Abduction (15 page)

Zoe made a
face as she frowned. “He can.”

“Wow. I’m
impressed. I didn’t think anyone could make you lose control.” Daria squinted
at the grainy photograph. “He looks like he might be attractive.”

Zoe glanced
over at the photograph and then pulled her eyes
away. “He has some good qualities.” She sipped from her mug. “Give
me an hour and I might think of one.”

Daria laughed
lightly, her eyes sparkling with interest. “I absolutely must meet this man.”

At that
moment, the doorbell rang. Zoe sighed and stood up. “Be right back.”

Zoe opened the
door and groaned silently. Turning on her heel, she strode back into the
kitchen with JJ following her.

Daria stood up and tilted her head back to look up
at him. “I’m Daria Cicala. You must be the very nice man who helped my friend.”

Zoe rolled her
eyes and struggled not to laugh as her friend all but simpered.

JJ shook
Daria’s hand. “I don’t know that I was much help.”

“We’re just
having coffee. Would you care for some?”

JJ shook his head. “I just need to talk to Miss
Shefford for a
moment.”

“Miss
Shefford?” Daria laughed again, letting her fingertips slide across his arm
ever so gently. “Honey, no one calls Zoe that.”

“I do.”
Dismissively, JJ turned to Zoe, who was still struggling to keep her expression
bland and unreadable. Leave it to Daria to put a little sunshine in her life.
“Mrs. Terrance called. She was hoping you might be able to help.”

“I can try.”
She walked over to the table and picked up her mug to keep her hands from
shaking. Another child. How she dreaded this. “Have you been able to find out
anything yet from Gina’s. . .”

She let the
word remain unsaid and took another sip of coffee that was too cool to enjoy.

“Not yet.
Forensics is working overtime and the crime scene guys are out there again
today.”

Zoe nodded.
“When did you want to go see the Terrances?”

“Now, if you
can get away.” He glanced over at Daria.

Daria picked
up her purse. “I was on my way out anyway. Zoe, I’ll call you later. Mr.
Detective, it was nice meeting you.”

JJ closed his
eyes for a second and then opened them again as a flicker of remorse shadowed
his face. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I’m JJ Johnson.”

Daria smiled
again, a little more teeth showing. “Nice to meet you, JJ. And what does JJ
stand for?”

JJ actually
looked uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Josiah. Josiah Johnson.”

“Josiah. I
like that. See ya.” She waved airily and made her exit.

The moment the
door closed behind Daria, Zoe felt the walls begin to close in on her. He was
much too close and the tension was much too thick. She needed to get out.
Josiah.
She preferred it to JJ any day of the week.
No, kiddo, stick to Detective
Sir. It’s far safer.
“Let me get my purse and we’ll go.”

He followed
her into the living room. “About yesterday?”

Zoe grabbed
her purse and felt the tension slide down her spine as she locked the front
door and pulled it closed behind them. “What about it?”

“Do you make a
habit of fainting at the sight of maple trees?”

He had noticed
the trees. Now, why did that surprise her?

“No,” she admitted as she climbed into his car.
Fastening her seat belt, she was dismayed to find herself inhaling his scent
and finding it pleasant. She exhaled impatiently. “I usually pass out after
finding a child. Sometimes within minutes; sometimes it’s hours later.”

She turned
sideways in her seat. “And about. . .”

“What?”

“What I said
to you. That was wrong of me. I want to apologize. I don’t normally do things
like that. I really don’t. I lost my temper and there is no excuse. So I’m
sorry.”

JJ brushed her off as if it didn’t matter in the
least. She knew it did. That aggravated her. The least he could do was accept
her apology.

But he didn’t
reprieve her. Or give her absolution. He just ignored her on the drive to the
Terrances’ modest home twenty-five minutes away in Emmitt Falls. She figured it
was about the most miserable twenty-five-minute drive she’d ever experienced.

By the time
they pulled up in front of the split-level home, she was regretting her apology
and ready to poke at him again. Even his hostile barbs were better than this cold
silence.

