They moved closer to the shed. Faint whimpers. A thud.
“It’s Sean.” Jay took the rock from her and bashed the padlock free.
Gun drawn, Lela stood back as Jay swung the door open. Then she aimed the weapon into the shed.
Cardboard boxes, an old wooden shelf, a torn, red leather seat cushion.
And Sean.
“Thank You, God.” Jay scooped him up in one arm and eased the duct tape off his mouth. “It’s all right, Sean. Uncle Jay-Jay is here. Hush. Everything will be all right.”
But his soothing voice did little to calm the child’s frantic screams.
Lela quickly holstered her pistol and then helped Jay remove tape from Sean’s wrists and ankles. Sweat trickled down his flushed face and had already soaked his clothes. “How could she treat a child like this?”
“Easy.”
Margie’s cold voice sent an icy chill down Lela’s spine.
57
Sean’s screams pierced Jay’s eardrums. He clung to the squirming child and turned.
Margie Knox aimed a small revolver at Lela.
“You don’t need that weapon.” He twisted to shield Sean while continuing to say, “It’s OK. Jay-Jay is here.”
“This has nothing to do with you. Shut that kid up, or I’ll do it myself.” She waggled the gun in his direction.
Bad move on her part. Lela swung her leg in a lethal arc, knocking the weapon from Margie’s hand. One pounce from Lela, and the older woman landed on her plump rear. The gun slid into the weeds close to the wall. Lela caught one of Margie’s arms, twisted it, and turned the woman face down in the gravel. Lela bound plasticuffs around Margie’s wrists. She rested on her haunches and looked Jay’s direction. “Are you guys all right?”
Surprisingly, they were.
As soon as Margie hit the ground, Sean quieted. He remained rigid but stared at the adults, eyes wide.
“Yes. I hear sirens.” Jay rubbed Sean’s damp back as the child struggled to get out of his arms. “Can you manage her?”
Lela nodded. She located the discarded weapon and after stowing it in her back waistband, hefted Margie to her feet.
Chest heaving, Margie said, “It’s all that kid’s fault. He wouldn’t sit still and quiet so I could feed my special chocolates to Jimmy. That’s why I had to lock him in the shed.” She kicked at a small rock. “What you gonna do with me?”
“Not my call but good thing the cops are on their way.” Jay entered the barbershop and carried Sean to one of the padded chairs along the wall in the waiting area.
“I’ll keep Margie in the kitchenette. Sean might hear her rantings, but at least he won’t be able to see her.” Lela remained at the entrance to the little room.
“Good idea.” Jay shifted the boy and wrapped both arms around him, ignoring Margie’s complaints and wild comments.
Sean sobbed, his little hands flailing in front of him. Jay hadn’t seen him act this way, but then again, the boy had never been abducted before. “Hush, Sean. Uncle Jay-Jay will keep you safe.”
A ragged inhale was followed by Sean’s shriek. “Want Daddy. Daddy. No Jay-Jay. Daddy.” He interlocked then flicked his fingers over and over as if trying to rid them of dirt.
Lela poked her head around the kitchen door. “Is Sean injured?”
“I don’t see any physical wounds. He sweated a lot and might be dehydrated.” Jay dipped his head and his chest tightened. “I’m sorry…” The raspy words hurt his throat and his heart. “It’s my fault Margie locked Sean in that sunbaked shed. I delayed us leaving the house. If we’d arrived sooner, Sean—”
“Quit with the guilt trip. We arrived in time.”
No-nonsense Lela. Yeah, she was right. No time for self-incrimination.
“Here, catch.” She tossed a bottle of water to Jay.
He offered the drink to Sean. His bellowing tapered off as he lunged for the bottle and gulped down half the contents.
Wailing sirens drew closer. Cadena was the first to arrive. By the time he’d taken custody of Margie, two ambulances joined the throng of vehicles outside.
Lela ushered in the EMTs. One pair tended to the barber, while the other approached Jay and yelling Sean with caution.
“This is my nephew. He, um, has special needs and won’t let you touch him. I checked him over and he’s not injured.”
