Ulterior Motives

by Terri Blackstock

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It didn’t feel like Sunday. To Jenny, the fact that her dad and Anne didn’t care to go to church depressed her. It had felt weird, getting ready and trying not to wake them, and then there had been all the wailing when Emily had wanted to go with Christy, but her mother had awakened and tried to talk her out of it. Sharon had finally shamed Ben and Anne into letting the child go, and they had angrily gotten her dressed. The truth was, Jenny hadn’t been so keen on going herself, since everyone there knew that her father had been arrested for murder. It was embarrassing, humiliating. But she needed their prayers, she thought, and she supposed that the gossip she would have to endure was worth it.

  She had felt bad for her mother when she’d had to come home from church and cook a huge meal that would feed seven, since neither Ben nor Anne had shown enough initiative to start lunch before they’d gotten home. Then she had helped her mother clean up, since Anne stayed in the same room with Sharon as little as possible.

  When Anne had asked Jenny to go to the store to get some more formula and diapers for Bobby, Jenny had welcomed the opportunity to get out of the tense house. She had volunteered to take Emily and Christy with her, hoping to give her mother a little reprieve from all her responsibility. Since she was going anyway, Sharon had given her a list of other things they needed.

  Now, as she pulled into the parking lot of the Kroger and saw how crowded it was, Jenny almost regretted agreeing to come. She cut off the car and looked into the backseat at the two blonde girls seat-belted in and holding hands. “Now, girls, I have a list,” she said. “Don’t beg me for candy and stuff. It’ll drive me crazy.”

  Christy looked crestfallen. “Not even gum? Not even Pop-sicles?”

  “Not even Reeses?” Emily asked.

  “No! Nothing! Now, come on.”

  In the store entryway, Jenny spotted a video game. Perfect. She pulled out some quarters and handed them to the girls. “Here. Stay and play the game for a while. When you finish, come find me.”

  “Will you get Popsicles?” Christy asked.

  “And String Things? And Reeses?” Emily added.

  “No junk. Mom said.”

  “That’s not junk. Popsicles are not junk!”

  “Okay, but just Popsicles.”

  “But I need String Things,” Emily whined. “Mommy always puts String Things in my lunches for school. I need String Things for tomorrow.”

  “All right,” Jenny gave in. “I’ll get some. Just go play. Please!”

  The two girls headed for the game. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jenny went into the store, determined to fill her mother’s list as quickly as she could.

  Emily was not as good at video games as Christy was, and she quickly “died.” Because they had both spent their fifty cents, they began to look around for something else to do.

  Spotting the bubble gum machines outside, they headed through the electric doors. Christy checked each slot to see if anyone had forgotten their candy, while Emily wound each handle to see if it would miraculously release some.

  They had almost given up when a man came by and, chuckling, reached into his pocket for a quarter for each of them. “Here you go, girls. It’s on me.”

  Christy looked up at the man who wore a straw Panama hat and dark glasses. “No, thanks, Mister. I’m not allowed to take things from strangers.”

  “I’m no stranger,” he said with a kindly smile. “Not to Emily.” He pulled his glasses off briefly and winked at the child.

  Her eyes rounded. “You’re Daddy’s friend.”

  “You know my daddy?” Christy asked.

  “I certainly do.” The man smiled and put his glasses back on, then inserted the money into a machine, turned the knob, and caught the candy as it came out. Giving a piece to each of them, he nodded toward his car. “As a matter of fact, I have something in the car that your father needs. Would you girls mind coming with me to get it? You could take it to him.” He squeezed Emily’s nose. “I also have some jelly beans in the car. If you like them—”

  “We do!” Emily cried. “Come on, Christy!”

  The two girls bounced out behind him as he led them to his car.

  Jenny pushed her loaded cart to the long line at the cash register. Thankful that her sisters had not hounded her while she was shopping, she glanced over at the play area. She didn’t see them.

