CHAPTER 74
A modest but tidy brick ranch house stood on a small plot of land at the end of a long country road. A dusty black van sat in the driveway.
Unmarked cars parked just out of sight. The occupants of the cars got out quietly and made their way with stealth toward the house. Crouching and hidden from view by trees and bushes, they watched as a man came out of the house and deposited a plastic bag into a trash can before pulling the can to the curb. As the man started to walk back up the driveway, the law enforcement officers pounced.
CHAPTER 75
“Laggie.” The FBI agent answered the call, his voice curt, his expression strained.
Eliza watched him intently. She could feel her own body grow even tenser. As she listened to his side of the conversation and realized what it meant, Eliza felt a rush of intense disappointment and defeat.
It wasn’t Janie in that house in Kentucky. It was another little girl whose daddy had taken her to Burger King that afternoon. It was she who had been sitting at the table coloring when the police barged into her house. It was another little girl who was where she belonged, safe at home with her parents. Another little girl who, although undoubtedly confused by the excitement and chaos of the police charging into her world, would be soothed and reassured by her mother. Another little girl who would sleep in her own bed tonight.
It wasn’t her Janie.
Her Janie wasn’t safe, wasn’t at home, and didn’t have her mommy to comfort her. Her Janie was confused and scared and, if Stephanie Quick really did have psychic abilities, her Janie was wounded and hurting.
Blood. The psychic had seen blood.
Eliza felt light-headed and the room began to spin before her eyes.
When she awakened, she was lying on the sofa. Mack was bending over her, deeply concerned, his eyes studying her intently.
“It’s all right, Eliza,” he whispered as he stroked her forehead. “It’s all right.”
For a few seconds she was disoriented but, too quickly, the horror of what was happening came flooding into her mind. Who has my baby? Where have they taken her? What are they doing to her? Eliza felt the hope she had been clinging to slipping away.
“No, Mack,” she answered. “It isn’t all right. And it might never be all right again.” Tears seeped from her eyes and she covered her face.
“We’re far from the point where we have to give up,” Mack said firmly, pulling her hands away. “You have to keep on fighting, for Janie and Mrs. Garcia.”
Eliza looked into his eyes and reached up to touch his face. She knew he was right. She had to keep going, had to keep hoping, had to keep paying attention. But she was overwhelmed and overtired and overwrought. She needed more help and she knew it.
Katharine made some tea and toast and watched until Eliza consumed all of it while she waited for her friends to arrive. Within an hour, Annabelle, Margo, and B.J. were at the house. Eliza filled them in on the disappointing false lead in Kentucky and voiced her fears about what Stephanie Quick had said when they’d stood in Janie’s bedroom earlier in the day.
“What do you think?” Eliza asked. “Do you think there could be any possible way this woman is legit? Do you think she can really see that Janie is hurt?”
“Anything’s possible, Eliza,” said Annabelle. “But do I think it’s probable? I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
“I don’t, either,” said B.J. “I think the whole psychic thing is a load of crap. But I also have to say that I remember my grandmother talking about feelings she had about things that were going to happen, and wouldn’t you know, some of them did!”
“She also said something that no one could know about but me,” said Eliza. “She told me that John was glad I still wore the perfume that he loved. The fact that John loved that perfume was never reported, never in a magazine.”
The three colleagues exchanged puzzled looks.
Eliza turned to Margo. “What do you think?” she asked.
“To tell you the truth, I’m skeptical about supernatural gifts, extremely skeptical. But there is at least some research that supports paranormal phenomena. I have friends and patients who are convinced that extrasensory perception exists. You might be surprised by the number of successful businesspeople who go for palm and tarot card readings, who make their plans according to what the fortune-teller says. Are they all crazy?” Margo shrugged. “But I do know I’ve seen coincidences and had lucky guesses myself, picked up the phone to call someone just as that same person rang me. Synchronicity.”
“So your answer is what?” asked Eliza.
“My answer is, I wouldn’t bet the bank on Stephanie Quick and her psychic abilities, not by a long shot,” said Margo. “But, at the same time, as long as you don’t go overboard and become obsessed with everything she says, maybe it doesn’t hurt to at least listen.”
CHAPTER 76
Damn it. He had waited too long to clean the cuts and the children’s aspirin hadn’t done any good. The kid was running a fever and needed professional help. When this was all over, the plan was to return the child to her mother, but in good health.
The lights were on in the Urgentcare Center, but there were still too many cars in the parking lot to risk going inside. One by one, patients and medical personnel straggled out, got into their vehicles and drove away, eventually leaving just one car on the macadam.
“Now, you remember what I told you?” said the man to the little girl. “I’m going to take off my mask. Do not look at my face! And when we get inside, let me do the talking. If you look at me or open your mouth, we’re gonna kill your mother.”
Janie nodded.
“Come on, kid. Let’s go,” he said as he lifted Janie out of his Jeep.