“So, Josiah,
when I get done solving this case for you, what else would you like me to do?”
She followed him up the walk, barely noticing the pansies that lined the path
to the front door.

JJ stopped and
turned around to look at her. His green eyes went icy, like shards of glass
that would leave a hundred slices in her skin. “Don’t push me, Shefford.”

“Should I
conjure up some lightning bolts instead?” She tilted her head, cold stare
meeting frosty glare. “Or perhaps you would prefer fire?” She raised her hands
in a dramatic wave. “Oh, spirits of darkness. . .”

“I would
prefer you back off.”

“Then try
being human.” She marched past him and rang the doorbell. By the time JJ made
it to the door, Mrs. Terrance had swung it open and was standing there wringing
her hands.

Zoe graced the
little woman with a gentle smile as she reached out and took the woman’s hands
in a gesture of compassion and understanding. “Hello. I’m Zoe.”

#

He stared
at the newspaper, panic welling up inside, encircling his throat like
tentacles, squeezing slowly, cutting off his air.

They’d found Gina. His little wildflower, planted
so carefully in the woods. They’d found her and dug her up. They’d disturbed
his garden!

Anger, black anger, oozed through him, filling
every part of his body until he felt he was drowning in it. They had dared to
touch his garden!

No. . .that
woman had. She was the one who had seen the beauty of his garden and destroyed
it. She was the one who had taken away one of his wildflowers. She was the one
who was a danger to him. She understood his garden.

The police
were no threat. He was too smart for them.

But this
woman. She was a problem. She wouldn’t stop until she’d found all his
wildflowers, and he couldn’t allow that. No. He’d have to stop her. And then
she would be part of his garden. A weed among the precious wildflowers.

He folded
the newspaper carefully, set it on the table, and signaled the waitress for his
check. She would have to be stopped soon.

Very soon.

Slowly he
smiled and the anger abated.

Yes. It was
only right that she join his wildflowers.

#

JJ watched as
Zoe spoke with Mrs. Terrance. She kept her voice soft and reassuring.
Compassion dripped from her every word. JJ had to give the lady credit; she
knew how to sell herself. After a few moments, Mrs. Terrance led Zoe back to
her daughter’s room. Zoe went from item to item; teddy bear to Barbie doll,
hair ribbons to roller blades.

Tears
glistening in her eyes, Zoe shook her head regretfully and took Mrs. Terrance’s
hand again. “I’m sorry. I’m not picking up anything right now. I can try again
another time.”

Obviously
disappointed, Mrs. Terrance merely nodded as she clutched the teddy bear that
Zoe had held a few minutes earlier. “I was hoping. Anything.” She seemed to
struggle just to speak. “It’s the waiting.”

“I know how
you feel,” Zoe said softly. “I know.”

As soon as they got back outside, JJ went after
her with both barrels. “Lady, I’ll give you credit. You sure know how to play
people, don’t you? Telling that woman you can try again and you know how she
feels. You are truly one of the best cons I think I’ve ever come across.”

“Not now,
Detective.”

“I know how
you feel,”
he said sarcastically, aping her words but not her tone. “As if
you could ever understand what these women are going through. You’re just using
their moment of weakness to feed your own ego.”

“You are so
clueless. Can we drop this now?”

“Oh, yeah. We
can drop this. Heaven forbid you actually answer a critic.”

“You’re not a
critic, Detective. You’re a bully.”

#

Detective
Gerry Otis could feel his instincts kicking like a frisky
colt on a spring day. He found Matt Casto pouring
over crime scene
evidence at his desk.

“Matt.” Gerry
tossed down a file in front of Matt. “We were right. Matthews is an alias. He
was born Theodore Matthew Bateman. His father, Thomas Bateman, was an
electrician, killed in a car accident February 1960. The mother, Carol Bateman,
married one Lou Jernigan in July of ’61.”

Matt blinked
but said nothing.

“In June of
’62, Carol Bateman Jernigan gave birth to a baby girl, Marsha Diane.” Gerry
tipped his head toward the file. “That’s all I found so far.”

