It Only Takes a Moment

by Mary Jane Clark

  “Ready when you are.” The announcement came over the speaker from the director in the control room.

  Margo cleared her throat and began.

  “Thank you for coming in to do this, Eliza.”

  “You’re welcome,” Eliza answered.

  “First of all, is there any new information you can share with us?” asked Margo.

  “Actually, there is something. Just before I left my house, I was told that there’s a new lead up in Milford, Pennsylvania. An employee at an Urgentcare was found murdered this morning and investigators think she might have been trying to make a phone call last night to the Find Janie hotline.”

  “And she was killed because of that?” asked Margo.

  “That’s what they’re trying to find out,” said Eliza. “But if the woman did have information about Janie and was killed because of it, that lets you know what we’re dealing with here, doesn’t it?”

  “You must be terrified,” said Margo.

  “That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel.” Eliza took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t matter how I feel. What matters is finding Janie and Mrs. Garcia, our housekeeper.”

  “There’s been speculation that Mrs. Garcia might be involved in the plot to take Janie,” said Margo.

  “I know there has been,” said Eliza. “But that women is totally trustworthy and gentle and good. When this thing is over, everyone will see that Mrs. Garcia had absolutely nothing to do with it. I’m sure of that.”

  “What do you think happened, Eliza?”

  The camera lens closed in on Eliza’s face. “I’m not sure what happened,” she said. “Someone took my daughter, that much is apparent. I don’t know why. So far, it doesn’t look like money is the motive because there hasn’t been a legitimate ransom demand. But whoever has Janie…”

  Her voice trailed off. She bent her head and looked down at her hands, in her lap. Margo waited while Eliza composed herself. After a few moments, Eliza raised her head again.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for,” said Margo. “Do you want to continue?”

  In that instant, Eliza had a mental flash of Linus praying out loud in the control room, praying that she would keep talking so he would have lots of tape to use on his show in the morning. But satisfying Linus wasn’t the reason she forced herself to go on.

  “Yes,” she said. “Let’s keep going.”

  Margo glanced at her notes. “You said it doesn’t look like money is the motive for this kidnapping,” she said. “Do you have any suspicions about what the motive might be?”

  Eliza shook her head. “No, I don’t,” she said. “Of course, your mind wanders and goes where it shouldn’t. You think of all sorts of things that could be happening to your child. You’re scared to death that some sick person has taken her and is doing God knows what with her.” Eliza’s voice cracked. She grabbed hold of the arms of the chair to steady herself. “I was watching some videotape of Janie before I came here, tape you could show on the air. There is such a happy shot of Janie waiting to talk to Santa Claus last Christmas and a little while later there’s video of her upset and hiccupping when the visit didn’t go so well. I hope you’ll use that shot, too. Because that picture of Janie is the one that is far more likely to look like she does now. Whenever Janie is scared or really worried, she gets the hiccups.”

  Margo watched and listened, marveling that her friend could speak as eloquently as she was. She decided to change the subject to something more productive than speculation about what hell Janie was going through.

  “Law enforcement is all over this case, Eliza. But what can we do?” Margo asked. “What can somebody sitting at home do to help?”

  “They can download our missing-persons posters from the Find Janie Web site and put the flyers up wherever they can. They can keep an eye out for Janie, and if they see her or Mrs. Garcia or anything at all that seems suspicious, call into the hotline.” Eliza paused. “And we can all pray.”

  “Is there anything else you’d like to say, Eliza?”

  “Yes, there is. I’m reaching out to anyone who might be able to help. If you’d told me before that I’d be consulting a psychic, I would have said you were crazy. But that’s how desperate I am to find my daughter. So, even though many people will think I’m nuts, I want to let the audience know what the psychic says she has seen, in case it might help find my daughter. She thinks Janie is near moving, or rushing, water and is hurt, and she thinks the letter M and a bridal veil are involved in some way. So I ask anyone listening to keep those things in mind as well as we try to find Janie and Mrs. Garcia.”

  CHAPTER 103

  The stack of multicolored flyers sat on the kitchen table.

  “Where did you get all those?” Nell’s uncle asked as he took another beer from the refrigerator.

  “I went around town and pulled them down,” Nell answered, not particularly concerned. She had witnessed her uncle help himself to fistfuls of mints at the diner and take piles of the free community newspaper so he could get the coupons inside. If something didn’t have a price tag on it, Nell figured it was up for grabs. “I thought it would be a good idea since they were about Janie.”

  His fist came crashing down on the table. “Damn Janie and damn you,” he shouted. “What the dickens were you thinking?” demanded Lloyd. “People in town already think you don’t belong up here alone with me. If some busybody saw you tearing down those flyers, they’ll send the cops for sure. We don’t need that kind of attention.”

  Uncle Lloyd will get over it. He always does. His blowups were always followed by more beers. Sometimes he would drive off and leave her there, not coming back until the next morning. So far, tonight he was staying home.

