by Wanda Dyson
Nancy Darrington stared helplessly as the police came through the door with guns drawn. She didn’t move a muscle, afraid they might shoot and hit the child in her arms.
“Nice and easy now, Mrs. Darrington. I’m going to ask you to hand over the child to my partner and then slowly raise your hands and put them behind your head.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered huskily, trying to speak through her dry throat and fear.
“Well, time will prove you right or wrong. In the meantime, there’s a detective who would like to talk to you.”
One of the officers lifted the child from her arms and backed away. She slowly lifted her hands and turned around. Immediately she felt the small pinch of a handcuff as it circled her wrist and slapped shut. Then her arm was yanked down and around to the small of her back.
It was over. No more running. No more safety. It was over. They would take the child away. She’d go to jail for kidnapping and she’d never be free again.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as the officer snapped the handcuff around her other wrist and turned her around. She hadn’t been able to save the child after all. And she hadn’t been able to save herself.
#
“I don’t know about this, Ray.” Karen pulled the front door closed and followed her brother down the front steps and across the lawn. The night air hinted at a warm summer, and she barely needed the sweater she was wearing and clutching closed.
“It’ll be fine. I like Rene. And we need to get together and pray about Jessica. And for you.”
“But Ted doesn’t like me to be around Rene.”
“Ted isn’t here, and he doesn’t run your life. He probably doesn’t like Rene because he knows she sees right through him and he didn’t want her cluing you in.”
“He said she would be a bad influence on me.” She jogged up Rene’s front steps behind Ray.
“In his mind she would be.”
Rene opened the front door at Ray’s knock. Ray smiled. “Hey, Rene.”
She stepped back and held the door wide. “Come on in. I think just about everyone is here.”
Karen expected to see a small group. She was wrong. At least fifteen people were milling around the living room. Rene introduced everyone. Karen didn’t bother trying to remember names. As they were about to get started, the doorbell rang.
“Excuse me a minute.” Rene went to answer the door and re-turned a few minutes later with the last person Karen ever expected to see at a prayer meeting.
“Excuse me,” Rene said loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “This is Zoe Shefford.”
Karen leaned into Ray and whispered, “That’s the psychic I was telling you about.”
“Really?” Ray stepped forward and offered his hand to Zoe. “Hi. I’m Ray Timms. It’s nice of you to join us.”
#
JJ was fuming. No, he was more than fuming; he was ready to explode into a fireball of white-hot rage. “The woman went too far this time! She practically begged the killer to take her on! Has she lost her ever-loving mind?”
“Not if the killer is her father,” Matt reminded him from his chair across the room.
JJ glared at him. “Keyes Shefford was never a viable suspect and you know it. Do you think this is just a ploy to make me look at someone besides her father?”
Matt shook his head. “No. I think it’s exactly what you said it is: a deliberate and calculated attempt to get the killer to come after her.
“And I talked to him, by the way. Keyes Shefford. He and Mrs. Shefford are at his summer house up on Lake Erie. I have to get to know this man. His house is in Marblehead. Best walleye and perch fishing in the country. And there’s a lighthouse there that’s over a hundred years old, and—”
“Matt. Shut up.”
Matt raised his eyebrows a notch. “Touchy.”
“Zoe Shefford is deliberately taunting a cold-blooded killer, and you want to talk about fishing?”
“Well, no. I was just trying to tell you that he called to let me know where he was and would happily answer any questions I might have. He said he went there because the killer came into Mrs. Shefford’s store, and he and Zoe thought it best to get her out of town. For her own safety.”
JJ felt his temper rise another notch. “The killer was in Mrs. Shefford’s store and no one told us? Did anyone stop to think that she could give us a description of the man?”
Matt flinched.
People out in the bullpen stopped, turned, and looked, but JJ didn’t care. He couldn’t believe this had slipped through the cracks. “Call him back. Talk to Mrs. Shefford. Find out what the man looks like!”
“JJ?” Matt spoke in a soft, even voice. “It’s done. As soon as he told me she could ID our man, I arranged for her to meet with the state police up there and work with a sketch artist. It’s being done even as we speak.”
Standing up, Matt looked down at JJ with disappointment in his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know my job. I thought you always believed I was good at it.” He turned and walked away.
JJ slumped behind his desk and ran his fingers through his hair. He was losing it. Yelling at Matt like that. And Matt was right. He’d never questioned Matt’s ability before. He was jumping out of his skin and it was unacceptable.
He stared at the newspaper again. Taunting the killer. Was she out of her mind?
He picked up the phone and called her. There was no answer. Grabbing his jacket, he ran out of the building.
chapter 23
Monday, April 24
Zoe sat on the edge of the sofa, bent over, with her forehead resting on her knees.
Sobbing.
She couldn’t help it and couldn’t have explained why in a million years.
At first, when everyone started praying for the police to find Jessica and Ted and for the families of the little girls to have peace in His arms and for Karen to have faith, she merely sat there, eyes closed, and listened to them pray, one after another. But then Ray started praying for her, and suddenly she felt like everything raw in her had been touched.
