Sufficient Ransom (30 page)

Chet took his glasses off and laid them on the table. He rubbed his eyes. Finally he said, “What did you think of Pastor Todd’s sermon?” His anger seemed to have dissipated as suddenly as it had come on.

Ann was glad to be on to something new. “Frankly, I was surprised at what he said. That it doesn’t matter what we do, only that we believe in God.”

Chet’s eyebrows arched.

“Do you think Travis’s kidnappers should go to heaven? And what about your mother’s killer? How can believing in Jesus be enough? It’s dangerous thinking. It’s… it’s…” Ann struggled for the right words. “It’s immoral and evil.”

Chet’s eyes were so still she could see small flecks of black embedded in the green of his left iris. He remained silent.

Ann was pleased with herself that she finally had the courage to name what it was that had bothered her about Pastor Todd’s sermons and some of Chet’s. She pressed on. “It’s wrong to go around and hurt each other. And it’s doubly immoral to excuse the crimes with talk of forgiveness if the criminal accepts Jesus. Think of the havoc if people knew they wouldn’t get punished for kidnapping and murder. There’d be a lot more of it. Society would collapse.”

Chet’s eyes flickered. He spoke carefully, like he was reciting a prepared speech. “The ways of God are simple. He passes judgment on the frailties of men, but He also forgives. Man is innately evil. Look around—evidence of our depravity is everywhere. But the Lord gives us an out. As long as we try to live a life that glorifies and honors Him.”

Anger at what she perceived to be words of excuse rose up in Ann, along with her voice. “But that’s the whole point, Chet. There’s nothing objective about it. One man’s holy war is another man’s terrorism. One man’s murder is another’s defense of his ideals. These ideas give people permission to do whatever they want, and then allow them an out if they believe in Jesus. Or God. Or whatever. It’s all so wrong.”

Chet’s face darkened. “I thought you were further along in your understanding, Ann.”

She was tired of his platitudes. “Sometimes what you say makes no sense.”

He leaned in. “God’s love is all encompassing, all good. Why do you want to twist things?”

“So God wants to love kidnappers, murderers and rapists? Is that what you’re saying?”

“If they respect and embrace Him.”

“These things should not be forgiven so easily,” Ann said. “There needs to be more. Years of restitution to the victim. Time to change one’s character. And some people—no matter what they do or say—should never be forgiven.” She fell back against the booth. What difference did
any of this make? As long as Travis was gone, life held no real meaning for her. “You’re angry, aren’t you?”

“I’m just a little disappointed, that’s all,” Chet said. “I hoped you would get what you wanted.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chet’s hands went out in a gesture of helplessness. “That you would find peace in your heart.”

Ann shot the pastor a withering look. “How can I have peace knowing that my son is somewhere, scared and alone, needing me? And no! I will never concede he’s dead, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Her voice dropped. “You can’t understand what it’s like.”

Chet’s hands took up hers. “If you would only pray and give your cares and worries up to The Lord, He will help you. I know He will. He’s all merciful. Believe me when I say that He wants to help you, Ann. For who so findeth Me, findeth life, and shall obtain favor of the Lord.”

Ann shook her head. “I don’t know what to believe any more.”

9:00 P.M
.

A
nn was drifting off to sleep when the telephone rang. The handset to her ear, she groggily asked who was calling.

“Mommy, Mommy! It’s me, Travis!”

Ann shot up like a bullet. “Travis! Where are you?!”

“Mommy, come get me. I wanna come home. Mommy, come!”

Click. The line went dead.

Ann stabbed at the phone, trying to get the call back. “Travis!” she screamed. “Where are you?”

She jumped out of bed, shouting, “Richard! Come quick!”

Richard ran into the bedroom. “What’s wrong?”

She tried to get the words out straight. “Travis just called! Right now, on this phone. Quick! Call the police. See if they can trace it. I star 69’d it, but it’s not working. I think the number’s blocked. Hurry!”

Richard jerked the lamp on and pulled his phone from his jeans. “What did he say?”

Her heart racing, Ann told her husband about the brief conversation.

“I’ll call Tom,” Richard said. The call to the detective made, he hung up.

