniform didn't look half as good on her as it did on actresses. She suspected hand tailoring, and maybe a higher quality fabric than poly/rayon Wear-ev-r. For another thing, scoring a bag of money and a gun didn't immediately open up new avenues for the investigation. Instead, they waited and waited and waited to get a report back from the state ballistics lab.
In the meantime, she went on patrols with the chief or Eric McCrea, and drove her beater down to Albany for Basic, and worked all day on the Fourth of July. She shopped and trimmed Genny's hair and kept a worried eye on Granddad, who was smoking again when he didn't think she'd know and skipping his medication
