Sufficient Ransom

by Sylvia Sarno

  “Coming through!” Pastor Todd announced. “Make way, please!”

  Ann turned to the first person whose attention she could attract. “Who’re those people?”

  The woman whispered: “Mr. and Mrs. Villarreal.”

  Eager to talk to the family whose daughter had disappeared days before Travis, Ann pushed through the crowd. Outside, she spotted the Villarreals walking with Pastor Todd in the direction of the administrative offices, a row of low-slung buildings several hundred yards past the main hall. Ann reached the trio just as Pastor Todd was unlocking the door to what looked to be his office. “Mr. and Mrs. Villarreal!” she said, trying to catch her breath. “Please, I’d like to talk to you.”

  The Villarreals’ eyes were suspicious as they appraised Ann.

  Pastor Todd tried to mask his obvious annoyance at the interruption with a curt smile. “What is it?”

  Addressing the Villarreals, Ann swallowed hard. “I’m Ann Olson. It’s about your daughter. You see, my son—”

  Pastor Todd cut her off. “Not now, Mrs. Olson. We’re having a private meeting.” He pushed the door open. “Please Reyna and Mateo. Come in.”

  Mateo Villarreal’s eyes darted to Ann and then back to Pannikin, apparently unsure whether he should follow the pastor, or stay put and talk to Ann.

  His lips pursed, Pastor Todd stepped into his office and waited for his guests by the open door.

  Reyna Villarreal moved closer to her husband, a frightened expression on her face.

  “I want to talk about our children,” Ann said. “If now’s not a good time, I can come to your house, or—” She rummaged through her purse. “You can come to mine. Here’s my card. I’ll be home tonight if you want to call.”

  Mateo Villarreal reached for the card.

  Ann tried to sound hopeful. “Or tomorrow even. Promise you’ll call.”

  Eyes averted, Reyna Villarreal stepped into Pastor Todd’s office. Her husband followed reluctantly.

  Hiding her disappointment as best she could, Ann repeated her wish to speak to the parents, before Pastor Todd signaled with the closing of the door that the interview was over.

  Walking to her car, Ann tried to understand what had just transpired. The Villarreals had treated her like an intruder. And why was Pastor Todd annoyed with her, when minutes before he had been so kind?

  CHAPTER 18

  Friday, October 19

  8:00 A.M.

  The next morning at breakfast, Richard was tense and distant.

  “You don’t think it’s weird the Villarreals wouldn’t talk to me?” Ann repeated. It wasn’t like her husband to sit staring out the window. “Richard, are you listening?”

  He slammed his coffee mug down, spilling some of the liquid. The crisp white tablecloth soaked up the spreading stain. “Like I said two minutes ago, maybe they didn’t feel like talking. They were with Pannikin. Probably had something private to say to him. That didn’t occur to you. Did it?”

  “Why’re you mad at me all of a sudden?” Ann said. “What have I done?”

  Richard pushed his chair back and stood up. “What haven’t you done?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Every time I see you, you’re about to run off with that asshole, Chet. Again. And I have no reason to be pissed off?”

  Ann wanted her husband to understand how she felt, but he didn’t look like he cared. “Not everyone is strong like you, Richard,” she said.

  His next words were quieter and more earnest. “I’m strong enough for both of us, Ann. If you would only trust that we’re on the same team. This church stuff—it’s like you’re putting your energy into magic. It’s distracting everyone. As if prayer can bring Travis back. If Chet wanted to be useful he’d get his people off their asses and out there scouring this town for clues.”

  “He did that, Richard. Remember the searches and the volunteer center?”

  “Chet has done some wonderful things,” Richard said. “I practically loved him for it myself. But then—”

  “Are you jealous of Chet?” Ann asked. “Is that what this is about? Because if you are, I’m telling you, you have no reason to be. He’s just a friend.”

  “I am jealous, but not in that way. Can’t you see, Annie? Little by little he’s taking you away from me, feeding you passivity through the back door. It’s changing you.”

  “Think of religion as temporary medicine, until….” Ann’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Until we get Travis back.”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Richard said. “You can’t just believe, and then not believe, whenever you feel like it. By accepting any of it, you’re deeding over your soul to their way. New Way. It’ll have lasting effects on your ability to think. If you accept one thing on faith what’s to stop you from accepting the next? And so on. You open the floodgates, and anything goes.”

  “I don’t see it that way,” Ann said. “I don’t think we can know. And if it’s helping me now, which it is, then maybe there’s something to it.”

  Her husband placed his hands on her arms as if to try to anchor her. He looked directly into her eyes. “It’s times like these when we have to dig deep and tap that perseverance that has served us well our whole lives. Instead, you’re giving up what’s most important: Travis and your own soul. Can’t you see what’s at stake?”

  Ann threw her husband’s hands off. “All you do is rag on me! You say I’m with Chet all the time. What about you? You came home late last night. Where were you?”

  Richard hung his head. “With Kika.”

  Ann blinked. “Kika? What’s she been doing for you?”

  “She called my cell phone while I was leaving the website people,” Richard said. “I told her I was heading over to the Aziz’s. She offered to come along. She’s left you a lot of messages, Ann. You never call her back.”

