by Wanda Dyson
Janice felt her fingers itching to write down these particulars, but she couldn’t afford to let Freddie think she wasn’t on top of all this information. Old news. Look a little bored. “Yeah, ain’t that the truth. Have you ever seen Shefford work?”
Slipping on his sunglasses, Freddie graced her with one of those lazy, lopsided smiles that had women viewers sighing. “You want the headlines, darlin’, you’re going to have to work for them. I’m not giving you anything. Go do your homework.”
Janice wanted to kick him in the seat of those finely pressed pants as he turned on his heel and strolled off to his air-conditioned truck, his cameraman on his heels like a lap dog.
Fuming, she yanked out her notebook and wrote. Zoe Shefford. Psychic. Top in her field. Called in by governor. Serial killer?
Okay, Freddie. She closed her notebook and headed for her car. I’ll do my homework. I’ll find out everything there is to know about Zoe Shefford and her work. With any luck, I’ll make a few headlines of my own.
She climbed into her car and glared at the air conditioner that hadn’t worked in years as she turned the key. The engine sputtered, caught, and choked as it turned over.
If she was going to get a headline, she was going to have to dig and see what she could find on Zoe Shefford. Maybe a little dirt. No one was spotless. You just had to ferret it out.
#
“Well, what was that all about?” Zoe propped her elbow on the edge of the car door and, leaving Karen Matthews and the accusations behind, looked to JJ for answers.
“Got me.”
Curling her fingers into her hair, Zoe stared blindly out the windshield. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone tell me I was the devil before.”
“Not to your face, maybe.”
Raising both eyebrows, Zoe turned to stare at him. “You think I’m in cahoots with the devil? You can’t be serious.”
“I never said that.” A devious smile flitted across his face. “I think my exact thoughts were ‘decked-out demagogue of deceit’ or some such thing.”
Zoe couldn’t help herself. The laugh erupted involuntarily, filling the car with the pleasant sound of amusement and wonder. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” he admitted with a smirk.
“And now?” she asked.
“Now what?”
“Now what would you call me?”
She could almost feel his gaze taking in everything from the wild curly hair that tumbled down across her shoulders and back, nearly reaching her waist, to the soft-pink silk blouse and flowered skirt, to the dainty leather sandals on bare feet and toes tipped in bright pink polish. “Delightful-looking decked-out demagogue of deceit.”
She laughed again, shaking her head. “We’re making headway.”
He instantly sobered. “Don’t count on it. I’m not blind, but I’m not stupid, either.”
The smile disappeared. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m not oblivious to a pretty woman, but I don’t let any woman lead me around by the nose. You may be attractive, but I’m not going to get all gooey-eyed over you just because you flash that smile and bat those eyelashes.”
Now she was insulted. “Excuse me, but I don’t bat my eyelashes, and you can keep your backhanded compliment.”
He pulled the car into the department parking lot and turned off the engine. “I wasn’t trying to compliment you. I simply answered your question.”
She glared at him as she shoved open her door. “Remind me not to ask you what you think anymore. It’s obviously a one-way trip down a worthless road.” She stepped out of the car, slammed the door, and started to stalk off.
Then she whirled around, leaned down, and glared at him through the open window. “Your father was right about you!”
Zoe saw the color drain quickly from his face, his eyes dark and bleak with something far deeper than pain. She immediately wanted to take back every word but couldn’t. It was too late. She had hit him hard. He wouldn’t forget or forgive easily. And because she couldn’t stand knowing that she had put that look on his face, she spun around and ran to her car.
chapter 6
Wednesday, April 12
JJ gripped the steering wheel, desperately wanting to snap it in half, his knuckles white with the need. His mind hot with the rage. His heart heavy with the pain. Her words had ripped through him like a serrated knife, cutting, slicing, ripping, tearing at his soul.
How did she know those words could reduce him to a hulking mass of insecurity and self-doubt? How could she know? She had claws and wasn’t afraid to use them. Probably took delight in using them, slicing her way through men with a certain personal pleasure.
He loosened his grip on the steering wheel. Well, if she thought she was going to put JJ Johnson under her slim little feet, she had another thing coming.
JJ climbed out of the car, the only hint of his anger revealed by a slammed door.
Matt eyed him cautiously as he barged into his office and dropped into his chair. “Offhand, I’d say it didn’t go well.”
“Karen Matthews and her friend heard the word psychic and kicked us out of the house. Starting going on about the devil and then showed us the door.” He looked up at the clock. It was almost four. “Where’s Gerry and Wayne?”
“Gerry called in—he’s still talking to the Matthews’ neighbors—and Wayne went over to talk to that adoption attorney who said he might have some information for us.”
JJ rubbed his hands over his face, trying to set aside lingering feelings left by Zoe’s attack in order to concentrate on the work ahead. “What about the lab? Anything on the fingerprints?”
Matt nodded, picking up a file and tossing it across the desk to JJ. “Mr. Matthews, Mrs. Matthews, and a few smudged ones that don’t match either the mother or the father but aren’t clear enough to identify.”
