Taken

  He was aware she hadn’t slept much—had heard her up in the night, another movie on low volume, heard her officially begin her day just after five a.m. He’d chosen to give her space rather than check on her. Just after seven o’clock he wandered into the kitchen to get himself coffee. She’d made a batch of oatmeal cookies; they were cooling on the kitchen counter. He had one with his coffee and hoped baking was one of her preferred ways to deal with stress. The woman made excellent cookies.

  There was a piece of paper on the kitchen counter, and her neat printing read:

  PRESS RELEASE

  Jeffery Bliss, along with the entire Bliss family, is pleased to announce the safe return of Shannon Bliss.

  My sister made contact with a retired member of law enforcement and returned to Chicago on the night of June the fourteenth. She is in good health and good spirits. I am grateful to all those who have helped in the search to bring her home over the last eleven years.

  She is working with the FBI and Chicago police to bring those responsible for her abduction to justice. Due to the complexity and size of the organization that abducted Shannon and several other individuals, it will likely be several months before further information is made public on this matter. The authorities will release information regarding her case when it is appropriate.

  Shannon is now recovering at a secure out-of-state location. She has chosen not to speak with the public until after the election, and I will respect her wishes. All inquiries to me and to the Bliss family will be directed back to this press statement. Thank you.

  Matthew found Shannon curled up on the couch in the living room, watching one of the morning newscasts. He paused to catch the weather forecast before he mentioned, “It’s a good press release.”

  Shannon leaned her head back to see him. “Thanks. When the news gets into the public domain, I’d like Jeffery to release that, or something like it. I’ve decided I want my brother to stay quiet while some of this is being worked out. He can tell my parents, his wife, but leave it at that, insist they tell no one else. Two weeks from now, maybe three, he can make the news public if it hasn’t leaked before then.”

  Matthew perched on the arm of the couch, drank his coffee, considered the plan. “That will be helpful to all concerned. Jeffery will have time to get his own thoughts in order, your parents will be past the shock, cops will have made more progress with what you’ve provided to them, and it will give you further time to settle. Have you heard from your friend? I heard a phone ring while I was shaving.”

  “The call was an automated callback activating a very accurate GPS app on the phone you gave me. We’re going to need it.”

  Her list must now include recovering more stolen items from hard-to-find locations, and he was more than willing to help her out in that endeavor. “I told Ann we’d be at their place around six thirty, so we’ll leave here at quarter after. John will drive us so we don’t have to sort out parking.”

  “Tell me when it’s five o’clock. I’m going to try and ignore ‘The Meeting’ until then.” She made air quotes as she said it, offered a smile.

  Matthew smiled back. “I can do that for you.”

  “John’s the one who arranged for us to stay here?”

  “John Key. He’s a friend of Ann’s. I put his contact information in your phone. He does private security work in the Chicago area, is a silent partner with Chapel Security. I’ll introduce you to John tonight, and at the cookout tomorrow you’ll meet John’s fiancée, Ellie Dance. If you choose to stay in Chicago, they are people you’ll find helpful to know.”

  He got to his feet. “Would you like to spend the day being a tourist and wander around some of Chicago? A baseball hat, sunglasses, there would be little risk of your being recognized.”

  “I was thinking more a good book, and I’d make lasagna for a late lunch.”

  “Works for me.” He hesitated. “There’s a book Ann sent over, written by a reporter about a kidnapping case here in Chicago years ago. The woman at the center of it, Ruth Bazoni, is going to be at the cookout tomorrow. You’ll have to start collecting new friends by some criteria, and I can pretty much guarantee she’s not going to be asking you questions or be unduly curious about what happened. But she will understand a bit of the history. Hers lasted four years and three ransoms, and it got . . . bad. You’re going to have a lot in common without having to say a word. She’s married now, according to Ann. She’d be the kind of comfortable friend you might enjoy having.”

  “Let me have the book.”

  Matthew nodded. “I’ve got more reading to do of my own. And I’m thinking maybe a nap. Short night.”

