If Angels Fall by Rick Mofina Read Free Book Online

talked to her several times. Did she know Angela
Donner? Franklin Wallace? No. Then the San Francisco detectives. Others came
later. Linda Turgeon, the policewoman in jeans, sat with her, silently drinking
coffee.
    “It’s after Danny’s bedtime,” Maggie said.
    Turgeon smiled, nodded. She was pretty.
    Maggie watched the swans burrowing their heads under their wings.
Funny how dreams could be so real. Strange. But now it was time to wake up.
Time to put Danny to bed.
    Someone entered—the big inspector again, the one in the tattered
sports jacket who smelled of Old Spice. He had soft gray eyes and seemed
understanding. He put his hand on Maggie’s shoulder. Maybe now she would wake.
    “How are you doing, Maggie?” Sydowski asked.
    She said nothing.
    “It’s important we talk some more. Are you up to talking to me, to
helping us?” He sat beside her.
    Maggie nodded.
    She liked Sydowski’s reassuring presence.
    “We’re doing everything we can to bring Danny home. Anything you can
remember that now you consider odd will help, okay?
    “Uh-huh.” Her chin crumbled. “This is real, Inspector. Someone took
my baby. I’m not dreaming, am I?”
    “No. You aren’t dreaming.”
    She buried her face in Danny’s pajamas. Her body shook as she wept.
Turgeon held her. Sydowski waited. He offered to come back in a little while,
but Maggie wanted to go on. They had to find Danny.
    He opened his notebook.
    “Does Danny have any serious medical problems, allergies, does he
take any special medication?”
    Maggie shook her head. “When he gets frightened, usually at night,
he’ll wet his bed. We’re seeing a specialist about it.”
    “What kind of boy is Danny? Describe his personality.”
    “A good little boy. Friendly. He likes helping with chores.”
    “How does he get along with other people? Other children?”
    “He likes to play with other children, likes to share his things.”
Maggie nodded with each point. “Gregarious, inquisitive, and he spills his food
all the time. You know how children can be.”
    “Does he know his full name, his address, phone number, area code,
does he know how to call home?”
    “He’s only three.”
    Sydowski saw Maggie’s painting of the swans.
    “That’s quite good. How long have you been painting?”
    “Oh” –Maggie touched her nose—“as long as I can remember.”
    “It’s beautiful.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Sell many pieces?”
    “About three dozen a year.”
    “I’d like to have the names of the people who’ve bought one of your
works over the last three years as soon as possible. Do you have a favorite
artist supply store that you shop at?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you take Danny with you?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “What are the names of the stores?”
    “The Rainbow Gallery and Meuller’s Arts and Crafts.”
    Sydowski wrote it down. “Do you take Danny to any groups, clubs,
classes, or local organizations?”
    “I’m a member of the Community Association. I go to meetings once a
week and usually take Danny with me to the community hall. There’s a playroom
there and he plays with the other children while one of the parents supervises.
We all know each other.”
    “Have you noticed any strangers hanging around your house in the
last little while? Anybody asking for directions?”
    “No more than the usual.”
    “Do you employ anyone, housekeeper, gardener...?”
    “A neighborhood boy, Randy Anderson, does landscaping for us.”
    “Who baby-sits for you?”
    “Vicky Harris and Melanie Lyle. They’re teenage daughters of
friends. We seldom go out. Usually it’s the three of us at home.”
    “Have you ever spanked Danny?”
    “We’ve given him a tap on his bum—“ The tears started again. “When
he was bad.”
    “About six months ago. We were grocery shopping and he smashed a
bottle of ketchup on purpose. I spanked him right there.” Her voice trailed
off. “But he’s a good boy, really. He was just tired that day and I