Taken

  “Are you going to tell Shannon when you know?”

  “When she asks, yes. And she’ll tell you if she wants you to know.”

  “Might be rather awkward shaking hands with the guy, not knowing he’s my sister’s father.”

  “Nothing about this situation is particularly comfortable. Do you remember much about how things were between your mom and dad going into that Memorial Day weekend?”

  “I thought Mom was going to leave my father,” Jeffery replied, obviously choosing to offer an equal level of candor. “It had been a worry in the back of my mind for a couple of years. I remember that Mom had made a point of encouraging Shannon to spend the weekend with friends, confirmed with me a few times that I too had plans and would be away for the long weekend. She wanted to talk with Dad in private. Shannon probably hadn’t picked up on those vibes, but I remember wondering if she was finally going to tell him she was leaving.”

  “She would have been okay with a divorce?”

  “On her terms, yeah, Mom would have walked away. We were drifting as a family. Mom wasn’t happy. It was clear even back then that they were married because they had children, not because they were close. Knowing now that Shannon wasn’t his daughter, I believe Mom was simply waiting until Shannon had her driver’s license, had some independence, before she announced she was done with the marriage.”

  “Do you think she would have gone to be with Shannon’s father?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeffery said. “What I do know is that Mom had been doing more than just a spring cleaning of the house—she had organized her world, had begun to talk about her own dreams and ideas for her future. Sometimes it would be couched in phrases like ‘after you kids are grown,’ and other times it would be ‘I think I’ll enjoy trying this over the summer.’ I gradually realized Dad wasn’t very prominent in her plans.”

  “So the divorce didn’t surprise you when it came.”

  Jeffery shook his head. “No.”

  “Do you know if your parents had that conversation the weekend Shannon went missing?”

  “I expect they did. But when I got home, the search for Shannon had begun. Calls to her friends. They asked me to drive the route she would have taken home in case she’d had car trouble. Whatever they talked about wasn’t in the picture once it was known Shannon was missing.”

  “Were Shannon and your mom close?”

  “Like two peas in a pod. Mom used to ask Shannon for fashion advice—and actually take it. She was dreaming of Shannon’s future: a lavish wedding, a home in the area, a good husband. Mom had life for Shannon all mapped out. Not a bad dream, really, just one that seemed more Mom’s desire to redo her own life. She hoped Shannon would meet her ideal guy while she was still in high school. My sister was popular—she probably would have found him if she wanted to dream that direction. But she was mostly talking about college options and becoming a chemist or maybe a pharmacist.”

  “Really?”

  “She was taking chemistry that year and loved it.”

  Matthew tucked that away to think about later. “Are your parents coming over for dinner?”

  “Dad said he’d pick Mom up—a first since the divorce—and that they’d be here at five. You might want to plan a call, need to leave with Shannon around quarter to six. I think less is more for all of them right now.”

  “I’d agree with that.” Matthew shifted the subject to one he’d been pondering for several hours. “Shannon’s told you she’s considering coming forward at the press conference tomorrow?”

  Jeffery grimaced. “Yeah, and I’ll do my best to talk her out of it. One crisis in her life at a time.”

  Matthew drank more of his iced tea, didn’t respond.

  “What? You think it’s a good idea?”

  “It’s growing on me,” Matthew replied, gazing at her across the yard. “She’s trying to wrestle back control of her life. Standing up to the press and saying ‘I’m back’ is her version of a preemptive offense. She then stays with ‘No comment’ until after the election. Police briefings and reporters putting together leads will wear out most of the story before she speaks about it this fall. In the meantime, people she’s meeting with can get over the shock of knowing who she is. She can acknowledge the truth of her identity, but then say she can’t talk about it until the investigation’s complete, and the rest of their conversation will become more normal.”

  Jeffery gave him a long look. “You’re giving me the pretty version of how this plays out. There’s another not-so-pretty way. The press photographing her every step, stalking her, interviewing anyone she ever speaks with to see what she says.”

  Matthew could see that outcome too. “I think she wants to take the risk it doesn’t go that far. If it does, she goes into hiding—which is basically what she’s doing now—only with a bunch of reporters playing hide-and-seek.”

  “You think it’s worth the gamble?”

  “At your press conference tomorrow, she’s there to give the press their photos. Then, over the Fourth of July weekend, you talk about how nice it is to have your sister home. The following weekend you and Cindy can host a gathering for friends and family and neighbors who want to stop by, so that Shannon can meet people in your personal circle. She announces which reporter she will sit down with for an interview after the election. The worst is over in a couple of weeks. You avoid the charge you’re using the publicity of her return to benefit your own political chances, as well as any charge you hid something from the public.”