“Are you sure, sir? He sounds as if he’s in pain.”
“He’s not physically wounded. I assumed he might be dehydrated and gave him a bottle of water.”
“We’ll monitor his vitals.” The young woman stooped to take a closer look while her partner hesitated in the background.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Sean is highly agitated.”
“Daddy. No Jay-Jay. Daddy.” Sean’s high-pitched keen and hand gestures became more exaggerated. He interlocked his fingers, flung them apart, and then repeated the action. “Daddy. Daddy.”
The EMT backed away. “I see. Are you accompanying your nephew? We may have to use a mild sedative.”
“Of course, but please no meds right now. Let me try to calm him while you take that gurney back outside.” Jay shifted Sean onto his shoulder. The boy draped his arms around Jay’s neck and wrapped his legs around Jay’s waist. Just as quickly, his wailing ceased.
Jay used the silent respite to survey the shop. The barber lay on a gurney on his way out to the ambulance. Margie was already in a police cruiser, and Lela spoke on her phone near the window.
All under control. And no one seriously injured. Physically. Thank You, God.
Sean exhaled a big shuddering sigh. Poor kid. He must genuinely miss Chuck. He did need to be checked out, but maybe a trip to the hospital was not necessary. Could he ask Beth to bring Sean’s doctor here?
Beth. Had anyone contacted her?
When Lela sat beside him a moment later, he poked his elbow in her direction. “Does Beth know?”
“Yes. I called her. She—”
“No Mama. Daddy.” Sean wiggled in Jay’s lap.
At least he wasn’t screaming, but he flicked his hands again. Then the flailing resumed in earnest. The more aggressive his actions, the more agitated he became. “Daddy. Want Daddy.” His voice rose with each syllable. “Daddy.” He repeated the same disturbing hand motions. “Daddeeee.”
The last word stretched out for what seemed like minutes. Jay had done all he could. “OK, ma’am.” He jutted his chin toward the EMT. “I’ll carry him to the ambulance, and then you can sedate him. He’s not allergic to anything and doesn’t take any medications.”
By now Sean was struggling to free himself from Jay’s arms. Jay held tighter, while using a soothing tone, although he wasn’t certain the boy could hear over his screeching. “Hush, Sean. It’ll be all right.”
Lela followed them outside. “Cadena wants to talk with me now. I won’t be able to accompany you to the hospital. The EMT said they’re taking the barber and Sean to Southern Memorial. Beth will meet you there.”
“Thanks for calling her. Olivia’s at the same hospital. I hate that Sean has to be sedated, but I’m afraid he’ll harm himself.” Jay swiped hair off Sean’s wet cheeks. “Lela, thank you for sticking with your gut instinct. He’s safe.”
She cocked her head. “No problem. Just wish I knew what he was trying to tell us.”
Jay slowed and studied Sean’s hand movements. “He might be using his sign language. I know for sure it’s not the sign for Chuck, but my mind’s blank. I can’t match words with his actions. When we get to the hospital, I’ll ask Olivia.”
“Good idea.” Lela stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “Adiós for now.”
No recrimination, no reprimand. All business.
Except for the kiss.
His pulse raced. His growing attraction to this competent, vivacious woman was serious. Jay climbed into the ambulance barely able to restrain his nephew. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t erase the memory of Lela’s soft lips. But he clenched his jaw wh
ile the EMT jabbed a syringe into Sean’s arm.
58
Sirens and flashing lights heralded the departure of Jay and Sean and Jimmy the barber.
Lela met Detective Cadena on the sidewalk outside the shop, but she couldn’t shake the memory of Sean’s hand movements. She’d seen that motion before, but where?
“Mrs. Knox said she knew you were working at the Davenport home.” Cadena’s voice sounded a mile away.
Who’d made a similar gesture? “Did she say how she found out?”
“After you’d visited her house, she followed you because you had Freddy’s wallet. She hoped you might lead her to him. When you drove to the Davenports instead, Margie may have surmised you were working on a case that involved the family, but I doubt she was aware of Chuck’s kidnapping.”
