“Actually, yes. Jillian was better after having her stomach pumped. There weren’t many pills left in the bottle. I was able to talk with her this morning and, as we were beginning to suspect, she was Martha’s stalker.”
“Why would she do that?” Sarah asked, finding the concept incomprehensible. “Why would one woman want to terrorize another like that?”
“Jealousy. It’s usually about jealousy. She was convinced Martha was having an affair with her husband. Alan came in the room right after I talked with her, and she pleaded with him to forgive her. She said she was convinced he was going to leave her.”
“Is something wrong with the woman?”
“She certainly has emotional problems, but from what she told me, and if it’s even true, this is something Alan has done in the past. She is suspicious of everyone he spends time with. Alan denied it to me, but who knows where the truth lies.”
“Will she be prosecuted for stalking?”
“I don’t think so, Sarah. She stayed on public streets and never approached Martha. Maybe your daughter could get a restraining order, but even that is doubtful. I don’t think Martha will have anything to worry about. In fact, Alan is talking about transferring to the New York office.”
“For Martha’s sake, I hope he does,” Sarah replied.
* * * * *
“Hi, sweetie,” Charles called out to Sarah as he walked in the door without knocking. “Oh,” he said, looking back at the door and appearing to be concerned.
“That’s fine, Charles. No need to knock,” she responded, assuming that was the source of his concern.
“It should be locked,” he said under his breath as he walked back to set the dead bolt.
“It’s open for a reason, Charles. Sophie is on her way over.” Locking the door had been a bone of contention from the first day Charles visited. Sarah was accustomed to living in a safe neighborhood before she moved to Cunningham Village and was now living with a security gate and staff who patrolled the streets.
Charles, on the other hand, spent his career working with criminals and the victims of crime. Their perspectives were totally different. It was one issue, however, about which Sarah was willing to compromise. After numerous clashes, she realized that his motivation was simply her safety. She now locked the door, even when she was home, and took the emergency key out from under the flowerpot.
“Sorry,” he responded and unlocked the door just as Sophie was coming up the walk.
Once Sophie was settled at the kitchen table and Sarah had poured coffee and pulled the freshly baked cherry pie out of the oven, Charles announced, “You got here just in time, Sophie. I was just about to tell Sarah what Blackburn had to say.”
“Oh! You heard from him!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Who’s Blackburn?” Sophie asked.
“Greyson’s parole officer,” Sarah responded eager to hear what Charles had to say. “And Greyson is …”
“I know. I know. What do you think? I’m an old, demented woman?”
Ignoring her comment, Sarah turned to Charles, “What did he have to say? Does he know where Greyson is?”
“Not yet. Greyson didn’t fly out of Billings, and there’s no record of him renting a car. His car was located near the bus station, so we assume he left by bus.”
“What’s next?” Sarah asked, looking disappointed.
“Blackburn talked to the girlfriend again, and she admitted she heard from him yesterday. He didn’t say where he was, but he expected to be back home this week.”
Sarah said reluctantly, “What does that mean? He’s taking her back to Billings, or …” She stopped talking and covered her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes grew large and frightened. “Oh, Charles. Is he going to kill her?”
“Sarah, we can’t assume anything. He may not even be here. I told Blackburn to go back to the car rental guys. Maybe he rented the car under another name.”
“Wouldn’t he need identification?”
“True, but remember he’s a criminal. There are ways.”
The three picked at their pies, but none had any appetite. Suddenly Sophie jumped out of her chair sending her cane flying across the room. She screamed frantically, “What’s that creature on Barney’s back? A rat?”
“It’s okay,” Charles said, jumping up to help her back into her chair before she fell. Sarah retrieved the cane and took it to her.
“That’s not a rat, Sophie.” She picked up the little kitten and carried it to Sophie’s chair. “See, it’s a kitten. Barney found her and we brought her home.” She laid the kitten in Sophie’s lap. Sophie sputtered a bit and acted annoyed, but she patted the kitten’s little back tenderly as Sarah was picking her up.