  It was true, Ann had been avoiding the social worker. Her former enemy had been nice enough, but Ann still felt uncomfortable around her. She asked, “What’re Tom and Julian saying?”

  “Tom’s coming by in a while to give me a report. You know, he asked about you the other day. He wondered how you’re spending your time.” He looked defeated. “He’s noticed you’re never home.”

  Richard’s urging her to reject Chet’s friendship held no sway over Ann. She felt so tired and discouraged. She needed the pastor and his message of redemption to get through the long empty days.

  CHAPTER 19

  Monday, October 22

  12:30 P.M.

  Twenty days had passed since Ann last saw her son. Ann had spent the last three days attending Chet and Pastor Todd’s sermons at New Way, and listening to their earlier preaching on the Internet.

  The situation with Nora wasn’t any better than it was with Richard. Nora seemed to have adopted Richard’s views concerning Ann’s interest in religion. Like Richard, Nora argued that reality-based action was the only thing that would get Travis back. But Ann wasn’t buying it. Every action she had taken to find her son had resulted in spectacular failure. Crippled by self-doubt and dogged with guilt, she was no closer to the truth now than she had been.

  Nora had begged Ann to leave her house for some activity other than church. Tired of hearing her friend nag, Ann had agreed to lunch. To appease Nora, in the hopes that she would lay off, Ann took special care with her appearance. She washed her hair and dressed in a silk pantsuit with sleeves long enough to hide the scars on her arms. She applied lipstick and powder; she even donned a pair of designer sandals. Despite all the make-up and the nice clothes, when Ann looked at herself in the mirror she saw sunken eyes and a mournful cut across her lower face. She looked like a dressed-up zombie.

  Seated in the restaurant before a large window with a sweeping view of the Pacific Ocean, Ann picked at her food, while Nora, evidently in an effort to model good eating habits for her emaciated friend, ate heartily. She even ordered the largest dessert on the menu—Ann’s favorite, bananas Foster—asking the server
to bring two spoons.

  Ann pushed the dessert away. “Thanks, I don’t want any.”

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Nora said. “But once upon a time reason and reality were your friends. Now it’s all about this hazy idea of faith. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but it’s nothing more than wishful thinking.”

  Ann resolved to end the lunch as quickly as possible. Richard, at least, had stopped talking about Chet. But Nora—maybe because Chet was her son, with whom she’d had a troubled history—seemed to relish putting him down.

  “And who knows what Chet’s involved with,” Nora continued, unaware of Ann’s growing impatience. “Just the other day, he told me drug addict types were hanging around the church. When I pressed him for information, he got all annoyed and said it was just a minor misunderstanding.” Nora’s harrumph belied her doubts.

  Ann remembered the private conversation she’d overheard at the prayer group meeting between Chet and the man who was very likely a drug addict. How Chet had seemingly extracted a promise from the man to follow Jesus before he gave him drugs. Richard believed that there had to be a more innocent explanation. Even he couldn’t imagine the pastor being that cruel.

  “Chet can take care of himself,” Nora added. “I’m worried about you, Ann. Religion is sapping your motivation.”

  Ann pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m tired of hearing you criticize me and your own son,” she said in a quiet voice. Before Nora could answer, Ann slipped a hundred-dollar bill under the vase of fresh-cut flowers and walked out of the restaurant.

  When Ann got home, there was a message from Nora on her machine apologizing for lunch and asking Ann to call her. Ann started to punch in her friend’s number but stopped. Her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t want to talk to Nora. Not now. She felt so beaten down. Maybe if she managed to sleep a little she would feel well enough to deal with life. She flipped the phone over and turned the ringer off. She lifted her cell phone out of her purse and turned that off too.

  She left the kitchen. Too despondent to climb the stairs to her bedroom, Ann moved down the hallway and pushed the guestroom door open. She undressed, slipped on a nightgown, and climbed into bed.

  CHAPTER 20

  Tuesday, October 23

  6:30 A.M.

  Early the next morning, Ann and her husband were in the kitchen.

  “Ann, why’s the ringer off?” Richard turned it back on.

  Ann placed her tea cup on the table. “Nora laid into me at lunch yesterday. She wanted to talk after and I didn’t feel up to it. So I muted the phone.”

  “It’s probably not the best idea to turn off the phone while our son is missing.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “It looks like Nora left four messages last night.” Richard punched the voicemail numbers and listened. He hung up the phone, a worried look on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nora wanted to talk about Travis,” Richard said. “It sounds urgent.”

  Ann wanted to hear the messages herself. She picked up the phone and dialed voicemail. The first one was left just before five o’clock, the evening before. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, Ann,” Nora said. “I want to talk to you about today. Please call me.” The second one was left two hours later. “I have to talk to you about Travis, Ann. Call me right away.” Shortly after eight, Nora left a third more urgent message. “Ann or Richard, for that matter. Call me ASAP. It’s about Travis and it’s very important!” Ten minutes later Nora left a fourth and final message. Her voice was soft and urgent. “It’s imperative I speak to you about your son. Call me!”

