Angelo hesitated and considered evading the question. He did not usually like to involve civilians in his game plan, but Samuel was his best friend and a man who was not easily brushed aside. "She bought some cots, four in all. And she has a gun, a recent purchase." He felt regret at the stark look of fear on Eliza's beautiful face.
"Her plan was to kill my babies?" she whispered.
"No. Her plan was to kill you and take the babies," Angelo corrected. "We're sending the husband in to get a confession from her."
"How're you planning on doing that? Doesn't she suspect him?"
"He's a classic drunk and a deadbeat, but he wants to do the right thing. Wants to save his wife." Angelo shrugged. "Seems to me that the guy loves his wife and wants her to get help. We're prepping him to go in and try to get her talking. He'll be wearing a wire."
"Are you sure this will work?"
Angelo answered him honestly. "The man is a nervous wreck and claims to be sober. He's also scared of the woman. We're hoping for the best and will be nearby in case it all turns to crap. If that fails, we have enough evidence to nail her anyway."
"I want to know why she's doing this."
He switched his gaze to Eliza, his expression softening. "Simple or complicated, depending on how you want to look at it. This is a desperate woman who wanted a child of her own and never had one. She was already fixated on you from the magazine cutouts the man brought to us. You were her idol at first. She sympathized with you, with the fact that you wanted children, but then you found the means to have those children, and it turned you into her enemy."
"So, it's my fault," she said dully.
"Don't be ridiculous!" her husband exclaimed sharply. Letting go of her hand, he tipped her chin up. "If you're going to start blaming yourself, you're going to piss me off, and I'm already pissed." Planting a rough kiss on her lips, he released her and turned to Angelo. "I want this over and done with."
"Absolutely."
*****
"Are you sure you're all right, Mr. Bell?" Angelo asked as his partner clipped the tiny device to his belt buckle. It amazed him how much technology had advanced since he joined the force twenty years ago. A tiny transmitter could make a hell of a lot of difference. But the man was worrying him. He was sweating and shaking. "If not, we're going to have to put this off and find another way."
"I want to help," Frank insisted. "It's just that Maxy is a good person." He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs restlessly. "She prays often and volunteers at the soup kitchen."
"Good people don't go around planning on harming innocent people," Angelo told him grimly. "You want to help your wife? Go in there and get her talking."
"Detective." His partner, Louise, sent him a warning glance.
"Right. Mr. Bell, we promise to get your wife the help she needs. Just go in there and do your best. Now run it by me again. What will you tell her about your absence from home?"
"I disappear every now and then when I'm trying to get clean," he admitted.
"Great," Angelo muttered. "So, this kind of behavior is expected of you."
"I'm trying my best."
"Sure you are. All right. Show time. Don't fidget, and make sure she buys your story."
"What do you think?" he asked as soon as the man stumbled from the nondescript utility van they were using.
"I think you were making him feel like shit and making him more nervous."
"He's a prince among men."
"At least he came forward. That has to count for something," Louise pointed out.
"You're right. Now let's hope to God that he comes through."
*****
"What're you doing here?" The strident tone of Maxy Brown-Bell's voice had Angelo tensing.
"She doesn't seem too welcoming," he muttered.
