Abduction (26 page)

“I’m sorry,
Sis.”

Karen looked
up at her brother, staring at him for a moment. The bleak look in his eyes made
her heart twist.

“No need, Ray.
I just can’t seem to think straight right now.”

Ray pushed off
from the counter and pulled out a chair across the table from her. He spun it
backwards on one leg and straddled it. “No small wonder. I think you’re
entitled.”

“I just don’t
understand any of this, Ray. Did Ted take the money to the kidnappers? Or was
he really lying to me? And where is he? What if he’s really dead like the
police say?” Her head began to throb. “I just can’t accept that he’s dead.
Maybe I just don’t want to.” She choked out a laugh full of bitter
self-condemnation. “Good old Karen. Never could accept reality.”

“You accept
reality just fine. Don’t listen to Dad. You saw what it did to Mom.” He folded
his arms over the back of the chair and set his chin on his arms. “As for Ted,
there’s no telling what he was up to. And that makes it difficult for me,
because you know I never trusted him. If I say he lied to you, you’ll get
defensive again.”

It wasn’t hard to tell they were related. Both had
inherited their mother’s dark brown hair that leaned toward auburn and the
brown eyes that could seem anywhere from burnished gold to pale green depending
on the color of their clothing. While Karen had the same petite figure as her
mother and Ray was much taller and broader, they had the same long face,
straight eyebrows, and full lips.

And both could be as stubborn as their father
when it suited them.

But Karen
wasn’t feeling the least bit stubborn on this particular evening. She was
feeling lost and confused, and if Ray could make any sense at all out of the
situation, she was willing to listen.

“How about if I promise not to disagree with
anything you say?”

Ray’s smile
was more of a crooked grin, but it was enough to
make her heart feel lighter than it had all day. “Okay, but the minute
I see that pout, I’m running for the guest room.”

Karen rolled
her eyes. “Deal.”

Suddenly, as if a switch were flipped, Ray turned
very serious. “My take is this: Ted has his own agenda, and after clearing out
the bank accounts, he told you he had to go meet the kidnappers. He made you
promise not to call the police so that he would have more
time to get
far away.”

“Okay. Let’s
say you’re right. If he wanted to leave me, why not just say so and leave? Why
pretend to be going to meet the kidnappers? He had me sufficiently cowed that
he could walk out with minimum fuss.”

Ray stared at
her. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you aren’t one very smart broad.”

Karen laughed,
feeling the compliment down to her toes. “But why would he be avoiding the
police? Unless he had something to do with Jessica’s disappearance. See, that’s
where I have a problem. He couldn’t have planned all this.”

“Okay,” Ray
continued. “If he didn’t plan all this, how did that knife get in your
dishwasher? And how did his blood get on your blouse? And how did it get in the
laundry room? And why is his car in the river?”

Pursing her lips, Karen’s fingers played with the
fringe on the pillow she’d been hugging. “That I can’t explain. And it’s
driving me crazy.”

“So do we
agree that Ted had to have planned all this?”

“I don’t know.
What if. . .I don’t know, let me ramble here. Let’s say that maybe Ted has been
gambling or something—something he wouldn’t tell me about—and the people were
getting antsy for their money and pressuring him, so he cleaned out the bank
and went to pay them, and they killed him and then planted evidence here to
throw the police off.”

Now Ray was
pursing his lips as his fingers tapped out a beat on the arm of the chair.
“Maybe. But why risk coming back here and running into you?”

“They knew I
wouldn’t be here.”

“How?”

“I don’t
know.” Karen felt the cold fingers of fear and uncertainty crawling up her
spine. “I don’t
know.
I don’t know where my baby is. I don’t know what
happened to Ted. I don’t know why God is doing this to me.”

Ray lifted his
head. “God isn’t doing this to you, Sis. Why would you think He is?”

“Then why is
this happening?”

“Because of
free will.”

“What do you
mean?”