Janie cried out as her legs bent at the knees. He could feel the heat coming from the child’s body as he carried her toward the building. When they got inside, there was no one in the waiting area.
“Hello?” he called out.
A young woman in a blue smock came to the reception desk. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, gesturing to the clock on the wall. “We close at ten o’clock.”
“It’s just five after, Carol,” he said reading her name tag.
“I know,” she said, “but the doctor is gone. I’m just straightening up.”
“Can’t you take a look at her?” he asked. “She’s in a lot of pain.”
“I really shouldn’t,” Carol said. “It’s against the rules, plus I’m not insured.”
“Please,” he begged. “Are you a nurse?”
“In training,” she answered.
“Well, this isn’t brain surgery. The kid just fell and cut her legs, but I’m afraid they might have gotten infected. Couldn’t you just take a look?”
Carol regarded the child’s flushed face. “All right,” she said. “Bring her into the examining room.”
With Janie perched on the edge of the examining table, the woman carefully pulled back the bandages wrapped around the child’s knees. Tears ran down Janie’s cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound except for a few hiccups.
“It’s all right, honey,” said the nursing student. “It’s all right to cry. I know it’s painful. You really hurt yourself, didn’t you?”
Janie nodded.
“How did you do this?” asked Carol.
The man answered for her. “She was running and she fell.”
“What kind of surface was she running on?” she asked.
“Dirt,” the man answered.
The nursing student directed herself to Janie. “Do you know when you had your last tetanus shot, honey?”
Janie didn’t answer.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Go ahead and tell the lady.”
“I had some shots before camp started this summer,” she volunteered.
“Oh, that’s good,” said Carol. “I’m sure your camp requires that everybody is up to date with their tetanus shots.” She looked at the wounds again and shook her head. “These are reall
y nasty-looking, and it’s red and hot where her body is trying to fight the infection. I can clean them up, but I think she really needs to start taking an antibiotic. I can’t write a prescription for that.”
The man gestured to the cabinets that lined the walls. “Don’t you have any on hand?” he asked.
“You know, I think we do have some in the other room,” she said. “I’ll get it after we finish here.”
Carol spoke soothingly to Janie as she cleaned out the cuts. “So you’re going to camp this year,” she said, trying to distract the child. “I used to love camp when I was younger. What camp are you going to?”
“Camp Musquapsink,” Janie answered automatically.
The man squeezed his hand around the child’s arm and she didn’t say another word. He stared at the nursing student but her head was down as she applied ointment and clean white bandages to the wounds. He couldn’t see her face.
“All right,” she said when she was finished. She headed straight for the door. “That should do it. Just wait here and I’ll go see if I can find those antibiotics for you.”
The nursing student went to the front desk and quietly rifled through the trash basket. She pulled the well-read newspaper out, looked at the picture of the little girl on the front page, and quickly scanned the article beneath it.
The child in the examining room resembled the girl in the picture, though she couldn’t be completely certain. The picture captured Janie Blake smiling, full of life. The child she had just treated was solemn and withdrawn. Her eyes were glassy from fever.
But the article dispelled any doubt Carol had about picking up the phone and calling the authorities.
Musquapsink.
Janie Blake had gone to Camp Musquapsink.
“I told you to keep that mouth of yours shut,” sneered the man. “Didn’t I?”
Janie’s eyes were wide with fear, her bottom lip trembling, but she stared straight ahead, afraid to look at him.
“Didn’t I? Answer me,” he demanded.
“Yes.” The child could barely get the word out.
“Damn you,” he hissed.
He opened a succession of drawers in the examining room until he found the instrument he wanted.
Carol made the call to the number listed in the article. Her heart pounded as the phone rang over and over again. Finally, someone answered.
“Find Janie hotline. May I help you?”
“Yes,” Carol whispered. “I think Janie Blake is—”
“I’m sorry. Will you please speak up? I can’t hear you. Please, repeat what you said.”
The young woman started to clear her throat but, before she could, the ice-cold scalpel sliced across it.
She heard a vehicle approaching the house and looked out the window to see if it was the Jeep. It was. Hurriedly, she pulled on her mask.
The front door opened and the child walked in, head down, her knees wrapped in snowy white gauze.
She led Janie into the bedroom and turned on the television set. “You can watch it until you fall asleep,” she said. After she shut the bedroom door behind her, she turned her attention to the man.
“I’m glad you took her to the Urgentcare,” she said, taking off her mask. “That was the right thing to do.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re glad,” he said, “because that little trip came with a heavy price tag.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Something came up at the Urgentcare. A situation.”
“What kind of situation?” she asked with trepidation.
“The girl who helped us figured out who Janie was.”
“Oh my God,” she said, sinking down on the couch. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure!” he yelled. “She was on the phone saying Janie’s name when I killed her.”
She stared at him, unable to utter a word.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he demanded.
