Sufficient Ransom (16 page)

When Kika longed for comfort and human understanding, she prayed to the Virgin Mother. The Almighty Father wasn’t as good a listener.

1:00 P.M
.

A
fter leaving the Aziz’s, Ann and Richard headed to Nora March’s house. Ann had accepted her friend’s invitation to lunch because she couldn’t stand the thought of going home to her empty house. Seated in Nora’s kitchen, Ann felt discouraged that she and Richard hadn’t learned anything useful from the Valdez and Aziz families.

“The website and Facebook page your private agency set up seem to be pulling in a lot of people,” Nora said. “Hopefully leads for the police to follow up on.”

Ann noticed that her friend had an odd look on her face, despite her hopeful words. “What is it, Nora?” she asked gently. “You look distracted.”

The frown lines on Nora’s forehead deepened. “I’ve been thinking of Kika.”

Ann leaned forward. “What about her?”

“You know she’s adopted. She said her mother died while giving birth to her. Kika put an ad in Mexico’s national papers asking her birth father to contact her. When nothing came of it, she hired a detective here in the States to try to find him.”

Ann leaned back annoyed her friend was once again veering off topic. “What does this have to do with Travis? Besides, I thought you didn’t know her very well.”

“Kika told me all of this over lunch one day,” Nora said. “She seemed to take an instant liking to me. It’s strange. But I felt a connection with her too. Maybe it’s because she talked so much about herself, I felt like I had known her for a long time.” Nora spoke a little timidly as if she feared Ann would cut into her for humanizing Kika. “While it’s true that none of this directly relates to Travis, we might learn more about what’s happened if we review what we already know.”

“About Kika’s adoption,” Richard said, apparently agreeing with Nora’s reasoning. “Wouldn’t the agency that handled the adoption have information on her biological parents?”

“She said there were no such papers,” Nora said.

“Why do you think she went to such lengths to find her father?” Richard said.

Ann could not care less about Kika’s convoluted history. “Our focus should be on Travis not on that crazy’s childhood.”

“Nora’s right, Ann,” her husband said. “The more we learn about Kika the better our chances of finding Travis. Please, Nora. Go on.”

Casting an appeasing glance at Ann, Nora continued. “Apparently Kika had had a terrible childhood. Her mother was abusive. She wanted to know her roots. I imagine it must have made her feel better about herself, and maybe not so alone. Kika said her birth father gave her to Antonia because he couldn’t care for her. He was probably some foolish young man who got himself in a scrape and didn’t want the responsibility of raising a child.”

“Before, you said Kika came to the orphanage to meet you,” Richard said. “Something about your knowing her mother. But you didn’t know her. Is that right?”

“Correct. Her mother told Kika we were friends. She kept photographs and newspaper clippings about Peter and me. I had never even heard of Antonia Garcia.”

“Maybe you met Kika’s mother when you lived in Mexico,” Richard said.

“Kika showed me a picture of her,” Nora said. “She had a striking face, like Joan Crawford. I would have remembered her. Frankly, at the time I thought the whole thing was a little creepy. In the end, it was really a non-issue. Kika did good work at the orphanage and when she got the job at CPS, she moved on.”

“Did this detective Kika hired find her father?” Richard said.

Nora shook her head. “Nothing came of that either.”

Ann thought that the social worker’s boyfriend had more bearing on Travis’s situation than her childhood did. She asked her friend, “How did Kika meet Max Ruiz?”

“I guess her mother was a wealthy activist of sorts,” Nora said. “She was always pushing Kika to join this or that cause. Kika met Max at an
orphanage where she volunteered. Ruiz has given a lot of money to these places. They share a common interest in helping children.”

Yeah, Ann thought. She likes helping herself to
other
people’s children.

“I think the police should know about Kika’s past,” Richard said.

“I was going to call them,” Nora said. “But I wanted to tell you first.”

Nora’s telephone rang. It was her son, Chet. He had seen the Olsons’ Land Rover parked in Nora’s driveway. Would it be okay if he joined them?

After thanking Chet for the work he and his church were doing on behalf of Travis, Richard filled him in on their visits to the Valdez and the Aziz families.