  After Uncle Lloyd went outside to the porch to clean his gun, Nell spread the flyers out. She arranged them according to shade. Yellow, orange, red, blue, green. She pasted them, one by one, in her scrapbook, thinking all the time what a good mother Eliza was. She had everybody, everywhere looking for her daughter. Nell suspected her own mother would never have made such an effort. Uncle Lloyd wouldn’t have, either.

  She was jealous of Janie Blake.

  CHAPTER 104

  Word that Eliza was in the house had spread through the Broadcast Center. Scores of employees were waiting for her outside the studio when she finished the interview. Some offered verbal encouragement, some hugged her, some squeezed her hand. All of them were eager to express their support.

  “Thanks so very much, all of you,” said Eliza to the group. “I know you’ve all been working hard on covering this story. Keep praying, will you? Keep Janie and Mrs. Garcia in your thoughts and make those thoughts positive ones. All right?”

  Annabelle, B.J., and Margo waited as the crowd slowly dispersed. When they were finally alone with Eliza, Annabelle suggested they go upstairs together. Once in the anchorwoman’s office, she told Eliza where she and B.J. were thinking of going in the morning.

  “What do you think, Eliza?” Annabelle asked. “Does it sound like a good idea?”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” said Eliza. “The thing that intrigues me most about the idea is the M part of this—that the anonymous letter came from the Marzipan Bakery.”

  Annabelle exchanged glances with B.J. and Margo. “I hate to admit it, but that’s what pushed me over the top in favor of going, too,” she said.

  “Even though the FBI agents blow me off any time I bring it up, they have to admit that Stephanie was right about the green paint on Janie’s face,” said Eliza. “And, honestly, I don’t care what anybody says: When she told me that John is glad I still use the same perfume I wore before he died, she was telling me something that nobody else would know. Nobody could know that was one of the last things we talked about.” Eliza paused. “We’ll see if she’s right about Janie and the blood. I have the sinking feeling that she is and that Janie is hurt.”

  It was quiet in the room for a few moments un
til Margo broke the silence.

  “Okay,” she said. “The FBI and the police are doing their thing, investigating in ways we can’t, with a network and technology we don’t have. But, since they aren’t paying any attention to Stephanie, what do we have to lose in going over the things she says she’s seen?”

  “Well, besides thinking the letter M is involved,” said Eliza, “Stephanie said she dreamed about Janie being near moving water.”

  “God, that’s so general,” said B.J. “Where do we even start?”

  “I know it is,” said Eliza. “She also said she dreamed about a bridal veil in connection with Janie.”

  “A bridal veil,” mused Margo. “All little girls like to dress up as brides. Could that have something to do with anything?”

  Annabelle shook her head as she considered the clue. “I know Tara is obsessed with her Barbie doll, and the bride’s costume is her favorite one of all.”

  Eliza bit her lower lip, determined not to cry. “Janie loves dressing up her Barbie in that white dress and veil, too.”

  “But how could a bridal veil translate into where Janie is, or what she’s doing?” asked B.J.

  “I don’t know,” said Eliza. “I don’t know.”

  “All right,” said Margo. “What else?”

  “That’s all really,” said Eliza. “But Stephanie did give me this.” She took the silver zodiac medallion from her pocket. One by one, the others examined it.

  “She told me to keep it with me and keep concentrating on Janie.”

  “As if you could do anything else,” said Annabelle.

  “Look,” said B.J., wanting their meeting to end on a hopeful note. “We’ll go up to the Marzipan Bakery early in the morning and see what we can find out there. And we’ll keep on thinking about the water and the bridal veil.”

  CHAPTER 105

  At the end of the day, one of the paintball guns had not been returned. The manager scanned his records and saw that it was the gun rented by Phil Doyle. The manager wasn’t terribly concerned. Doyle was a regular and he could simply have forgotten to return it. The manager was sure he’d be getting a call from Phil tomorrow, apologizing for the oversight and promising to bring the gun with him the next time he came up to play.

  The manager finished locking up the lodge. As he walked to his car, he noticed that there was still one other vehicle left in the parking lot. He recognized it as Phil’s old GMC Jimmy.

  God, is he still up there in the field? Is he hurt? Or is he just lost?

  The manager called the police, knowing full well that no search was going to start until the morning light. As long as he wasn’t hurt, Phil Doyle was the kind of guy who would have no problem surviving a night in the woods.

  CHAPTER 106

  Beneath the window, the kidnapper crouched over the body. He examined the gun the man had carried and realized it had not posed a threat after all.

  Some of the white paint that covered the front of the man’s jumpsuit had not dried completely. He carefully zipped open the jumpsuit and found a wallet in the pocket of the guy’s shorts. Inside was a driver’s license and eighty-three dollars. He took the bills and put them in his own pocket before throwing the wallet back in the jumpsuit and zipping it up again.

  Next, he checked the pockets of the jumpsuit itself and found the plastic necklace that spelled out Janie’s name. How had this guy gotten that?

  As he looked at the beads, he realized that he hadn’t seen the necklace since earlier in the week. Was Janie wearing it on the day she tried to run away? Had she dropped it on the road on purpose? If she had, she was a clever little thing.

  He decided it didn’t really matter how the necklace had ended up in Phil Doyle’s pocket. What mattered was, if he hadn’t killed this guy the whole operation could have failed.

