the twenty-ninth.”
JJ picked up
the envelope and ripped it open. “Is it time for that child to have another
birthday?”
“It’s been a
year, pal.”
“How old is
she this year?”
“Eleven.”
JJ shook his
head as he tossed the birthday invitation onto the desk. “Heavens. . .I’m
getting old.”
Matt tilted
his head, studying JJ carefully. “Nah, not much gray at all.”
JJ glared.
“Funny.”
“I thought
so.”
“Tell me
you-know-who won’t be there.”
“Pete? He
probably will. He usually makes it to all the family events.”
JJ growled low
in his throat then coughed. “I feel the flu coming on.”
Matt laughed.
“He is a pain, isn’t he?”
“I like most
of your family. But your cousin is a jerk.”
Matt threw up
his hands. “I’m not saying a word.”
JJ took a deep
breath and picked up the Matthews file from his desk. He stared at it. “Matt,
get together with Gerry. Tear the Matthews’ lives apart. I want to know
everything from parking tickets to anti-war protests. See if there’s anything I
can hang my gut instinct on.”
#
When Ted
Matthews pulled into the driveway, he was surprised to find himself facing an
army of reporters overrunning his front yard.
“Mr. Matthews! Do you have anything to say to the
kidnapper?”
Ted gripped
his briefcase. “Yes. Return my daughter.”
“Mr. Matthews!
What do you think of the way the police are handling this?”
He stopped at the steps and turned around. “I
think it’s shameful the way they refuse to go look for the kidnapper. They have
no leads, so they place the blame on the easiest targets—my wife and me!”
“Mr. Matthews!
Will you sue the department for mishandling this case?”
“I have no
idea. It depends on whether they get their act together and find the
kidnapper.”
“Mr. Matthews,
do you think your daughter was taken by the same man who took Gina Sarentino?”
“I have no idea. I’m not a detective. I only know
that my daugh ter,” he choked back a sob, “my precious Jessica, has been
taken, and we want her back. This is difficult. . . . It’s pushing my wife to
the edge.” He threw up his hands. “Please excuse me.”
If he thought
he’d find peace in the house, he was wrong. He set down his briefcase just
inside the door. “Karen?”
“In here,” he
heard her call out. He stepped into the kitchen to find her sitting at the
table with another reporter.
The reporter
stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Lorraine Wallace.”
“Ted
Matthews.” He draped his suit coat over a chair, pulled it out, and sat down.
“Why is the press here?” he asked.
“Because I
called them,” she replied, her voice trembling. “A psychic was here today with that
detective. While they’re busy trying to pin this on us, the real kidnapper is
getting away with our daughter. If the police won’t help, we’ll have to find
her ourselves.”
“I just wished
you had discussed this with me, Karen. None of this is good for you. You know
you haven’t been all that strong since Jess was born.”
Karen
swallowed hard, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I’m fine. Really.”
The reporter
turned to Ted. “How are you taking this?”
“I’m numb. I
just can’t believe someone would do this. What kind of world do we live in when
a baby isn’t even safe in her own crib? In her own home?” He sighed heavily and
then looked over at Karen, squeezing her hand in a show of comfort. “We were
just so happy when Jessica was born. She’s the light of our lives.”
The reporter
jotted something down, closed the notebook, turned off her recorder, and rose
to her feet. Tomorrow he would read in some paper that he was numb and that
Jessica was the light of his life.
He sat while
Karen escorted the woman out. He assumed she would return with another reporter
and the scenario would begin again, so he was a little surprised when she
returned alone. She brushed her fingers through his hair and
JJ picked up
the envelope and ripped it open. “Is it time for that child to have another
birthday?”
“It’s been a
year, pal.”
“How old is
she this year?”
“Eleven.”
JJ shook his
head as he tossed the birthday invitation onto the desk. “Heavens. . .I’m
getting old.”
Matt tilted
his head, studying JJ carefully. “Nah, not much gray at all.”
JJ glared.
“Funny.”
“I thought
so.”
“Tell me
you-know-who won’t be there.”
“Pete? He
probably will. He usually makes it to all the family events.”
JJ growled low
in his throat then coughed. “I feel the flu coming on.”
Matt laughed.
“He is a pain, isn’t he?”
“I like most
of your family. But your cousin is a jerk.”
Matt threw up
his hands. “I’m not saying a word.”
JJ took a deep
breath and picked up the Matthews file from his desk. He stared at it. “Matt,
get together with Gerry. Tear the Matthews’ lives apart. I want to know
everything from parking tickets to anti-war protests. See if there’s anything I
can hang my gut instinct on.”
#
When Ted
Matthews pulled into the driveway, he was surprised to find himself facing an
army of reporters overrunning his front yard.
“Mr. Matthews! Do you have anything to say to the
kidnapper?”
Ted gripped
his briefcase. “Yes. Return my daughter.”
“Mr. Matthews!
What do you think of the way the police are handling this?”
He stopped at the steps and turned around. “I
think it’s shameful the way they refuse to go look for the kidnapper. They have
no leads, so they place the blame on the easiest targets—my wife and me!”
“Mr. Matthews!
Will you sue the department for mishandling this case?”
“I have no
idea. It depends on whether they get their act together and find the
kidnapper.”
“Mr. Matthews,
do you think your daughter was taken by the same man who took Gina Sarentino?”
“I have no idea. I’m not a detective. I only know
that my daugh ter,” he choked back a sob, “my precious Jessica, has been
taken, and we want her back. This is difficult. . . . It’s pushing my wife to
the edge.” He threw up his hands. “Please excuse me.”
If he thought
he’d find peace in the house, he was wrong. He set down his briefcase just
inside the door. “Karen?”
“In here,” he
heard her call out. He stepped into the kitchen to find her sitting at the
table with another reporter.
The reporter
stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Lorraine Wallace.”
“Ted
Matthews.” He draped his suit coat over a chair, pulled it out, and sat down.
“Why is the press here?” he asked.
“Because I
called them,” she replied, her voice trembling. “A psychic was here today with that
detective. While they’re busy trying to pin this on us, the real kidnapper is
getting away with our daughter. If the police won’t help, we’ll have to find
her ourselves.”
“I just wished
you had discussed this with me, Karen. None of this is good for you. You know
you haven’t been all that strong since Jess was born.”
Karen
swallowed hard, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “I’m fine. Really.”
The reporter
turned to Ted. “How are you taking this?”
“I’m numb. I
just can’t believe someone would do this. What kind of world do we live in when
a baby isn’t even safe in her own crib? In her own home?” He sighed heavily and
then looked over at Karen, squeezing her hand in a show of comfort. “We were
just so happy when Jessica was born. She’s the light of our lives.”
The reporter
jotted something down, closed the notebook, turned off her recorder, and rose
to her feet. Tomorrow he would read in some paper that he was numb and that
Jessica was the light of his life.
He sat while
Karen escorted the woman out. He assumed she would return with another reporter
and the scenario would begin again, so he was a little surprised when she
returned alone. She brushed her fingers through his hair and
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