JJ flipped open the report and stared at it. “So someone else was there.” He picked up his pen and rolled it through his fingers while thoughts tumbled through his head. “I still can’t shake the feeling that they did something with that baby. Maybe they had help.”
“Oh, before I forget.” Matt stood up, dug into his back pocket, and pulled out a small envelope. He tossed it down in front of JJ. “My sister wanted me to let you know that you’re invited to Amanda’s birthday party on the twenty-ninth.”
JJ picked up the envelope and ripped it open. “Is it time for that child to have another birthday?”
“It’s been a year, pal.”
“How old is she this year?”
“Eleven.”
JJ shook his head as he tossed the birthday invitation onto the desk. “Heavens. . .I’m getting old.”
Matt tilted his head, studying JJ carefully. “Nah, not much gray at all.”
JJ glared. “Funny.”
“I thought so.”
“Tell me you-know-who won’t be there.”
“Pete? He probably will. He usually makes it to all the family events.”
JJ growled low in his throat then coughed. “I feel the flu coming on.”
Matt laughed. “He is a pain, isn’t he?”
“I like most of your family. But your cousin is a jerk.”
Matt threw up his hands. “I’m not saying a word.”
JJ took a deep breath and picked up the Matthews file from his desk. He stared at it. “Matt, get together with Gerry. Tear the Matthews’ lives apart. I want to know everything from parking tickets to anti-war protests. See if there’s anything I can hang my gut instinct on.”
#
When Ted Matthews pulled into the driveway, he was surprised to find himself facing an army of reporters overrunning his front yard.
“Mr. Matthews! Do you have anything to say to the kidnapper?”
Ted gripped his briefcase. “Yes. Return my daughter.”
“Mr. Matthews! What do you think of the way the police are handling this?”
He stopped at the steps and turned around. “I think it’s shame
ful the way they refuse to go look for the kidnapper. They have no leads, so they place the blame on the easiest targets—my wife and me!”
“Mr. Matthews! Will you sue the department for mishandling this case?”
“I have no idea. It depends on whether they get their act together and find the kidnapper.”
“Mr. Matthews, do you think your daughter was taken by the same man who took Gina Sarentino?”
“I have no idea. I’m not a detective. I only know that my daughter,” he choked back a sob, “my precious Jessica, has been taken, and we want her back. This is difficult. . . . It’s pushing my wife to the edge.” He threw up his hands. “Please excuse me.”
If he thought he’d find peace in the house, he was wrong. He set down his briefcase just inside the door. “Karen?”
“In here,” he heard her call out. He stepped into the kitchen to find her sitting at the table with another reporter.
The reporter stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Lorraine Wallace.”
“Ted Matthews.” He draped his suit coat over a chair, pulled it out, and sat down. “Why is the press here?” he asked.
“Because I called them,” she replied, her voice trembling. “A psychic was here today with that detective. While they’re busy trying to pin this on us, the real kidnapper is getting away with our daughter. If the police won’t help, we’ll have to find her ourselves.”
“I just wished you had discussed this with me, Karen. None of this is good for you. You know you haven’t been all that strong since Jess was born.”
Karen swallowed hard, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I’m fine. Really.”
The reporter turned to Ted. “How are you taking this?”
“I’m numb. I just can’t believe someone would do this. What kind of world do we live in when a baby isn’t even safe in her own crib? In her own home?” He sighed heavily and then looked over at Karen, squeezing her hand in a show of comfort. “We were just so happy when Jessica was born. She’s the light of our lives.”
The reporter jotted something down, closed the notebook, turned off her recorder, and rose to her feet. Tomorrow he would read in some paper that he was numb and that Jessica was the light of his life.
He sat while Karen escorted the woman out. He assumed she would return with another reporter and the scenario would begin again, so he was a little surprised when she returned alone. She brushed her fingers through his hair and then kissed his cheek.
“I hope you don’t mind. I probably should have called you first, but I felt so helpless. I had to do something.”
Ted shook his head as he pulled her down in his lap. “You need to check with me on things like this. You know how I worry about you and all this stress. Have you been taking your pills?” He watched her shift her eyes away from him and knew the answer. “You know you need them, honey.” He pushed her up off his lap. “Please go take your pills now. Before you forget again.”
Silently, she nodded and headed for the bathroom.
“Karen?”
She stopped and looked at him, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.
“I have to ask you. Are you sure you didn’t hurt Jess and just blocked it out? Like you killed the kitten?”
chapter 7
Thursday, April 13
Finally, on Thursday morning—three long days after Jessica Matthews disappeared from her crib—JJ arrived at the station to find good news waiting for him in his office.
“We have a lead!” Matt jumped to his feet as the words exploded from his lips.
“On which case?” JJ asked quickly. He set down his coffee on the edge of the desk and slipped out of his jacket.
“Matthews.”
“You’re kidding! Talk to me.” JJ pulled out his chair and sat down. He picked up his coffee and peeled off the lid.
“Gerry was interviewing neighbors. He missed one. Across the street. Lady by the name of. . .” Matt looked down at his notepad. “Ethel Marsh. Anyway, she was away. Now she’s back. Gerry talked to her, and it seems Mrs. Matthews neglected to mention the fact that up until just before the baby disappeared, she had a woman coming in twice a week. Cleaning, babysitting, errands—that sort of thing. And the woman had a key to the Matthews’ house.”