“Free will,
Karen. The only way God could have stopped all this was to prevent Ted from
having a free will. He wouldn’t do that.” Ray seemed to shift gears. “So Ted
tells you he’s going to meet the kidnappers, stages his own death, frames you
for murder, and vanishes with all your money.”

Karen opened
her mouth to object, but Ray threw up a hand. “Regardless of what he did or did
not do, just follow me here.”

“Okay.”

“So Ted had a free will to make his own choices
and he did. And he didn’t care how those choices would affect you. But God does
care. He’s with you in this. He’ll see you through this and bring you out on
the other side.”

“Can I ask a
question?”

“Sure.”

“The police
brought a psychic here to help. My neighbor Rene wouldn’t let them use her. She
said that it’s against God’s Word.”

“Hmm.” Ray
closed his eyes as if to collect his thoughts. “I believe she’s right,” Ray
replied.

“So did God
bring her here or the devil?”

“If the enemy
can get you to participate in something that God has forbidden, he can
effectively cut God out of the situation.”

“Then did God
bring Rene here?”

“I believe He
did. God knew you didn’t know His Word well enough, so He brought in someone
who did to help protect you.”

Karen leaned
back in her chair. “I didn’t realize God worked that closely in our everyday
lives.”

“All the time,
little sister. All the time.”

“Ray, what
will I do if Ted really is dead?” She lifted her tear-filled eyes to his. “Do
you understand what I’m feeling?”

“Not entirely.
But I’m sure it’s not easy to have your life ripped apart at the seams. But
don’t believe the lie that you’re weak. You’re not. Not by a long shot.
Somewhere deep inside you is the strength to face all this. To grieve if you
have to grieve and to let go of what you only
thought
was real.”

“I want my
daughter back safe and sound, Ray.”

He reached
over and took her hand. “I know you do. I’m praying for that to happen. But in
the meantime, you’re going to have to face this. You’ll hit emotional bottom
and that’s where you’ll find Karen waiting for you.”

“I
am
Karen,” she said with a trace of exasperation.

Ray shook his
head. “No. You’re the shadow of who Karen used to be. You’re the creature that
Ted and Dad have molded you into. They’ve pounded you down until you don’t know
who you are anymore. You don’t know your strengths. You don’t know your
capabilities. And you don’t know how to be anything but miserable.”

#

Zoe looked
through the peephole in the door and then unlocked it. She tilted her head and
stared at JJ. “What happened?”

“Got any
coffee?”

Zoe stepped back
and let him in. “Sure.”

In the
kitchen, she poured him coffee, not bothering to announce that it was left from
breakfast. He didn’t seem to notice as he leaned against the counter and drank
it.

“What
happened?” Zoe repeated.

He sighed and
set the cup down. “Emily wasn’t alone.”

“Another
little girl?”

“Yeah.”
Pushing off from the counter, he walked into the living room. “She was buried
right next to Emily. You were right; he’s been at this awhile.”

“I’m sorry.”

JJ shook his
head as he moved around the room, his fingers trailing over shelves, books,
pictures. “Tell me about your father.”

Zoe looked up
at him, confused by his quick change of topic. “My father? What about my
father?”

“I’m just
curious.” JJ shoved his hands in his pockets.

It made her suspicious. She gave him a long,
considering look. “What’s going on, Detective? Why this sudden interest in my
family?”

“Just your
dad. Are you and he close?”

“Not
particularly,” she replied dryly.

“So you don’t
share little secrets together?”

“No.”

“He owns a lot
of real estate, doesn’t he?” He picked up a glass butterfly, examined it, set
it back down.

“I suppose he
does. I think he has four offices.”

“Within what?
Two hundred miles of here?”

“I guess. What
are you doing, Detective?”

“Just asking.
Curious. That’s all.”

“And. . .what
is it you always say—pigs fly with pink wings?”

JJ smiled and
shrugged. “Do I say that a lot?”

“Well, you
tend to change the color from time to time, but yeah, you say that a lot.”

“Where’s your
father, Zoe?” He stared at her.

She returned
the stare, ice for ice. “He took my mother out of town to protect her.”

