Abduction (33 page)

“Ray Timms.
This is my sister’s house.”

Then Tripp
noticed the family resemblance and eased up a little. “Is your sister home, Mr.
Timms?”

“Yes.”

“A neighbor
found something suspicious back behind the shed at the rear of your sister’s
property. We need to check it out, if you have no objections.”

He didn’t
really care if Timms objected, but just in case a lawyer decided to try to
suppress evidence on an illegal search and seizure, he’d have his backside
covered.

“No. No
objections.”

“Then I’m
going to have to ask you and your sister to remain in the house until we figure
out exactly what we have. I’ll post an officer on the front porch to ensure no
one bothers you.”

“Bothers us or
prevents us from leaving? What is it, exactly, that was supposedly found back
there?”

The man wasn’t
stupid. “I can’t say anything more until we check it out more closely. I’m just
asking that you remain indoors so as not to contaminate any evidence while
we’re working.”

“Look, maybe
this isn’t such a good idea. I think I need to call my sister’s lawyer first.”

Tripp took a
step forward. Time to play hardball. “You can call anyone you like. We have
probable cause to enter the property and we are going to enter the property.
Please don’t make things worse for your sister by getting arrested for
obstruction of justice or interfering with an investigation in process.”

#

Vivian knelt
carefully at the edge of the shallow grave and shook her head as she pulled her
gloves out of her evidence bag. Nasty piece of work. Time of death was going to
be tricky. The body had been burned beyond recognition and looked to have been
in the ground anywhere from three to six days. Animals hadn’t helped matters
any. She pulled out a small whiskbroom and began to carefully brush away dirt
still piled on the body. It was going to a long, tedious process to extract the
body and save any evidence.

“Anything I
can help you with, Vivian?”

Vivian looked up at Tripp and jerked her head back
toward the patio. “On my way down, I passed that barbecue pit. It looks like
someone has been burning something besides hamburgers. Have
someone
tape it off. There might be
evidence.”

“You got it.”

Two hours
later, Vivian and two seasoned officers carefully lifted the body out of the
grave and rolled it onto a pristine white sheet. Most of the burn damage had
been done to the front of the body, as if someone had laid the body down on the
ground, applied an unknown accelerant, and then tossed a match.

“What’s that?” Tripp asked sharply, pointing to the
back of the
body.

Vivian reached
down and gently pulled a wallet out of the singed back pants pocket. Carefully
she held the wallet with two fingers and let it fall open. “Some of the credit
cards appeared to have melted from the heat, but there is a driver’s license.”

“Name? As if I
didn’t already know.”

Vivian looked
up at him. “Edward Matthews.”

Tripp walked
back to the house. He didn’t bother to knock as he entered through the glass
sliding doors off the patio. The brother jumped to his feet. His sister was
standing at the sink. She turned and looked at Tripp, surprising him with the
curiosity he saw in her expression. No fear. Just questions. Somehow that
wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Mrs.
Matthews?”

“Lieutenant.”

“Do you know
what we found back there?”

She shook her
head.

“Your
husband.”

“My. . .” Her
face went white and she looked like she was about to faint. Johnson was right.
She’d missed her calling. Hollywood would have loved her. “Ted?”

“Ma’am, if
you’d be kind enough to turn around.”

“Turn around?
Why?”

“Karen
Matthews, I’m arresting you for the murder of Edward Matthews.” He pulled out
his handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and
will, be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney.
. .”

chapter
28

Thursday, April 27

M
att
strolled into the conference room with his hands in his pockets. Disappointment
washed over him when he saw that JJ was deep in conversation with Agent
Fleming. He wanted to drop into a chair, prop his feet up, and tell JJ all
about his failure to get Paula back.

He’d sent roses and cards. He’d sent her favorite candy.
He’d apologized until he was out of breath. He’d left messages on her answering
machine. And she hadn’t returned a single call or acknowledged his efforts in
any way. He was certain he’d lost her.

But JJ didn’t
have time to talk to him about anything other than the case. He felt a pair of
eyes on him and looked around to find Don Bevere staring at him.