“At least my mother didn’t tell her.” Lela still needed to caution Mama not to share speculations about her cases. “How did Margie know Beth needed a housekeeper?”
“Still working on that. We’re piecing together details from a search of her laptop.”
“Did she reveal why she took Sean?”
“Yes. Margie said you were getting too close to her past. She wanted your focus off her at any cost.”
Sean could have been signing or simply showing his agitation. “But she asked for my help.”
“Only with the stalker. She had no idea he was related to one of the barbers she’s suspected of killing. But by then it was too late. You were involved.”
“She confessed?”
Cadena unwrapped another stick of gum and popped it into his mouth. “Not exactly. She mentioned the name of the barber in Oceanside, but then she jabbered incoherently. Probably realized she’d said too much. I get the impression that Mrs. Knox is a conniving, resourceful woman.”
“I agree. Will the barbers’ deaths be reexamined?”
“Oh, yes. We’ve already notified the appropriate police departments. They’ll contact the families involved.”
“Good.” Lela would let the officials call Freddy Ellis.
“One other interesting development. Tony Jackson’s roommate has a girlfriend. To give the couple privacy, Tony occasionally camps out in the toolshed at the bottom of the garden. Mrs. Davenport was not too happy when she heard the news.”
“Did she fire him?”
“No. I think she was relieved he had nothing to do with Sean’s disappearance.”
Lela frowned. Sean’s hand motions were specific. Repeated over and over. “Thank you, Detective. Please keep me updated. I’d like to know why Margie apparently targeted barbers.”
“You’ll have to wait…” Cadena paused as a uniformed officer greeted him.
“Sir?”
Wait?
“Excuse me, sir. We’ve located Mrs. Knox’s vehicle.” The young woman pointed to the west end of the parking lot.
“Good. Thank you.” He turned to Lela. “I’ll be in touch.”
As Cadena and the officer walked away, Lela recalled the sign for wait. Next thing, her fingers were wiggling at her side. Wait.
On the way to her pickup, she reviewed the little she knew about Sean. He used a limited number of words, never full sentences. Want Daddy. No Jay-Jay. Some words were accompanied by signs. Other times he just signed. His frantic finger movements must be significant.
Seated behind the steering wheel, she closed her eyes and replayed all the instances of signing she’d witnessed since working Chuck’s kidnapping case. One scene thrust itself into the foreground. Chuck in a video, his fingers interlocking and flinging apart.
Exactly like Sean’s minus the extra flapping.
She yanked her phone from her pocket and punched the speed dial for Sadie.
“Hey, Lela. What you need?”
“Please send me all the videos we’ve received from Chuck.”
“To your laptop?”
“No, my phone. Hurry.”
“Give me a sec.” Sadie hummed as she executed the computer commands. “Done. You should have them. What’s going on?”
“Thanks. I’ll call later.”
Lela viewed the videos, paying close attention to Chuck’s hands. There. In the first one where his captors allowed him to talk, his hands were in constant motion. Sometimes he finger-spelled—Lela had observed Olivia enough to recognize the actions—and other times he used signs.
“Whoa.” Lela paused the video and then played it in slow-motion. Chuck’s fingers interlocked in front of his chest, then separated, only to come together again. The motion was subtle, not full-blown like Sean’s. She replayed the section. Yes, Chuck’s movements matched Sean’s exactly. And what about the last message where Chuck appeared to be drugged? Was he making the same sign? She replayed that video. Hard to be certain, but possibly.
Enough speculation. Time to visit the hospital.
During the trip, Lela recalled all the words and signs Chuck had used in the long video. Airport. Planes. Big planes. Alley. Lewis St—which they had taken to be Street, but was in fact Stoner. The numerals 330. What else? Football. Dilapidated house. Which word matched the sign in question? Why hadn’t she asked Olivia to pair the words with the signs?
She braked at a red light and thrummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Olivia would know the meaning of the sign. Was there a connection, or was Lela clutching at fragile bits of straw?
A gnawing in her gut told her she was right. There was a reason she’d noticed the motion Sean made. Chuck had used the same sign too many times for it not to be significant.
