Garage Sale Diamonds (Garage Sale Mystery)

by Suzi Weinert

  Adam hurried to the phone to relay her message to his chief. “I gave them your message, but I doubt they’ll accept it.”

  “Let’s think about this, Adam. The kidnappers need to contact me to tell me where to exchange Milo for the diamonds. They’ll assume police tapped my phones to intercept their calls, so they must find another way to let me know. What could it be?”

  “As a sworn police officer, I offer my professional and personal advices, which are identical now. Don’t try this alone. Besides skill and experience, police have electronic tools to track and observe these people’s phones and computers. They want what you want: Milo safe at home. You’re my mother-in-law and I love you, so please don’t take offense at this, but do you really think you’re smarter than the entire Fairfax County police force?”

  Jennifer chuckled. “Thanks for speaking your mind, Adam. I always admire that and you’ve made your points well. You’re a fine policeman and I appreciate your advice and protection. I’ll think carefully about what you’ve said. I can’t set the house alarm because the kidnappers cut the connections. Could you stay another ten minutes to guard the place while I lie down to figure this out? I’ll set my bedside alarm and not take longer than ten.”

  “Of course. You must be exhausted.”

  “Thanks, Adam. See you in ten….”

  Upstairs, she stretched out on her bed, put her forearm over her eyes and concentrated hard.

  Nine minutes later she had decided what to do.

  77

  Monday, 4:03 PM

  Jennifer thanked Adam for staying. “I feel focused now.”

  He heard the determination in her voice. “Please take my advice. Milo’s safety depends upon your wisest decisions.”

  “You pulled out the big cannons for that volley, but thanks, Adam, for wanting to help.”

  When he left, she removed some things from her purse, added note paper and envelopes, combed her hair, applied lipstick, grabbed her keys, wrote one note to Becca and another to Jason, locked the house except for the door where the men broke in and drove away. Once out of her neighborhood, she headed toward her destination.

  Parking next door to the “elephant house,” she knocked on the door. When it opened, she said, “Hello, Zayneb. Do you remember me? May we talk for a minute?”

  The woman couldn’t hide her shock. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. “Come in.”

  “I’m sorry to involve you but I don’t know where else to turn, so I must ask for your help.”

  Zayneb nodded politely but said nothing.

  Jennifer studied the woman’s face for clues as she talked. “You know we bought your daughter’s doll at your neighbor’s sale, but you may not know we found hundreds of large, valuable diamonds hidden inside.” She saw Zayneb’s flicker of surprise. Jennifer described what she’d gone through that afternoon. “While they forced me to go to the bank, one of them kidnapped my four-year-old grandson.”

  Zayneb’s lips parted in shock as Jennifer continued. “I think you know the owner of the diamonds. To get my grandson back, I must trade the diamonds for the child. Clearly, the owner wants them back, but he doesn’t know how to contact me because police became involved by capturing some of his men. So now it’s up to me. I must contact the diamonds’ owner. Is he here now?” Zayneb shook her head. “But you know how to find him?” The woman dipped her head slightly.

  “Then I’d like to give you a letter telling him how to contact me for the exchange. I don’t want to die and I certainly don’t want my grandson to die. I never wanted these diamonds. They came to me by accident, and the danger they’ve caused terrifies me. I’ve told you my story. What can you tell me to better understand what’s going on?”

  Zayneb looked very uncomfortable. She stared at her lap, nervously twisting the edge of her skirt. She saw this Jennifer had problems, but she did, too. Ahmed helped her bury Mahmud’s body. Smitten with Khadija, he might join her family one day. Since Mahmud no longer provided money, perhaps Ahmed would. She had no loyalty to this woman but several ties to Ahmed.

  “I know nothing of this,” Zayneb said. “I knew about the doll but nothing inside. Our houseguest of five days was very upset about the missing doll. I could give him your note.”

  “What can you tell me about your houseguest?”