“Hey, Matt.”

“Donnie.”

“Has she
called?”

Matt shook his
head. “Nah.”

“Time to get
serious now. If you are really serious about her.”

“I am,” Matt
confessed in a low voice. He was miserable. Of course he was serious.

Donnie grabbed
his jacket off the back of the chair, swung it around his shoulders, and
slipped his arms in as he strode forward. “Let’s go, buddy. We got some work to
do.”

Matt followed
him out into the hall. “What work?”

“Operation
Paula.”

“What are we
going to do?” Matt had to step up his pace as Donnie jogged down the stairs.

“You want her
back; she wants to know you’re serious. Simple.”

“Nothing has
worked so far.”

Donnie flashed
him a devious smile. “Trust me, pal. I was raised with six sisters. They taught
me well. You drive. We’re looking for a jewelry store.”

Matt climbed
in behind the wheel. “I tried that. A bracelet.”

Donnie curled
his lip. “Small potatoes. Good if you’re saying sorry for being late for
dinner. Worthless when you’re saying that you totally screwed up and can’t live
without her.”

#

Karen sat on
her cot, her back to the concrete wall, her knees drawn up to her chest.
Murder.
They’d arrested her for murder. How could they do that? She hadn’t murdered
anyone!
Couldn’t they see that?

Somewhere down
the hall, a cell slammed closed and Karen flinched. She was going to go to
prison. She’d heard horror stories of innocent people declared guilty.

She dropped
her head to her knees.
Oh, God, don’t let this happen to me. You can get me
out of this; I know you can! Just make them see the truth. Please. I don’t
deserve this. You know that. You know I didn’t kill anyone.

Get me out
of this, okay, God?

#

“I don’t like it.” JJ folded his arms stubbornly
across his chest and stared at the locket and ankle bracelet on the conference
table. Fleming had convinced Zoe to wear the jewelry in an attempt to catch the
killer. The anklet had a homing device in it. The necklace would transmit conversations
back to a recorder monitored by the FBI. Still, she’d be a sitting duck hoping
to get rescued before she got killed.

He didn’t like
it one bit.

“I’m not
thrilled either, JJ, but we’ve got two things to think about. One is that we
know his killing spree ends May first, which gives us only days to catch him.
And second, we already know he’s coming after her anyway. We might as well try
to catch the guy while he’s at it.” Fleming picked up the two items, recently
delivered from Quantico, and set them back in the box.

“She’s better
off in a safe house,” JJ argued. “You guys do that stuff. Don’t tell me you
don’t.”

“We do.”

“But not this
time. Not if you can use an innocent woman as bait. Never mind that you could
get her killed.” JJ knew he was being difficult and annoying Fleming, but he
didn’t care. The notion that Zoe could get hurt or killed didn’t sit well with
him.

Never mind
that he hadn’t spoken to her since the day she’d stuck her nose into business
that wasn’t hers. Never mind that he still didn’t
want
to speak to her.

Fleming
buttoned his jacket. “We’re not going to let her get hurt, JJ.”

“And pigs fly
with green wings.” JJ shook his head and turned to the window. “You can’t
guarantee that, Fleming. You know it and so do I.”

“You going to
change your mind and come with me?”

“No.” JJ
continued to stare out the window. “I have too much to do here. Karen Matthews
has been arrested for the murder of her husband. I got a call from some
attorney who thinks he knows where Jessica is, and Tripp is playing hardball,
refusing to let Matthews go with me to identify the child.”

“Have the
child brought here.”

JJ heard the
door click shut; then the room went silent. Fleming wasn’t fooled for a second.
He knew JJ didn’t want to see Zoe after the way he’d childishly stormed out of
her house like a two-year-old on a tantrum.

How else was he supposed to react when confronted
by someone who knew his deepest and most painful memory and threw it in his
face like confetti? In the moment, all he had felt was the pain. Later, much of
the truth she’d tossed at him surfaced, but it was too late.

