The Stranger Beside You (27 page)

The line rang twice before someone answered.  A vaguely familiar voice came on the line.

“Did you get my message?” asked Mr. Z.

Tom could barely hold back.  The rage was burning hot. 

“Gordon, are you there?” Mr. Z said.

Tom sneered into the phone.  “Gordon is not available.  If you wish to speak to him, you’ll have to scoop his brains into a sandwich baggie and draw a face on it.  Though it might be a rather one-sided conversation.”

The line went silent for a moment.

“Who are you?”

Tom said, “I want to you listen me, Zachariah.  Are you listening?”

Another silence.

“This is Tom Nelson.  I want you to know that I found Baptista and he is dead.”

“You’re a liar.”

“He told me all about you, and then Special Agent Daphne Fleming put a bullet in his head.”

“You’re a dead man.”

“Your little scam is over.  The money tree has died.”

“How did you get this number?”

“I’m standing in Baptista’s neat little workshop.  This was the last number he dialed before he went to be with Jesus.”

“You have no idea who you are messing with!”

“It’s time for you to walk away, Zachariah.  There’s nothing left.  The game is over and you lost.”

Tom waited for a replay.  A long moment of silence followed.

When the voice responded, it was cool and composed.  “Tom Nelson, I will give you twelve hours to wire three millions dollars to a numbered account in the Cayman Islands.  The clock starts now.”

Tom almost laughed.  Even with the pain he managed a smile.

“Did you not hear what I just said?  Did you not understand?” Tom asked.

“Oh, I heard every word very clearly.”

“Then what makes you think I’d give you a dime?”

“Because I have your children.”

55

Sadie was awakened by the sound of Marcus shouting.  Her eyes flew open suddenly and she shot out of bed.  She opened the bedroom door as Marcus came sprinting down the stairs from the loft.  His eyes were wild and frantic.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked.

He was out breath.  “Someone broke in!”

“What?

“Someone busted the lock on the door and got in.” 

She was confused for a second but then saw the front door.  It was standing open a few inches and there were signs of forced entry.  The doorjamb and frame had been busted and there was debris on the floor.  The lock had been punched out and   small pieces of splintered wood were scattered around the entry. 

“What…how…who could have…” she stammered, staring in disbelief.

“They broke into the cabin while we were asleep!”

“The children!” she said, her body seizing with panic.  “Where are the children?”  Then she spotted Jewel asleep in the fetal position on a couch in front of the TV.  Even with the shouting the girl hadn’t stirred.

“Dante and Marcus Jr. are fine,” he told her.  “I found them in bed asleep upstairs in the loft.”

Sadie nearly collapsed in relief.  “I’m shaking.”

She took a closer look at the door.  She timidly touched the frame where the painted trim had buckled inward under pressure from whatever tool the intruders had used.

“Listen to me,” Marcus said, grabbing her by the arms.

She stared him straight in the eyes.  What she saw was total fear.  “What is it?” she asked.

“Josh and Ashton are missing.”

“What do you mean?”

“The other bed in the loft is empty.  I was up there two seconds ago.  Someone has snatched them.  The sheets are stripped like there might have been a struggle.  They’re gone, Sadie!”

“Don’t say that.  Please don’t say that,” she shook her head and pulled away from him.  “You’re scaring me.” 

He indicated the front door.  “It took a lot of force to do that much damage,” Marcus said.  “It seems impossible that we didn’t hear them but somehow they found us and they came in and took those boys while we were sleeping.”

“How could they have found us?”

“I don’t know.”

Sadie struggled to make sense of it.  “Have you looked outside?”

“Stay with the kids,” he held up the gun.  “I’m going out there.”

He was nearly out the door when she grabbed his arm. 

“What if the people who took them come back?”

“Keep this door closed,” he said.  “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

Marcus ran out to the minivan and put the keys in the ignition.  His hope was that whoever had taken the boys might still be close by.  The seat was up too far for him, so he racked it back to make leg room.  He punched the gas and the tires threw gravel.  He drove for two miles, the minivan hitting seventy miles an hour on the narrow road.  Then he simply stopped.  Whoever had taken the boys was long gone.  He couldn’t imagine what he’d say to Brynn.

