by Wanda Dyson
Vince had immediately called Fleming. Any minute now they would descend like scavengers, picking at every nuance and word in the message, considering possibilities and scenarios, ripping apart objections to their authority.
Zoe chewed on her thumbnail as she looked at her father, his arms wrapped around his midsection. He was pale and shaken. She watched him struggle with fear and wished there were some way to ease his pain. He buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking.
When they’d asked her to help, she’d agreed without a second thought. Now that she knew her mother’s life was at risk, she had more than a fair share of doubts. One wrong move on her part and her mother could die.
Suddenly Fleming bolted through the front door with JJ and Matt. Zoe had no more time to guess, second-guess, or question anything.
JJ never looked in her direction. The only sign that he was uncomfortable with the situation was the way he kept fidgeting. His hands would go in his pockets, only to reappear a few seconds later and be folded across his chest. He’d rest his fists on his hips, then run his fingers through his hair, then stuff his hands back into his pants pockets.
She turned away and sat silently while the men discussed options, argued over methods, and eventually agreed on a plan. Meanwhile, her mother—her gentle, sweet mother—was in the hands of a madman.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Police officers came and went. Agents checked in with Fleming and disappeared out the door. Still no one said a word to Zoe or her father.
Jumping to her feet, she clenched her fists. “Enough!”
Sudden silence. Everyone in the room turned and stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Well, maybe she had. She didn’t care much what they thought. “While you all stand around talking, my mother is being terrorized!”
Her father turned pale, and Zoe immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
Donnie Bevere took a step toward her. “I know this is hard for you, Miss Shefford, but you have to trust us. We’re going to get your mother back safe and sound.”
“Don’t give me that routine, Agent Bevere. I’ve worked with law enforcement for years. You can’t guarantee anything. You need me to calm down to make things easier for you. The last thing you want is a hysterical female in the mix. For all you know, my mother could be dead right now while you’re making promises.”
Keyes released a keening sound that made Zoe’s blood run cold. She ran to him, dropping to her knees in front of him, grabbing his hands in hers. “I didn’t mean it, Dad. She’s alive. You know she is.”
He stared at her with unfocused eyes. “Is she?”
Dropping her head to his knees, she struggled to gather her strength. She lifted her head again. “Can’t you tell? Don’t you think you would know if something happened to her?”
“I don’t know, Zoe. I just don’t know. I keep praying for God to keep her safe, but I know God won’t interfere with free will. If that lunatic wants to kill her—”
“Dad! He won’t. He wants me. Mom is only bait to get to me. Don’t you see? He needs her.”
She saw it then. A subtle shift in his eyes, a tightening around his mouth. He was struggling with something more than the fact that the woman he loved was in the hands of a madman.
“Dad? What is it?”
He started to shake his head. Stopped. Stared at her again. “Can you feel anything?”
The question rocked her back on her heels. It was the last thing she expected from him. And yet, in an odd way, she couldn’t blame him. She’d been wrestling with the same question herself.
“I don’t know. I haven’t. . . I don’t think I should. . . I don’t know what to do.”
She felt her soul being ripped in half. She had renounced her psychic abilities. If she used them now to try to find her mother, she’d be renouncing God. Could she even sense anything now that she’d renounced the gift? It might not work, and then she’d have turned her back on God for nothing. But what if she could sense where her mother was?
A cold sweat formed and trickled down her sides.
What was it Rene had told her? She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, trying to remember. Something about gifts being given without repentance. What mattered was how they were used.
But she didn’t know how to use her gift the way God intended.
She crawled over to the phone and yanked it off its receiver.
“Zoe, I didn’t mean to ask. I’m sorry. Don’t do it.”
She glanced at her father and saw the misery pooling in his eyes. This was torturing him, and she was the only one who could stop it.
Pulling her eyes away, she punched in Rene’s phone number. It rang three times. Then four. “Come on, Rene. Where are you when I need you?”
It rang again. And again. She slammed down the phone. There would be no help this time. She would have to make this decision on her own. Could she live with herself if her mother died and she hadn’t even tried to find her?
Her father reached out with a shaking hand. “I can’t ask you to do this. We have to trust God.”
“Can you?” she asked in a rough whisper.
“We have to try.” He took a deep breath as tears streamed down his face again. “We have to try.”
“I don’t know if I can, Dad.”
#
Justus Gallagher ran long, thin fingers through his red hair as his foot rocked back and forth under the tall stool.
“What does it say?” Vivian stepped into the autopsy room, tying her scrubs.
“Edward Matthews was O negative.”
“And the body?”
“B.”
“Ouch.” Vivian reached for a pair of latex gloves. “Well, call Johnson or Tripp and let them know.”
#
Zoe paced. Then stopped. She glanced at her watch. Nearly two hours had passed since her last attempt to reach Rene. She’d left a message, but Rene hadn’t called back.
The late afternoon sun streamed down through the trees, highlighting some areas, shadowing others. A squirrel appeared in the front yard, sniffed the air, turned, and quickly darted off.
