Stop Me (Last Stand #2)(90)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Did she give the man’s name?” Romain asked.

Huff’s whiskers rasped as he rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It seems like she had a name, but I can’t remember it. It was unusual—I recall that much.”

The waitress delivered Romain’s eggs, but he pushed them aside, too interested in the conversation to be bothered with breakfast. “Was it Peccavi?”

The frown lines disappeared as Huff’s eyes widened. “That’s it! She said a man by the name of Peccavi approached her and offered to buy her baby. She was adamant. But she was also shaking from withdrawal.”

“So let’s say it’s true,” Romain said. “Let’s say the Moreaus, at least Beverly and Phillip, and maybe Francis when he was alive, are involved in a black market adoption ring. And let’s say Peccavi is the leader.” It made sense, based on what Dustin had told him. It also stood to reason that the Moreaus wouldn’t want Jasmine nosing around, and that they might kill someone in order to keep their secret, which could account for the body she’d found in the cellar. “Maybe Francis got out of line and started taking physical advantage of some of the children they kidnapped.”

“But we now know Francis didn’t kill Adele,” Huff argued.

“The ring could include other people. It’s possible Francis kidnapped Adele, planning to turn her over to Peccavi, but another member of the group, someone even more twisted than Francis, got hold of her.”

“Twisted is right,” Huff muttered into his cup, and Romain knew he was remembering what he’d seen on that tape.

Romain returned to the puzzle coming together in his head. “Say this twisted person got so carried away he killed her. Then he had to dispose of her body. He dumps her in the park restroom, she’s discovered, and the hunt is on.”

“At this point, the pressure’s mounting and he’s in a panic,” Huff chimed in.

“You’re on television begging for clues, offering rewards. I’m doing all I can to ferret out suspects. Maybe I even question him.”

“Then the neighbor calls to report that she saw Moreau carry something into the house the day Adele went missing.”

Huff pushed his coffee away, too. “He’s a loner, has a history of sex crimes, and he’s been seen at the school. So he becomes our focus.”

Something that might be problematic to their developing scenario suddenly occurred to Romain. “Wait. The members of this ring can’t take the children to their own homes. It’d be too risky. There’s a place off-site where the transfer happens.

That’s where Beverly goes each night.”

“But Moreau brings Adele home this time. He doesn’t tell any of the others because it’ll get him in trouble with the ringleader—Peccavi—but he plans to have some fun before he turns her over.”

Romain winced but continued to work out their scenario. “And he lives alone, so he thinks he can get away with it. But, somehow, this other guy, the guy who’s even more twisted than Moreau, takes her from Francis and the situation goes from bad to worse.”

“That could be it,” Huff said with a decisive nod. “Once he’s killed Adele, he has to make sure no one finds out it was him, especially Peccavi, because he’s now endangered the whole bunch of scumbags.”

Romain leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “He knows if Peccavi catches him he’ll be as dead as Jack Lewis, the man Jasmine found in that cellar.”

“So he frames Francis,” Huff went on, “who’s already the prime suspect. And Francis performed the actual abduction, so he was seen hanging around Adele’s school. It’s perfect.”

“All he has to do is plant the evidence. The bloody chinos were close enough to Moreau’s size and standard enough to be found in almost any male closet. The video and the barrettes make it even better.”

Some color was finally entering Huff’s cheeks. “But he throws it all in the cellar because they’ll be discovered by the Moreaus if he puts them inside the house.”

“Which is why the cellar door was broken before you ever got there.” Romain stared at Huff, his chest rising and falling with excitement.

The waitress came by for the third time, probably to ask about the meal growing cold on the table, but Huff waved her away. “Why couldn’t the man who killed Adele be Peccavi?” he asked. “Maybe Peccavi framed Moreau.”

“No. Jasmine specifically said that there are two distinct personality types at work here.”

“The Stratford woman?”

“She’s a profiler.”

“I know, but profiling isn’t an exact science.”

“There’re two men involved.” Romain had too much faith in Jasmine to disbelieve her on that point.

“Then who’s Peccavi, and how do we catch him?”

“Pearson Black!” they both said at once.

“That’s why he followed the case so closely, why he got involved and caused it to unravel,” Huff added.

“I’m guessing he promised Francis he’d get him off—if Francis kept his mouth shut about the adoption business. Francis did as he was told. So Black went to work.”

“And in my eagerness to solve the case and see a dangerous man behind bars, I made it easy for him because of the way I handled the search.”

At the time, Romain had believed they should do whatever was necessary to obtain the evidence they needed. That made it impossible for him to fault Huff, even though Huff was a police officer and should’ve curbed the tendency. “A cop would be above suspicion,” Romain said. “Black’s job would make him privy to the case while giving him the perfect cover.”

Jumping to his feet, Romain tossed some money on the table.

“Where are you going?” Huff demanded.

“We have to stop Black and whoever’s working for him before someone else gets hurt.”

“And how do you propose to do that? We can’t confront Black. All we have is a theory, which is worthless until we can prove it.”

Romain’s need to act, to fight back, nearly overwhelmed him. They’d identified the enemy. “Beverly Moreau is the key. Can we offer her immunity if she turns state’s evidence?”

“I can’t offer her a thing. I’m not even on the force anymore!”

“Then we have to go to the chief, get him involved. He doesn’t like Black. He might listen to us.”