Taken (35 page)

He could see the struggle in her expression, but he also saw signs of something really positive happening. Her emotions were unlocking and she was feeling again, when in the past she’d had everything so tightly controlled she turned numb. He would have to help her gauge where the guardrails were so she didn’t end up in a downward spiral during the process, though that was a minor concern. She was alive again.

“We’ll let matters play out,” he agreed, “but you’ll take advice from the people who care about you—Jeffery, John, me? Let us buffer those shocks so that you get through them in an orderly fashion.”

She nodded. “Can you just get me to the end of this?” Her voice had turned almost to pleading. “That’s what I want. That’s what I
need
.”

He tightened his hand on hers. “I’ll get you there, Shannon.”

She’d gone from the tight control of a survivor, thinking once she got to freedom, the most intense moments would be over, to the reality that freedom only brought more layers of those moving pieces—law enforcement and family, along with
decisions to make on her own future. He was hearing her need to be through this for what it was—the deep desire to have her world stop rocking and simply be the same from one day to the next. A few more hard days, and then he could get her to that place where the world stopped shifting on her.

H
is phone rang just after nine p.m. “Yes, Paul.” Matthew moved his arm from around Shannon and got up from the couch, walked into the office. She muted the television when he returned.

“They arrested George Jacoby,” he told her. “Two cops were slightly hurt, and there was some damage to the motel room. But otherwise all went smoothly. Flynn had set himself up in the café across the street. He made a call, got George distracted for an instant so the cops could get in and surround him. Flynn’s on his way to Chicago. They’ll keep George in Alabama for now.”

“How many years in jail is Flynn facing?”

Matthew shook his head. “That’s yet to be determined, but the conversations starting tonight will influence that decision. Paul said to pass the word that Flynn seemed in good spirits, was mostly relieved this was concluding. Another week or so, Paul will see about arranging a conversation for you with Flynn, if you’d like that.”

“His birthday is at the end of July. I’d like to take him a cupcake or something.”

“That would be a nice gesture.” Matthew thought about how to end the day, walked over and took a seat beside Shannon on the couch.

“You’re still looking pensive,” she said, watching him warily.

“I need to tell you something about your mom before the press conference tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Something hard to hear.”

“It’s going to be easier to hear than all this buildup.”

Matthew was careful to keep his voice level as he said, “Flynn told me your mom was behind your abduction. He provided an envelope that he said held proof of it.”

Her eyes went glassy.

He took her hand, squeezed it. “Take a breath,” he said firmly, and waited until she’d done so. “Another one, please.”

Her face was a mask, wiped of all expression. “Why did you tell me?” she whispered.

“The final shocks are coming, and this is the biggest one. I’m going to ask Jeffery to arrange for someone who has medical training to be with her . . . in case she can’t absorb another wave of guilt.”

“Oh. Oh, Matthew, I can’t . . . I don’t . . .”

He eased her over against his shoulder. “That’s better,” he murmured. “When I get back to Boston, I think I should burn that envelope.”

Her tears drenched his shirt.

It took a long time before she spoke again. “Tell me what you know.”

“Jeffery has been calling your family to alert them to what’s coming at the press conference in the morning. Your mom’s sister lives in Colorado, not that far from the address you gave
me for Sanford Bliss. Now that she knows about your return, I called her. I asked your aunt some rather direct questions about what was happening eleven years ago.

“I found out your mother was talking about going out to Colorado to live. She wanted you to go to the high school for gifted students that’s nearby. Her sister didn’t have room at her condo, but Sanford had said the two of you could come stay with him. It was all very tentative, and your aunt was trying to talk your mom out of the idea. But she seemed determined.

“It sounds like your mother was going to talk with your father that weekend about ending the marriage, and she worried that the truth of the affair and that you aren’t his daughter would come out. She wanted you to be with your friends, and Jeffery being away that weekend would avoid either of you overhearing any confrontation.

“I believe your mom talked not only to your aunt but also to your uncle about her plans,” Matthew continued, focusing on how he thought this had gone wrong. “But your uncle saw the coming divorce as inevitably exposing what he’d been doing with company funds. He panicked. I think the truth is your uncle was behind what happened to you. He wanted your parents to both realize how much they loved you and that they needed to stay together for your sake. Failing that, he’d use the ransom money to cover up his theft of company funds.

“I believe your uncle arranged for you to be taken out to Sanford’s place, trusting that Sanford would get you safely back home. Only it turned out that what was to be a three-day abduction, ransom, and you’re back home, turned into a tragedy. Sanford was innocent in this, and your mother’s only part was to speak to someone she trusted before she took the steps to leave her marriage.”

Shannon’s hand tightened on his. “You think your original idea of what happened is the right one. You’re back to thinking my uncle was behind it all.”

