“Yes, sir.”
The waiter moved away.
Pete propped
his elbows on the table and looked over at Matt. “You’re on this special task
force they’ve been talking about?”
Matt nodded.
In spite of JJ’s intense dislike of Pete, Matt found that except for
occasionally saying tactless things at the wrong time, he was a good man. He
was a loving husband, a good father, and a good friend. When Matt moved into
his new apartment, Pete was there that morning with a borrowed truck to help
with the move. Pete loved to harass JJ though; that was certain. The two had
never hit it off and probably never would.
“Matt? Pete
asked you about the task force.” Paula shrugged at Pete. “He’s been like this
all night. Don’t mind him.”
“I’m sorry,”
Matt replied sheepishly. “Just thinking. Uh, yeah, I’m on the task force.”
“Any leads
yet?”
Matt shook his
head. “Nope.”
Pete leaned
over and placed his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Hang in there, pal. You’re a good
detective. You’ll catch the guy.”
“I hope so,
and I hope we do it soon.”
“I’m sure you
will. In the meantime,” Pete turned his attention to Paula, “how are you
holding up with all this?”
“I’m used to
it.”
“Doesn’t make
it easy though.”
“What are you
talking about?” Matt sat there, empty fork in hand, and stared at his cousin.
“Oh, come on,
Matt. We all know how you neglect Paula when you’re chin-high in some case.
It’s gotta be lonely for her.”
“I’m fine,”
Paula insisted.
“She’s fine,”
Matt parroted. “And I don’t neglect her.”
“Right.
Sorry.”
“Do I neglect
you?” Matt turned to Paula and watched as she dropped her eyes. “You think I
neglect you?”
“Could we not
discuss this here and now?” Paula whispered tightly across the table.
“I just want
to know if you think I neglect you.”
“No. I don’t.
Okay? Now, can we drop it?”
“Fine.
Consider it dropped.” He jabbed angrily at a piece of chicken and shoved it in
his mouth. He didn’t neglect her. Okay, maybe he only managed to squeeze in an
hour or two a week to see her, but he called every couple of days, didn’t he?
He was on a case, for crying out loud. She knew how it was.
#
JJ unlocked
the front door to the townhouse he rented and stepped inside. Tossing his
jacket over a sofa chair, he immediately went into the kitchen, flipped on a light,
and opened the back door. A large golden retriever came bounding in, jumping up
on him. “Hey, Zip, miss me?”
The dog let
out one sharp and very loud bark. JJ laughed and pushed the dog down. “Ready
for dinner?” He reached out on the deck and brought in Zip’s water bowl.
Zip stayed on
JJ’s heels while he changed the water in the water bowl and filled the food
bowl. Then he settled down to eat while JJ went through his mail and fished
through the refrigerator for something to make for dinner. He decided to broil
a steak, throw together a salad, and toss a potato in the microwave.
While dinner was cooking, JJ changed into a pair
of sweats. Treading barefoot through the house, he fed the fish in his
aquarium, watered the plants in the living room, and checked on the steak.
It had been
the day from hell. He’d thought it was rough after Gina Sarentino and Jessica
Matthews had disappeared, but he’d found out that was nothing compared to the
eruption after Emily Terrance was taken. Harris could be heard screaming from
one end of the station house to the other. The mayor was out to roll a few
heads—and careers with them. The press was screaming. Civic-minded citizens
were up in arms.
And he had
nothing to tell any of them.
That thought
had him pushing away his half-eaten plate in disgust and frustration. Zip was
thrilled, of course. Half a sirloin steak ended up in his bowl.
After tossing
the dishes in the dishwasher, JJ headed for his den. He turned on the radio to
a classical station and settled down in front of his computer to do some work.
So far there
had been no leads on the whereabouts of Nancy Darrington—or whatever name she
was going by this week. Gerry Otis had obtained a photograph from John
Darrington and sent it out to all the police stations not only in this state
but in the four surrounding states as well.
