by Wanda Dyson
“And now he’ll come after me. At least now I’ll find Amy. I’ll be with her.”
“No! Listen to me, Zoe. He’s not that smart. We will catch this lunatic. I promise you!”
Zoe shook her head with a sad, resigned smile. “He’s already miles ahead of you.”
chapter 16
Thursday, April 20
Karen pulled into Louie’s parking lot. She sat there for a few minutes wiping away tears, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down before going into the restaurant.
In the short time it had taken to drive from the house to Louie’s, she had started falling apart. Doubts crowded out all hope of Jessie’s imminent return. What if the kidnappers had lied? What if they’d already killed Jess? What if Ted was late meeting them? What if they took the money but didn’t give him Jess?
What if? What if? And all of them worst-case scenarios. She pulled down the visor mirror and checked her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks splotchy. She looked exactly the way she felt—like a woman falling apart in the midst of a crisis. Well, it wasn’t going to get any better sitting there. Taking a deep breath, she climbed out of the car and hurried into the restaurant to pick up the food.
Luckily the food was ready, and she wasted no time paying for it and getting out quickly, ignoring the sympathetic or curious glances she received along the way. Keeping her head down, she weaved through the small crowd waiting in line at the door, rushed back to her car, and drove straight home. When she pulled into the driveway, she was surprised to discover Ted’s car was already gone.
She put the food on the table and searched the house, but there was no note. Had the kidnappers called and demanded he come right away? Had she taken too long and made Ted angry? Had she messed up—again?
She sank down in the nearest kitchen chair. She hadn’t meant to fall apart. Now all she could do was worry. God, please don’t let the car break down. Don’t let the kidnappers change their minds or lie to Ted. Please, just let them take the money and give Jess back.
#
Zoe sat curled in a chair, her knees tucked up against her chest, her arms wrapped around them, her bare toes curled over the cushion. “I don’t want you to call him.”
Denise, pacing the room from end to end, waved her arms with as much impatience as frustration. “He’s your father. He needs to know what’s going on.”
“I don’t want him here.”
Denise jammed her fisted hands to her hips. “When are you going to forgive him? He’s been a good father to you.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
“I never blamed him for Amy’s death, Zoe. It wasn’t his fault.”
“Yes, it was!” Zoe’s feet slammed to the floor as she jerked to her feet. “Yes, it was his fault. If he had been home where he was supposed to be, Amy wouldn’t have been a target. She’d be here right now. Married with kids and happy.”
“You don’t know that, Zoe. Life holds no guarantees. And there was no way we could have known Amy was anyone’s target. Believe me, if your father had known, he would have been there.”
Zoe shook her head as she headed for the kitchen. “He was too wrapped up in that bimbo. You remember? The woman he left you for. The one he left all of us for.”
“He made a mistake.”
“And I don’t see you rushing to take him back, Mom.” Zoe yanked open a cabinet door and grabbed a glass. “He’s been trying to reconcile with you ever since Amy was taken, and you’ve refused. So don’t tell me how I need to forgive him.”
Denise leaned her shoulder against the door. “It wasn’t about Amy’s death, Zoe. It was about trusting him in our marriage.”
“Right.” Zoe’s sarcasm ripped through the kitchen as she filled her glass with soda. “He’s been faithful to you for the past twenty years, and you still haven’t taken him back.”
“Why are you so angry at me, Zoe?”
“I’m not!” Zoe stormed past her mother and, after setting down her soda on a side table, flopped back down in her chair.
“Well, it sure seems like it from here. Did you want me to take your father back? Is that why you’re angry at me?” Denise pushed off the doorway and walked over to stand in front of Zoe.
“No! I don’t care whether you take him back or not.”
Denise folded her arms. “Then what exactly is your problem all of a sudden?”
“Nothing!” Zoe went to stand up and Denise stepped forward, neatly trapping Zoe. She gently pushed Zoe back down in the chair.
