Abduction

by Wanda Dyson

  chapter 28

  Thursday, April 27

  Matt strolled into the conference room with his hands in his pockets. Disappointment washed over him when he saw that JJ was deep in conversation with Agent Fleming. He wanted to drop into a chair, prop his feet up, and tell JJ all about his failure to get Paula back.

  He’d sent roses and cards. He’d sent her favorite candy. He’d apologized until he was out of breath. He’d left messages on her answering machine. And she hadn’t returned a single call or acknowledged his efforts in any way. He was certain he’d lost her.

  But JJ didn’t have time to talk to him about anything other than the case. He felt a pair of eyes on him and looked around to find Don Bevere staring at him.

  “Hey, Matt.”

  “Donnie.”

  “Has she called?”

  Matt shook his head. “Nah.”

  “Time to get serious now. If you are really serious about her.”

  “I am,” Matt confessed in a low voice. He was miserable. Of course he was serious.

  Donnie grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, swung it around his shoulders, and slipped his arms in as he strode forward. “Let’s go, buddy. We got some work to do.”

  Matt followed him out into the hall. “What work?”

  “Operation Paula.”

  “What are we going to do?” Matt had to step up his pace as Donnie jogged down the stairs.

  “You want her back; she wants to know you’re serious. Simple.”

  “Nothing has worked so far.”

  Donnie flashed him a devious smile. “Trust me, pal. I was raised with six sisters. They taught me well. You drive. We’re looking for a jewelry store.”

  Matt climbed in behind the wheel. “I tried that. A bracelet.”

  Donnie curled his lip. “Small potatoes. Good if you’re saying sorry for being late for dinner. Worthless when you’re saying that you totally screwed up and can’t live without her.”

  #

  Karen sat on her cot, her back to the concrete wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. Murder. They’d arrested her for murder. How could they do that? She hadn’t murdered anyone! Couldn’t they see that?

  Somewhere down the hall, a cell slammed closed and Karen flinched. She was going to go to prison. She’d heard horror stories of innocent people declared guilty.

  She dropped her head to her knees. Oh, God, don’t let this happen to me. You can get me out of this; I know you can! Just make them see the truth. Please. I don’t deserve this. You know that. You know I didn’t kill anyone.

  Get me out of this, okay, God?

  #

  “I don’t like it.” JJ folded his arms stubbornly across his chest and stared at the locket and ankle bracelet on the conference table. Fleming had convinced Zoe to wear the jewelry in an attempt to catch the killer. The anklet had a homing device in it. The necklace would transmit conversations back to a recorder monitored by the FBI. Still, she’d be a sitting duck hoping to get rescued before she got killed.

  He didn’t like it one bit.

  “I’m not thrilled either, JJ, but we’ve got two things to think about. One is that we know his killing spree ends May first, which gives us only days to catch him. And second, we already know he’s coming after her anyway. We might as well try to catch the guy while he’s at it.” Fleming picked up the two items, recently delivered from Quantico, and set them back in the box.

  “She’s better off in a safe house,” JJ argued. “You guys do that stuff. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

  “We do.”

  “But not this time. Not if you can use an innocent woman as bait. Never mind that you could get her killed.” JJ knew he was being difficult and annoying Fleming, but he didn’t care. The notion that Zoe could get hurt or killed didn’t sit well with him.

  Never mind that he hadn’t spoken to her since the day she’d stuck her nose into business that wasn’t hers. Never mind that he still didn’t want to speak to her.

  Fleming buttoned his jacket. “We’re not going to let her get hurt, JJ.”

  “And pigs fly with green wings.” JJ shook his head and turned to the window. “You can’t guarantee that, Fleming. You know it and so do I.”

  “You going to change your mind and come with me?”

  “No.” JJ continued to stare out the window. “I have too much to do here. Karen Matthews has been arrested for the murder of her husband. I got a call from some attorney who thinks he knows where Jessica is, and Tripp is playing hardball, refusing to let Matthews go with me to identify the child.”

  “Have the child brought here.”

  JJ heard the door click shut; then the room went silent. Fleming wasn’t fooled for a second. He knew JJ didn’t want to see Zoe after the way he’d childishly stormed out of her house like a two-year-old on a tantrum.

  How else was he supposed to react when confronted by someone who knew his deepest and most painful memory and threw it in his face like confetti? In the moment, all he had felt was the pain. Later, much of the truth she’d tossed at him surfaced, but it was too late.

  There was no simple way to ease back into seeing her without dealing with what she’d said—and the way he’d acted.

  If she lives long enough for me to ease back into seeing her.

  Fleming was experienced and dedicated. Bevere, for all his fancy ways and Hollywood charm, was sharp and astute. Both were determined to catch this guy before he killed again, and they were equally determined that Zoe would come through it without so much as a scratch.

  JJ wasn’t that optimistic.

  In the meantime, the need to follow this case to the end was like hunger at two in the morning. He had to acknowledge the hunger but didn’t have the wherewithal to satisfy it. He didn’t know if the need was just the detective in him wanting to finish what he’d started or the man in him needing to make sure Zoe didn’t end up like Macy.

