The Governor's Wife by Michael Harvey Page A

“Then I’d tell you she’s lying. When all else fails, she’s always been pretty good at that.”

CHAPTER 15
    F or the next week the case sat. Like a fisherman who’d cast his lines, I had to be patient, content to drift with the current and see if anyone bit. Every morning, I’d get up at 6:00 a.m. and go for a run. I’d usually start at the totem pole on the lake and work my way south, slipping past Belmont Avenue and Fullerton, along Oak Street Beach to Navy Pier. I’d watch the waves as I ran, gray walls of water rolling in from the east and spending themselves at the stone feet of the city. I’d think about the case, about the people and what went on behind their eyes. Back at my flat, I’d grab a quick shower, make some coffee, and be in my office by nine, poking through Ray Perry’s past, following up on all the alleged “sightings,” looking for a rabbit hole the former governor might have disappeared down. Twice during the week, I’d taken a detour from my routine. An unexpected detour but, somehow, maybe not. It was only a five-minute drive downtown and a short elevator ride up—to the Safe Haven Program at Prentice, and the kid I’d named Vince.
    I didn’t do anything spectacular on my visits. I’d show Vince the stuffed animal I’d brought—the first time a Chicago Bear, the second a Cub—and stick it up on a shelf next to his crib. Amanda Mason was always around. She claimed Vince knew who I was. I told her the kid smiled when anyone came up to the crib. She said yes, but he kicked his legs in the air when I showed up. And that was special. I thought Amanda was full of it, but I liked the idea anyway. So we sat by the crib and stared at the kid, smiling vacantly the way real parents do. Amanda would leave after a while, and I’d sit there alone and watch him. He’d watch me back. And kick his legs. And I felt special. Even if it was all make-believe.
    It was during my third visit that I saw Marie Perry. I’d been there for an hour or so and was getting ready to leave when I caught a glimpse of her. She was in the reception area, talking animatedly to Amanda. The conversation seemed one-sided, Marie gripping the nurse’s shoulder and bending forward until there seemed to be no space between the two. Suddenly, she lifted her head as if she’d caught a scent and turned, pinning me with a look through the thick glass. She walked into the nursery, Amanda trailing in her wake.
    “Michael Kelly.”
    “I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” Amanda said, the confusion of my earlier lie tangled up in her voice. “Mr. Kelly has been coming in to sit with one of our abandoned infants.”
    “Have you, Mr. Kelly?”
    “A friend of mine found a boy stashed in the trunk of a car. I come in to check on him.”
    “He’s been in three times in the last week,” Amanda said protectively.
    “Where’s the boy?” Marie said.
    I walked her over to Vince’s pod. Marie picked him up and cradled him. The kid’s eyes danced, and he reached outto touch her cheek. For just a moment, I thought I saw the former governor’s wife soften.
    “He’s beautiful.” She turned to me as if he were mine.
    “Yeah, he’s pretty great.”
    “Do you have children, Mr. Kelly?”
    “Just a dog.”
    “Would you like to hold him?”
    I shook my head. “I just sit and watch. Talk to him sometimes.”
    Marie kissed Vince on the nose and laid him back in the crib. “He’s beautiful.”
    She’d already said that, but I noticed that people tended to repeat themselves when they were around babies. I was no exception.
    “Are you here to volunteer, Ms. Perry?”
    “Not today. I just came in to talk to Amanda for a moment.” She held out her hand. “It was nice to see you again.”
    “You, too.”
    “I must say, you surprise me a little bit.”
    “How so?”
    “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t expect to see you hanging around a nursery.”
    “We all have our secrets, Ms. Perry.”
    Her hand slipped out