“You’re not getting up until you tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
“Nothing!”
“Don’t pull that on me, young lady. I know you far too well. Now talk to me.”
Zoe glared at her mother and then dropped her eyes. “Do you remember how upset you were when Amy was taken?”
“Of course I do. It’s not a moment I’m likely to forget.”
Zoe lifted her face and stared at her mother with tears in her eyes. “Let me ask you something, Mom. Would you have been just as distraught if it had been me instead of Amy?”
#
Karen knew she’d probably worn a hole in the living room carpet, but she didn’t care. Ted had been gone for more than four hours and she hadn’t heard a word. Surely he’d picked up Jess by now!
She lifted the corner of the drapes and peeked out once again. Nothing much had changed in the last five minutes. The streetlamps cast streaks of light throughout the neighborhood. Mr. Waltham was strolling down the street with his poodle. The lights were still off across the street at the Marshalls’, but that wasn’t unusual. They both worked late.
Suddenly the phone rang, jarring her to drop the drapes and spin around. She lunged for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Matthews?”
“Yes?”
“This is Detective Casto again. Have you heard from your husband yet?”
“No, I’m sorry, I haven’t.”
“He promised to come in and answer some questions for us right after work. This doesn’t look good for him, Mrs. Matthews.”
“No! You don’t understand! It’s not like that! He’s not trying to avoid you. I swear. As soon as he gets in, I’ll have him call you. He’s just out right now on an important errand.”
“What kind of errand is more important than cooperating in the investigation into your daughter’s disappearance?”
Karen bit her lip, wanting to tell him everything but too frightened to. “I. . .I can’t say. Really, I can’t. But I promise to have him call you.”
She slammed down the phone before he dug out of her that Ted had gone to meet the kidnappers. She couldn’t risk Jess’s life. Or Ted’s. She had to keep silent.
She began to pace again. Oh, Ted. Where are you? And where’s Jess?
chapter 18
Friday, April 21
Karen stared at the clock. Seven-twenty. The sun was a thin shaft of light trying to penetrate the thick curtains drawn tight over the windows.
It had been a long night. Still dressed in the same clothes she’d been wearing the night before, Karen lay atop the navy blue comforter, curled in a fetal position. She hadn’t closed her eyes all night.
Where were Ted and Jess?
Swinging her feet to the floor, she forced herself to get up. Anything could have happened. The car could have broken down, leaving them stranded. The kidnappers could have been very, very late. Ted might have taken Jess to the hospital.
No. He would have called.
She drew open the drapes; blinking at the bright light that instantly flooded the room. He shouldn’t have been gone this long. Oh, Ted, where are you?
The phone rang, jolting her from her thoughts. She rushed to grab for it. “Ted?”
“No, Mrs. Matthews. This is Detective Casto again. I was hoping to talk to your husband.”
“He’s not here, Detective.” She swallowed hard. “He didn’t come home last night.”
#
Zoe pulled the door closed and fumbled with her car keys as she hurried down the sidewalk. Her mother—who had insisted on staying the night with Zoe after they’d cried together, clung together, and talked until the wee hours of the morning—was asleep in Zoe’s guestroom. Zoe wanted to run down to the market and get some of those lemon Danish treats her mother loved.
Halfway down the sidewalk, Zoe passed the old park bench Frank had brought her. She intended to refinish it one of these days, but in the meantime, it added a warm touch to the front yard, even with its badly chipped paint.
She stopped and stared at what was lying on the bench. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone.
“Could you find Detective Johnson for me?” She looked over her shoulder uneasily. Was he watching her?
“Yes. It’s Zoe Shefford. The killer just left a doll in my front yard. I believe it belongs to one of the missing girls.”
#
“JJ, are you listening to me?”
JJ turned around. “What?”
Matt placed both hands on JJ’s desk and leaned forward. “I just talked to Karen Matthews again. She swears her husband went out on some very important errand last night and hasn’t returned.”
