It Only Takes a Moment (26 page)

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Authors: Mary Jane Clark

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense, #Adult, #Thriller

BOOK: It Only Takes a Moment
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E
liza held on to the child so tightly and for so long that eventually she could feel Janie squirming to get free.

“Oh my angel, I’m so relieved that you’re okay,” Eliza breathed, her eyes closed. “Everything is going to be all right now, Janie.”

“Where were you, Mommy? Mrs. Garcia said you were coming but you took so long.”

Eliza released her grip on her daughter. “I’m sorry, Janie,” she said, looking directly in her child’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I came as soon as I could. I didn’t know where you were.”

“Did you find Mrs. Garcia?” Janie asked.

“No, we haven’t found Mrs. Garcia yet. Do you know where she is, Janie?”

The little girl shook her head. “The man took her away. I don’t know where. He covered my eyes so I couldn’t see.”

 

Annabelle and B.J. arrived in time to see Eliza and Janie getting into the car with Mack. Tears ran down Annabelle’s cheeks as she sprang out of the news vehicle. She rushed to Eliza and hugged her.

“Thank God,” she whispered.

“I know,” said Eliza, hugging her back. “I know.”

Annabelle pulled away and looked over at the child. “She’s all right?”

“She seems to be,” Eliza answered. “They want to question her more, but she’s been through enough for now. I want to get her to a doctor right away and have her checked out, have those legs looked at. Then I’m going to ask Margo about therapy for her.”

“Right,” said Annabelle. She looked around for B.J. and saw him hoisting up his camera. She noticed he stopped to wipe his eyes.

R
ecords showed that Carl Yates owned a piece of property fifteen miles outside of Milford. The FBI searched it.

There was no one in the house, but inside, among other things, they found a paintball gun, Janie’s plastic necklace, and a scalpel.

“I bet the Urgentcare victim’s blood is on this,” said the agent who carefully placed the instrument in an evidence container.

“I’m going to go out and see what’s in that shed,” said his partner.

 

Buried in the root cellar, Mrs. Garcia drifted in and out of sleep. Every time she woke up, she willed herself to go back to sleep again. Only in sleep did she find any respite from the pain, fright, and hopelessness that enveloped her.

 

The agents pulled back the door of the shed and found a black van with a dented rear door parked inside.

In the van’s cargo hold was the body of a man dressed in a camouflage jumpsuit.

 

Mrs. Garcia opened her eyes, not sure what had awakened her. The bulb had burned out, so she couldn’t see her surroundings. She lay on the cement floor and listened.

She heard something coming from above.

 

“We should leave the body where it is until the coroner comes,” said the agent.

“Let’s close the door again, so no bugs get on him,” said the other.

He slammed the van door shut.

 

Sí!
There
was
a noise above her. Somebody was up there.

Mrs. Garcia struggled to raise herself and get to the ventilation pipe, but her swollen ankle collapsed beneath her and she fell to the floor.

 

The agents walked out of the shed.

“Leave it open to air the place out.”

They started back to the house.

 

Leaning against the wall, Mrs. Garcia inched her way up again. With no light, she couldn’t be sure where the air vent was. She reached up and groped along the two-by-fours and bags of sand, her heart beating faster, knowing that she had to be heard to be rescued.

Where was the pipe? Where was it?

Her hand hit a round metal tube jutting out from the wall, just below the ceiling.

“Help!” she cried. “I’m down here. Help!”

 

“Did you hear something?” asked the agent.

They stood still and listened. Following the direction of the sound, they went back to the shed and found a pipe jutting out of the floor. They knelt down beside it.

“Hello,” called the agent into the pipe. “Somebody there?”

“Ay, Dios mio.
Yes, I am here. Please help me.”

The agent found a wood panel in the ground, hidden at the back of the shed. It was secured with a heavy padlock. They broke it, opened the door, and pointed flashlights down into the dark.

A middle-aged woman, her hair disheveled, her face covered with dirt, squinted up at them from the bottom of the root cellar.

T
he Ho-Ho-Kus police held back the throng of newspeople who surged around the car carrying Eliza, Janie, and Mack. Blocked by the aggressive, competing journalists, Mack inched the vehicle up the driveway.

“We should give them their photo op,” said Eliza as she held Janie in the backseat. “They deserve it.”

Mack got out of the car and opened the rear door. Eliza emerged with Janie to a frenzy of shouted questions and flashing camera lights. Microphones were thrust at all of them.

Eliza held out her hands and smiled. “Okay, everybody,” she shouted. “We have our happy ending. Janie is home, and we just got a call from the FBI that Mrs. Garcia has been found as well.”

The reporters pounced.

“What do you know about the kidnapper, Eliza?”

“Do you know why he abducted your daughter?”