  She smiled. “I wondered when you would begin to wilt under the weight of being my sole watchdog—for want of a better description.”

  “I’d prefer friend,” he said carefully with a little shrug and smile.

  “You’re becoming that, Matthew, or I wouldn’t still be here.”

  “Good.” He got her the book, then settled in the office to spend more time reading the case file. In twenty-four hours this was going to be a different reality. Her brother’s reaction, her parents’, would have significant impact on how Shannon coped going forward, and there was very little he could do to influence that except be there for her afterwards.

  While reviewing his notes, Matthew came across a list he had begun on a page halfway into his yellow legal pad. He started to pass it by but forced himself to stop. Maybe it would be out of place and wouldn’t do what he had hoped, but there was nothing wrong with the list itself. He added another item to it, then pulled the page free, folded it, slid it into an envelope and wrote Shannon’s name on it. He dropped it on the bed in her guest room. He felt a bit like an idiot, but he didn’t go back for the list. Over time Shannon was going to come to associate him with hard topics, emotionally draining events, difficult discussions. He needed to put something on the other side of the ledger, something light in this relationship. And the list was the only idea he’d come up with that might add that other tone.

  I like to play Scrabble. Just saying.

  I like it when Becky calls me to talk rather than just sending me a text.

  I’m glad you still like God.

  I see a strength in you I admire.

  I’m also glad you are willing to cry; please don’t hide the tears.

  We agree on monster movies.

  I like the fact you still swim.

  You make good oatmeal cookies. How’s your chocolate chip?

  10

  The clock by the door indicated ten minutes after six. Matthew checked to make sure he had enough cash for an emergency, that his phone didn’t need a fully charged battery swapped in, located the notes he’d made about Jeffery, and slid the page into his pocket.

  “I’m ready to go.”

  He turned as Shannon joined him. She looked lovely in pink. Young and beautiful . . . innocent, as though tragedy had never touched her. Matthew smiled in appreciation. He leaned over to a side table and retrieved a gift he’d bought that afternoon and hidden in the refrigerator across the hall. He offered her the sheaf of pink roses wrapped in cellophane. “I thought these might color-coordinate.”

  She buried her face in the blooms. “They’re . . . very nice.” She had choked up and was having a hard time speaking.

  He’d hoped they would be balm to a wounded heart and didn’t mind the tears she was blinking back. She was lovely, and if it wasn’t a date, it was still a night for dressing up. He was determined to fill in the good experiences she had missed out on over the years in any ways he could.

  He reached out and lightly brushed her arm. “Bring your roses along—Ann will have a vase. Let’s go surprise and dazzle your brother with your smile, and that dress with its matching shoes.”

  She peeked over her roses. “I didn’t find low heels.”

  “I’m noticing,” he replied dryly. Vanity over practicality, he thought, and couldn’t disapprove. He’d just have to make sure they
didn’t have to slip away from some sharp reporter tagging behind her brother—she sure wouldn’t be hurrying anyplace fast in those shoes. The woman was all legs and athletic form, and the too-high heels only accentuated her attractiveness.

  He wisely said nothing more as he held the door for her. Even the nail polish at the end of the open-toe shoes matched. In about five years, some guy was going to ask her on a date and get himself bowled over when Shannon appeared. Matthew was feeling just the edge of that power tonight. She did make an impact on a man, he thought. It was something he was actually grateful to see—she wasn’t downplaying her looks.

  She had come through what happened with a natural self-confidence still intact. That poise would matter in the year ahead. People would make a first impression and think either survivor or victim. Shannon needed to feel comfortable with being beautiful. She appeared to be tonight. And he was truly enjoying the image.

  Matthew thought the Falcon home conveyed a nice mix of style and comfort. The fourth floor of an old brick warehouse from the turn of the century had been custom-remodeled, and it was spacious and quiet—perfect for the meeting this evening. He handed Shannon a glass of iced tea. “John will call ahead. You’ll have some warning before Jeffery appears. Try to relax.” He could see the nerves shimmering in her.