“And pigs fly with green wings,” JJ muttered darkly. “Put out an APB.”
“You’re charging him with the kid’s disappearance?” Matt asked with a trace of concern.
“It would get us twenty-four hours to hold and question him if he doesn’t lawyer up. Right now, it looks like he’s on the run, and I don’t want him getting too far. If we’re wrong and he’s at the hospital with a dying friend, then we’ll drop the charges and cut him loose, but I want him found.”
JJ glanced up at the clock and frowned. Almost eight-thirty. He was supposed to brief Harris at ten. As if he had time for another meeting.
Gerry swung the door open, his face flushed with excitement. “Tripp from Homicide called. They found a car half submerged in the river out behind the Grove Shopping Center. There’s blood but no sign of a body.”
“And this is important to me how?”
“The car is registered to Ted Matthews.”
JJ jerked to his feet. “Where is Ted Matthews?”
“They aren’t sure, but it sure looks like he’s dead.”
JJ grabbed his jacket, checked his gun, and headed for the door. “Let’s go, Matt. I knew there was something about those two that didn’t feel right. You drive.”
Marsha came running up just as JJ reached the top of the stairs. Breathlessly, she handed him a phone message. “Zoe Shefford just received another message from the killer.”
JJ stared at the slip of paper then folded it and slipped it into his pocket. “Tell Gerry to get over there and hold the fort. I’ll follow as quick as I can.”
Marsha nodded. “Yes, sir.”
#
JJ barely waited for Matt to bring the car to a stop behind the shopping center before he opened the door and climbed out. The entire area behind the shopping center had been marked off in yellow crime tape. At least six uniformed officers were walking around, making sure no one crossed the line. A small crowd had gathered to watch the action.
JJ flashed his badge, ducked under the tape, and headed over to the tow truck. It was pulling a recent model-year silver BMW out of the water. The doors gaped open. The open trunk lid bounced as the car hung by a chain. Muddy river water gushed out from the interior and underneath.
As soon as all four tires rested solidly on the ground, Vivian Amato took over, leaning into the car and gathering evidence.
JJ walked around the car slowly, looking for collision damage. There was none. He was leaning down, examining the rear undercarriage when Matt returned.
“A couple of teenagers saw the rear of the car just under the water and called it in. There’s no trace of Mr. Matthews, but search and rescue said he could have been swept away by the current.”
Nothing suspicious under the car. “Any skid marks on the road? Any indication that the brakes went out and he ran off the road? Maybe lost control and ended up in the river?”
Matt shook his head. “No skid marks, so I don’t think he lost control. As for the brakes, can’t say until someone gets under there to check.”
“What do you have?” JJ asked Vivian as she backed out of the car, tucking a swab into a plastic bag.
“Blood on the seat and steering wheel. Luggage in the trunk. Appears he was going on a trip. Just didn’t make it. Keys are still in the ignition. Offhand, I’d say he knew the killer—if indeed this was a homicide. No signs of a struggle.”
Vivian pulled off one of her latex gloves and brushed a lock of dark hair back from her face, a light sheen of sweat on her coffee-toned complexion. “One of the officers called Mrs. Matthews. She said he was out on some errand.”
JJ walked around the car, his eyes narrowed, his mind racing. “Did he tell her about the car?”
Vivian shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think he just asked to speak to Mr. Matthews. Check with Tripp. He’s the one who made the call.”
JJ nodded. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Viv. And I’d like the results as soon as you can get them to me.”
“No prob, JJ.”
JJ walked over to Matt, who was standing near the bright yellow tape talking to another officer. “Where’s Tripp?”
“I think he and Walker went over to the Matthews’ house to talk to the wife.”
JJ touched Matt on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
They arrived at the Matthews’ house eighteen minutes later and were met at the door by a tall, thin uniformed officer with a military-style haircut. He jerked his head back toward the kitchen. “If you’re looking for Tripp, he’s back there. We found the knife and bloody clothes. Looks like the wife decided to get rid of her husband. Too bad she didn’t think to get rid of the evidence.”
