JANIE AND NASTY SANTA. That should do it. Last Christmas, Janie had begun asking questions about the existence of Santa Claus, but she had still wanted to cover her bets and alert him to what she hoped to find under the tree. Eliza had suggested they go into New York City to find Santa, but Janie had insisted they go to the local mall, where her school friends were going. The outing turned into a disaster.
They’d been there when the mall opened because Eliza hoped to avoid a long line and the curious stares that inevitably followed her. When they got to Santa Claus, there were already two other children in line.
Eliza fought to control herself as she watched the pictures of Janie waiting her turn. The child’s face glowed with excitement, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling blue. That will certainly be the shot they’ll use on the broadcast, thought Eliza. Let the world see the vibrance and innocence of my precious girl.
She kept watching as Janie walked up to Santa’s chair and stood beside him. He offered her his knee, but Janie shook her head. Santa might have been miffed, or just miscast for the job, but he definitely wasn’t very friendly after that.
Eliza had gotten closer so the camera would pick up the audio.
“And what can I bring you for Christmas, little girl?” he asked.
“A new bike,” said Janie. “A pink one.”
“You don’t already have a bike?” asked Santa.
“I do,” said Janie, “but it’s too little for me now and it’s red. I want a pink one.”
“Do you think you deserve a new bike?” he asked her rather pointedly.
Janie looked at him with uncertainty.
“Have you been a good girl and done what your mommy and daddy told you to do?”
Janie nodded.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked.
Janie’s bottom lip began to quiver. “Well, I’ve been good for my mommy.”
“What about your daddy?” he asked. “Haven’t you been good for him?”
Janie started to hiccup.
Eliza intervened. “She’s been very good, Santa,” she called out.
But the damage had been done. Janie pulled back from the man in the red suit and ran to Eliza. The camera had been turned off after that.
Eliza’s heart had ached. A simple trip to see Santa had turned into a painful reminder for the child that her father wasn’t with her. Janie had hiccupped, as she often did when she was upset or nervous, the whole ride home.
It occurred to Eliza that Janie was probably suffering with the hiccups now, while she was going through this ordeal. She wondered if the hiccups were worth mentioning to the FBI.
CHAPTER 95
Janie lay blindfolded on the mattress, staring into the darkness. She could hear the man in the next room. He was grunting loudly. Every so often Janie heard something hit the floor. Then the noises stopped. The door opened. She knew the man was checking on her. She didn’t move.
“After I finish lifting my weights, I’ll bring you something to eat,” said the man.
Janie didn’t answer.
“Suit yourself, you little brat.” He slammed the door closed again.
Janie whimpered quietly as she turned over and tried to fall asleep. The lady at the Urgentcare had been nice but her legs still hurt. The lady reminded her of her mother and Mrs. Garcia trying to make her all better. Janie wished that she had been able to tell the lady at the Urgentcare to call Mommy, but if she had, the man had said he would kill Mommy. Besides, the lady never came back after she went to get the medicine.
Her small body shuddered as she hiccupped.
She wished so much she was with Mommy now. Mrs. Garcia promised Mommy would be coming.
Where is she?
CHAPTER 96
When six-year-old Melissa Bushell got home from Camp Musquapsink, she ate some grapes and drank some milk. Then she asked her mother if she could watch the video from the swimming race the day before.
Glad to have something to occupy the child while she started dinner, her mother cued up the video. But as the images appeared on the screen, Karen Bushell found herself sitting down to watch alongside her daughter.
“There I am!” shouted Melissa.
“You did a great job in that race, sweetie,” said her mother as she reached out and stroked the child’s hair.
“I know I did,” Melissa said, smiling happily. “Let’s watch it again.”
“You can watch it again,” said Karen. “I have to start making dinner.” She rewound the video, hit the PLAY button, and left the room. She was just opening the refrigerator door when she heard Melissa call out. Karen ran back to the family room.
“Come back and look, Mommy.” Melissa pointed at the screen. “There’s a man watching the race through the fence.”
CHAPTER 97
Crouched behind a giant hemlock, Phil waited and regrouped. Air came in from the vents at the bottom of his safety mask as he breathed heavily from exertion and excitement.
One by one, many of his opponents had been picked off, either by him or by the other guys. He estimated that there were only a half dozen of them still left out here.
Phil listened intently for some sound of movement, but it was quiet. He had two choices. He could stay where he was and hope that his enemies would come to him, or he could go out there and try to hunt them down.
Slowly, he rose and walked out from behind the tree. He had ventured out only a few steps when he felt the stinging pain in his chest. White paint exploded across his jumpsuit and splattered over his plastic eye shield.
They got me, he thought with disappointment. Man, that’s going to leave a big black and blue.
Knowing he’d been killed, Phil threw his hands up in the air and walked off the paintball battlefield.