He turned the minivan around.  He was sick of living in fear, tired of being a puppet.  When he returned to the cabin, Sadie was huddled on the couch with Jewel.

“I’m not running from these people anymore,” he said.  “Call the Sheriff.”

56

When she heard the sounds she thought she was dreaming.  Rosemary Gladwell had drifted in and out of consciousness for sometime now.  She opened her eyes, then she heard the sounds again.  Had the man with the beard finally returned?  Yes, she was certain of it, though she couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Rosemary was lying on her side when she awoke, the side of her face pressed against the cool cement.  She raised her head.  The darkness was still overwhelming.  She turned her ear toward the sound.  Someone was definitely upstairs.  She crawled to the bed frame.  It would take all her strength to climb back up and lie down, strength she didn’t believe she could find.  Tears streaked down her face.  She remembered the day the man with the beard rang her doorbell and would give up everything she’d ever had to be able to go back and not answer the door.  None of this would have happened.  She didn’t know what month it was, or whether it was day or night.  She was totally unplugged from the outside world.

The upstairs door opened.  She heard voices.  Could someone be coming to rescue her?  Rosemary twisted around and sat with her back to the bed frame.  She was nearly too exhausted to hold her head up.  It wobbled on her shoulders.  There were heavy footsteps on the stairs.  Did they know she was there?  Would they be able to find her?  She panicked, thinking perhaps whoever it was might take a quickly look around at the top of the stairs and then leave. 

Oh no!  Please, no!

She tried to call out, but her throat was impossibly dry.

“In here!” she whispered, “I’m in here!”  She was startled by the sound of her own voice.  “Please help!  I’m in here!”

She could hear the voices of at least two men.  She heard the lock rattle and her heart jumped.  
Finally
, she thought,
finally!

Then the door opened and the room suddenly filled with light.

Rosemary turned away and shielded her eyes. 

“What do you want to do with her?” one man said to another.

“It stinks in here,” another male voice said.

“She’s been sitting in her own piss for weeks.”

“She’s just an old woman.  Leave her down here with the boys.”

Rosemary turned.  The light was blinding.  She didn’t recognize either of the men.  They were standing at the door.  “Please, you have to help me!  Don’t leave me here!”

“Throw them in,” said the man in charge.

Rosemary squinted against the light and saw the men back away from the door.  As they stepped out of the way, a third man came forward and shoved two young boys into the room with her and slammed the door shut.

57

Finch locked the door and followed Mr. Z and Garcia up the stairs and out of the basement.  The sun had set and they kept the lights off in the house.  Garcia had stripped the kitchen clean of food weeks ago, so they had bags of Chinese takeout on the kitchen table.  They dished up and went upstairs to Garcia’s surveillance room. 

Mr. Z put his eye to the telescope.  The scene outside the Nelson home was a circus, crawling with FBI and local cops.  It was lit up like the Super Bowl.  He smiled.  He just couldn’t help himself.

“We have their attention now,” Mr. Z said.  “The days of playing games are over.  No more threats.  Now it’s all business.” 

•  •  •

It was dark by the time cars from the local Sheriff’s office arrived at the cabin.  They had search dogs, and within twenty minutes the area was swarming with both law enforcement personnel and volunteers.  Sadie and the kids took refuge inside the cabin.  A deputy asked them a thousand questions.  Sadie could barely keep her thoughts straight. 

“I loved those boys like they were my own children,” she kept repeating.  “I can’t believe this is happening.  You have to find them!”

They brought in more dogs and more volunteers.  Helicopters with big searchlights circled overhead. 

Marcus pulled the Sheriff aside.

“You can search these woods from now till the end of time, but you won’t find those children,” he said.  “I don’t know where they’re at, but I know who took them.” 

•  •  •

Chelsea heard the knock and opened the door.  Tom stumbled into her apartment and leaned against a wall.  He had barely made the drive back to D.C without bleeding to death.