“Travis is alive, Richard! He wants to come home! Do you think they can trace the call? You do? Oh, Richard, he’s alive!”

The next minutes and hours were the most joyful and the most exasperating of Ann’s life. Tom Long arrived with a policeman who specialized in electronic data collection. Officer Redmond sat down with the Olsons’ landline, a laptop, and his cell phone, and started working to trace Travis’s call; while the Olsons and the detective hovered over him trying not to get in his way.

After forty minutes of working his computer and talking to various people at the telephone company, Officer Redmond pushed his chair back. “For now, I can tell you that the call came from a cellular phone through the station that serves the downtown Temecula area. The call was made on a prepaid phone listed under a phony name. Unfortunately the phone’s turned off now, so we can’t get an exact location.”

“How do you know it’s a phony name?” Tom Long asked.

Officer Redmond turned his laptop toward the detective. “The first name is listed as ‘John.’ Last name: ‘Doe.’ Address: 91 Mill on the Floss Road. There’s no such street in Temecula or anywhere else in California.” He addressed Ann and Richard. “The cell phone company is putting together a
Detail Records
report on all calls made and received from the phone your son used. The report will also show which cellular towers the calls went through. We might get lucky and tease out some clues that will help us locate your boy.”

Tom looked concerned. “What’s wrong?” Ann asked.

“I hate to sound pessimistic,” the detective said, shaking his head. “But prepaid cell phones usually end up being a dead-end for law enforcement. People who buy them want to be off the grid.”

“You traced the call to Temecula,” Ann said, determined to hang on to the first bit of hope she felt in weeks. “That’s something.”

A smile returned to Tom’s face. “Of course it’s something. Your boy’s alive and well enough to pick up a phone. That’s great news.”

“Temecula’s only sixty miles northeast of here,” Richard said. “Does law enforcement up there know about Travis?”

“We’ve been in contact with every city within a hundred miles of La Jolla,” Tom said. “Now that we have a definite Temecula connection, we’ll work closely with the police there. And we just might get lucky with the phone records. I’ll let you know as soon as we hear something.”

After the police left, Ann and Richard sat in the kitchen, their cell phones and landline on the table between them in case Travis called again.

Ann reached for her cell phone. “I can’t wait to tell Chet. He knows all the mega-churches in southern California. He can get the people up there looking. I’ll call him now.”

Richard stayed her hand. “Wait a minute. Tom said to keep this quiet. Remember. We need to protect Travis and the investigation.”

“You’re right,” Ann conceded. “Let’s let the police do their thing. They seem to know what to do.”

“Thank you, Annie.”

“For what?”

“For giving the police the credit they deserve.” Richard’s smile was so sweet. “And for thinking before you jump.”

They talked about what Travis’s phone call implied about his situation. That he was able to make the call proved he had some freedom. That he hung up abruptly suggested he was caught.

The thought that her son might be punished sickened Ann. “He’s alive, he’s alive.” These words repeated over and over helped keep the scary thoughts at bay. When Ann opened her eyes, she realized she’d been crying.

Richard’s hands were still joined with hers. His eyes were closed.

“Honey, are you awake?”

He opened his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I saw Chet today,” she said. “He’s still upset about Nora’s will and those letters.”

Richard leaned forward. “We never finished our conversation about those letters. What else was in them?”

Ann pulled a small notepad from her purse. “It so happens I wrote down everything Tom told me.” She flipped through the pages. “There were four letters, all by the same man. Apparently Nora’s lover. They were written in the spring of 1978. The last one was dated May first.”

“When did Nora leave Mexico?”

“In one of the letters, this guy, Fallon, mentions her having left on November first,” Ann said. “The last letter’s from the beginning of December. So assuming Nora left Mexico on November 1, he wrote letters for a whole month before stopping.”

“What did he write about?”

“Every day things. His missionary work in another part of Mexico where he had moved. How much he wanted to work things out between them. That Nora had been hasty in leaving him. Stuff like that.”

“So she wanted out of the relationship, but he didn’t,” Richard said.

Ann’s voice was quiet. “Losing their child… She must have been devastated.”

“Didn’t you say that Todd Pannikin used to live in Mexico? And that he was a missionary there.”