“Where?”

“Why do you
want to know?”

His eyes narrowed a little. “How did you know
where Emily was?”

“I just knew.”

“Uh-huh, you
just knew. No one clued you in?”

“No.”

“Maybe gave
you a quick call and told you where to find her?”

With cool
deliberation, she stood to her feet. “Why don’t you just come out and ask me
straight, JJ? You want to know if I know the killer?”

The look in
his eyes all but took her breath away. She saw more than questions without
answers. She saw pain curling there, whipping him forward. The glare
intensified. “Do you?”

“No.” Regardless of why JJ was acting like this,
she’d had enough
. “And now I think you’d better go.”

“Does this
bother you?”

“Yes, it does.
You play nice, make me think you trust me, respect me for who and what I am,
and then come in here and accuse me of collaborating with a child killer?” She
pointed at the door. “Get out—now!”

JJ swung the
front door open and then looked back over his shoulder at her. “By any chance,
do you know where your father was when Amy disappeared?”

Zoe felt the
words slam into her, stealing her breath even as her mind fought what she knew
he was implying. She reached out and picked up the nearest thing she could find—a
book—and threw it at him. He ducked and slammed the door closed.

chapter
21

Monday, April 24

C
ollapsing
to the floor, she folded like an accordion, emitting a sound closer to mourning
than music. The pain, buried for so many years, rose like a specter from a
cemetery of memories. It mocked her for thinking she had vanquished it.

“By any chance, do you know where your father was
when Amy dis
appeared?”

JJ’s words
echoed across mists of time and distance. She was, once again, a child in pain,
listening to the police explain that a killer had taken two other little girls,
both from single-parent homes.
“We figure he’s looking for unprotected
targets.”

Understanding
had come to her, quick and crystal clear. She’d flung herself at her father
then, fists flailing, tears streaming.
“Where were you when that bad man
took Amy? Where were you, Daddy? You should have been here!”

The police
officer had gently pulled her back, holding her clenched fists. Her mother had
held her close, offering reassurance that it wasn’t her daddy’s fault. But she
knew better. She looked into her father’s eyes and saw the guilt lodged there.
She saw it in the way his shoulders hunched forward in defeat. He was guilty.
He had failed as a father. And now Amy was dead.

From that day forward, she’d shunned her father,
refusing his attention, putting up a wall of silence, and denying him access to
her heart. She was determined to punish him. As an adult, she could reason that
it had been a tragic incident. That her father wasn’t truly at fault. But her
heart still hadn’t let go of the judgment lodged there as a child.

But this was a
new feeling. Did the police actually believe that her father was capable of. .
.

It was
unthinkable. Despicable. JJ was grasping at straws, looking for something,
anything, that would discredit her. He’d blamed the Matthews for their own
child’s disappearance, and now it seemed he was blaming her father for the
other missing children.

Zoe
Shefford knows where the children are; therefore, she must be getting the
information from the killer. Her own sister was taken; therefore, Zoe’s father
must be the one who killed her.

Zoe wondered if JJ could actually be capable of
that kind of reasoning.

Zoe sat up,
brushing away tears with the heel of her hand. Poor Mrs. Matthews. Her child
had been kidnapped, and before she even had time to deal with her grief, Josiah
Johnson began pointing his finger at her.

And now he was
aiming his missiles of guilt at her father.

Or was he? Zoe
grabbed the doorknob and pulled herself up to her feet. Something just hadn’t
felt right—his accusations didn’t ring true. It was as if he was trying to
convince himself.

Of what? That
she wasn’t a psychic? That she wasn’t worth his attention? Or was it his
affection he was worried about?

#

Paula Horne
hesitated before climbing out of her car and locking it behind her. It had been
nearly a week since she’d heard from Matt.

Squaring her
shoulders, she marched up the steps and through the police station door. Barely
acknowledging a greeting from Sergeant Colmes at the front desk, she jogged up
the metal stairs to the second floor. She wove through the desks in the bullpen
like a copperhead on the hunt.