“I heard you. I just can’t believe what I heard.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “What have you done to us?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t done a damn thing to us. It’s the girl at the Urgentcare who has the problem.”
She looked at him with disbelief and fear. “No one was supposed to get hurt. There was nothing in the plan about anyone getting killed.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly. “Well, the plan changed.”
CHAPTER 77
Just before midnight, the ransom demand came by fax to the KEY News Broadcast Center in New York City. The number to which it had been sent was the one available on the KEY News Web site.
We have Janie Blake. She is alive and well but wants to come home. To get her back you have to pay two million dollars in unmarked bills. Get the money ready and we will be in touch with further directions.
The FBI was able to determine that the fax had been sent from the FedEx and Kinko’s Office and Print on West Seventy-second Street in Manhattan.
THURSDAY JULY 24
CHAPTER 78
“Wake up, Eliza, wake up.” Mack shook her arm.
Eliza bolted upright. “What? What is it?” she asked fearfully.
“There’s been a ransom demand, Eliza.”
“She’s alive then,” Eliza whispered, closing her eyes. “Thank you, God. Thank you.”
“They say she’s fine,” said Mack.
“What do they want?”
“Two million dollars,” answered Mack. “They want it in unmarked bills. The fax said to get the money together and they’ll let us know what to do next.”
Eliza looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was far too early in the morning to reach anyone at the bank. But she had the home number for her personal investment counselor, Kathy Joyal. Eliza knew that Kathy would willingly take her call at any hour, especially in this situation.
Eliza reached for the phone, profoundly grateful that there was finally something she herself could do to get her child back.
Though Mack said he wanted to grab a few hours of rest, Eliza knew there was no way that she’d be able to go back to sleep. She went to the kitchen and put on a pot of fresh coffee. As she offered the black brew to the agents posted in the garage, she could feel a change in the atmosphere. Last night, when the Kentucky lead had turned out to be bogus, the mood had been morose. Now, even though it was the middle of the night, the agents were wide awake and energized. The FBI was expert in dealing with ransom demands and the fax was just what they had been waiting for.
“Do you think they’ll fax again?” asked Eliza.
“It’s hard to say,” considered Agent Gebhardt. “We may not be dealing with a mastermind here. He’s already making mistakes.”
“What kind?”
“Well, it wasn’t too bright to send the fax from Kinko’s,” Gebhardt answered. “Too easy to trace and lots of people around as witnesses.”
The time passed very slowly. At 5:00 A.M., Eliza turned on the television set. The early morning WKEY-TV news broadcast led with the abduction.
“Day four in the Janie Blake story and the seven-year-old daughter of KEY News anchorwoman Eliza Blake is still missing after her disappearance Monday morning from the day camp she was attending.”
Video of a one-level brick house appeared on the screen. “Yesterday, law enforcement officials, acting on a tip, stormed the house of a Kentucky family, suspecting that Janie was being held inside.”
A clean-shaven man with a slightly receding hairline spoke. “I understand. I truly do and I don’t harbor any ill feelings. I have a daughter of my own and, if she was missing, I would want the police to do anything they could to find her.”
Eliza wrote down the man’s name, intending to ask Paige to send some flowers or a fruit basket to the family. Then, it suddenly occurred to her that since the fax demanding a ransom had been sent to KEY just before midnight, the news organization must know about it by now. Yet, there was no mention of it on the local broadcast. She was relieved about that. She wanted Janie back, safe and sound,
and she didn’t want media coverage jeopardizing that goal.
To be on the safe side, she called Range Bullock at home. He agreed that KEY News would not report that a ransom demand had been made; in fact, he had already issued that directive. “You can imagine how well that’s going over with Linus,” said Range. “Anything to drive the story and drive ratings.”
“It must be killing him,” said Eliza. “I’m going to call him myself to thank him for holding back.”
She called the KEY to America newsroom and asked for the executive producer.
“Eliza?”
“Yes.”
“It’s me. Annabelle.”
“What are you doing answering the phone?”
“It’s mayhem around here. Everybody is pitching in and doing something,” said Annabelle. “I heard about the ransom demand. How are you?”
“Actually, I think it’s a good thing,” said Eliza. “At least now we’ve heard from these monsters and that gives the FBI something to go on.”
“Right,” said Annabelle. “The boss is champing at the bit to report it.”
“I’ll bet he is,” said Eliza. “That’s why I want to speak with him. I don’t want anything screwing this up.”
“All right, I’ll get him,” said Annabelle. Before getting off the phone, she added, “I hope this whole thing is over soon, Eliza. I’ll be out there later this morning with B.J. And remember, you can call me anywhere, anytime.”
The start of the conversation with Linus Nazareth was short and to the point. Linus made a big deal over the fact that he was holding back on the ransom demand information and Eliza thanked him profusely for doing so.
It Only Takes a Moment Page 16