Suddenly JJ heard Karen Matthews’ voice, shrill enough to rake across his nerves. “I did NOT kill my husband! Do they only send imbeciles to this house?”
JJ smiled. That woman had really missed her calling. She was Hollywood all the way. She did outrage better than anyone he’d ever seen.
He walked into the kitchen to find Karen Matthews sitting at the table, gardening gloves in front of her, eyes flashing with annoyance. No. That was pure rage. Rage strong enough to kill.
Tripp nodded at JJ. “Johnson! I guess you heard.”
JJ nodded. “I just came from the crime scene. What did you find?”
Tripp, a twenty-five-year veteran with heavy jowls and deep-set brown eyes, was well respected and had earned every accolade he’d received. With a scowl, he held up an evidence bag with a large butcher knife tucked inside. “Found this in the dishwasher. Still has blood on it. Whattya bet it matches the missing husband.”
Karen’s anger melted into panic. “This is all a mistake!”
Suddenly Rene came sweeping into the room. “Don’t say another word, Karen. I’ve called an attorney. He’s on his way. Until he gets here, say nothing.”
“But Ted isn’t dead, Rene!”
“Until this misunderstanding is cleared up, I was told you need to stay quiet. Wait for the lawyer. Let him handle this.”
JJ didn’t know whether to applaud or roll his eyes. He looked over at Tripp, who was now scowling at the woman in the doorway. JJ could relate. It wasn’t the first time this woman had stalled an investigation.
JJ’s cell phone rang. He stepped back out of the kitchen to answer it. “Johnson.”
“Hey, boss.” Gerry’s voice rolled with inappropriate laughter. “Heard you’re having fun at the Matthews’ again.”
“Just tell me what you have,” JJ replied dryly.
“A possible lead on our housekeeper. We got a hit from law enforcement in Orlando. Physical description of a car parked at an out-of-the-way motel matches our suspect. They talked to the motel manager. At first he wasn’t too cooperative. When he was asked if he wanted
to be an accessory to kidnapping and a few other felons, he buckled. Says the lady checked in last night with an infant.”
“Gerry?” JJ turned and stared out the front window.
“Yes, sir?”
“I thought I sent you to the Shefford house.”
“Wayne went. I was in the middle of a call from the Orlando police.”
JJ snapped his phone closed and then marched back into the kitchen. “Mrs. Matthews?”
She looked up at him with tears streaking down her cheeks.
“What errand did your husband go on last night? And just in case you don’t realize it, this is no time to hide anything.”
She wrung her hands nervously before she finally spoke in a soft voice. “He said he was going to meet the kidnappers.”
JJ raised one eyebrow skeptically. Tripp looked from the woman to JJ. “What’s going on here?”
“They found the housekeeper and the baby.”
Karen sprang to her feet. “Where?”
“Is that why you killed him, Mrs. Matthews? Because he was having an affair with Nancy Darrington?”
Confusion crossed Karen’s face, but JJ had his theory all lined up and her act wasn’t cutting it any more now than it had when all this started. “Nancy Darrington. Aka Alice Denton.”
“Our housekeeper? That’s ridiculous! He wasn’t having an affair with her, and I didn’t kill him! He’s fine. He went after Jess. He’ll be back soon.”
“I doubt it. Nancy Darrington is being picked up as we speak. In Orlando, Florida.”
#
JJ pulled into Zoe’s driveway just after eleven. Wayne was standing on the porch with a uniformed officer. He handed JJ the evidence bag with the doll inside.
JJ held up the bag. “My guess is that it belongs to Lisa Brandt.”
“You’d be guessing right,” Zoe replied softly.
JJ looked up to find her standing in the doorway. She was pale, trembling, and as far as JJ was concerned, barely holding it together.