  Sighing, she got out of line and went to the candy aisle, expecting to find them there. There were children admiring the colorful bags of treats for the Valentine season, but Christy and Emily weren’t among them.

  Frustrated, she decided to start at one end of the store and look down each aisle until she found them. She should have told them to stay where they were. And she should have known that they wouldn’t.

  She looked up every aisle in the huge store, to no avail. Again, she checked the play area, but they weren’t there.

  Then she remembered that Christy loved the candy machines, so she abandoned her cart and looked through the glass doors. No one was there.

  She was beginning to get worried, but her anger at them overpowered it. She went to the manager’s booth at the front of the store, and waited in line until it was her turn. “Could you please page my sisters over the intercom? They’re somewhere in the store, but I can’t find them.”

  They took down the little girls’ names and sent out a page. When five minutes had passed with no answer, Jenny began to worry. Abandoning her cart, she went back to the first aisle; then her speed picked up as she turned a corner and ran into a stock boy, causing him to drop a box of cans. “I’m sorry!” she said, helping him pick them up. “Have you seen two little girls with blonde hair?”

  “No,” he said, annoyed. “I haven’t.”

  She looked back at the front desk. The children still hadn’t answered the page. Quickly, she ran back to the front. “Look,” she said, breathless, “they’ve got to be here.”

  “I’ll try again,” the manager said. “Just hold on.”

  The page went out again, but there was still no answer. She headed outside, thinking they may have broken the cardinal rule of leaving the store, and she searched up and down the sidewalk for them. Beginning to get frantic, she ran out to her car and looked inside. They weren’t there.

  Where could they be?

  Perspiring and breathless, she ran back inside and headed to the back of the store where the swinging doors led into the warehouse. She burst through and found two workers. “Have you seen two little blonde-haired girls? Five and six years old? One was wearing . . . a little red outfit with hearts on it, and the other was . . . Oh, I don’t know what Emily was wearing!”

  “No, they haven’t been back here,” one of them said.

  By now her breath was coming in gasps, and she pushed out of the doors and ran up each aisle and down the next, calling out for them at the top of her voice. Store patrons were staring, and a few started to join her in the hunt.

  Realizing the problem was serious, the manager got on the intercom. “If anyone has seen two little blonde girls, ages five and six, who answer to the names Emily and Christy, would you please come to the front desk?”

  Jenny was in tears by the time she had searched the whole store a second time. Frantic, she made her way to the desk. A customer was standing there talking to the manager.

  “Miss?” the manager said, now visibly shaken. “This woman says she saw the children getting into a car with someone. We’ve called the police.”

  “A car?” Jenny asked, breathing in a sob. “They couldn’t have. They were with me. They know better than that!”

  “One of the little girls had on a red tunic with hearts and some red leggings, and the other one was wearing something purple, I think,” the woman said.

  Jenny felt dizzy, and her heart sank. “That was them. Who were they with?”

  “A man,” the woman said. “He had on a straw hat and sunglasses. I think his hair was brown, but I’m not sure. He was maybe
5'9" or 5'10", average weight. They looked like they knew him and got into the car willingly. They were smiling and laughing, so I didn’t think anything of it.”

  “They couldn’t have!” She began to tremble, then asked, “Can I use your phone? I have to call my parents.”

  Her hand trembled as she tried to dial the number. The phone rang, and she closed her eyes. After a moment, her father answered. “Hello?”

  “Daddy?” she said, trying to control her voice. “You didn’t come and pick up Christy and Emily, did you?”

  “What do you mean, did I pick them up?”

  “Did you or Mom pick them up?” she shouted.

  “No. No one’s gone anywhere.”

  She sobbed again, and dropped her head on the counter. “Daddy, someone’s taken them! They’re gone!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Where are you taking us?” Christy asked tearfully as the man drove much too fast down Highway 19 leading out of St. Clair.

  He didn’t answer.

  “He lied,” Emily whispered. “He didn’t have any jelly beans.”