Barney kept his eyes on Bootsy and wagged his tail when he saw that Sarah was returning her to their quilt.
After Sophie left, Charles and Sarah decided to take Barney out for some fresh air. “Do you think it’s too cold to walk to the fabric store? When Martha is back home, I’d like to make a little quilt for Bootsy.” Sarah made a conscious effort to say when Martha is back home, trying not to acknowledge, even to herself, that it might never happen.
“It’s cold. Why don’t I drive us to the north side of the park. We can walk to Stitches from there. That way Barney can get some exercise, and we won’t freeze.” Again, with Barney strongly objecting about leaving the cat, they gently pushed him out the front door and into the car. He looked out the back window until his home was long out of sight. Once they parked and started walking, he immediately got with the program and trotted along by their side with his head and tail held high.
Ruth had taken the day off, but Anna was working in the shop. She met Sarah at the door, looking worried. “Has there been any word about your daughter?” she asked, giving Sarah a sympathetic look. “I’ve been so worried.”
Sarah wrapped her fingers protectively around the cell phone in her pocket. “Nothing yet,” she responded looking toward Charles. “You have your cell phone with you, right?”
“Yes, sweetie. I have it right here.” As he patted his chest pocket, Sarah realized she had asked him the same question as they were leaving the house. She smiled, appreciating his patience.
Once she caught Anna up on what they knew about Martha’s disappearance, she told her about the new kitten and her intention to make a small quilt. Anna suggested she use flannel so it would be soft and cuddly. Together they went into Ruth’s flannel section, and Sarah pulled down a bolt of flannel with baby kittens in pinks and yellows. Anna reached for the fat quarter box and suggested that Sarah cut four-inch squares from several different fabrics for the quilt top and that she use the kitten flannel for the back. Sarah loved the idea and together they figured out that she would need four or five fat quarters for the top and a yard and half from the bolt for the back and the binding.
“That’s going to make a pretty big quilt,” Sarah said frowning. “She’s only this big,” she added holding her hand out to indicate the kitten would fit in her hand.
“Just wait! They grow up fast,” Anna responded. “Do you have batting?”
“Yes, plenty. But how should I quilt it?”
“Why don’t you tie it using long strands of embroidery floss? Your kitty will love playing with the loose ends.” Anna showed her how to make the knot for a tied quilt, and they chose a multicolored skein that complemented the fabric. As Anna was ringing up the sale, Charles moved closer and pulled out his wallet.
“Not this time, Charles. I’ll pay here. I have other plans for your money,” she added with a smile. As they left the shop, she turned to the right and led them up the street to the pet store.
“And why are we here?” he asked as they reached the door.
“Toys! Every little girl needs toys.” Charles smiled and looked down at Barney. “Is he allowed in the store?”
Sarah pointed to the sign on the door. “Leashed animals of all kinds welcome.”
Once they were inside, Barney became som
ewhat difficult to handle. He tried to drag Charles to the birdcages, but on the way he spotted the kittens. He began to whine and bark in his pleading way.
“No, Barney. One cat is all we can handle,” Sarah called to him. “Come help me pick out a kitty bed.”
By the time Charles wrestled Barney over to the opposite side of the store, Sarah was already holding a tiny pink fur bed and had a pleased smile on her face. Suddenly her cell phone rang, and the blood drained from her face giving her a pallor that frightened Charles.
“Are you okay?” he asked before she could answer the phone.
Nodding to him, she pushed Talk and said, “Hello?”
When she heard the words, “Hi, Mom,” her heart seemed to stop, but then she realized it was Jason’s wife calling. Jennifer rarely called Sarah “Mom” but had been saying it more the past few days. Generally, it was fine with Sarah, but right now she yearned to hear those words from her daughter.