  “He is my husband’s business associate. He is polite and speaks English well. He hasn’t told me how long he plans to stay and I know nothing of his business here. My husband respected him and I have no reason to think him unworthy of my respect too.”

  “You said ‘respected’ him. Was that past tense?”

  Zayneb flinched at her mistake. “My husband left two days ago on an extended trip to his homeland. I meant to say before he left he showed respect for this man. He called him ‘our honored houseguest,’ but in their country they sometimes speak flowery language.”

  “And what country is that?”

  “The Middle-East.”

  “That’s a large area. Where in the Middle-East?”

  “I don’t know. We never discussed it. My husband was…is Muslim, as am I.”

  “Yes…your head scarf.... Can you think of any reason your houseguest would own or hide these diamonds?”

  “No.” But she wondered now. Did that make him a wealthy merchant? If so, and if he married Khadija, might he appreciate Zayneb’s role in getting back his diamonds? Her reverie stopped at Jennifer’s next question.

  “And what is his name?”

  “His name?” Zayneb backed off, not wanting to reveal more about him.

  “Yes, so I can address my letter to him.”

  “Ah, his name is Ahmed.” Jennifer wrote this on her note pad.

  “And his last name?”

  “I wasn’t told his last name,” she admitted truthfully.

  “Okay. May I take a minute to write my letter to him?”

  “Of course.”

  Jennifer took paper and envelope from her purse and wrote:

  Dear Ahmed,

  In an unwelcome accident, I bought the doll containing your diamonds. You want them back and I want my grandson. Let’s trade your treasure for my treasure. To avoid police interference, please leave an untraceable cell phone sealed in an envelope with Zayneb’s neighbor, Roshan. Tell Roshan to call me at home (Zayneb has my phone number), saying “your order has arrived at Bloomingdale’s.” When I get that message from Roshan, I’ll drive to her house, pick up the phone and await directions on it to a place you choose. At that place, you get your diamonds and I get my grandson. Let us both give this unwanted situation a positive ending in which we all win.

  Thank you,

  Jennifer Shannon

  Jennifer folded the letter, sealed it in the envelope, wrote “Ahmed” on the front and handed it to Zayneb along with her phone number on a post-it note.

  “Thank you for helping me. You have children so I’m certain you understand the deep bonds that unite all women.”

  Zayneb showed her to the door.

  Jennifer drove away praying Milo could endure whatever was happening to him.

  78

  Monday, 5:01 PM

  Jennifer snapped up the phone when it rang. “Mom, its Hannah,” said the voice.

  “Hannah, let me call you right back on my cell. I’m trying to keep the land line open.”

  She found her cell phone and dialed her daughter. Hannah described the letter behind the medicine cabinet. “Mom, Adam has a whole new understanding about his mother, one that’s helped him get his early childhood in perspective. It’s a miracle. And it all happened because you found that medicine cabinet at a garage sale.”

  “Who’d think of such an unusual place to hide something? Thank goodness you found her letter rather than losing it forever.”

  “What can I bring or do for Thanksgiving?”

  “The meal is at one o’clock. Maybe come early to help set tables and get food ready in the kitchen? We’re having a big crowd.”

  “Ambitio
us, but you can do it.”

  “‘With a little help from my friends,’ as the song says.”

  “Okay, we’ll come early. See you Thursday. Love you, Mom. Say hi to Dad for us.”

  She hung up and considered calling Greg Bromley, but if the diamonds ransomed her grandson, once they were gone, finding legal ways to keep them became irrelevant.

  Jennifer jumped when the phone rang. “Hi, Sweetheart, it’s your loving husband. How are you and the Grands doing?”

  She ached to tell him about the unfolding nightmare but he was out of town and helpless. He’d be sick with worry but unable to make a difference. “All is well,” she lied. “How about your meetings?” He described some highlights for her. “Still coming home late tonight?” He was. “Jay, I love you so very much. We’ve had a terrific life together. I cherish every minute.”