  “We’re gonna get in so much trouble,” Christy whispered. “Jenny’s gonna kill us. And Mommy will punish me for my whole life.”

  “Quiet back there,” the man barked. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

  They stopped talking, but continued to cry.

  “Did you hear me? I told you to shut up!”

  The girls put their arms around each other, trembling with fear and trying hard not to make noise.

  He pulled off of the highway and turned onto a long dirt road.

  “Maybe he’s taking us home,” Emily whispered.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then where is he taking us? What is he gonna do with us?”

  “I don’t know,” Christy said. “Maybe he’s not really mean. Maybe he just likes little girls.”

  “He doesn’t act like he likes us,” Emily whispered. “Maybe he’s gonna hurt us.”

  They clung to each other as he turned down a dirt road and took them far into a patch of woods. Finally, they came to a small structure that looked like a toolshed. The car stopped.

  The back door opened, and the man reached for Christy’s arm. “Come on. Get out.”

  She slid across the seat and got out, then with a burst of adrenaline, kicked the man with all her might. “Run, Emily!”

  Emily took off running, but the man grabbed Christy around the waist and bolted after the other child. He caught her before she could get far, and grabbing a fistful of hair to guide her, he pointed them toward the shack.

  “See that?” he asked through his teeth. “That’s where we’re going.”

  Christy’s crying grew louder, and Emily screamed and struggled to make him let go of her hair. He dragged them, writhing and trying to break free, to the door of the shed, opened it, and threw them in. They each hit the dirt floor, and Christy bumped her head on the edge of a shelf. She screamed out, but the man only slammed the door behind them.

  Christy curled into a ball, holding her cut head as warm blood seeped around her fingers.

  They heard him locking the door, and then going back to his car. The car door slammed, the motor roared to life, and he drove off.

  Emily was sobbing and groping around, trying to find Christy. “Christy, where are you?”

  “Here,” she cried.

  Emily’s hand reached out to touch her, and they clung to each other. “I want Daddy,” Emily cried.

  “Me too,” Christy sobbed. Blood dripped into her eyes, burning them, and she wiped it on her sleeve. On her hands and knees, she groped until she found the wall, then the door. Emily followed close behind her, her little fist clutching the back of her shirt. Christy slid her hand up the door until she found the doorknob. She jiggled it, but it had been locked from the outside.

  She tried to stand up, but Emily cried, “Don’t leave me! I can’t see!”

  “I’m right here. I’m just standing up.”

  Emily stood with her, still clinging to her. She pushed on the door as hard as she could, then rammed her small shoulder against the wood, like she’d seen people do on TV. It was no use.

  She kicked it with all her might, then began to bang on it. “Help, somebody! Let us out!” she screamed, pounding it with her fists. Emily joined her, pounding and screaming at the top of her lungs.

  “Let us out! Help! Let us out!”

  But they could hear the car driving away on the long gravel road.

  As he drove away, Nelson Chamberlain smiled with satisfaction. Ben was probably squirming by now and preparing to make the exchange. Nelson had just provided Ben with an irresistible incentive.

  He’d definitely gotten lucky. He had expected to have to take the teenager, too, which would have made the whole situation much more difficult to manage. But when she’d left the girls to fend for themselves, he’d had the perfect opportunity.

  His smile faded, as he realized how deep he had gotten. Normally, he didn’t like to get his hands dirty. It had been unpleasant enough working with the thug who’d had the fake IDs and credit cards made for him—one set under Ben Robinson’s name so he could purchase the gun, and another set under the name of John Lieber. The murder had been even more distasteful. He had been lucky enough to find the money clip with Ben’s initials; Ben had left it behind in the medicine cabinet of the gallery’s apartment—along with a hairbrush, which had provided the strands of Ben’s hair that Nelson had planted in Dubose’s hands. Yes, all of this had been distasteful, but he’d had no choice.