“Janie, what did the kidnapper do to you?”

Eliza felt her daughter snuggle closer against her for protection.

“We have to get inside now,” said Eliza, responding to her daughter’s vulnerability. “Janie needs to rest. I’ll be out later, everybody.”

Surprisingly, the reporters parted to let mother and child pass. As they made their way up the walk, Eliza spotted Stephanie Quick standing on the lawn. She motioned to the woman to come over. Eliza kissed Stephanie on the cheek before turning to the reporters again.

“The FBI has worked hard and has done a wonderful job, but if it wasn’t for this woman, we wouldn’t have gotten to Janie in time. Stephanie Quick is the psychic who helped us. I know some have treated my consultations with her as a joke, something not to be taken seriously. Perhaps if I were in your places, I would have called it all mumbo jumbo, too. But Stephanie’s visions are the reason we have Janie back. And my family and I will be forever in her debt.”

Questions were shouted again, demanding more details. Eliza whispered in Stephanie’s ear and the woman nodded. “Come inside so I can thank you properly when you’re done out here,” Eliza whispered before turning around to address the reporters.

“Stephanie is going to stay out here and answer your questions,” said Eliza. She and Mack flanked Janie and, hand in hand, the three of them walked inside the house.

E
liza refused to let Janie be questioned right away.

“Janie’s been through enough,” Eliza told Agents Gebhardt and Laggie. “There will be time for that later.”

She took Janie upstairs and gave her a warm bath, taking care as she washed around the cuts on the child’s legs. Eliza could tell that the child had lost some weight, and her suntan had a gray pallor to it.

“Dr. Burke will be coming over in a little while, sweetheart,” she said, preparing her daughter. “He’s going to make sure your legs heal up all better. Kay Kay and Poppy are on their way over, too.”

“What about Mrs. Garcia, Mommy? When will she be back?”

“Soon, sweetheart.” Eliza kissed the child’s forehead. “Soon.”

Dressed in a fresh pair of summer pajamas, Janie made no protest about getting into bed. She climbed in between the clean sheets and lay her head down on the pillow. One small arm cradled Zippy, the other reached out to stroke the dog’s head that rested on top of the comforter.

“Good girl, Daisy. I missed you so much,” Janie murmured as she fell asleep.

Eliza looked down at her daughter, her heart filled with love, relief, and profound gratitude. As she tiptoed out of the room, she realized that Janie wasn’t hiccupping anymore.

M
rs. Garcia was admitted to Bon Secours Community Hospital in Port Jervis, New York, suffering from dehydration and a broken ankle. She refused pain or sleep medication.

Her skin was ashen against the crisp white pillowcase. “Janie. Is she all right?”

“Yes,” said the FBI agent. “She’s safe and home already with her mother.”

“That is good,” said Mrs. Garcia. “
Gracias a Dios.
And I would like to call my family and let them know I am all right,” she said.

The FBI agent looked uncomfortable.

“What is wrong?” asked Mrs. Garcia.

“Your family is gone. We don’t know where they are.”

She smiled for the first time. “I think I know where they might be.” Mrs. Garcia had one more question. “And the people who took us? Did you catch them?”

“People?
” asked the FBI agent. “There was more than one person?”

“Sí,
” said Mrs. Garcia. “There was a man and a woman.”

T
he Maryknoll fathers, brothers, and sisters have worked as missionaries in Guatemala longer than in any other country, witnessing the massacre of the Indian population there. It was well known among the Guatemalan immigrants who found their way to the United States that the Maryknollers provided refuge for those in trouble and opened their doors to those fleeing political repression. Though their story was a unique one, Maria and Vicente Rochas and their baby hadn’t been turned away when they arrived at the Maryknoll sanctuary in Ossining, New York.

Vicente had already been put to work on the grounds and was mowing the grass when Maria, with Rosario in her arms, ran out onto the lawn and beckoned excitedly.

“They found them, Vicente!” Maria cried. “They found Mamá and Janie. It’s on the television right now.”

E
liza came downstairs to wait for Dr. Burke. She went to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on the stove. As the whistle sounded, Agent Gebhardt came in from the garage.

“Thank you, Barbara,” said Eliza, going over and hugging the woman. “Thank you for everything.”

“That’s our job,” said the agent. “It’s so good when everything turns out all right. Getting Janie back safely is the only thing that matters.”

“Thank God it’s over now,” said Eliza. “When I think what
could
have happened, how this could have ended…” Eliza didn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes, we were lucky,” said Agent Gebhardt. “I wish they all turned out this way.”

Eliza nodded. “Would you like some tea?” she asked.

“Actually, I’d love a good strong scotch,” said Agent Gebhardt.

“You got it,” said Eliza, heading for the liquor cabinet.