“Nora knew Todd from her college days. He lived in Mexico when he was young. And so did she. Todd came back into Nora’s life after her husband died.”

“Nora didn’t like Todd Pannikin much,” Richard said. “Did she?”

Ann nodded. “Her dislike of Todd did seem out of proportion. I mean all he did was befriend Chet. Sure, he introduced Chet to evangelical Christianity, but it’s what Chet wanted. I wonder,” she said. “Could it be that the Chris Fallon in the letters is actually Todd Pannikin?”

“I don’t know,” Richard replied. “But if Todd and Nora were an item, that would mean a prior undisclosed, very close connection between them. It opens up a lot of possibilities.”

“But why wouldn’t Todd come forward when Nora died, to say what their relationship had been?” Ann said.

“If they kept it a secret in life why would he reveal it in death?” Richard said. He was silent for a moment. “I bet Todd was furious when Nora stopped supporting his church. Didn’t she give them a lot of money, in the beginning?”

“She did,” Ann said. After a long moment, she added, “I wonder what happened between them. They kept their relationship secret, and years later, they reconciled. Maybe because they weren’t married. And if they were an item, and their break up was contentious, that would explain why Nora hated Todd in the end. She blamed him for stealing Chet away. Nora had a baby that died, probably Todd’s baby.” Her heart ached. “She carried that burden all by herself.”

“Why would Nora and Todd become friends again after all those years?” Richard asked.

“I don’t know,” Ann said, thinking. “Maybe Todd wormed his way back into Nora’s good graces. He pretends he’s her friend by taking an interest in her son. What better way to punish her?”

“Why would Pannikin want to
punish
Nora?”

“Think about it,” Ann said. “Todd was a missionary in Mexico. Like you said, he’s always been a man of God. Nora had doubts about religion early on. Maybe it was her doubts about God that broke her and Todd up. She leaves him, returns to San Diego. Years later, Todd hears Nora’s a rich widow. He re-enters her life and befriends her son. Chet has problems—depression, divorce. Chet finds in Todd the father figure he never had. And he finds purpose in the church.”

“Why would Nora help Chet build his church if she doesn’t believe in God?” Richard asked.

“Like I told Tom, maybe she was trying to make amends for screwing up Chet’s life. And frankly, Pastor Todd strikes me as a persuasive man. Though after the rude way he treated me in front of the Villarreals that day, I can’t help disliking him.”

“Then you came along and befriended Nora,” Richard said. “You helped her sort through her ideas on religion. Nora then declares she’s an atheist. Todd and Chet must have hated you.”

“I didn’t do anything,’ Ann said, shrugging. “I just supported Nora in the decision she’d already made.”

“But none of this sheds any light on who could have killed Nora. And on who could have kidnapped Travis. Besides, if Pannikin and this Chris Fallon are the same person why would he, Chris-Todd, change his name?”

“All I know is this whole thing with Nora has to have some bearing on Travis,” Ann said. “The messages she left the night she died—it’s almost like she knew what had happened to him.”

“You know,” Richard said. “It’s possible Nora left those messages to reassure you after your fight. Especially, considering she said nothing about Travis at lunch that day. All we know for sure is that Travis called from Temecula. And that according to the FBI some unknown group might have kidnapped him and the other kids. This pattern I’m sensing seems to involve you, our son, and your best friend.” Her husband passed his hand over his chin, thinking. “I can’t help feeling Chet has a role in this somewhere. There’s something secretive and weird about the man.”

“The whole business of Nora’s past is strange,” Ann agreed. “Do you think Pastor Todd could have killed her?”

“Anyone who deals in unreality to the extent the pastor does is capable of anything,” Richard said. “Then again, we could say the same for Chet. In a way he had more reason. Nora declares she’s an atheist and basically cuts him off. Maybe he found out about her will, lost his temper, and killed her.”

“We should confirm that Chris Fallon and Todd Pannikin is the same person before we mention any of this to the police,” Ann said.

Smiling, Richard squeezed her hand affectionately. “Glad you’re not jumping to conclusions. Any more.”

Ann beamed. “You taught me that. I’m so happy, Richard. Travis is alive!”

C
HAPTER
26

Tuesday, October 30