“Hi, Jenny.” She listened for a few moments, then responded, “No, there’s still no word. I’ll call you the minute I hear anything.” After she hung up, she leaned against Charles, and her voice cracked as she said, “I thought it was Martha.”
“I know,” he responded, holding her close.
Once she got her emotions under control, she returned to the shelf of cat beds and pulled out the pink fur bed. “Isn’t this adorable?”
“Yes, it’s certainly cute. But, as Anna pointed out, your kitten will be hanging over the sides in a few months.”
“True,” she responded reluctantly, returning the bed to the shelf.
He picked up another bed, still pink and feminine but larger. “This should work.”
“Okay,” she said doubtfully, then added, “I could make her a pillow to use up some of the extra space so she’ll feel cozy. Let’s take a look at the toys.”
They picked out several small toys that seemed like things that would appeal to the playful kitten. Two had feathers, two were little critters, and one included a small scratching post that the sales person said she would be interested in very soon.
As they were walking toward the cash register, Sarah noticed that Barney was trotting along with his head held high in the air and a long knotted rope in his mouth. He appeared to be smiling. Sarah tapped Charles on the arm and pointed toward Barney.
“Ah, the trials of having a large family,” he responded, pulling out his wallet as the young man rang up their purchases, including the long knotted rope.
Chapter 36
As they were approaching the house, Charles’ cell phone rang. He reached for it and pulled over to the curb. “Parker,” he answered.
“Hey, Charlie. I think we got him!” Officer Blackburn sounded confident.
“Great,” Charles responded. “Tell me what’s going on.” Charles hit the speaker button on his cell phone so Sarah could hear. “I’m putting you on speaker. I have the victim’s mother here with me.” He introduced the two and then said, “Go on, Tom.”
“We followed your suggestion and checked out car rentals that might have used falsified identification. We found a Jonathan Harvey whose identification indicated that he would be ninety eight years old. They called their night staff and were assured no one had rented a car to anyone that old. We checked it out, and Mr. Harvey died two years ago.”
“And I assume no one could describe the guy that rented the car since they didn’t even look at the identification.”
“Right,” Blackburn responded.
“What kind of car did they put the fake Mr. Harvey in?”
“He’s in an SUV, a white Chevy Tahoe, and the GPS has him in Middletown.”
“That’s got to be Greyson. Is he on the move?” Charles asked.
“No. He’s been in one spot for several days. He’s in the Sleep-A-Way motel out on your Route 39.” Charles grabbed his notebook and jotted down a few notes. “I’ll call the precinct and get someone out there. Thanks, Tom.”
“Thank you, Tom,” Sarah called out as Charles was disconnecting. She had become both excited and agitated. “What shall we do?”
“We’ll call Amanda.” He dialed her number and was relieved when she answered the phone. He told her what he had learned from Blackburn, and she said she would get officers out there right away. You stay put,” she added, knowing he had Sarah in the car. “I’ll call you when I know something.”
“I want to go!” Sarah demanded after he completed the call.
“Absolutely not,” Charles responded. “There could be a shoot-out, or any number of other things might happen. It’s no place for a civilian.”
“But my daughter is there,” she wailed.
“How about this. I’ll take you and Barney home. Then I’ll go to the motel to make sure Martha is safe, and I’ll bring her back home to you. Is that okay?”
Sarah thought for a moment and finally agreed. If she couldn’t be there, at least Charles would be. He dropped her at her house and told her to call Sophie and Jason and tell them to come to the house. “We’ll have something to celebrate!” He hoped that was true but, if not, he didn’t want Sarah to be alone.
It was at least a twenty-minute drive to the motel on the outskirts of town. He hoped he could get there by the time Amanda and the officers arrived.
* * * * *
Martha heard a car pull up outside the motel room. She heard muffled words and the car pulled away as quickly as it arrived. She heard heavy steps walk toward the office. That must have been a cab, she thought. She had given up all hope of someone coming for her. No one knew where she was.