When Nora asked Richard what Mrs. Valdez thought had happened to her son, Ann noticed that Chet avoided looking at his mother. She wondered if Chet and Nora had had another fight, or if this was the new norm for them. These days Chet’s refusal to leave his mother to her beliefs had evidently strained their relationship. Since becoming a pastor five years ago, Chet had taken it upon himself to save Nora’s soul from hell, where he was sure she’d end up, if she didn’t accept Jesus as her personal savior. Ann imagined that in Chet’s line of work, having a non-believing mother was embarrassing.

Ann thought back to the day she met her elderly friend. It was two years ago. They were at a local grocery store.

Travis kept grabbing at the candy bars in the racks that lined the checkout aisle and whipping them onto the conveyor belt. When Ann asked him to stop, he kept right on doing it. The customers in line behind them looked horrified
.

A kindly-looking older woman ahead of them in the line gently admonished Travis to listen to his mother. Her words had a calming effect on Travis. After paying for their groceries, Ann and her son headed to the Starbucks next door for a cup of tea to calm her frazzled nerves. A few minutes later, the older woman from the grocery store walked up and asked Ann if she could share their table
.

“If you don’t mind an occasional outburst from…,” Ann said, indicating Travis, who was busy licking pastry crumbs from his fingers
.

Assuring Ann that she didn’t, the woman, who introduced herself as Nora March, took a seat. Ann was soon drawn into conversation with this woman with kind eyes and a gentle voice. When Nora asked whether she was a stay-at-home mother, Ann broke off a piece of the bagel she’d been nibbling and gave it to Travis. “Why don’t you go feed those birds over there, sweetie.”

While Travis was busy on a patch of grass nearby, Ann confided to Nora that she yearned to return to work, but she felt guilty. She told Nora how, after her parents had divorced, she vowed never to abandon her child, the way her mother had left her
.

When Travis started complaining that he was bored and wanted to go home, Ann found herself scribbling her phone number on a piece of paper and pressing it into Nora’s hand. “I have to go now,” she said. “Please call me. I’d love to talk again, sometime.”

Richard was saying, “Señora Valdez doesn’t seem to know much of anything...”

Studying Nora’s face, as Nora listened to Richard, it occurred to Ann that despite her friend’s placid demeanor, she was as much a staunch defender of her own values as Chet was of his. He had turned away from his mother, his arms folded tightly across his chest. It saddened Ann to think that mother and son couldn’t find a way to get along.

Mother and son. Her and Travis
.

5:30 P.M
.

A
nn and Richard had returned home. Ann was in her office on the Internet trying to find information on the Ruiz family, when the telephone rang. Ann was surprised to hear Chet March’s voice on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry about this afternoon,” the pastor said. “Things are a little tense between me and Mother.”

“You love Nora and she loves you,” Ann said, vaguely aware that her words sounded trite. The problems between Chet and his mother were really the last thing on her mind.

Chet cleared his throat. “The reason I’m calling is that I uh, I wanted to invite you and Richard to a special New Way event tomorrow morning.”

“What event?” Ann asked.

“It’s a group baptism, actually.” Chet’s words were a little rushed as if he expected Ann to hang up on him. “It’s at La Jolla Shores. Same place as the vigil. We usually have the ceremonies on Sundays, but this week we couldn’t fit it in. So early on Monday it is. Baptism’s a unique experience, Ann. I thought you might find the event uplifting, given everything you’re going through now.”

Though Ann thought Chet’s invitation strange, she tried not to sound rude. “You know we’re not religious, Chet.”

“Yeah, I know. I just thought it’d give you a chance to get out and experience the hopeful side of things. And I want you to know, Ann, I’m hopeful Travis will soon be home.”

In truth, Ann couldn’t care less about some weird ritual that had no bearing on her son. When she said as much, in as polite a way as possible, Chet didn’t seem to mind. “In case you decide to…,” the pastor said, and he gave her the details.

Ann hung up feeling a little confused. That Christians would want to help people in her situation was a given. Treating people with kindness was one of her own personal tenets. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling that Chet had a personal stake in finding Travis. There was an
intensity about the pastor, and his quest to be helpful, that made her uncomfortable. Ann shook her head. Maybe Chet felt that he had to prove to his mother’s atheist friend that a religious affiliation came with benefits.

Unsure what to do next, Ann typed the words “New Way Evangelical Baptism,” into YouTube. She scrolled through the links, selecting one that featured Chet standing on a beach in front of the ocean.