Phil started back, following what he thought was the trail to the post. After half an hour, he knew he was lost. His chest was sore and his legs were tired. He sat on the trunk of a fallen hemlock to rest.
In the stillness of the forest, the silence was broken by chirping birds. Phil also thought he heard the sound of moving water. He ached for a drink of cool water, but he would have to wait until he got back to the post and bought a bottle of the pure stuff. The sooner the better.
As Phil stood up to begin retracing his steps, he thought he heard the noise of a passing car. There must be a road over there, he thought.
He could either turn around and hike all the way back or he could follow the sound of the car and find the road that must be nearby.
A deer darted across Phil’s path. He made his way with care, climbing over termite-ridden fallen trees and rotted stumps and through the ferns that covered the forest floor. Just when he thought he had made another mistake by choosing this way, the dusty road appeared before him.
He stood for a moment trying to decide which direction would be best. His eyes were drawn downward by the movement of a chipmunk that scurried across the dirt. The rodent scampered into the greenery at the side of the path and was gone from sight.
Phil spotted something else at the side of the road and he moved closer to see what it was. He bent down and picked up a cluster of multicolored beads strung together to form a necklace.
Some of the plastic beads had letters on them, letters that spelled out a name.
J-A-N-I-E.
CHAPTER 98
She was in her room getting dressed to go into the city for the interview when Agent Gebhardt knocked. Eliza pulled on a robe and opened the door.
“We think we have something, Eliza.”
Eliza stood back and indicated that the FBI agent should come into the bedroom. “What?” she asked. “What is it?”
“A body was found this morning at an Urgentcare in Milford, Pennsylvania.”
Eliza’s knees buckled. “Oh my God,” she cried out.
Agent Gebhardt reached out to her. “No, it wasn’t Janie or Mrs. Garcia, Eliza. I’m so sorry for scaring you like that.”
Eliza sat on the edge of the bed. �
�Milford,” she repeated. “The letter M. Stephanie Quick said she saw the letter M.”
“It was the body of a young woman, a nursing student,” Agent Gebhardt continued, ignoring the reference to the psychic. “She was murdered. The coworker who found her said she had volunteered to close the place last night.” The agent neglected to fill Eliza in on the gory details of how the murder had been committed.
Eliza tried to control her breathing while she waited for Gebhardt to continue.
“The thing that has us interested is the fact that a woman called into the hotline from that same Urgentcare last night. The person who took the call said the woman was speaking very softly, whispering, but he’s positive he heard the woman say ‘Janie Blake’ before the connection was broken.”
“And you think that the woman who called the hotline was the nursing student who was killed?” asked Eliza, her pulse quickening again. “That she had some information about Janie she was trying to tell us before she died?”
Agent Gebhardt shrugged. “We can’t say that for certain. But it sure seems like more than a coincidence that a call comes from that Urgentcare just after closing time last night, a call that’s cut off, and then this morning the last person known to be at the place turns up dead.”
“What do we do now?” asked Eliza.
“Our guys are up there and they will let us know as soon as they have anything,” said Agent Gebhardt. “In the meantime, you should go ahead and do your interview. Get your message across, get some more publicity. Somebody might be listening out there who can lead us to Janie and Mrs. Garcia.”
CHAPTER 99
“This will probably be a wild-goose chase,” the police officer said to his partner. “If those kids saw a black van on Monday afternoon, it’s long gone by now.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said the other patrolman, “but we’ve got to check anyway.” As they rounded the corner of the dry-cleaning plant, they saw a white Volvo station wagon parked on the cracked and otherwise deserted macadam.
“Eureka.”
They called the find into headquarters.
“You search around the perimeter of the building. I’ll go over the parking lot.”
The men got out of the police vehicle and began pacing the area.
“Hey, Barry. Come over here.”
“What have you got?”
The policeman pointed to the strip of green construction paper stapled together to form a circle. A dirty yellow feather dangled from the band.
“Somebody’s been playing cowboys and Indians.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
The other cop nodded. “Janie Blake was last seen with paint on her face. The kid was decorated for Indian day at camp. What’s an Indian without a headdress?”
He reached down to pick up the paper headpiece.
“Careful, Arnie,” warned his partner. “If there are prints on that thing, you don’t want to screw them up.”
CHAPTER 100
Margo couldn’t remember the last time she had been this tense. The kidnapping had shaken her deeply, and so far she had felt utterly powerless to help her friend. With the interview, Margo felt she was being given the opportunity to help get out further news of the kidnapping investigation and to present Eliza to the audience as the devoted mother she was. Margo was intent on being prepared and doing it right.
In the years of medical school, internship, residency, and hospital and private practice, Margo had seen countless examples of people who had been pushed to their limits and finally had broken. Afterward, it took years of nurturing to build them back. Some were never whole again.