There was no
simple way to ease back into seeing her without dealing with what she’d
said—and the way he’d acted.

If she
lives long enough for me to ease back into seeing her.

Fleming was
experienced and dedicated. Bevere, for all his fancy ways and Hollywood charm,
was sharp and astute. Both were determined to catch this guy before he killed
again, and they were equally determined that Zoe would come through it without
so much as a scratch.

JJ wasn’t that
optimistic.

In the
meantime, the need to follow this case to the end was like hunger at two in the
morning. He had to acknowledge the hunger but didn’t have the wherewithal to
satisfy it. He didn’t know if the need was just the detective in him wanting to
finish what he’d started or the man in him needing to make sure Zoe didn’t end
up like Macy.

Until he
resolved that issue, he wasn’t sure he’d be any good to anyone.

A light tap on
the door caused JJ to turn. Matt was standing there with that same haunted look
in his eyes that he’d been wearing for over a week now. “Paula still won’t talk
to you?”

Matt shook his
head. “I’m working on it. Donnie came up with a plan.”

“Donnie?” JJ
couldn’t help being surprised. He hadn’t realized the two men had become
friends. Then again, he’d been so consumed with this case that he hadn’t
realized a lot of things lately.

“I hope it
works.” He meant to put more enthusiasm into his comment but couldn’t seem to
drum up enough emotion to pull it off. He reached out and patted Matt’s
shoulder instead. “I really hope she gives you another chance.”

“Yeah, you
sound it.”

“Sorry, Matt.
Just have a lot on my mind.”

“I know.
Speaking of which, there’s a lawyer here by the name of Whitlow with a Mr. and
Mrs. McCaine to see you. They said you knew they were coming.”

JJ draped his
arm over Matt’s shoulder. “Come on. You should be in on this.”

“In on what?”
Matt fell into step next to him.

“Jessica
Matthews may be coming home.”

The minute
they entered the conference room, the woman came to her feet, clutching the
infant close.

“I’m Detective
Johnson. Please, Mrs. McCaine, have a seat. I just wanted to talk to you a few
minutes before we bring Mrs. Matthews in to make a positive identification.”

Nora McCaine
eased back into her chair looking distraught and nervous. JJ figured she’d calm
down as soon as she realized that she and her husband were not going to be
charged with anything. None of this had been their fault.

JJ sat down across from Whitlow. “Let me run through
this again. A man came into your office with a woman he said was his wife and
told you they wanted to give their daughter up for adoption.”

Cameron Whitlow nodded. He was a heavyset man with
small eyes that blinked behind tiny wire-rimmed glasses. “I had no idea that it
was fraudulent in any way, I assure you. They showed identification; they had
the baby’s birth certificate. It all seemed entirely legitimate.”

JJ opened the
file folder in front of him and passed a photo to Whitlow. “Was this the man?”

Whitlow
squinted at the picture and then nodded. “That’s him. Edward Matthews.”

“And this was the woman?” Another picture slid
across the table.

Whitlow shook
his head. “No. That isn’t Mrs. Matthews.”

“Actually,” JJ
responded, “it is.” He pulled out another picture. “How about this woman?”

Whitlow
nodded. “That’s her. That’s the woman who said she was Karen Matthews.”

JJ looked over
at Matt. Whitlow had just identified Maryanne Bubeck.

JJ rubbed the
back of his neck. Had they found Karen Matthews’s motive for killing her
husband? Karen must have found out that Ted and Miss Bubeck were having an
affair. Perhaps she knew they were conspiring to give the child up for
adoption, and she’d killed him for it. It sounded logical enough.

“I don’t buy
it,” Matt said quietly, as if reading JJ’s mind.

“Buy what?”

“If Karen
Matthews didn’t hurt her child and she didn’t give the child away, then she was
telling the truth all along. And if she was telling the truth about that, why
should we think she’s lying now?”

“They found
the body in her backyard!” JJ winced as he heard Nora McCaine gasp. He jerked
his head toward the door. “We’ll figure this out later. Bring Karen Matthews
in.”