“Please, dear God, let my reasoning be sound. May these clues lead us to Chuck.” The prayer slipped from her lips almost subconsciously. Jay, you’ve influenced my life more than you’ll ever know.
59
The ride to the hospital was anything but pleasant. Calming effects of the sedative took longer than Jay imagined. Sean’s bizarre behavior and screeching persisted for several minutes. However, by the time the ambulance arrived in the ER bay, the little tyke lay quiet and motionless, except for his chest rising and falling.
Now resting in bed with Beth by his side, the child murmured and fidgeted in his sleep. The doctor had assured Beth that Sean had no physical injuries. Only time would tell if he’d suffer harmful effects from the trauma of Margie’s actions.
Pigheaded me. It was my fault. Jay hung his head. If they’d left when Lela first suggested they visit barbershops, they could have rescued Sean before Margie locked him in the shed. In the dark. Wrists and ankles bound. Mouth taped shut. Unable to move or holler. It would be a long time before Jay could forgive himself for his stubborn ego snit that could have cost Sean his life. At least his nephew was safe. Jay stared at the kid, tossing his head side to side.
Sean should awaken within the hour, according to the doc.
Jay took a swig of vending machine coffee. At least it smelled like coffee. He checked the wall clock. Nearly four. Why hadn’t Lela called or come to the hospital?
Easing out of the chair, he patted Beth’s shoulder. “I’ll go see Olivia.”
“Where is she?”
“Four rooms down. She’d been taken for a CT scan when I first checked.”
Beth nodded and drew Sean’s limp hand to her cheek.
Jay pushed through the door and headed down the hall.
A nurse bustled around Olivia’s bed, adjusting pillows. “There, Miss Ramos. That should make you more comfortable.” With a nod to Jay, she departed.
“Hi, Jay. How’s Sean?” Olivia’s half-closed eyes and the thin line of her lips indicated a degree of pain.
“Asleep, but physically fine as far as we know. And you?”
“No concussion but my head throbs like…like Sean’s in there playing.” Her lips turned up in a little smile.
“No concussion is good news.”
A child screamed.
Adrenaline-heated blood surged through Jay’s body. Sean! He lurched toward the door, and then paused as a nurse carried a toddler into the next ro
om. Chin on chest, he drew in deep breaths to calm his racing pulse. “Sorry, I guess I’m still on edge.”
“I understand. But you looked worried when you entered. How’s Sean, really?” Olivia asked.
Jay described Sean’s rescue and his reactions. “He tried to communicate something amidst his hysteria, but I guess I was too wrapped up in his welfare that I didn’t pay close enough attention to his signs.”
“Show me.”
He demonstrated the intertwined fingers then flinging his hands apart. “I think that’s what Sean was doing. It was hard to isolate a sign from his squirming and attempts to get free of my hold.” He repeated the motion, paused, and then beamed. “Of course. It’s the sign for football. How could I have missed it?” This time he made the sign with more finesse, perfectly, as he remembered from an instruction video he’d studied months ago.
“You’re correct.”
“He called for Daddy every time he made the sign.”
Olivia squinted. “Sean loves to play with his dad’s college football.” She pointed at Jay. “And you know, when Chuck’s home on weekends, he plays ball with him all the time now that he’s older.”
“That must be why Sean used the sign. He misses his daddy.”
He thanked Olivia and left her to rest.
Sean. Football. Chuck. Football.
In the dark recesses of Jay’s mind lurked a connection he couldn’t quite grab.
60
Congestion on the ramp leading to Interstate 5 had vehicles backed up a half mile. Lela chose numerous side streets, heading north to the hospital. Even then, the population of La Jolla swarmed the roads as if on a mission to slow her down. Inching along, horns blaring, and fumes seeping through the air conditioner vent, all fed her pulsating headache. She hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink since breakfast. No wonder the drummers had free reign in her head.
An eternity later, she parked close to the emergency entrance.
No amount of urgent explanation, displaying her IRO credentials, or cajoling on Lela’s part allowed her into the ER.
A last-ditch request for the receptionist to locate Jay met with success.
Day of Reckoning Page 26