Caressed.
It felt wonderful. Warm and loving. And it brought tears to her eyes that quickly turned to uncontrollable sobs. She couldn’t stop. Someone came over and put an arm around her. She didn’t even look up to see whom. She didn’t care.
Oh, God. This is You, isn’t it?
“Trust Me.”
I want to. Oh, how I want to. But someone has to stop him.
“Trust Me.”
Why do you keep saying that?
“Because you trust no one. Trust Me.”
#
Gerry Otis stared at the fax in his hand as he talked on the phone with the police officer in Altamonte Springs. “Say that one more time?”
“We have the woman in custody.”
“No. The other part.” Gerry closed his eyes and wished for a miracle.
“And we have the little boy.”
So much for a miracle. “That’s what I thought you said. Are you sure it’s a boy? We’re looking for a little girl. Jessica Matthews.”
“No. This is definitely a little boy. I changed his diaper myself a few minutes ago in the lounge.”
Gerry sat down, his mind spinning. “Could you put the woman on the phone? I think we may be able to clear this up in less than five minutes.”
“Hold on.”
Gerry waved Matt over while he waited. He put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “I think the Darrington woman is a dead end.”
“Why?” Matt pulled up a chair and sat down.
“They have the woman in custody. There is a child with her, but it’s a boy.”
Just then, a woman’s voice came on the other end of the phone. She sounded defeated.
“Mrs. Darrington? This is Detective Gerry Otis. The child you have with you. Can you tell me whose child that is?”
“Mine. My son. John, Junior.”
“When you were living here and helping Mrs. Matthe
ws, where was your child?”
He heard her sniff. “With friends. Friends I had in college that my husband didn’t know about. They kept him while I got some money together.”
Gerry leaned back and nodded at Matt, indicating that his suspicions had been true. She hadn’t kidnapped Jessica Matthews.
“Mrs. Darrington, would you like me to keep your whereabouts a secret from your husband?”
Suddenly hope seemed to alight in her voice. “Would you? Could you do that for me, please?”
“I can and will. As far as he is concerned, we never found you. I just have one more question for you. Do you have any idea who might have taken Jessica Matthews?”
There was silence for a long moment, and it started to make Gerry a little nervous, but then she spoke up. “No. I can’t say that I do. Karen loved that child. She must be going out of her mind.”
“What about Ted Matthews? Did he seem the loving father to you?”
“I can’t say that he did. He was aloof. Indifferent. I wasn’t around him all that much. He usually didn’t get home from work until after I left for the day, so it could be that I was just catching him on bad days or something.”
“Is there anything you can tell me about Ted Matthews that might help us?”
Again there was a moment of silence. “I don’t know if it would help you find Jessica, but I do know that Ted Matthews was having an affair with a woman from his work.”
Gerry grabbed a notepad and wrote quickly. Matt read as Gerry wrote; then his eyebrows shot up. He grabbed the pencil from Gerry and wrote, “Any idea who the woman was?”
“Mrs. Darrington. Do you have any idea who the woman was? Her name? Anything?”
“I saw them just that once at the mall at lunch. It was my day off, and Mr. Matthews didn’t see me. He was buying her perfume and he called her Mary Anne. Or Marion. Something like that. That’s all I know.”
Gerry jotted down the information. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help. I’m really sorry about the mix-up. If you can put the detective back on the phone, I’ll see about having you released to go on your way.”
Gerry spoke to the detective and then got off the phone. “Whattya think?” he asked Matt.
“Maryanne Bubeck. The woman who disappeared just before Ted Matthews did. Coincidence?”
“Want me to check her out?”
Matt stood up. “Yeah. Her address is in the file. See if you can find out where she is.”
#
JJ sat in Zoe’s driveway, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The house was dark except for the light on the front porch, and Zoe’s car was gone. He hoped she hadn’t gone to meet the killer.
Suddenly old memories washed over him. And they weren’t warm and fuzzy.
“The psychic says no one is stalking me, Josiah. I’ve been imagining it, you see. I have nothing to fear.” Macy smiled up at him, her eyes shining like blue diamonds in the candlelight.
“Macy, I never believed anyone was stalking you. You have nothing to prove to me.” He reached up and ran his fingers lightly down her cheek. Oh, how he loved this woman. His soul mate. No. His soul. She was the essence that brought him life.
“You thought I was being foolish. Weak. A typical woman who faints at the sight of blood or something. Admit it.”
“I did not.”
Macy laughed, a high, tinkling laugh that always made him smile. “Yes, you did. I could see it in your eyes. I was simpering, cowering. Wasn’t I?”
JJ shrugged. “Okay, maybe a little, but I didn’t love you any less for it.”
Macy crawled over the sofa cushion and into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “My big, tough macho man. Going to be a cop and save the world.”
“Come on, Macy.”
“I love you, Josiah. Everything about you. Including the fact that you fear nothing.”
“I fear losing you.”