  Until he resolved that issue, he wasn’t sure he’d be any good to anyone.

  A light tap on the door caused JJ to turn. Matt was standing there with that same haunted look in his eyes that he’d been wearing for over a week now. “Paula still won’t talk to you?”

  Matt shook his head. “I’m working on it. Donnie came up with a plan.”

  “Donnie?” JJ couldn’t help being surprised. He hadn’t realized the two men had become friends. Then again, he’d been so consumed with this case that he hadn’t realized a lot of things lately.

  “I hope it works.” He meant to put more enthusiasm into his comment but couldn’t seem to drum up enough emotion to pull it off. He reached out and patted Matt’s shoulder instead. “I really hope she gives you another chance.”

  “Yeah, you sound it.”

  “Sorry, Matt. Just have a lot on my mind.”

  “I know. Speaking of which, there’s a lawyer here by the name of Whitlow with a Mr. and Mrs. McCaine to see you. They said you knew they were coming.”

  JJ draped his arm over Matt’s shoulder. “Come on. You should be in on this.”

  “In on what?” Matt fell into step next to him.

  “Jessica Matthews may be coming home.”

  The minute they entered the conference room, the woman came to her feet, clutching the infant close.

  “I’m Detective Johnson. Please, Mrs. McCaine, have a seat. I just wanted to talk to you a few minutes before we bring Mrs. Matthews in to make a positive identification.”

  Nora McCaine eased back into her chair looking distraught and nervous. JJ figured she’d calm down as soon as she realized that she and her husband were not going to be charged with anything. None of this had been their fault.

  JJ sat down across from Whitlow. “Let me run through this again. A man came into your office with a woman he said was his wife and told you they wanted to give their daughter up for adoption.”

  Cameron Whitlow nodded. He was a heavyset man with small eyes that blinked behind tiny wire-rimmed glasses. “I had no idea that it was fraudulen
t in any way, I assure you. They showed identification; they had the baby’s birth certificate. It all seemed entirely legitimate.”

  JJ opened the file folder in front of him and passed a photo to Whitlow. “Was this the man?”

  Whitlow squinted at the picture and then nodded. “That’s him. Edward Matthews.”

  “And this was the woman?” Another picture slid across the table.

  Whitlow shook his head. “No. That isn’t Mrs. Matthews.”

  “Actually,” JJ responded, “it is.” He pulled out another picture. “How about this woman?”

  Whitlow nodded. “That’s her. That’s the woman who said she was Karen Matthews.”

  JJ looked over at Matt. Whitlow had just identified Maryanne Bubeck.

  JJ rubbed the back of his neck. Had they found Karen Matthews’s motive for killing her husband? Karen must have found out that Ted and Miss Bubeck were having an affair. Perhaps she knew they were conspiring to give the child up for adoption, and she’d killed him for it. It sounded logical enough.

  “I don’t buy it,” Matt said quietly, as if reading JJ’s mind.

  “Buy what?”

  “If Karen Matthews didn’t hurt her child and she didn’t give the child away, then she was telling the truth all along. And if she was telling the truth about that, why should we think she’s lying now?”

  “They found the body in her backyard!” JJ winced as he heard Nora McCaine gasp. He jerked his head toward the door. “We’ll figure this out later. Bring Karen Matthews in.”

  Matt nodded and hurried out of the room.

  Charles McCaine cleared his throat. “If Mrs. Matthews goes to jail for murder, is there any chance that we might be able to keep Kaitlyn? I mean, Jessica? I mean, she’s going to need a home. . . .”

  “I wish I could tell you one way or the other, but the truth is, Karen Matthews has family: a brother who is married with two little girls. He would probably take custody of Jessica.”

  “Oh.”

  The man sounded so forlorn and his wife looked so miserable that JJ’s heart went out to them. They’d gone to an attorney in hopes of adopting a child of their own. After paying over twenty-five thousand dollars in fees, they’d taken home whom they thought was going to be their daughter.

  The door opened again and Karen Matthews entered, led by Matt and Tripp. Nora McCaine rose to her feet and slowly, with great hesitation, pulled back the blanket so Karen could see the child’s face.

  Karen stared at the child, tears streaming down her face. She looked up at Nora, who was also crying, and then over at Charles McCaine, who looked like he’d just lost his best friend.

  “That’s not Jessica. Could you take me back to my cell now?”

  JJ looked from her to the child. “Mrs. Matthews, are. . .”

  “I said I want to go back to my cell!” She turned her back on him and walked stiffly to the door.

  #

  He crept closer to the house, staying in the shadows as he moved silently through the yard. He saw her move past the window in the dining room and stopped. Watched. He smiled. She didn’t know he was there.

  Zoe Shefford thought she’d outwitted him, but she was so very wrong. He knew all about the taps on the phone. Expected it, really. He knew about the FBI. Knew about the bodyguard. Knew she felt relatively safe as long as she stayed in her house.

  She thought he couldn’t get to her.

  She was wrong.

  He eased along the side of the house until he came to the power lines. Then he pulled a pair of cutters from under his black sweater and deftly cut the power to the house.