The video started. “Hi. My name is Chet March. I’m a pastor at New Way Evangelical Church. We’re here at La Jolla Shores Beach in San Diego.” Chet’s arm swept back indicating the sparkling water behind him. “Today, more than a hundred people will announce to the world that their life belongs to Christ.”

The sound of people cheering and clapping in the background contrasted sharply with Chet’s seriousness as he looked straight at the camera. The next scene showed a large crowd of youngish people, casually dressed. Many of them in bathing suits. Next, Chet and a female assistant were standing in waist-high water on either side of a middle-aged woman in a one-piece bathing suit. The ocean was eerily calm.

“Please state your full name,” Chet said to the woman, his hand reaching down for water. After the woman gave her name, the pastor cupped a small amount of water to her head. “Cassy Ada O’Brien, I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” The woman held her nose while Chet dipped her backwards. She came up wet and smiling. More off-camera clapping and cheers.

Ann hit the
Back
button. The next video that caught her eye, “Katie Nolan’s New Way Baptism,” featured a photograph of a six or seven-year-old girl dressed in a long white dress, standing next to Chet.

Ann clicked on the picture and the short video began. Chet and Katie Nolan were standing in what appeared to be a small indoor pool. A large metal cross on the wall behind the pool indicated they were probably in a church. Ann noted that Katie Nolan looked frightened. After the preliminary baptismal announcement, Chet placed his hand
over the girl’s nose and mouth and tipped her back into the water. The child’s thin arms flailed helplessly.

Ann felt sick. Something about the image of Chet and the girl disturbed her. Maybe it was the child’s obvious fear. Or maybe it was Chet’s hand over the girl’s face—it looked like he was smothering her. She wondered how the girl’s parents could put their daughter in such a scary situation.

Images of her own son came to Ann. His trusting brown eyes. His hand reaching for hers. What if Travis was scared? What if
he
was being harmed?

7:30 P.M
.

T
om Long had called ahead to warn Ann that he would be coming over with Agent Julian Fox. The detective explained that his partner, Will Pruitt, had just had emergency bypass surgery. With Pruitt out of commission for the foreseeable future, Tom had asked Julian Fox to play a more active role in the investigation of Travis’s disappearance. Julian’s expertise in the international arena, the detective said, made him a valuable asset. When Ann expressed doubt, Tom added, “Julian comes from a long line of cops. His father used to be the San Diego Police Chief. I know he rubs you the wrong way, Ann. But trust me, he knows his stuff.”

When Julian Fox entered the living room, Ann greeted him politely. She wasn’t about to let her dislike of the agent interfere with the search for her son. Turning to Tom Long, she felt the agent’s watchful eyes on her. She wondered if Fox still believed that she and Richard had anything to with Travis’s disappearance.

When they all were seated, Tom Long began, “We just came from Border Patrol Headquarters. They have photos of Ms. Garcia’s license plate and the hood of her red Toyota Corolla crossing into Mexico on October 2. The night Travis disappeared.”

Ann was on the edge of her seat. “Was Travis in the car?”

Tom Long shook his head. “Unfortunately there were no images of Ms. Garcia or any passenger she may have had.”

Hope fading, Ann looked from her husband to Tom and to finally to Julian. She wanted to know what law enforcement was really thinking. “Is Kika still your main suspect?” she asked.

Tom sat back deferring to Julian Fox, who was seated at the end of the sofa. The agent’s eyes locked on Ann’s. “Why do you ask?”

Ann rubbed her forehead in a gesture of confused despair. “I can’t imagine anyone else but Kika doing this. But lately… after talking to the other families... I just wonder. I mean I can’t think who else would do it…” She threw up her hands. “I just don’t know any more.”

“It so happens Julian and I have been voicing these same concerns to each other,” Tom said.

Richard leaned in. “But who else could’ve done it?”

Tom Long heaved a sigh. “We haven’t yet identified another suspect. We alibi’d out every parolee and pedophile within a ten-mile radius. Construction crews working the area in the weeks leading up to October 2 all came back clean. We checked with UPS delivery to see if they noticed anything suspicious. Anyone hanging around your neighborhood or watching your house. Ditto for the mail man, the cable company, and the gas company. The neighbors. We talked to the woman who called CPS on you. She was away that weekend. Others on your street—all clean.”