  “Don’t know what brought that on but I like hearing it. Take care of your sweet self, darling Jen.”

  “I…I’ll do my best.”

  “You always do your best. Oh, gotta go. Love you, Hon.”

  “Love you, too, Jay.” She hung up, surprised to find tears in her eyes. Were these their last words if things went wrong tonight?

  She no sooner hung up than the phone rang again. “This is Detective Felts with the task force. We need to talk with you right away about finding your grandson.”

  “Please give me your phone number, Detective, and I’ll call you back on my other line.”

  Jennifer sighed and looked out the window. Typical of this time of year, dusk had fallen at only five o’clock. Soon it would be black outside.

  The phone rang again. “Hello, your order has arrived at Bloomingdale’s,” said a voice with a British/Indian accent. Jennifer froze momentarily, then managed, “Thank you.”

  She needed to return the detective’s call, but what would she tell him? A long conversation with him about using the police force robbed precious time from finding Milo. She’d call him later.

  Was she making the right decision? She again adjusted items in her purse, some in, some out. On the way to the car she took one last look at her beautiful home. She’d been so happy here. Would she ever see it again or lie dead in a ditch before the night ended?

  With resignation, she locked the door, got in her car and drove away.

  79

  Monday, 6:03 PM

  “911. Where is your emergency?” A whimper. “Hello, can you hear me? Where is your emergency?”

  Sniffle. “My name is Milo and…and I am fowah yeahs old. They put me inside the black closet for a long time but then I twied to open the handle and it wasn’t locked so I opened the closet doah and came out into this woom. On the mattwess next to the magazine and the pizza box I found this cell phone and I’m calling you for help.”

  “Milo, can you tell me where you are?”

  “I’m where the bad men taked me.”

  “Do you know your address, Milo?”

  He sang the row-row-row-your-boat ditty his mother taught them, with new rhyming words giving their address and phone number. “But I’m not at my house. I’m at this scawy place.”

  “All right, Milo. Who put you in the black closet?”

  “The bad men did. They had guns and they taked me from my Gwan’s house. The police came but one bad man gwabbed me and wan into the woods and put me in his caw. He maked me lie down on the flowah.”

  “Milo, do you know your last name?”

  “Milo Kwuse.”

  “Milo Kruse. Milo, did the men hurt you?”

  Sniffle. “They slapped me lots of times, weally hawd.”

  “They slapped you hard. Did they do anything else?”

  “They have mean faces. They shouted and pushed me. I’m afwaid. I wanna go home.” A sob.

  “Milo, you did the right thing to call 911 and I’m sending help. Can you tell me about the room you are in?”

  “It’s diwty and it stinks. They taked me down the steps to get here.”

  “Can you see out a window?”

  “No…no window.”

  “Can you hear any noises like a train or a bell?”

  Silence.

  “Milo?”

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me what you see in the room?”

  “Mattwess. Pizza. Magazines. Potty. Sink. Walls. Doah. Closet. TV.”

  “Okay, Milo. You’re doing fine. How did you know to call 911?”

  “My Gwan teached us if something weally bad happens and no adult is close to help we call 911. The men aw adults but they aw bad adults ‘cause they hitted me.”

  “Okay, Milo. Do you have a pocket big enough to hold the cell phone?”

  “…My new cawgo pants have lots of pockets.”

  “Here’s what to do. Do not turn off the cell phone when we finish talking. Leave it turned on and put it in your pocket. Then get back in the closet and close the door so they won’t know you found the cell phone. They’ll think you stayed in the closet the whole time they were out of the room. Our policeman will follow that cell phone signal to find you. Don’t tell the bad men you have the cell phone even if they ask you, because they will turn it off. Do you understand?”

  “I…I think so.”

  “Have you any questions about what to do?”

  “When will the policeman come?”

  “He’s on his way right now. Milo, even if the bad men take you somewhere else, the policeman will follow your cell phone signal as long as it’s turned on. He will find you wherever you are.”