  “I’m trying.” She wandered around the living room, paused briefly to look at a painting. Arrangements had been made for John to drive her brother over from the hotel where he was speaking. On the return drive to Jeffery’s home, Paul would join Jeffery to debrief this meeting.

  “Try harder,” he said mildly. “Your brother is going to be happy to see you.”

  “I’m just . . . I’m ready to have this over.” She settled on the couch and picked up a magazine.

  Ann and Paul had left to visit friends shortly after their arrival. Ann had told Shannon with a laugh that their friend’s young daughter was in love with Black and hoped for a dog of her own soon, so he was going with them. That remark had broken the ice, for it was clear watching Shannon meet Black that she was comfortable with dogs. Matthew thought Shannon would benefit from a pet as soon as she was settled somewhere—there was comfort in having a dog’s company to enjoy. Shannon had been reserved with Ann and Paul but not particularly wary. She’d offered a cautious smile, as well as a genuine thanks for allowing the use of their home. Matthew thought if the first moments with her brother went as smoothly, this evening would be fine.

  His phone rang five minutes later. Shannon was turning pages in another magazine and her hand stilled on the page as he answered. “Yes, John.” She set aside the magazine. “We’re ready.” He pocketed the phone, offered her a reassuring smile. “You’re going to be fine. They’re in the lobby.”

  “Stay with me, please,” she asked as the elevator came up. “I need you to remember the details of what he says, so I can clarify what I heard with you later.”

  “Sure.”

  They heard the two men arrive. Shannon stood and nervously clasped her hands behind her. Matthew stopped beside her, touched a hand lightly to her back. “Breathe,” he teased in a whisper and got a smile from her.

  “This way, sir.” John preceded her brother into the room and then simply moved to one side.

  Matthew had seen photos of Jeffery Bliss, had watched him on video at press conferences talking about his sister, knew he was thirty-seven, a confident man who had weathered a great deal in the years Shannon had been missing. But he watched the man pale and nearly slip into shock before a joy so intense it filled the room appeared on his face. “Shannon?”

  “Hello, Jeffery.”

  He didn’t ask her a single thing. He just crossed the room, wrapped her tightly in his arms, and held on like he’d never let go. “Shannon, I can’t believe it. Welcome home,” he finally managed, his voice breaking.

  Matthew saw Shannon’s eyes close as they filled with tears, and he stepped over and joined John to give them a moment of privacy.

  Matthew leaned against the east wall in the living room, watching Shannon and Jeffery on the couch. They were half turned to face each other, not sitting close but still near enough to converse easily and reach out a hand. Matthew listened to the conversation, but mostly read the body language. Both looked more comfortable as time passed. Shannon’s tension had eased considerably, and her hands were open now and in motion. He’d just heard her first laugh. Jeffery was past the disbelief and had moved solidly into joy, his attention so focused on his sister that Matthew doubted he was even aware of his surroundings. The evening was going both as Matthew had hoped and expected . . . and oddly not.

  “I married Cindy Mae. Remember her? I met her in high school, brought her home when we started dating.”

  “I remember she paid attention to me, even though I was so much younger. I really liked her.”

  Jeffery grinned. “So do I. You’re an aunt now. We have a daughter. She’s two years old. We named her Ashley Heather after both our grandmothers.”

  He was pulling out pictures from his wallet, and Shannon looked at each of them, delighted. “She’s beautiful.”

  “She’s got a sweet personality, along with this gracious, almost regal smile. Keep those photos. There’s more where they came from. Here’s one of Cindy Mae from our wedding.” He held it out.

  “I’m sorry I missed that day. She looks . . . in love.”

  Jeffery laughed. “She has to be to put up with me.” He slid the photo back in his wallet, and his expression turned more serious. “Mom and Dad are divorced now. I’ll tell you more about that another time. They’re still involved with the family business. Dad’s an advisor to the board, and Mom with the charity fund. They love their granddaughter. Their health is still pretty good, though Mom’s getting forgetful. Dad’s still wishing he was the boss and had the energy to run the world.”