“Your mother loves you. I cannot put together under any scenario your mom arranging to send you out to Sanford with strangers. That simply doesn’t fit with your mother then or now, Shannon. Whatever Flynn has, it’s evidence that comes from what the smuggling family was told about you, the photo they had, the place to drop you off. Flynn gave me the lawyer’s name who made the arrangements. I think I could prove it was your uncle and not your mother who was using that lawyer to arrange what happened, that it was your uncle at the heart of it.” He stopped and gently turned her face toward his. “But I’d rather not even try. I’d rather trust what I see.

“Once your uncle committed suicide, I imagine your mother has always wondered what she might have set into motion, what part she might have played in what happened. I don’t want her to learn you were to be left at the home of Sanford Bliss. I think that confirms her terrible fears, maybe shocks her into a heart attack. I think we never tell Paul that address. We never give him the first diary. And I burn that envelope Flynn gave me.”

Shannon shuddered as he finished speaking, a sob shaking her frame.

“Keep the envelope, but unopened,” she finally whispered. “Someone makes an accusation against Mom, we might need to use it to unravel matters to prove what you suspect.”

Silence stretched and she offered nothing else.

“Talk to me, Shannon.”

“Whatever happened, to punish my mother now would be to punish me even more. My choice. Leave it in the past. Whatever
happened eleven years ago, I don’t want it robbing me of anything else I value. I need my mother,” she choked out.

He wrapped his arms around her, let her rest against him as the tears fell. “I can live with that too,” he said softly.

Shannon worked her fingers between his, gripping his hand. Matthew liked the interlocking image. “Tomorrow at the press conference,” Shannon said, “would you be there, behind the scenes? We’re friends. I don’t want to box you into something that might seem like it’s more than that. John’s going to stand up with me, the visible security presence. For Becky’s sake, it would be better if you’re simply someone I arranged to help me through my return, all the legal stuff, and so forth.”

“I don’t mind if the press sees us together, even if they wonder about us.” Matthew had talked matters over with Becky, thought they had a plan in place that would work for her too. “And who knows,” he finished lightly, “you and I might be a couple one day . . . maybe five years from now.”

She leaned back to study his face. “Do I have to go out with half a dozen guys before I can come back and say you’re still my choice? Or can it be, like, maybe one or two? I like you, Matthew. And I know you like me.”

“I’m not the best guy for you,” he replied gently. “For one thing, I’m too old.”

She made a face at him. “You’ve got the experience with Becky that helps you understand where I’ve been, what I’ve faced. If you were younger, you wouldn’t have that. And your daughter I already love.”

He smiled. “You make it all sound very appealing, Shannon. And I can already tell Becky would adore having you around.”

“Let me hope, Matthew, that one day you and I could be a couple. It makes the full recovery seem like a stepping-stone to something good. Maybe even something wonderful.”

He ran a hand down her hair. “I’ll give you reality instead. I like you, Shannon. I plan to walk these next months and years with you. If we turn that friendship into something more one day, that would be fine with me.”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being willing to see past my present mess.”

“You’ll heal. And you will have completed those five items one day.”

“One day,” she responded, sounding reflective. “But I didn’t realize to get my high school diploma I’m going to have to pass American history.”

Matthew laughed. “Becky found that one challenging too. By the way, what’s number five on your list? Every Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve . . . you marked over it.”

“It’s private, and it’s the last one for a reason. I pretty much need the first four to come true before I can have number five.”

He thought about that, grinned. “Okay.”

She turned her head to look up at him. “What do you think it is?”

“I think I’ll keep my idea to myself.”

She smiled and moved to stand. “It’s late. I’m turning in. I need a couple of hours in the morning to get ready for that press conference. And breakfast had better be very bland so I don’t get sick from stage fright.”

“A banana and a glazed donut, I think.”

“I like you.”

“I’ll try to get you to eat healthy when it’s a low-stress season
in life.” He held out the pillow she’d brought in to take back with her. “Sleep well, Shannon.”

Her eyes were puffy, she clearly had a headache, she looked tired, but her smile was real. “Good night, Matthew.”

He watched her disappear down the hall. She was feeling again—everything that had happened, the good and the bad. “Thanks, God,” he whispered. He shut off the lights and took himself across the hall.

M
atthew settled in the green room just off the stage. The press room held sixty chairs, and it appeared most of them were occupied. Television cameras from two national news-affiliated channels were set up and ready to go, their images key to how the event would unfold across Chicago and the nation in the next hour. Matthew chose to watch the large-screen television rather than view it live; he’d be able to give Shannon better feedback on how it went if he’d viewed it like the TV audience would be seeing it. Charlotte and Ann were assisting Shannon with last-minute hair and makeup checks, and he couldn’t help there.