  Her hands shaking, Ann dialed home Nora’s number. No answer. She left a message, hung up the phone, hit redial, and waited. Where is she? After calling Nora’s cell phone and getting no answer there either, Ann reached for her keys. “I’m going to her house.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Richard said.

  Ann shook her head. “Someone should be here in case Nora’s out of the house and calls again.”

  Ann pressed Nora’s doorbell. She could hear the bell ringing in the hallway inside. Open up, Nora. Her hands to her eyes to block the light, Ann peered into the side window by the door. Through the sheer curtain on the inside, she could make out the lines of the mail table, the marble floor, light streaming in from the back of the house.

  She tried Nora’s home and cell phones again. No answer. At the side gate, a heavy spread of magenta bougainvillea arched over the top of the entrance to the backyard. Ann unlatched the gate and pushed on it. A cascade of dewy water came down on her, wetting her sweatshirt and jeans.

  At the back of the house, the sounds of the ocean mingled with a honking car somewhere down the hill. A layer of water droplets shimmered on the grass and the lawn chairs. The curtains at the panoramic kitchen and living room windows were drawn.

  Nora never shuts the curtains, Ann thought. Something’s wrong. She pounded on the kitchen door. “Nora! It’s Ann. Open up!” She ran to the side of the house. The window shades there were also drawn. “Nora! Where are you?”

  Footsteps crunched on gravel.

  Ann ran back to the grass. “Nora?”

  A dark-haired man in jeans and a green sweater came into view. “I live next door,” the man said. “I heard shouting. Is everything okay?”

  Ann passed her hand over her damp face. “Nora’s my friend. She left me some urgent messages about my son and now she’s not answering. I think something’s wrong.”

  The man’s eyes relaxed. “Did you try the beach? Mrs. March likes to walk in the mornings.”

  Nora did enjoy walking the beach. “I tried her cell phone,” Ann said. “I left messages but she hasn’t called back.”

  “By the way, my name is Ishmael,” the man said, reaching to shake Ann’s hand.

  Ann offered her limp hand. “Maybe I should call the police,” she said, too worried and distracted to carry on a proper conversation.

  “I doubt anything’s wrong,” Ishmael said congenially. “If you want, you can call from my house. It’s cold this morning.” He indicated her clothes. “And you’re all wet.”

  Ann glanced down at her clothes, embarrassed. “Thanks, but I’ll call from my car.”

  Back in her Lexus, Ann tried to reach Chet to see if his mother was with him. Chet wasn’t answering his phone either. It occurred to Ann that Todd Pannikin would know Chet’s whereabouts. When Pannikin answered, she gave a moment of silent thanks. The pastor explained that Chet called to say that he would be coming to work late. Something about visiting one of their congregants over some trouble the family was having. He reassured Ann that Chet would return her call as soon as he got in.

  “I’ll call Tom Long,” Richard said when Ann phoned home. “We’ll meet you in front of the house. And Ann, don’t touch anything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If something happened, you don’t want to get your prints all over the place.”

  “Richard, you don’t really think—

  “Just stay in the car and wait,” he said. “I’ll call Tom now.”

  Ten minutes later, her husband pulled up in front of Nora’s house. Tom Long, Richard explained, had dispatched a patrol car to Nora’s to make sure she was okay. The detective said that he would come by their house a little later on to listen to Nora’s voicemail messages about Travis.

  Within minutes, a police patrol car arrived. Two uniformed officers stepped out and approached the Olsons. Richard greeted the men with a handshake. The officers identified themselves. Officer Resco was a short, slender man with a buzz cut, like a marine. Officer Morales was medium height, heavily muscled, brown-skinned, and handsome.

  After the introductions, Richard said, “I hope we’re not overreacting, but Nora March seems to know something about our son, Travis. He disappeared three weeks ago. Detective Long probably filled you in.”

  Nodding, Officer Morales said, “Det
ective Long did update us on your son’s situation. Let’s take a look around and see what’s what.”

  After ringing the front door bell and getting no answer, the group walked through the gate to the backyard. Hands to their eyes to block the sun, Officers Resco and Morales studied the back of the house. Officer Morales said, “Let’s check the other side.”

  Richard and the policemen walked around the house, the pool, and the gazebo, while Ann stood rooted to the patio, her heart tumbling with anxiety.

  When the men returned, Morales addressed Ann. “We’d like to enter the house and take a look around. We’ll need phone numbers for Mrs. March’s next of kin. If they’re local, they can bring us a key. If they’re not, we’ll need their permission to kick the door in.”

  That sounded a little extreme. “Don’t you need a warrant? Ann asked.

  Officer Resco spoke with a southern drawl. “It depends on the situation. Where the inhabitant of the house in question is elderly, there could be any number of reasons she’s not answering. A stroke. A bad fall, maybe. Delaying entry might cost a life.”

  “There’ll be no need to kick the door in,” Richard said. “Nora’s son, Chet, lives a few miles from here. My wife has his number.”

  Ann gave the men Chet’s phone number. She was relieved Chet answered the call.

  His call ended, Officer Morales addressed Ann and Richard. “Chet March should be here in fifteen minutes with the key. Meanwhile, Officer Resco and I have some calls to make. We’ll be back in a few.”