“You’re bleeding!” she said.

“I need your help.”

“What happened?  Where is Daphne?”

He shook his head.  “She’s gone,” he answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Please, there’s no time.  You’re a nurse, right?”

She nodded. 

“I’ve been shot.  I need you to stop the bleeding and bandage me up.”

“Let me get you to an emergency room.”

“No, I have to get back to New York.”

“That’s a bad wound.  You’ll die if you don’t get to a hospital.”

“I’m fine, I just need you to stop the bleeding.  Please, I have to go.”

Chelsea hesitated, staring at all the blood.

“Okay,” she said at last.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

•  •  •

There was a car waiting for us at JFK.  I rode in the backseat and tried not to dwell on what I was heading into.  The agent at the wheel put a light on top of the car and sped through New York traffic like it was the final lap of the Indy 500.  He ignored all traffic lights and every rule of the road.  I held on tight.  I was still reeling from everything Special Agent Armstrong had told me.  I closed my eyes and replayed her words, trying to make sense of it and wanting to believe. 

Not only was my husband alive, he was the hero in all of this.  He had put his own life at risk to save a friend.  He was not a thief, or a cheat, or a liar.  I so desperately wanted to believe but I would have to touch him, hold him, and stare into his eyes before I could truly believe a word of it.

At the top of our street I saw the lights.  There were cars everywhere and the house was roped off with yellow police tape.  My home had become a crime scene.

58

Aaron McFadden’s body had been dumped at our front door.  By the time we got there, the coroner had already taken the body away.  There was blood all over my porch.  A message had been scrawled in blood on the front door:  WE HAVE THE BOYS. 

There were television vans with news crews filming the commotion and reporters interviewing neighbors.  This was my address, but it didn’t look or feel like my home.  It felt like I’d been dropped onto a movie set.

Special Agent Chapman was the agent in charge at the scene.  He saw us coming and met us halfway.

“What does that mean?” I asked, pointing at the door. 

“We don’t know.”

“Where are my children?”

“We have no idea.”

I wanted to tear my hair out.  I needed to find Marcus and Sadie so that I could know that my boys were safe.

“You owe me some answers,” he said to me.  “The corpse they dropped at your door was your husband’s boss.  What I want to know is, what kind of crap was Tom involved with?”

“It’s not what you think,” I said.

Armstrong was standing beside me.  I gave her a look.

“Should I explain the details, or should you?” I said.

She shook her head.  “You go on inside.  I’ll do the talking.”

I left them there on the front lawn and went in through the garage.  I sat at the kitchen table and bowed my head with my face in my hands.  The house was filled with men with badges, radio chatter filling my ears.  A few nights earlier I had sat in the same chair and called Clive Rozzell to tell him Tom had been arrested.  That seemed like only ten minutes ago.  The passage of days was a blur.  I found the cordless phone and dialed Sadie’s home number.  No answer.  I dialed her cell phone and it went to voice mail. 

Where are you guys?

I glanced at the caller ID window and saw that I had voice mail messages.  I dialed the number and entered my code.  The electronic voice told me “You have two unheard messages.” 

The first message was from Tom.  I nearly collapsed to the floor at the sound of his voice.  “Brynn, it’s Tom.  I hope you get this in time.  I don’t know what’s going on or what to believe right now, but Mr. Z claims he has the boys.  If you know anything please call me at this number.  I have a plan.  I’m on my way home but that’s going to take several hours.  I’m going to grab a seat on the next Amtrak train out of DC.  I love you.”

My hands were trembling, tears streaming down my face.  I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he was really truly alive.  I listened to the second message.  Suddenly my blood ran cold.

“Brynn Nelson, I have someone here who would like to say hello.”

Then I heard a second voice on the line.

“Mommy, I’m so scared,” I heard Josh say.  I felt ice in my chest.  “I don’t like these people, Mommy.  I want to come home.  Please bring Ashton and me home!  Please, I’m scared!”