  Instantly the house plunged into darkness.

  He smiled again.

  Fools. They were all fools. They thought they could outsmart him.

  They were about to find out how wrong they were.

  #

  “Excuse me.” JJ jumped up from his chair and strode purposefully toward the door. He looked over his shoulder at the McCaines. “Stay here just a minute, please.”

  He pulled the door closed behind him and rushed down the hall, catching up to Karen Matthews as she was being escorted back to her holding cell. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  The misery in her eyes was palpable. And it nearly stole JJ’s breath. “I should think it’s obvious.”

  “Well, it’s not obvious to me. That was your daughter in there, and you just handed your child over to strangers and walked away.”

  “They’re not strangers to Jessica.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and he realized she’d given up.

  “I’m about to go to prison for a murder I didn’t commit. I have no idea how long I’ll be in prison, but I imagine it will be a long time. What will happen to my daughter, Detective?”

  “There’s no guarantee that you’re going to prison. And even if you did, what about your brother? Why give her to the first people that come along?”

  “Those people love Jessica. They’re good people; bringing Jessica back must have been incredibly difficult for them, but they did the right thing. That tells me something about them. Jessica has bonded with them. Should I rip her from the second family she’s bonded with and shove her into a third?”

  JJ didn’t know why it mattered. He’d just spent weeks looking forward to putting her in jail, and now that the time was here, he was trying to make her fight back. “I never thought of you as a quitter.”

  Karen’s laugh was brittle and raspy with emotion. “You thought I killed my baby, and then you thought I killed my husband. No, you didn’t think of me as a quitter. You thought of me as a murderer and a liar and a despicable human being.”

  She turned to Tripp. “Can we go now?”

  JJ stared at her retreating figure. Then he strode back into the interview room. The three people sitting around the table lifted their heads and stared at him as he shut the door.

  “For the record, Mrs. Matthews has confirmed that the child in question is her daughter, Jessica. While she’s straightening out this mess her husband has gotten her into, she’d like to know if you would be willing to continue caring for Jessica. She trusts you and believes it would be best for the child not to be taken away from you at this time.”

  Nora closed her eyes and began crying as she nodded. Her husband stumbled to his feet. “That would not be a problem. We love Kait. . .Jessica. Anyway, tell Mrs. Matthews that it won’t be a problem.”

  Whitlow stood up and began to gather his papers and shove them back in his briefcase. “On the off chance that Mrs. Matthews is convicted of this crime, does she intend to stay with this arrangement?”

  “I believe she does.”

  Nora looked up at JJ. “A woman who cares more for the well-being of her child than she does for her own is not the type of woman who would do the things you’ve accused her of.”

  JJ frowned. “I know. And for the record, I have my doubts about her guilt.”

  #

  “She did what?” Ray stumbled backwards and dropped into one of the vinyl chairs in the police station’s reception area. He stared at his sister’s attorney. “Why would she do that? Jess is her life!”

  “She said it would be best for the child not to be moved to another family until all this is settled.”

  Suddenly Ray understood. “She’s given up. She thinks she’s lost and Ted has won.”

  Benson nodded, his blue eyes unusually dim.

  “I want to see her. I need to talk to her.”

  The attorney shook his head. “It’s too late to see her today. I’ll arrange for you to see her tomorrow. Go home, and if you’re a praying man, pray for her. First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to go talk to the forensic pathologist. I know they’re backed up down at the morgue because of the serial killer, but maybe we can push for a positive ID before Karen is formally charged and arraigned.”

  “And then she won’t be. They’ll find out that’s not Ted.”

  “If
that’s not Ted, then you’re right. The charges will be dropped unless they have some reason to believe she killed our John Doe.”

  Ray slapped his thighs and came to his feet. Fatigue cloaked him like a wool blanket, heavy and thick. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Benson.”

  “That’s because you haven’t seen my bill yet.” He winked, and the twinkle returned briefly in those deep blue eyes. He placed a hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Go home, have dinner, get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

  #

  On the way home, JJ decided to drive by his parents’ house. He had an overwhelming desire to see them, even if they did drive him crazy. It was almost dinnertime, and no one could cook like his mother. If he was lucky, she’d be making pot roast with those little onions and baby carrots.

  His mouth started to water.

  He wasn’t stopping by for that reason though. It was something Zoe had said to him about his father actually caring, actually loving him. JJ found it hard to believe or accept. But he had begun to realize that Zoe was right more than she was wrong. He was learning to take her seriously.

  He parked in the driveway behind his father’s sedan and got out. Music was blaring from a radio somewhere behind the house, and the front door was wide open.

  JJ stepped into the living room. He could smell chicken baking in the oven, and mixed with that warm aroma was the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. She made apple dumplings.

  “Mom?”

  There was no response, but he could hear the sound of the vacuum from somewhere down the hall. He passed his old bedroom and stopped to look in. It hadn’t changed a bit since he’d moved out years ago except that it looked a shade cleaner. His old posters still hung on the wall, his baseball still sat on the dresser, and his comic books were still stacked on the bookshelf in the corner. He’d have to go through those one day. Might be something of value in that stack.