Jeffery stepped to the podium, and instantly the room quieted. Matthew found himself holding his breath.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the press conference I’ve hoped to hold for the last eleven years,” Jeffery began, looking out at the reporters relaxed, confident, a man with good news to share. “I would like to thank the thousands of individuals who have helped search for my sister over the years, and also
the numerous organizations and businesses that went out of their way to assist in this effort.

“My sister, Shannon Bliss, escaped from her captors and was able to make contact with a retired member of law enforcement. She returned to Chicago on the night of June fourteen. She is in good health and good spirits.” There was an immediate stir among the newspeople. A hand or two shot up, but Jeffery gave a short shake of his head.

“The FBI and Chicago Police Department,” he continued, “assisted by numerous law-enforcement agencies around the country, are now in the process of arresting eighteen individuals associated with the abduction of my sister, as well as several other children. They will be releasing information regarding her case when it’s appropriate and when it will not compromise the investigation.

“My sister has chosen not to speak about any details of this matter until after the election, and I will respect her wishes. I will be taking no questions at this time. All inquiries to me and the Bliss family will be directed back to this press conference and accompanying press statement. After the election, Shannon will sit down for one comprehensive interview with a television and print journalist of her choosing, and she will endeavor to answer all pertinent questions covering the last eleven years.

“Again, I wish to say thank you on behalf of myself and the Bliss family for the work done by so many to locate and bring my sister home. This is a day full of joy for so many.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my sister, Shannon Bliss.”

Shannon walked onstage wearing her drop-dead-gorgeous dress—looking poised, confident, comfortable in the high heels, a natural smile on her face. A couple of shouted questions emerged over the applause. She paused in front of the
microphone. “Thank you, Chicago. It’s nice to be home.” Her brother wrapped his arm around her waist, and they weathered the flashbulbs going off like strobe lights, illuminating their faces.

Shannon gave the photographers two minutes, then stepped briefly to the microphone once more. “I won’t be talking about matters until law enforcement has completed their work and the election is past—that seems only common sense at this time. But I look forward to answering your questions in the fall. I plan to be around some during the next few months, but on the advice of doctors, I’ll mostly be resting. You’ll forgive me if I prefer to do that on a beach somewhere.” Spontaneous laughter met her remark. “Please,” she said when it was quiet again, “don’t take my absence as a lack of interest in my brother’s campaign. I’d be a distraction, and I’d rather like him to win, so I’ll see you again in mid-November.” She reached up and kissed her brother’s cheek, turned and walked back offstage.

“How did I do?”

Shannon was trembling so hard, Matthew closed his hand around hers to hold her glass of water. “You were fabulous. Drink some more. It’s a good thing you only get the shakes
after
the moment’s over.”

“I was pretending to be someone else. Imagining Jeffery standing up several times a week to give a speech—and doing it voluntarily—is enough to make me question his sanity.” She tried to laugh.

Her brother behind her picked up the last of her words, and he laughed as he took her arm. “It’s only fearful if you think you’re supposed to make them like you. You did great, Shannon. Where’s John?”

“Here,” John said from near the door.

“It’s time to get you out of here, Shannon, before they come clambering through the doors and track you down. I’m old news today,” Jeffery admitted with a grin.

Shannon pointed toward a nice-looking lady dressed as her twin. “My decoy is ready. Let me go get changed. Five minutes, Jeffery, I’ll be safely out of here. If I don’t see you in the next few days, have a wonderful Fourth.”

“I’m so proud of you. I’ll go buy a few more minutes of distraction for you—let the press ask something pedestrian, like what your return is going to mean for the campaign.” He smiled and headed back toward the podium.

“He actually loves this,” Shannon said, shaking her head.

Matthew laughed. “He does. Go change. He’s right about the time.”

Shannon grabbed her gym bag and rushed across the hall to the restroom. Soon she came back dressed in jeans and her favorite Tex-Mex T-shirt, her feet pushed into the old blue tennis shoes. “I left my dress in its garment bag. Jeffery promised that his assistant would see it safely home.”

John signaled it was time, and the lady dressed as Shannon had been, along with two security officers, headed down the private elevator to the basement parking garage, the route often used by VIPs. Reporters would be watching for her to leave the building, expecting that to be the route, and the decoy would hopefully draw at least a few of them away.

Matthew took Shannon’s hand and followed John down to the lower level of the building, through the maintenance department to the loading dock, where a semi with trailer had backed up to unload cases of paper goods. They stepped down beside the truck to the waiting car wedged in behind the angled semi’s
cab. John had the car running with the air-conditioning on while he made a few calls, then gave a thumbs-up to the truck driver. The semi pulled forward, clearing their path. They pulled out of the parking lot, into the street heading north, no one the wiser. Five minutes later, John had confirmed they weren’t being followed, and he turned east in the direction of the apartment.