“What about
the sister? Half-sister. Marsha. Anything on her?”

“Nothing so
far.”

“The parents?”

“Both deceased
in a fire in ’78.”

Matt tipped
back his head. “Same year our Mr. Matthews turned twenty-one and changed his
name.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll let JJ
know. In the meantime,” Matt picked up the file and handed it back to Gerry,
“find the sister. And see if you can find out why Matthews changed his name.
There has to be something there. I can feel it. I’m going out to lunch.”

“Where is JJ?
He’s been gone for hours.”

Matt grinned
as he stood up and stretched then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Out with our Miss Zoe.”

“Oh, boy.
He’ll be in a fine temper when he gets back. She can get him on the bad side of
a mood faster than anyone I ever met.”

“I’m sure he has the same effect on her.” Matt
headed for the door. “I’m off to lunch. If JJ gets back before I do, let him
know where I am.”

#

“Paula! Wait up!”

Paula stopped,
half turning, her hand pausing on the handle of the glass door. “Hey, James.”

James Parnell, one of the dispatchers at Heart-Care
Medical Transport, walked quickly toward her. “Are you on your way to lunch?”

Paula nodded
as she pushed open the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, James right behind
her. “I was thinking about hitting the deli for a quick sub,” she said.

“I got a
better idea.” He ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair, his blue eyes
twinkling. “I’ll treat you to lunch at Hunan Heaven. All you can eat buffet.
Whattya say?”

“Chinese?
Okay.” Paula stepped sideways as a businessman hurried past her, his briefcase
nearly clipping her leg. “But you don’t have to treat.”

“I insist.” He
held out his elbow. “Shall we?”

Paula laughed
as she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. Since the restaurant was less
than two blocks away, they walked, talking business as they weaved in and out
of the lunch crowd on the sidewalks.

“How’s it
going in your department? Ours seems busy enough.”

Paula frowned.
“Yeah, you schedule the runs and then we have to fight tooth and nail to get
Medicare and Medicaid to pay us.”

“I thought
these people were covered for their medical transportation.”

“They’re
supposed to be, but the Meds like to make us squirm for every dime, delaying as
much as possible before paying. Last week they denied over five thousand,
citing changes in the mileage codes. Thing is, they didn’t tell us they were
changing the codes.”

James shook
his head as he dropped Paula’s arm and reached over to pull open the restaurant
door. “The games they play.”

#

Zoe felt anger swirling around inside like a
violent storm. She wanted
to get out of the car. Away from him. Away
from his bitterness and those eyes that stripped her down to doubts.

JJ glared at
her as they waited at a red light. “You prey on innocent people in their lowest
moments. . .”

Zoe felt the
insult like the snap of a whip lashing across her heart. He wanted to hurt her
and he’d succeeded, but she’d die before she’d let him know just how much. He
wanted revenge for what she’d said to him before, and she’d let him have his
moment. But it would be the last time.

She turned and
looked out the window. She
did
know how Mrs. Terrance felt—how every one
of those women felt. But she wasn’t going to let him know that.

Never in a
million years.

They drove
past a church, and Zoe read the message of the day on the sign out front.
God
speaks in many ways. Are you listening?

Zoe frowned.
What was it with all these reminders of God lately? The billboard, the
television station changing, the radio in her car set to a Christian station
when she didn’t even know there
was
a Christian station, and now a
church sign.

She dismissed it all and forced herself to think
of Gina Sarentino. The dark black hair, pulled back in a braid and tied with a
ribbon. The little studs twinkling in her pierced ears. The missing front
tooth.

Flowers.

Garden.

Wildflowers.

Zoe closed her
eyes as the thoughts and images swamped her.

“He thinks of
them as his flowers. His wildflowers. He wants them dark this time. Each time
he goes through phases. Redheads, then blonds, now dark hair. Flowers in his
garden.”

“What in
heaven’s name are you spouting off about?”

Zoe hadn’t
even realized she was vocalizing her thoughts until he spoke, that frosty edge
of hostility cutting through her thoughts.