A few minutes later she heard the heavy footsteps return. The man who said to call him Tony was engrossed in the television and hadn’t noticed the sounds outside. He laughed at the news stories about Martha and how far off they were as they speculated about her disappearance.
Martha’s wrists hurt from the rope binding them. She was stiff and wanted to move around but didn’t want to draw attention to herself. He seemed to have temporarily forgotten about her. Her eyes burned with unshed tears that she couldn’t wipe away.
Suddenly the door burst open. Through her tears, she saw a tall, muscular man standing in the doorway. “You sick bastard!” he screamed at her captor. “What are you doing with my wife?” Martha squeezed her eyes tight to clear the tears and looked up into the man’s face.
“Greyson?”
The man called Tony stood and faced Greyson. “She’s not your wife anymore, man. Get out!”
Without a word, Greyson instantly had the man down and began beating him in the face. Blood splattered and the man moaned. Greyson dragged him into the bathroom, tossing him in like a rag doll. He locked the door, checking first to make sure there was no escape. He immediately untied Martha who sat on the floor dazed. “How did you know where I was?” she asked.
“That fool in the bathroom has loose lips. It’s no wonder he’s spent most of his life in prison. He can’t keep his mouth shut.”
“What do you mean?” She rubbed her sore wrists and tried to get up but didn’t have the strength. Greyson reached under her arms and lifted her effortlessly onto the bed. She still appeared to be in shock.
“That jerk was my cellmate. He used to drool over your pictures and always wanted me to tell him stories about you. I never thought much about it, just the ramblings of an idiot who’s been away from women too long.”
Martha waited for him to continue. His blond curls were beginning to gray, but she could still see the handsome boy she had fallen in love with behind his now aged and hardened face. Despite fearing him for years and hating what he had done to her, he had come to her rescue, and she couldn’t help but be thankful.
“Thank you,” she mumbled hesitantly. “How did you know?”
“My parole officer clued me in that this jerk was talking about marrying you. It sounded like crazy talk to both of us, but then I heard he was planning to come get you and that he was going to take you out to Oklahoma. I still figured it was all t
alk, but he was telling everyone about it.”
Martha sat dazed. “He told me he was taking me some where out west, but …”
The man locked in the bathroom began to curse, and Greyson opened the door and looked down at him on the floor. “Shut up,” he said, giving him a warning kick in the ribs. “I’m deciding what to do with you.”
Martha heard sirens in the background, and within seconds, cars were screeching to a stop outside the room. Again, the door burst open and three police officers entered, wearing protective gear and pointing firearms at the two. Charles came in behind them and cried out, “Stop! That’s Martha.” He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the bed and half carried her out to Amanda’s squad car. Amanda jumped out of the car and hurried around to help him get her into the car.
“Are you hurt?” she asked. “We have an ambulance on the way.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” she responded, still rubbing her wrists and beginning to cry with relief. “Just a little rope burn.”
“After an EMT takes a look at you, I’m going to take you to your mother’s house, and we’ll talk there after we get him locked up. Is he still in the room?”
“Yes. Greyson subdued him and locked him in the bathroom.”
“Greyson?” Amanda and Charles said in unison.
“Greyson subdued who? Wasn’t Greyson the one who kidnapped you?”
“No. It was a man named Tony. Greyson knew him.”
“So what is Greyson doing here?” Charles asked. “Was he in on your kidnapping?”
“No. Greyson found out what this guy was up to, and he came here to stop him. He was almost too late. …” She began crying, mostly out of relief.
The EMT arrived and checked her out, but she refused to go to the hospital. She just wanted to go home.
Amanda spoke briefly with the officers and returned to the car. “They’re taking Greyson in for questioning, and we’ll talk to Montana about whether they want him arrested. He’s violated parole, but then he has a reasonable excuse. He might need you to testify for him,” she added, looking at Martha. Martha thought about that time years ago when she was terrified of testifying against him, and now, years later, she might be testifying for him. She smiled at the irony.
Patchwork Connections Page 16