JJ rocked back in his chair. “Did anyone contact Karen Matthews?”
“Not yet. Gerry just called five, maybe ten minutes ago. He is on his way.”
JJ picked up the phone. “Let’s find out about this cleaning woman.”
Karen Matthews answered the phone on the third ring. “Mrs. Matthews? Detective Johnson. Did you have a housekeeper or cleaning woman coming in a couple times a week? One that you might have forgotten to mention to us?”
There was a slight pause before Karen answered. “Oh. You mean Alice Denton? Why is that important?”
JJ picked up a pencil and rolled it between his fingers, trying to keep his frustration from breaking loose. “Did she have a key to your house? Was she familiar with your routine? With the baby?”
“Oh. She quit working for us before Jessica disappeared. I just didn’t think. . .”
JJ snapped the pencil between his fingers and tossed the pieces down angrily. “You didn’t think? The woman had a key to your house and you didn’t think?”
“She gave the key back!” Karen said abruptly. “And I can’t believe Alice would have taken Jessica! She has children of her own to worry about!”
Just then, Gerry opened the door and stepped in. Seeing JJ on the phone, he quietly shut the door behind him and grabbed a chair.
“Just give me the woman’s name and address, Mrs. Matthews.”
JJ snatched a piece of broken pencil, realized what he’d done, and tossed it to the floor. Then he reached for the pen Matt set in front of him.
When he finished writing down the information, he pushed the pad toward Matt. Matt picked it up and, with Gerry leaning over his shoulder, read what JJ had written. Immediately Gerry took the pad and went over to the computer terminal in the corner and began typing away.
“If you think of anyone else, Mrs. Matthews, I’d appreciate you letting us know.” He slammed the receiver down. “I didn’t think,” he snarled in a high-pitched voice, mocking Karen Matthews. “No kidding.”
Gerry looked around in his chair. “There is no Alice Denton at this address. The house is owned by a Mr. Harold Harrison.”
JJ stood up and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s get over to that house. We need to talk to this Alice Denton woman.”
#
The house was a small rambler in an older section of town. The neighborhood was still neat and clean, the border between lower middle class and middle class. No built-in swimming pools in this neighborhood, though you might find a few aboveground K-mart specials.
The house, like most of its neighbors, had a postage-stamp front yard with neatly trimmed shrubs that had probably been planted back in the sixties. No fancy berms and dusty miller here. Daffodils and tulips were the flower of choice.
JJ climbed out of the car and looked around. A woman knelt in a flower bed next door, pulling weeds. He couldn’t tell her age. Her hair and face were buried under a big straw hat.
When the car door slammed, she looked up, shielding her eyes from the morning sun with her hands. “No one lives there,” she yelled out, slowly standing to her feet.
JJ walked across her lawn. “Did someone live there up until recently?”
Up close, he could see that she was in her late fifties—maybe early sixties—with clear green eyes and a soft, clear skin. She took care of herself and would make no apologies for it.
“Mary Deere. Moved last Monday.”
The day Jessica Matthews disappeared. Maybe he’d been wrong about the parents after all.
JJ pulled out his badge. “Detective Johnson. Do you have any idea where she moved to?”
She shook her head. “No. She was a strange one. Kept to herself. Didn’t have much to do with the neighbo
rs. Rarely had anyone over.”
Suddenly the name hit JJ between the eyes. “Wait. Did you say Mary? Not Alice?”
“Mary. Mary Deere. Leastways that’s the name she gave me. Nervous thing, she was. And rude. I called to her one afternoon and she just ignored me. Went right on in the house like I didn’t say a word to her.”
Or because she didn’t recognize the name. “Could you tell me what she looked like?”
The woman started pulling off her garden gloves. “Red hair. Not like Irish red or anything. More dark brown with a lot of red in it. Don’t know if it was natural or not. Didn’t look it. Tall, real thin. Skinny almost. Like she didn’t half eat at all. All bones and angles.”
“How old would you say she was?”
The woman shrugged. “Mid to late thirties maybe.”
“What about a husband? Boyfriend? Children?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Saw one man come and go from time to time, but nothing steady. No kids. Don’t know that she was ever married. If she was, she didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Got all uptight when I asked her if she was married. Nervous-like. Snapped at me that her past was none of my business.”
“Did you ever see her with a child? Maybe an infant?”
The woman paused as she twisted the gloves in her hands. “No. Can’t say that I ever did. Wait. The day before she left, I saw her putting an infant car seat in her car. But never saw an infant.”
“What about the man who owns this house? Do you know him?”
“Oh,” she waved one hand airily. “Harry? Sure I know him. He rents it now that he lives with his daughter and her husband.”
“Do you know where that is? I’d like to talk to him.”
“Sure. Let me get that number for you.”
JJ left Gerry to collect the information while he and Matt strolled around the house. Looking through the window, it appeared as if she’d left in a hurry. Good old Harry would have to clean up the mess she left behind.