  Now, what to do with the body?

  CHAPTER 107

  With her head bowed, Mrs. Garcia sat on the cold floor. Her lips moved as she silently prayed the rosary, counting the Hail Marys and Our Fathers off on her fingers.

  The dim bulb had started flickering several hours before. Mrs. Garcia had turned it off, afraid that it would burn out completely. But as she heard the noise coming from above, she pulled the string to light the root cellar.

  Her muscles ached as she stood up but she wanted her ears to be closer to the ceiling so she could hear better. Her ankle throbbed from the twisting it had taken when the rotted step collapsed beneath her. She shifted her weight to one side as she listened. It sounded like something was being dragged across the ground overhead.

  Someone was up there!

  Mrs. Garcia positioned herself beneath the ventilation pipe and started screaming. She yelled and yelled, thinking of Janie, thinking of her precious family. She called for help until her voice grew hoarse.

  Finally, she sank back down on the cement floor and wept.

  CHAPTER 108

  Rhonda watched as her husband went to the living room and turned on the television, clicking the remote repeatedly until he settled on CNN. While she straightened up the kitchen, Rhonda heard the reporter’s words.

  “It’s been another frustrating day in the search for Janie Blake and her caretaker, Carmen Garcia. This morning FBI agents raided the apartment of a New York City man who had sent a fax demanding two million dollars in exchange for the child’s safe return. The ransom demand turned out to be a hoax, with no evidence whatsoever that the man had anything to do with the child’s abduction.”

  She put down her dish towel, walked into the living room, and sat next to Dave on the sofa.

  “If they only knew that Janie was safe with us, there wouldn’t be all this hoopla,” she said.

  Dave clicked off the television and stalked into the kitchen. Rhonda could feel her husband’s anger as he went to the refrigerator, took out a can of beer, and slammed the door shut.

  “Janie, Janie, Janie. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to hear you talking about that child?” he yelled. “I’m sick and tired of her.”

  “First of all, please keep your voice down, Dave. She’ll hear you. Second of all, the whole world is talking about Janie,” said Rhonda. “You can listen to them talking about her on TV, but you can’t listen to me talking about her?”

  “It’s different,” said Dave. “You know, I have a breaking point, too, Rhonda. I’ve had it with this Janie thing. She’s not Allison and she’s never going to be Allison.” He lowered his voice. “Allison is dead, Rhonda. She was hit by a car and she died. Nobody can take Allison’s place.”

  “I know that,” Rhonda said softly. “Janie is her own person. Why can’t you love her like I do?”

  He looked at the expression of hurt and bewilderment on his wife’s face. “Forget it, I’m going in to take a shower.”

  She listened to the sound of the water running and decided what she should do. Rhonda went to the child’s bedroom.

  “Come, Janie. Daddy’s very upset. We’re going to go out for a while and let Daddy cool down and relax.”

  Rhonda picked up the stuffed monkey sitting on the bed. “Come on, sweetheart,” she said. “We’ll take Zippy with us.”

  On the way out of the house, Rhonda stopped in the kitchen and took a large knife out of the drawer. If things got bad enough, she might need it.

  CHAPTER 109

  Investigators know that perpetrators often come back to the scene of their crimes. Because the amateur video had been taken at Camp Musquapsink, it got priority over the other leads that were streaming in.

  Picture enhancement showed a man wearing a black jacket, peering from behind a separation in the fence. His complexion was ruddy, his eyes glistened, and there was a rapt expression on his face.

  As a start, comparisons were made with the mug shots culled from a list of child predators and other criminals known to be living within a fifty-mile radius of the camp and Eliza Blake’s home.

  CHAPTER 110

  The grounds of the historic Ho-Ho
-Kus estate that had been used by George Washington as one of his many headquarters during the Revolutionary War became the place where the crowd met to pray for Janie Blake and Carmen Garcia. Hundreds picked up candles as they streamed through the gates of the Hermitage property. The media were represented as well. Reporters and camera crews mingled with the crowd, getting video and conducting interviews.

  The Town Car dropped Eliza off after the interview. Mack and Katharine and Paul were already there. Many neighbors and other people in town she had never even met came up and offered support. Among the well-wishers was Stephanie Quick.

  “I wanted to be where there were so many individuals joining in the common hope of finding Janie,” she said as she held on to Eliza’s hand. “I hope all their energies help me see things better.”

  “I hope so, too,” Eliza whispered. She was about to turn away when she remembered. “I should tell you I just talked about you in an interview that will air in the morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, I shared the visions you shared with me, hoping that it might help. But, don’t worry, I didn’t give your name.”

  “I’m not worried,” said Stephanie. “It’s fine if people find out that I’m helping you. The more people know, the better, I think.”

  A hush came over the crowd as Eliza took the podium. She looked out over the audience, their faces illuminated by the glow of candlelight. She was touched by the sight of young children being held by their parents, the teenagers, the middle-aged, and the elderly citizens of the town, united by the common goal of finding Janie and Mrs. Garcia and bolstering their family.