“I’ll never leave you, Josiah. We’ll get married as soon as you’re out of the academy and we’ll have lots of babies.”
“Whoa. Not more than four, okay? Cops don’t make tons of money.”
Macy laughed again and laid her head on his shoulder. “Okay, no more than four babies that all look like you.”
“Please, anything but that.” JJ pulled her close. “The psychic was certain no one is stalking you?”
“That’s what she said. She said it was just my imagination. That I had a secret admirer, but that he wasn’t a danger to me or anything like that. Everything is fine.”
“Well, if the psychic says everything is fine, then everything is fine.”
But it hadn’t been fine. Macy had disappeared less than forty-eight hours later, and it was three days before her body was found in the basement of a student who had been writing her anonymous love letters. His obsession had led to stalking Macy and then murdering her.
The psychic had been wrong.
Dead wrong.
JJ bent his head, his forehead resting on his hands on the steering wheel. Macy had been snatched out of his life because some voodoo psychic didn’t know her crystal ball from her tarot card. She was a fake. A phony. A real con artist. And he had been a fool for believing her.
Oh, Macy. I wish you were here.
#
Zoe groaned when she pulled into her driveway and found JJ parked there, waiting for her. He was in quite a temper from the dark looks he was shooting her.
“What were you thinking? Have you lost what was left of your mind? Or did you just decide to commit suicide and figured this was a heroic way of going about it?”
Zoe brushed past him. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Well, I have plenty to say to you! That was the most asinine thing I’ve ever seen! Do you have any idea what that man wants to do to you?”
“Kill me,” Zoe said quietly as she unlocked her front door, flipped on the lights, and walked in. JJ remained on her heels.
“And I suppose that’s just fine with you?”
She tossed her purse and keys on the coffee table. “No, it’s not.”
“All right. I’m sorry I said what I did about your father. That was out of line. We know he isn’t a suspect.”
“Bully for you.” She glared at him with a look sharp enough to cut gems. “Could you leave now?”
“And let you sit here to wait for the killer?”
Zoe slipped off her jacket and hung it in the coat closet. “He isn’t ready to kill me yet, Detective, but when he is, not even you will be able to stop him.”
JJ shoved his hands in his pockets. “You don’t have much faith in me, do you?”
She brushed past him and walked into the kitchen. He had no choice but to follow her. He watched while she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
Zoe poured herself a glass of juice without bothering to offer him any. “I didn’t realize something so obvious needed to be stated.”
“I said I’m sorry about your father, okay?”
“I heard you the first time. You’re forgiven. Will there be anything else?”
“Why are you doing this, Zoe?”
“Because someone needs to, and I ended up with the job by default.” She finished her juice and set the glass in the sink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long night and I need to get some sleep.”
“Do you honestly think you’ll get one minute of sleep tonight?”
Blast him for seeing past her wall of indifference. “If you’re going to sleep on the sofa, be my guest, but I’m going to bed. Don’t forget to turn out the lights.”
“I want a blanket this time!” he yelled as she started down the hall.
“Then take the guest room and leave me alone!”
#
Keyes stared out the window. The clouds, obscuring the moonlight, left the lake a dark, eerie black. Only the most turbulent of whitecaps could be seen. His boat, The House Keyes, rocked gently against the d
ock.
“What are you staring at?” Denise walked up behind him, slipping her arms around his waist and leaning into him.
“I’m worried about Zoe,” he said in a rough voice. He rubbed his temple with his fingertips. His anxiety manifested as a dull throb. “I don’t like leaving her at the mercy of a killer. I need to be there, Dee.”
“I know.”
He turned and pulled her close again. “I don’t want you in danger. I won’t lose you again.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Keyes. I’ll stay here. I’ll be fine. Go. Protect our daughter.”
He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you both so much. These years have been hell. I don’t deny I deserved them, but I can’t tell you what it means to me that you’ve forgiven me and are taking me back.”
“It just means you have to pay for another big wedding.”
Keyes laughed as he leaned down to kiss her. His heart was so full it almost hurt. “I’ll give you the biggest, grandest wedding you ever saw. Anything you want, Dee. Anything. And anywhere you want to go on a second honeymoon. Just name it.”
“I never stopped loving you, Keyes. You know that, don’t you?”
“You just couldn’t trust me. I know.”
“But I trust you now. Go take care of Zoe. She needs you more than I do right now.”
Keyes held on to her for another minute and then, with great difficulty, backed out of the embrace. He’d waited twenty years to hold her again. Most of that time he had been sure he would never have the chance again. It had been hard to believe that somehow, some way. . .
“I’ll call and charter a plane. It’ll be faster and that way you can keep the car.”
“Leave a credit card and I’ll go back to that little market we passed today. The one with all those antiques that you wouldn’t stop at.”
Keyes laughed.
In the bedroom, Keyes repacked his clothes. While Denise was in the shower, he sat down and wrote her a quick note. He tucked a credit card in the envelope. Along with the simple words of love, he wrote, “And the Visa is a gold card. Go as crazy as you want.”