They hadn’t
heard a word yet.
Then there
were the three little girls. JJ looked down at the pictures again, although he
didn’t need to. He could see them in his dreams. The killer had been slick. And
elusive. No fingerprints, no fluids, no trace of him at all. Nothing.
Leaning back, JJ rubbed his eyes with the heels of
his hands. This was going nowhere fast. All he could hope was that his call
to Quantico might provide some answers. Or at
least some help. The
profiler, a man
by the name of Adam Zahn, had been with the Child Abduction Serial Killer Unit
for over twelve years. He was supposed to be one of the best. CASKU had merged
with Investigation Support at the FBI headquarters in Quantico and was now
known as the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime. He didn’t care
what name they had on the door. He just needed someone who understood the mind
of a kidnapper and could help find him. And bring him to justice.
He was certain the Matthews case was different.
And he was sure Karen Matthews had something to do with the missing child. He
no longer had any hope that Jessica Matthews was still alive. The way he
figured it, Karen had killed the child—either intentionally or by accident—and
was covering up the crime by scream
ing abduction. Was her husband in on
it? Was he protecting his wife? Maybe.
JJ leaned back
in his chair and propped his legs up on the corner of the desk. The man was
obviously protective of her and had implied, ever so subtly, that she wasn’t
particularly stable. Yet was Ted Matthews protecting whom he believed was his
innocent wife, or was he tossing out a smoke screen to deflect the
investigation from looking at her too closely?
He didn’t want
to think of Zoe at all. There was no doubt that Harris was going to be all over
him to call her again about Emily Terrance, but JJ was inclined to wait until
he had no choice. The last thing he wanted was that little witch digging at him
again.
His fist
scraped across his chest as if he could still feel the pain of her words
lashing out at him.
“Your father was right about you!”
chapter
9
Saturday, April 15
J
J
woke up with a throbbing headache and temper to match. Rather than driving to
the station after showering and dressing, he drove straight to the Matthews’
house and caught Mrs. Matthews washing the breakfast dishes. Her husband, she
explained, had already left to help some friends for the day. The conversation
went downhill quickly. As soon as he started playing hardball, Karen withered
into a worthless puddle of whining.
“But Alice wouldn’t do such a thing.” Karen wrung
her hands, which only fueled JJ’s temper. Why couldn’t the woman just stand up
and answer the questions without all these oh-poor-pitiful-me games?
“There is no
Alice Denton! She didn’t have children. And she uses at least three aliases
that we’ve been able to come up with so far. If one of the aliases is her real
name, she was married and left her husband almost a year ago. He’s been looking
for her.”
“I didn’t
know. I swear. She seemed so nice, and she was so good with Jessica. I just
didn’t think to check her references.”
“You place your child in the care of a woman you
don’t know just because you think she seems nice? No wonder your baby is
missing.”
“That’s not
fair!” Karen took a step backward.
It wasn’t and
he knew it, but this case was driving him crazy. He had never seen such
ineptitude in his life. “You never thought it strange that she would only take
her pay in cash? No checks?”
Karen shook
her head. “She said she preferred cash. I didn’t see any crime in that.”
“What reason
did she give you for leaving?”
“She said that
she had a family problem and couldn’t work for me anymore. She even cried when
she told me. She was so upset to have to leave us.”
“Right,” JJ
snapped caustically. “Well, what about her car? Did you ever see it?”
Karen shook
her head again. “No. She said she didn’t have one. I think she took the bus.”
“She owns a
fairly new burgundy Chrysler Concorde.”
Karen stared
down at her hands. “I can’t believe she lied like that. I thought she was so
nice.”
JJ ignored her
comment. He was afraid that if he responded she would sue him for attacking
her. “What was she like with Jessica?”
“Oh, she
adored Jessica.”
JJ made a face
as he continued to make notes. “Think back. Can you recall her ever talking
about where she’d come from or someplace she always wanted to go? Anything that
might give us a handle on where she might be headed?”
