When Reed turned on Fulton, the hairs on the back ofhis neck stood up at the sight of a Berkeley patrol car parked in front ofAnn’s mother’s house.
Ann was sitting at the kitchen table, talking througha crumbled tissue to a uniformed officer who was taking notes.
“Oh Tom!” she sobbed, hugging him tight. Letting himknow that she needed him. Truly needed him. Reed’s eyes stung. When was thelast time he held Ann in his arms?
“Mr. Reed?” the officer asked.
“Yes.”
“Officer Pender, Jim Pender, Berkeley PD. We’vealready got a description of your son out to radio cars. I’d like to talk toyou.”
“Certainly.”
“Alone, please, sir.”
Pender was a tall, black officer, at least six-four.He had a cropped goatee and exuded calm capability. His utility belt andholster gave leathery squeaks when he stood, his polished badge over his heartgleamed. The shoulder mike of his radio crackled, and Pender turned it down asthe two men talked in the living room.
“Tell me what you think happened, sir.” Pender saidsoftly.
Reed told him everything. The officer’s eyebrows shotup when he told him he was the reporter behind the Tanita Marie Donnercontroversy and had been fired that morning. When Reed finished, Pender said,“Okay, there’s stress in your household. Zach overhears his parents arguing anddecides to head out on his own. To his friends in San Francisco, you figure?”
Reed nodded. “Or my place in San Francisco.”
“Okay, we’ll add this new info to the alert we’vealready got out on your son. We’ll notify SFPD and campus police.” Penderchecked his notes as they returned to the kitchen where Ann sat, face buried inher hands.
“Mrs. Reed, we’ll do everything we can to find Zach,”Pender said. “I’ll ask you both again to try and put yourself in his shoes. Isthere any material thing he wanted, a type of toy or something? Or any place hewanted to go, an arcade, a certain movie? Or any individual he would turn to?Give it some thought that way.”
The Reeds agreed.
“Most kids who run away mad at Mom and Dad turn upwithin a few hours, especially the young ones,” Pender said.
Ann tried to smile, but swallowed it. “At least thepolice shot the kidnapper yesterday in San Francisco,” she said.
Pender nodded, but Reed caught something in his face.
“If the family is going to look for Zach, please keepsomeone here in case he returns or more information surfaces. I’m going to callthis in. Then I’d like to search the house. Sometimes kids will crawl into ahiding spot to cool off for a while.”
“Thank you, officer.”
“Ann.” Reed took his wife’s hand. “I’m going to searchthe area between here and the BART station. I’ll call you every few minutes.”
“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible.
“We’ll find him, Ann, I swear. ” Reed hugged her, thencaught up with Pender outside. He was in his cruiser entering his notes intohis mobile computer terminal.
“What’s up, officer?”
“How do you mean?”
“Your face registered something a moment ago when mywife mentioned SFPD shooting the kidnapper.”
Pender contemplated whether to tell Reed whatever itwas he knew.
“You’re a police reporter, right?”
“That’s right.”
Pender scratched his goatee. The police radio blurtedcoded dispatches. “You reported on the big abduction cases of Danny Becker andGabrielle Nunn across the Bay, right?”
“That’s what got my ass fired, officer. Please.”
Pender tapped his pen on his notebook, thinking.“Okay, I’m going to show you something. Get in.”
Reed slipped into the passenger side, watchingPender’s big hands dwarf the computer’s tiny keyboard as he typed in commands.“SFPD and the FBI put out a new alert on the case. It’s hot. I got it justbefore I got this complaint. Here you go. Says the task force now has a numberone suspect in the Nunn-Becker cases and they’re hunting him. Ever heard of aguy named Keller? Edward Keller?”
Reed was stunned. “Edward Keller — yes, I, Christ — ”
“Nobody knows I showed you this.” Pender pivoted theterminal to Reed, who devoured the short bulletin.
Edward Keller of no fixed address was wanted on awarrant for the kidnappings of Daniel Raphael Becker and Gabrielle Nunn.
“I was fucking right all along!”
“You know this guy?”
“I met him recently and thought he was weird, so I didsome digging into his past.” Reed shook his head in disbelief.
“Mr. Reed, do you think there’s any link to your son’srunning away and Mr. Keller?”
Reed’s heart stopped. No. There couldn’t be. “No, Ithink it is a coincidence. Zach ran off because he heard us arguing about ourproblems. We had reconciled and we were on the brink of getting back together.Zach wanted that with all of his heart. But it fell apart this morning.”
“I see. You said you started digging into Mr. Keller’spast. Is there anything about him that you know that may be useful to the taskforce across the Bay? Anything we should pass on?”
“No. He’s a lunatic, a Bible thumper. I met him on astory about university research on parents of dead children. He lost three along time ago and babbled about resurrecting them with God’s help. He was nuts.I tried to find him again, but I couldn’t.”
“Why did you want to find him again?”
“I had a gut feeling. But I wanted to find out what Icould about him on my own before going to the task force, having been stungbadly the last time I followed a hunch.”
“Did you go to the task force?”
Reed shook his head. “And I was fired because my paperthought, given my track record, I was dangerous with my theories. It’scomplicated. Look, officer, I’m going to find my son. I have some ideas wherehe might have gone. Any other day, I’d be calling my paper, tipping them withthat alert.” Reed nodded to the computer terminal. “But fuck them. I was right.They were wrong and I don’t work for them anymore. I’ve got more importantthings on my mind.”
Reed moved to leave.
“Hold on there.” Pender was friendly.
Reed waited. Pender stared at him. A streetwise copwith impeccable instincts, he was not going to let Reed leave him.
“Where’s the first place you’re going to look?”
Reed sighed. “Next to us getting back together, Zachwanted to buy a model of a ship.”
“A hobby store then?”
“Thought I’d start with the nearest one.”
“Buckle up.”
“What?”
“There’s one on University. I’ll take you.”
“Officer, I can take myself.”
Pender started the engine and slipped the transmissioninto drive. “I think we should go together, Tom.”
Pender double-parked his cruiser on University at asliver of a store front called Dempsey’s Hobby amp; Crafts. His head camewithin inches of the transom when he and Reed entered. The bald, potbellied,old man who ran the place was on the telephone.
“Yeah, Saturday’s good. Sure — ” he noticed Penderand Reed. “I told you, it’s fine with me … Yes … listen, Burt, I gotta go …Yes, it’s good. Burt, I gotta go now. I’ll call ya later.”
He hung up and spread his hands over the glasscountertop in a bartender’s what’ll-it-be? fashion. He peered over his bifocalswith the unpracticed seriousness of a shopkeeper unaccustomed to adultvisitors, nodding to Pender because the shop was on his beat.
“Hello, Jim. How are things in local law enforcement?”
“George,” Pender said, “I need your help.”
George Dempsey’s eyes shot to Reed, then to Pender.
“This about that gang shooting in Oakland?”
“’Fraid not.” Pender leaned on the counter and intoDempsey’s personal space. “This is Mr. Tom Reed. He’s looking for his son,Zachary.” Pender studied Dempsey’s face. “He may have come in here within thelast ninety minutes. Nine years old and how tall, Tom?”