The wonders of modern technology.

20

I finally took Oliver’s advice and sat down, because had I remained on my feet, I would have passed out. Hayley kept asking me questions. I could hear her voice but couldn’t understand the words because my head was still spinning. Eventually, things began to register.

“… you okay? Do you need water?”

“I’m fine!” I insisted.

The excitement in her voice attracted Oliver’s attention. He jogged over.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Hayley said. “Decker called up the number on the dog tag. Then she dropped the phone.”

“What dog tag?”

I showed Oliver the strip of metal that Hayley and I had found in the bushes. “The phone number on the tag is for Fordham Communal Center for the Developmentally Disabled. If the hit-and-run victim is this woman Belinda Syracuse, then in the famous words of Yogi Berra, ‘It’s déjà vu all over again.’”

“What the hell does that mean?” Oliver barked.

“Can you give me a minute to catch my breath?” I snapped back.

The two of them waited, staring at me. Despite Oliver’s incredible rudeness and brusque manner, there was concern in his eyes. He told me to take my time.

I said, “The baby that I plucked from the trash? The mother was a resident of the same center … the Fordham Center. …”

They continued to study my face. Oliver said, “And …”

“Well, don’t you think it’s a big coincidence?”

Oliver held out his hands as if he were balancing scales. “Yeah … I suppose.”

I suddenly felt inane. What was the big deal?

“What?” Oliver asked. “You think they’re related? Tell me. I’m listening.”

“I don’t know.”

“So what are you getting all hysterical about?”

“I don’t know, Oliver, maybe it’s the shock of seeing a fellow human being batted around like a shuttlecock!”

I was talking louder than I thought. Koby shouted out, “Are you okay, Cindy?”

“I’m fine,” I yelled back. “Just having a spirited debate!”

My voice was razor sharp. Koby gesticulated to one of the paramedics, then sprinted over. Someone had provided him with a blue short-sleeved scrub top. He took in my face, his eyes also concerned. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine.” I pointed to my companions, one at a time. “This is Officer Marx, also from Hollywood PD … Homicide Detective Scott Oliver.”

“Yaakov Kutiel.” He lifted up his bloodied gloves. “Forgive the lack of handshake.”

Oliver nodded.

Koby directed his attention to me. “Do you need me to take you home right now?”

“I can take her home if you’re busy,” Oliver volunteered.

I cringed. If our past wasn’t obvious before, it sure was now.

Koby spoke before I could. “No, that’s fine.”

“Just that you looked kinda busy,” Oliver said.

I said, “What I really need to do is go over to the Fordham Communal Center and find out if Belinda Syracuse is sleeping in a bed or not.” I showed Koby the dog tag. He read the information but didn’t touch it. “I found this in the bushes. The number corresponds to the Fordham Center, the same school that Sarah Sanders went to.”