Zoe turned away from the window and started pacing again.
JJ, Fleming, Matt, Bevere, Vince, and a host of other police officers and FBI agents were scattered all over the house and yard. Fleming had commandeered her rarely used family room downstairs as a command post. Occasionally someone would come up and get coffee or water and then disappear again. No one told her anything. It was driving her crazy. Her only consolation—small thing though it was—was that Vince, sitting near her father, was probably getting dizzy watching her pace.
She took a deep breath and looked in the hall mirror. There were circles under her eyes and worry lines around her mouth. She was pale and her hair was mussed from constantly running her hands through it. She was a mess.
And she felt worse than she looked.
She spun on her heel and headed for the kitchen. Where was he? What was taking so long? Why hadn’t he called back? What was he doing to her mother? The thought hit her mind and pain washed over her with the intensity of ice water on a hot day. Please, God. I don’t care about me, but don’t let anything happen to my mom.
Heavy footsteps thundered up the basement steps. She glanced over, expecting to see Matt with an empty coffeepot. But it was JJ who came through the door this time. His eyes met hers then darted away as he headed for the back door. With his hand on the knob, he turned his head and stared at her. He licked his lips nervously. “Why don’t you try to relax? He’s not going to call again today. It’s part of his game to make you suffer.”
She shook her head. “He’s going to call again. I know he is.”
“Not today. Maybe not even tomorrow.”
He reached out and touched her shoulder. She flinched, backing away from him. “We’re going to get him, Zoe. I promise you, we’re going to get him.”
“Before or after he kills m
y mother?”
“He’s not going to hurt your mother until he’s sure he doesn’t need her to get to you.”
The words had the effect of a blow, causing her to stagger back a step or two.
“I’m sorry, Zoe. That was insensitive of me.”
“Nothing new,” Zoe whispered to herself as JJ stepped outside and pulled the door closed. Insensitive, but also the cold, hard truth. As long as this maniac needed Denise Shefford, she was safe. The trouble would come when he had Zoe. Then what was to stop him from killing her mother?
#
Karen followed the officer down the long hall. She had no idea what she was about to face. No one had told her a thing. She’d asked, of course, but the officer had said he didn’t know.
He stopped, opened the door to Lieutenant Tripp’s office, and then stepped aside to allow her to enter.
Inside, she found Ray, her attorney, and Tripp waiting for her. Tripp didn’t look the least bit happy. Ray looked ecstatic.
Tripp nodded to the officer at the door. “Uncuff her.”
The cuffs fell away and Karen rubbed her wrists. “Now what? Rubber hoses?”
Ray swept her up in a hug. “It wasn’t Ted. The autopsy proved it.”
Ted was alive. She didn’t know how that made her feel.
Suddenly she frowned. “Then who was that man?”
Tripp sat on the edge of his desk, folding his arms across his chest. “We were hoping you might know.”
“I have no idea.”
Benson picked up his briefcase. “I believe that takes care of everything. You know where to reach my client if you have any further questions.” He turned to Karen. “Let’s go home, Mrs. Matthews.”
“Home? You mean. . .I’m free?”
“The man they found had been strangled. You aren’t tall enough or strong enough to have pulled it off. They arrested you for the murder of your husband. That man is not your husband. Therefore, all charges have been dropped and you are free to go.”
“Just don’t leave town,” Tripp added gruffly.
#
Just after seven, Matt came through the front door with a stack of pizzas and a case of sodas. While the men downstairs ate, Vince and another agent relieved the two men posted outside so they could take a short break.
Neither Zoe nor Keyes ate a bite. They sat in the living room staring at a sitcom on TV and never cracking a smile.
At 11:00 p.m., Fleming came upstairs and told Zoe he was sending everyone home except two agents who would be staying at the house. The rest planned to return in the morning.
Zoe nodded, too exhausted, both mentally and emotionally, to ask him what they’d been doing in her basement for the past six or seven hours.
A little while later, she convinced her father to lie down in the guest room. After taking off his shoes, she covered him with a blanket.
Clutching at the blanket, he started to tear up again. “I can smell your mother’s perfume. Am I going crazy?”
Zoe shook her head as she reached out and stroked his cheek. “No. Mom stayed here the other night.”
He tugged the blanket closer to his chin and closed his eyes.
As she stepped out of the room and started to pull the door closed, she heard her father. “Zoe?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I love her. I’ve always loved her. Do you know how I met her?”
Zoe stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb. “Tell me again. I don’t remember.”
“It was a frat party. She came with a friend of hers and she hated it. Hated every minute of it. You could tell. She stood in a corner and just watched everyone drinking and dancing all around her. It was like she was above it all. None of it could touch her. That fascinated me. It took me twenty minutes before I could even get her to talk to me.”
“And she fell in love with you.”
“Not right away.” His voice drifted across to her as if coming from a deep tunnel. “I kept asking her out and she kept turning me down. She said she didn’t have anything in common with a boy who was more involved with frat parties than he was with his studies.”