Gebhardt held up her hand and smiled. “Stop. I was only kidding. I’m on duty, so I’ll settle for that tea.”

As she poured the hot water over the tea leaves to steep, Eliza couldn’t resist asking a question. “What do you think of psychics now?”

Agent Gebhardt shrugged. “I’m still not convinced, but I don’t think I’ll be ignoring those kinds of leads in the future. Quick’s bridal veil vision was especially impressive. How could she ever have known that?”

“I know,” Eliza agreed. “She’s remarkable. I’m glad she’s outside getting the attention she deserves.”

The two women sat at the kitchen table and talked.

Agent Gebhardt took a sip of tea. “The case isn’t over yet, Eliza. When they searched the kidnapper’s property, they found another dead body. A male this time. It looks like the guy had been out paintballing and stumbled into something horrible.”

Eliza groaned. “That poor soul—and the young woman who was murdered at the Urgentcare. I’d like to be able to contact their families.”

Barbara Gebhardt nodded. “And our agents with Mrs. Garcia up in Milford just called.”

“How is she? Is she all right?”

“She’s going to be fine, but she says there was somebody else involved. Two people abducted her and Janie.”

Eliza digested the information. “So the other one is out there still,” she said quietly.

“A woman,” said Agent Gebhardt.

“What do you know about the male kidnapper?” asked Eliza.

“Not enough,” said Agent Gebhardt. “Even though there was no identification on the body, we feel confident that fingerprints will confirm he is Carl Yates, a guy who was dishonorably discharged from the Navy SEALs about a decade ago for assaulting another officer. The only thing our agents found on him was a medal in his pocket with the name Skip engraved on the back. We think that’s a nickname he got when he commanded his unit.”

Eliza was puzzled. “A medal? You just said he was dishonorably discharged. Last time I checked, they weren’t giving out medals for that.”

“It wasn’t a military medal,” said Agent Gebhardt. “It had a circle of the zodiac stamped on it.”

 

Eliza put her hand in her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the medallion Stephanie had given her on the first day she’d come to the house.

Hold on to this and keep concentrating on Janie.

She had kept the medallion with her all through this awful week, knowing in her head that it wasn’t going to help bring her child back but hoping against hope that it would. She’d wanted to believe in its power and she had been determined not to abandon any good-luck charm that might lead to Janie’s safe return.

What an utter fool she had been.

 

Eliza was about to show the medallion to Agent Gebhardt when the bell rang and she thought better of it. Eliza wanted to confront Stephanie Quick herself.

Stephanie was smiling broadly when Eliza opened the door and invited her inside.

“My phone will be ringing off the hook with requests from police departments around the country,” said Stephanie breathlessly. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment.”

“Come into the den with me, Stephanie,” Eliza said softly. “So we can have some privacy.”

The moment the door was closed, Eliza turned and stared directly into Stephanie’s eyes.

“Is that why you kidnapped my daughter?” she asked. “For the publicity?”

“What are you talking about, Eliza?” Stephanie sputtered. “Of course I didn’t have anything to do with Janie’s abduction. I only helped to find her.”

Eliza pressed the zodiac medallion into Stephanie’s hand. “I guess it’s only a coincidence then that the kidnapper had a medal with the zodiac
on it in his pocket. I guess when the FBI compares the medallion you gave me to that one, they won’t see they are the same.”

Stephanie sank down on the sofa. “It wasn’t supposed to go the way it did,” said Stephanie. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Skip and I just wanted to get major media attention. I have gifts, Eliza. You saw that when I told you about John being pleased you still wore the perfume he liked. But not enough people would take my gifts seriously. Skip said Janie’s kidnapping would be national news. Everybody would follow it. And if my visions led to Janie’s recovery, the whole world would know about that and respect me for it.”

“Not to mention that you stood to make a quarter of a million dollars in reward money and too much to count in future earnings. Just think of the book deals and television shows and the fees you could charge any pathetic soul who was desperate for help in finding somebody they loved.”

“It really wasn’t about the money, Eliza. It wasn’t.”

Eliza ignored Stephanie’s protestations. Still in disbelief at the audacity and cruelty of the plan, Eliza studied the woman’s face.

“So, you took Janie and Mrs. Garcia, knowing all along that you were going to drop my child off at the Bridal Veil waterfall in Milford?”

Stephanie hung her head.

“Now two innocent people are dead and so is your Skip. What was he, your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“You know, my heart goes out to those families, the families of the people you killed,” said Eliza.

Stephanie protested. “I didn’t kill them.”

“You might as well have,” said Eliza. “And you are going to spend the rest of your life paying for that, and for the kidnapping of Janie and Mrs. Garcia—even though prison is too good for you.”

Eliza turned and stalked out of the den to tell the FBI agents and to brief the press.

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