Karen thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think
so. She didn’t talk about other places. I assumed she was local and always had
been.”
She wiped new
tears. “I can’t believe this. She was so good with Jessica. And she was always
talking about her little boy. I think his name was Johnny.”
Johnny. As in
John Darrington. He hadn’t thought to ask if they’d had a child together.
Something else to check out. This water was getting muddier and muddier. In the
meantime, he had to get back to the station. With any luck, he might hear from
the profiler in Virginia. At least the aspirin had started to kick in and
dissipate the headache.
#
Most Saturday
afternoons, Jan Alberry would be getting her hair cut or her nails done or
cleaning her house and doing laundry—catching up on everything she didn’t have
time to do during the week while she was chasing the news.
But on this
particular Saturday afternoon, she had her face buried in copies of old
newspaper stories scattered across her desk. After nearly a week of research,
she was finally hitting pay dirt. One old clipping in particular had her foot
tapping beneath her desk.
Local Girl Disappears—Community Locking Their
Doors
Ten-year-old
Amy Marie Shefford disappeared yesterday after walking home from school with
her twin sister, Zoe. “She was right behind me,” cried the distraught blond-haired
child. “When she didn’t come in the house, I looked and looked for her but she
was gone.”
State
police were called in by Police Commissioner Thomas Ryder when an extensive
search of the neighborhood proved fruitless.
Jan flopped
back in her chair, blowing out a heavy breath. “So the woman has a history
after all.”
“What did you
say?” Lois Pollack looked up from her desk where she was working on recipes for
the Sunday edition.
“Did you hear
about that psychic the police brought in to help with the missing children?”
“Sure.” Lois
shrugged. “Who hasn’t?”
“Well, I just
found out that the woman had a twin sister, and when they were ten, the sister
was kidnapped and killed.”
“Whoa.” Lois stared, her eyes wide with amazement.
“No kid
ding?”
Jan picked up
the clipping. “Her sister disappears and is never found, and now she’s devoted
her life to finding missing children. I wonder if she’s still looking for Amy.”
“Huh?”
Jan shook her
head. “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.”
She set the
story aside and began searching through the rest, setting the articles in
chronological order. She was on to something. She just knew it. Amy Shefford
had disappeared in 1983. Then there was nothing more in the news for almost ten
years. In 1992 Zoe Shefford made the news again when she found a missing boy
down by the lake after he’d wandered off from his parents. He’d been seriously
injured in a fall, and if Zoe hadn’t found him when she did, he’d have died.
The parents touted her as a hero. There was a picture of the mayor shaking her
hand.
Quickly Jan
gathered up all the copies and slipped them into a file folder. She’d only
searched through the files for Zoe Shefford. She needed to go back and look at
the files for missing children. More than likely she’d find a solitary blond girl
somewhere in the background, trying to help.
“I thought you
were working on the latest disappearance.”
“Emily
Terrance. I’ve already done all I can on the story and turned it in to Ed.”
“I just can’t
believe we’ve got something like this going on in our town. Three little girls.
Gone. It’s enough to make you wonder. I mean, in a big city, sure. But not
here.”
“It’s not just
big cities anymore, Lois. Evil is everywhere.”
Lois
shuddered. “I’m glad right now that I don’t have kids. It would drive me nuts
constantly wondering if they were in danger. I’d have to lock them up in their
rooms or something.”
Janice felt a
twinge of guilt. She’d been so caught up in the details of the kidnappings, she
really hadn’t thought about how the mothers and fathers must feel. She’d seen
their tears, documented their impassioned pleas, but it was just news copy. At
twenty-three, Janice felt that having children was something for the faraway
future, not something she thought much of in the present. What would it be like
to have a child and then have someone take that child? She couldn’t relate.
Couldn’t imagine.
Grabbing her
purse, she jumped up from her chair. “I have some more research to do.”