Zoe smiled to herself. Her mom had been no fool, even back then. “What did you do?”
“I lied. Told her that I had only been there at the party because I promised a friend I’d go.”
“And she believed you?”
“No. But she went out with me anyway.” There was the sound of a husky chuckle. “I think I just wore her down.”
“She did fall in love with you though.”
“Yes. Yes, she did. And she married me. Then I blew it. I knew how seriously she took things, and I blew it anyway.”
“That was then, Dad. She’s forgiven you. You can get married again and—”
“We were never divorced, Zoe.”
That shocked her. She’d always assumed they had divorced right after Amy disappeared. “I thought she filed for divorce. I could swear I remember her talking about meeting with an attorney.”
“She threatened to. But she didn’t. She said that if I wanted to divorce her, then I could sue her for divorce. She said she’d taken a vow for life and was going to stay married to me for life, even if we never lived in the same house again.”
“I didn’t know.”
She heard him sigh heavily and waited to see if he was going to say anything else. When he didn’t, she whispered goodnight and quietly closed the door.
The despair in her father’s voice stayed with Zoe as she took a shower and changed into a pair of light blue cotton drawstring pants and a T-shirt. Her stomach wanted food, but her breaking heart trumped the hunger. She stretched out on her bed in the dark and stared at the ceiling. Was her mother asleep? Or was this lunatic keeping her awake? Was she alone but too frightened to sleep?
God, please. I don’t know You all that well. I know it’s going to take time for me to understand You and trust You the way people like Rene do, but I don’t know where else to turn. You’re the only one who can protect my mom. And help my dad through this. Please.
#
She must have fallen asleep, because suddenly she choked awake. It was still pitch dark, so she knew it was the middle of the night. Gasping for air, she turned and looked at the clock. It was blank.
Did the electricity go off?
Why is it so hard to breathe?
It was then she heard the screams. She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt weighed down. Suddenly she jolted awake. Smoke. Acrid, thick, black smoke. It was obliterating everything.
Sirens wailed in the distance as she rolled off the bed and started crawling toward the bedroom door. Confused and panicked, she went in the wrong direction and slammed headfirst into her dresser. She turned and headed for the door.
She groped in the dark for the door handle and found it. Voices shouted in the distance. The sirens were growing louder.
“Dad!”
She staggered to her feet and rushed into the guest room. Her father was groping in the dark and their hands met. “Zoe! What’s going on?”
“Fire. Maybe next door. I don’t know. Come on! We have to get out!”
They made their way down the hall to the living room, trying to stay as close to the floor as possible. Zoe could hear Vince coughing violently. She let go of her father. “Vince?”
He’d been asleep on the sofa. She ran her hands across the cushions but couldn’t find him.
“He’s over here,” her father yelled.
The sirens were blaring just outside, the strobe lights on the trucks alternately flashing red and white. They lit an eerie path to the front door.
Zoe helped her dad get Vince to his feet. “Take him out. I’m right behind you. I need to grab the photo album.”
“Forget the photo album!”
She shoved her father out the door and turned to make her way back into the living room. Coughing as the smoke thickened, she frantically ran her hands over the bookshelf until her fingers closed around the leather-bound boo
k. She lifted it from the shelf and pressed it against her chest.
“I’ve got you,” a disembodied voice said. She felt a blanket sweep around her. A flash of white light from the truck outside illuminated the fireman’s neon stripes on his turnout coat. He lifted her into his arms.
A few seconds later, her lungs caught a touch of fresh air and erupted into a spasm of coughing.
“Just breathe nice and easy. I’ll get you oxygen in just one second.”
“Zoe!”
She heard her father’s voice and tried to turn her head.
“She’s fine, sir. Stand back. I need to get her an oxygen mask. Stay right there. Someone will help you in just a moment.”
Then they were moving again. She looked over the fireman’s shoulder to see her townhouse and the one next to it engulfed in flames. Nothing would survive that. For a brief second, she wanted to mourn all that she would lose. The moment passed and she felt thankful everyone got out alive.
The fireman set her down. “You’re going to be just fine.” She felt a slight prick on her thigh. “I’ve got you, Zoe.”
Her mind started to go fuzzy and her limbs grew heavy. One thought penetrated the fog in her brain.
How does he know my name?
chapter 31
Saturday, April 29
JJ could see the flames shooting into the air from two blocks away. His heart jumped, racing as fast as the engine of his vehicle. He took a left turn, squealing the tires and fishtailing erratically before he brought the vehicle under control.
He’d been at the office, stretched out in his chair, his feet on his desk. He was sound asleep when the call came through. He, Fleming, and Bevere had raced down the stairs and out the station door.
Now Fleming screamed into his cell phone, trying to reach the agent stationed outside Zoe’s house. He shut the phone. “Fire chief says they got everyone out alive. Shefford’s home and the connecting townhouse are fully engulfed. From the looks of it, he thinks it started next door to Miss Shefford and spread. That’s not yet confirmed.”