  He had come this far and didn’t intend to stop now. Too much was invested. Too much was at stake. It wasn’t easy maintaining the lifestyle he loved. A few bad investments had seriously depleted his funds. The financial injection he’d get from this transaction was essential. Things had to work out before his creditors and generous friends abroad realized he wasn’t what they thought he was.

  The hundred thousand dollars he’d donated for Ben’s bond money had been well worth it. Ben couldn’t deliver anything if he was behind bars. It would have been useful to frame Ben for Dubose’s murder—that had been his original plan, and a good one. But now there was something he needed more than a fall guy, and only Ben knew where it was. This kidnapping, of course, would transfer suspicion away from Ben, even for the murder. But it couldn’t be helped. Nelson was desperate to make the delivery to Boudreaux quickly. Besides, everyone thought he was still out of the country, so even if they did look earnestly for another culprit, they would never suspect him.

  If things went the way he expected, he should have what he wanted and truly be out of the country, and out from under any chance of suspicion, before the sun came up tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The sound of Sharon’s wailing when she heard the news cut through the walls of her house and could be heard all over the neighborhood. She ran out to her car and screeched out of the driveway. Ben, Anne, and Bobby were right behind her in the station wagon.

  They were at the grocery store parking lot in record time, and saw the fleet of police cars with their blue lights flashing. Sharon pulled her car up to where she saw Larry and Tony with Jenny, slammed it into park, and jumped out. Ben’s car screeched to a halt behind her.

  “Jenny, where are they?” she shouted. “Weren’t you watching them?”

  Jenny was sobbing, and Tony set his arm around the teen to steady her as she looked up at her mother. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I lost them. I let them play at the video game, and the next thing I knew they were gone!”

  “What are you doing to find them?” she asked Tony. “They’re so little. They must be scared to death. You’ve got to find them!” Her voice was rising in pitch with each word, and Larry tried to calm her. Ben was standing behind her now, and Larry faced them both.

  “We have an eyewitness who saw a brown-haired man with a straw hat and sunglasses, average weight, 5'9" or 5'10". Does that sound familiar to you?”

/>   Sharon looked helpless. “It sounds like a hundred people I know.”

  “We also have a description of the car. It was a blue Taurus, a rental car, but our witness didn’t notice the agency. We also have an all points bulletin out on it. We’ve got cars at checkpoints all over St. Clair, and we’ve notified the state police to watch for him if he leaves town with them. But right now we need your help. I know you’re upset, but we need to keep our heads clear so that we can move as fast as we can.”

  “What do you need?” Ben asked.

  “We need pictures so we can distribute them all over the area. And we need to set up some phone lines in your house so that we can trace any ransom call you might get.”

  “He said he would take something of mine,” Ben said. “He threatened me, the night he realized I didn’t deliver what he wanted.”

  Furiously, Sharon stood up to face Ben. “It’s him, isn’t it? He took our children!” She shoved Ben back against another police car. “Give him what he wants, Ben!” she shouted. “Give him what he wants so I can get my baby back!”

  “I . . . don’t . . . know . . . what he wants,” Ben said through his teeth. “If I knew, I’d take it in two seconds flat. I have two kidnapped children, Sharon. Don’t you think I would do whatever I could to—”

  “Stop it!” Anne commanded as she stepped between them. “We don’t have time for this. We have to find them!”

  Sharon swung around to Tony and grabbed the lapels of his sport coat. “If you’d listened when Ben told you! If you’d looked for the killer instead of pinning it on him—this maniac wouldn’t have my child!”

  She saw that television crews were beginning to gather, and one camera was aimed at her. Shaking her head, she pushed through the crowd and back to her car. “I’m going after them. I’ll find them!”

  Tony stopped her. “Sharon, you can’t! We have people looking for them, but we need your help here.”

  “All right!” she screamed, shaking his hands off of her. “Tell me what to do! But don’t make me just sit here while he gets farther away with the girls!”