Free Sally Berneathy - Death by Chocolate 01 - Death by Chocolate by Sally Berneathy

door.”
    “She does,” I verified. “She’s a fanatic about locking her doors.”
    Even as the words left my mouth, I realized I was probably making it sound as if Paula had something to fear.
    “Very safety-conscious,” I explained. “Always wears her seat belt. Checks the batteries in her smoke detector. Looks both ways, twice, before crossing the street.”
    Fred kicked my shin before I could make things any worse with my babbling.
    “You’re the next door neighbor, right?” Creighton asked.
    “Right. I’m Lindsay Powell. And this is Fred Sommers. He’s her neighbor, too.” I felt a bit like I was presiding at a tea, introducing everybody, but Creighton merely nodded. “I’ll want to talk to you both in a few minutes.”
    About that time the door flew open , and Adam Trent strode in wearing faded jeans with a denim shirt. Tonight he looked more like a human being and less like a cop. He was big and solid and exuded dependability and self-confidence. I admit, I was even happier to see him than I’d been to see Donald Creighton. Right now we could use somebody who was dependable and confident.
    He looked around the room, those dark, woodsy eyes missing nothing. When he saw me, he lifted an eyebrow. “What’s going on?” he asked Creighton.
    “Missing boy,” he said and filled him in on the details.
    Trent nodded curtly as Creighton finished. “Any signs of forced entry?”
    Forced entry?
    “No thing readily apparent on the front door. Fletcher’s checking the back now.”
    He turned his attention to Paula, and she flinched visibly. If Creighton’s soothing manner had failed to calm her, Trent’s abrasive manner could only make things worse. “Could the boy’s father have taken him?”
    I was very interested in hearing the answer to that question.
    “No,” she answered immediately.
    “How can you be so sure?”
    “He doesn’t live here.”
    “Where does he live?”
    Paula hesitated too long, her eyes darting from side to side as if looking for an answer or a way to escape. Trent and Creighton exchanged significant glances. “He’s dead,” she finally said.
    Trent folded his arms and looked to me as if for confirmation. I smiled. He could interpret that any way he wanted.
    Another officer came up. “We’ve searched the premises thoroughly. The child’s not here.”
    “Of course he’s not here!” Paula snapped. “I told you we already looked. I wouldn’t need your help if he was safe at home!”
    Fred, standing directly behind her, laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
    “Are there any places in the neighborhood where you take your son…to visit a friend, go to a park, anything like that?” Trent asked.
    Paula lifted a shaky hand toward Fred and me. “He loves to go to the park on Maple and twenty-first, but it’s half a mile away, too far for him to walk, and he wouldn’t know how to get there anyway. He’s just a baby.”
    “Check it out,” Trent told the officer who’d reported in regarding the search of the house.
    Trent focused on Paula again. “How about somebody who takes care of your son, a baby sitter who might have picked him up to go get pizza and just neglected to tell you?”
    “No. Nobody like that. I take him to Time for Kids Day Care Center when I work. Other than that, I’m always with him.”
    “Anybody at the center who’s especially fond of him?”
    “Everybody loves him. He’s a wonderful little boy.”
    “What’s the address for the day care place?”
    She gave it to him, and he snagged a female officer just coming in from the kitchen. “Check this out,” he instructed, tearing a sheet of paper out of his notebook and handing it to her. “The kid’s day care. See if anybody’s seen him, if any stranger’s been around asking about him.”
    Paula emitted a strangled sound at that remark, but somehow managed to retain her stoic demeanor. “Nobody could have taken him! I’d have heard them come in!”
    But she’d been sleeping awfully