  “That’s good to know,” Shannon said, and Matthew noted she didn’t follow that topic further. “You’re liking being a dad.”

  Jeffery smiled. “I love it. I travel the state, so I don’t always get to read the bedtime story or be there for breakfast as often as I’d like, but I do have daddy duties—she especially loves riding on my shoulders when we walk the neighborhood. Cindy and I bought a big house that we’ve been fixing up, slowly but surely. We want a large family, and it’s been nice to put down some roots in a neighborhood where we hope to live for the next thirty years. I’d love for you to come and stay for a while, move in with us if you like. There’s a wing of the house already prepared for family who come to visit. You could claim baby-sitting privileges if you want an excuse to have Ashley to yourself for an evening.”

  Shannon laughed, yet she slid past his offer with a noncommittal “I’m comfortable where I am for now. How did you end up in politics, now running for governor? I hear you’re likely to win. Good for you!”

  “I got accustomed to dealing with groups of people during the search to find you,” Jeffery explained, “and over time I became very aware of how difficult it can be to solve problems without good leadership. It’s been an unexpected career, being in public service in a range of elected positions. Governor is a big step up for me, but the right next one.”

  Matthew suddenly realized what was off-kilter about this reunion. Jeffery wasn’t asking her any questions. Matthew didn’t know if her brother was simply being extra sensitive, if he didn’t know what to safely ask, or was so overwhelmed he couldn’t get his thoughts together. Shannon had been braced for Jeffery’s questions, and they weren’t coming. Matthew listened as Shannon asked about some of her friends, relatives in their family, and he finally stepped in. “Why no questions, Jeffery?”

  Her brother looked over at him, then back at Shannon. “I don’t care what the answers are,” he replied. “Shannon is here. The rest is details.”

  “You really mean that,” Shannon whispered.

  “I’ve had only one prayer, that God would bring you back to your family, that I would have a sister again. I jus
t got my prayer answered.”

  Shannon wiped her eyes. “I’ve missed you so much, Jeffery.”

  “I’ve missed you just as much,” he said, his voice husky. “The details matter to me, Shannon, and the lack of questions isn’t a lack of interest. But it’s a matter of perspective. I have what I longed for—you back in my life.”

  “I don’t think I can stay in Chicago. I’m not ready for that yet.”

  Jeffery simply nodded. “What can I do for you? What do you need from me? I’ll gladly provide whatever you desire.”

  “For now, I just wanted to see you.” Shannon leaned back against the cushions of the couch, studying her brother. “I expected . . . I don’t know. For you to want to be calling families and friends, for you to be asking me questions about what happened. . . .”

  He shook his head. “You arranged to meet with only me, and to do so in a place neutral to both of us. It’s not that hard for me to figure out why that might be. I don’t mind at all that you want to unfold what happens next based on what you need, Shannon. Many years from now you’ll have told me most of the things I’m wondering about at the moment. I don’t need the answers tonight. And based on the two I’ve met here, asking if you need practical help, a place to stay, security, would be pointless. I think you have two good men willing to help you in any way you’re willing to let them. I’m in that same camp. Whatever you need me to do, want me to do, the answer will be yes.”

  “It’s going to mess with your campaign . . . my return.”

  He shrugged. “Let it.”

  “The details aren’t going to be pretty.”

  “Given we’re meeting at the Falcons’ home, I assume Paul Falcon is in the circle of people you’re talking with about those details.”

  “I tell Matthew, he tells Paul. The information gets where it’s needed.”

  He nodded and reached out a hand to her. “I’m your brother, Shannon. The one who has loved you since you were in diapers. If you want me standing between you and law enforcement, I make a great brick wall. If you want me to be the guy you come hang out with for hamburgers on the grill and some teasing about how smartly dressed you look—you look lovely tonight, by the way—I’m that guy too. You can pretty much expect I’d like to talk to you every day for the rest of your life. What you want our relationship to be beyond that, what role you want me to play in your life, is up to you. I want everything you’re comfortable with, and I can be patient as that sorts itself out.”