Margo was glad she would be the one questioning Eliza, primarily because she wanted to ensure that the interview would be handled with the delicacy it deserved. Eliza was under extreme pressure as she waited for word on the fate of her child and Margo didn’t want this interview to add to an already almost unbearable load. Despite Linus’s urging, Margo had already decided she would not ask Eliza to respond to the ridiculous reports that she herself was a suspect.
Margo looked at her watch. Ten minutes until the hour. This would be the time to reach him, while he was between patients.
She made the call.
She waited for her colleague to pick up the phone.
“Margo. Good to hear from you. I caught you on television this morning. Nice going.”
“Thanks,” said Margo. “But I’m afraid I’m a duck out of water there. And that leads to the reason I’m calling. I need your help, need your opinion.”
“Shoot.”
“I’m about to interview Eliza Blake.”
“That’s a terrible situation. Terrible.”
“It is and I don’t want to make it worse with this interview. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t, Margo, I’m sure you won’t. What exactly are you concerned about?”
“That I’ll ask her something that might hurt her.”
“She’s not going to be hurt by anything you ask her. The hurt comes from what’s happened to her child. Whoever took her daughter is the one who has hurt her. Unless you plan on attacking her, I don’t think you’re going to damage her. I don’t know the woman, Margo, but I know some of the things she’s been through. She’s survived them, and she’s not only survived but she’s thrived in a pretty high-anxiety professional world.”
“Losing a child is different,” said Margo.
“But she hasn’t lost the child, not yet anyway. And let’s hope she doesn’t.” Her colleague paused momentarily before continuing. “But I suppose we should acknowledge, Margo, that there’s also the horrific possibility that Janie will never be found or won’t make it through this alive.”
“Eliza would blame herself for the rest of her life,” Margo whispered. “Whatever kind of life would she have after that?”
“Look, Margo, it’s not a therapy session. It’s a television interview. You don’t have to probe, you don’t have to get into Eliza’s innermost feelings, just ask the questions you think you should, the questions the audience would ask if they were in your place. Trust your instincts. And trust Eliza’s strength.”
Trust your instincts.
Trust your instincts.
The words filled Margo’s head. She just had to go with her gut, question Eliza and see where the interview went.
As she went over the questions she had planned to ask, Margo’s thoughts turned to the psychic who had been sharing her premonitions with Eliza. She hoped Stephanie Quick’s instincts were wrong and that Janie wasn’t hurt, or worse.
CHAPTER 101
He wasn’t sure which way to go, but Phil Doyle started walking along the dirt road. He didn’t realize he was going deeper into the forest and farther away from civilization. Instead, he was thrilled when he spotted the small house and separate shed set back from the road.
Phil noted that there were telephone lines coming from the house, lines that draped from pole to pole as far as he could see in both directions. It was getting late and it would be dark soon. There was no way he wanted to spend the night in these woods. He needed to call for help and let the police know about the necklace he’d found.
Approaching the house, he considered the possibility that Janie Blake and her kidnapper could be inside. If that were the case, he would be risking his life. Phil decided he would try to see in the window before knocking on the door.
As he crept around the foundation of the small house, Phil saw that some of the windows at the rear were covered with planking, allowing no view in or out. He positioned himself near one that he supposed would be an opening from a bedroom. The walls of the cabin were thin and Phil could hear the sound of a television. It sounded like cartoons were playing inside.
Was Janie Blake in there? Why would these windows be boarded up when none of the others were?
He took out his pocketknife and began prying out the nails that attached the plywood to the window frame. Trying to be as quiet as pos
sible, he was able to remove four nails from the corner of the board. Phil slid his hand beneath the plywood and pulled back enough of it to be able to see inside.
A little girl was sitting on a bed, watching television. Her back was to him, so he couldn’t be absolutely sure it was Janie but, because of the necklace he had found on the dirt road, Phil was convinced the girl was Eliza Blake’s kidnapped daughter.
Should he try to get the child’s attention? Or should he run and try to find someone who could help him?
Before he could decide what to do, Phil felt himself being pulled backward by a strong hand grasping him under his chin. Another hand grabbed the back of his head. Both hands twisted and pulled in opposite directions at the very same time, snapping Phil’s neck and silently killing him.
CHAPTER 102
The studio was cleared except for only the most necessary personnel. Margo fiddled with the microphone battery pack that was attached to the rear of her waistband, invisible from the camera, while Doris Brice finished brushing powder on Eliza’s cheeks.
“We don’t want you looking all shiny,” Doris said soothingly in her throaty voice.
“It’s hard to care a whit about how I look,” said Eliza. “But thanks, Doris.” Eliza rubbed the zodiac medallion Stephanie had given her.
“Good-luck charm?” asked Doris.
“Something like that,” answered Eliza.
The makeup woman patted Eliza’s arm before retreating to her post behind the cameras.
Eliza and Margo sat in chairs facing each other on a raised, carpeted platform. Spotlights were trained on the two women, but the rest of the studio was dark.
It Only Takes a Moment Page 19