  “Okay.”

  “Be brave, Milo. You’re a good boy.”

  “Thanks.” Sniff.

  “Are you back in the closet yet?”

  “No.”

  “Go there quickly and close the door. Leave the cell phone turned on. Hide it in your pocket. Don’t tell anybody it’s in your pocket. Help is coming soon.”

  80

  Monday, 6:11 PM

  Jennifer knocked on Roshan’s door. “Hello again. Do you remember me?”

  “Of course I do. Would you like some tea? Your envelope is here on the table.”

  “No tea, thank you, but may I sit long enough to read my letter?”

  “Go right ahead. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

  Jennifer opened the padded manila envelope. Inside lay a cell phone and a phone number. She called to Roshan. “Thank you, I’m going now.” Roshan appeared and Jennifer added, “Nice seeing you again and thank you so very much for your help getting this letter tonight.” Roshan nodded and Jennifer slipped out the door and into her car.

  From habit, she locked her car door, realizing afterward this safety measure was ludicrous against the risks ahead for her tonight. She turned on the interior car light and used the new cell phone to call the number in the envelope. “This is Jennifer.”

  A voice-distorted monotone answered. “We will give you turn-by-turn directions and observe your progress as you follow them. Make a U-turn now. Then after two blocks, turn right.”

  She steered with her right hand, holding the cell phone to her ear with her left hand as she headed into the dark night. She heard the voice say, “Turn left at the next intersection.” Had they spotters along the way to radio her progress or had they a way to track her car? A glance in the rearview mirror showed an empty street behind her. She passed numerous intersections without receiving new instructions. Had they lost contact? What would she do if that happened?

  “Turn right at the next intersection.” She turned, squinting at the street sign. Her headlights provided the only illumination except for weak glows from houses set back from spacious front yards. No streetlamps lighted these main roads—in an unrealistic effort to “keep the country feel” although this area was more residential than rural.

  Driving through darkness, she took her hand off the wheel long enough to touch the sock of diamonds stuffed into her inside jacket pocket to be certain she brought it. She passed enough intersections in cell phone silence to fret again ab
out losing contact with the kidnappers. They had her little Milo and his fate depended upon her. She must reach the destination.

  The distorted voice spoke again. “Slow down to twenty mph.” Jennifer did. “Prepare to stop soon.” Her car crept along a wooded, uninhabited section of road. “Stop. Now inch along until you see a stick with yellow cloth tied at the top. Immediately past that stick is a path in the tall grass just big enough for a car. Turn right into that path, immediately after the stake.”

  She almost passed the place described, halting abruptly and backing up a few feet until she saw the yellow tie. She hesitated, not wanting her front wheels mired in the storm ditch that ran along these roads. Then she noticed they’d filled that section of trench with logs. She rolled roughly across this improvised “bridge,” pulled into a field, bumped over grass and peered into her headlight’s beam for human figures. She saw none.

  “Turn your headlights off and your interior car light on so we know you brought no one else with you,” the cell phone instructed. She obeyed. Suddenly masked people moved around her vehicle. Now came the tough part. She might die right here, tonight, but this was the only way she knew to try to save her precious grandson.

  81

  Monday, 6:41 PM

  “Home again, home again, jiggety jog,” Becca sang to Chris and Alicia as they trooped in the front door with sacks of shopping trophies and bags of leftover movie popcorn.

  Becca saw a note, taped to a dining room chair placed in the foyer. “Put your things away now, girls. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  She opened the note:

  Becca,

  I’m away with Milo. Not sure when we’ll return. Don’t worry. No matter what happens, always remember how much I love you.

  Mom

  Odd note; it seemed almost as if her mother thought she wouldn’t see her again.

  The phone rang. Becca picked it up with one hand, still holding the note in the other.

  “This is Detective Felts again, Mrs. Shannon. You didn’t call back and it’s urgent that we speak with you about the kidnapping. When can I come to the house?”