  Jeffery thought about it. “I don’t know, Matthew. If we stay with the plan that I announce her return and state she’s not in Illinois, the press can follow me but they can’t get to her for the rest of the summer. She needs those months without any added stress. This puts her immediately into the thick of things without a break.”

  Matthew understood his concern, yet he also saw Shannon’s point of view. “If we wait, going public is something else to have to deal with in her future. She wants to get the problem over with, not have it hanging over her.”

  “You think she’d be okay?”

  “If George is arrested tonight, Shannon wants to do this. I’m inclined to say okay, try to move aside any obstacles rather than try to talk her out of it. It’s a big decision, and I believe she’s made it. So I say we stand with her and let her do it.”

  Jeffery took a while to respond. “If we go this route, I need to make around, oh, thirty calls tonight to get people organized. Everything from security for Mom and Dad, so reporters aren’t ringing their doorbells every few minutes, to some additional security for Ashley at day care. Reporters will interview even a two-year-old if given the opportunity.”

  “If you think of the relief you’ll feel when you’re past all this, the idea’s not so bad,” Matthew commented.

  Jeffery smiled. “You’re talking me into it. There are family members I was going to call before the press conference—Mom’s got a sister out in Colorado, who will want to travel back to see Shannon, and there are cousins in Texas. I’ll start making those calls tonight. We do this, Matthew, you’ll be able to keep her safe?”

  “John’s convinced me he can get Shannon out of the building where the press conference is being held and back to the apartment without the press trailing us. Since he’s done a lot of this kind of thing, I’ll take his word for it. It’s already arranged for Shannon and Rachel to go up to Shadow Lake for the following weekend. Shannon will be fine; no one will be able to locate her there. You and Cindy, your parents, aren’t going to be so tucked away, but it’s not going to last more than a few weeks.”

  “I’ll talk to Cindy tonight, let her know. When will you know about this George guy?”

  “By ten tonight is my guess.”

  Jeffery nodded. “We announce her return two weeks after she’s reappeared. I suppose there’s a symmetry to the way it’s playing out. The election is certainly going to decrease in importance. To be fair, I should call my opponents about an hour
before the press conference, so they hear this from me before it’s on the airwaves.”

  “Make it half an hour. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but I want Shannon in the building first, not on the way.”

  Jeffery chuckled. “Deal.”

  Matthew crouched down beside the patio chair, where Shannon was sitting between her parents, sharing coffee with them. “Shannon, we need to go,” he said quietly. She turned to look at him. He added before she could ask, “It’s early, and there isn’t news yet. But if you plan to attend the press conference tomorrow, there are some logistics to deal with still this evening.”

  She nodded, excused herself from her parents with warm hugs for each, gathered up her camera and canvas bag. She went over to say goodbye to Ashley, thanked Jeffery and Cindy for the evening.

  “Their backyard neighbor has realized who I am,” she told him as they walked to the car, “either on his own, or maybe Ashley said my name this morning when she took over her new favorite picture book to show him. He didn’t come over, but he gave me a smile and a little wave as he was watering his roses.”

  “We knew this was likely, one way or another. In a day the news goes public. He’ll be able to say he knew a day before everyone else.”

  “What kind of arrangements for tomorrow?” she asked as he backed out of the driveway.

  “John has some instructions to go over with you. And Paul called.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “They arrested six people in New Mexico without incident about an hour ago.” He pulled out his phone, offered it to her so she could read the names.

  He glanced over. She’d gone very still. Stress had rolled back in on her. “How’d it feel being around your parents today?” he asked to pull her out of the memory.

  She handed him back his phone. “Okay. It’s hard for me to get over how much they have changed in eleven years, especially my mother. On the whole it’s easier to talk with Dad than Mom. She seems . . . more worried about what this has done to our relationship than when we first saw each other. She didn’t comment on my dress, my hairstyle, the makeup. In the past I would have expected something personal. She asked about you, what I thought about Jeffery and Cindy, how I liked being an aunt. On the bright side, my parents do seem cordial with each other.”

  Matthew was pleased she was saying “my parents” without any hesitation. “I’m glad it’s not turning out to be as awkward as you had feared.”

  “We’ll get through this.” She looked over at him. “Do you know who my real father is?”

  He glanced at her, then back at the road. “Are you ready to hear that?”

  “Dad sat there at the table knowing the answer, and Mom of course knows. I didn’t. It felt like an elephant was sitting there with us.”

  “We’ve narrowed it down to a likely name. I might have something confirmed to tell you later tomorrow.”

  “Tell me, please, when you know. I want all these shocks to be over as soon as possible. I want the truth about my birth father. I want the cops to make the arrests, get the evidence sorted out. I want the press to know who I am, for them to get beyond their interest in me.”

  Matthew reached over for her hand. “Crashing through walls works so long as you don’t break something in the process.”

  “I know it’s not logical and it sounds nearly manic, this all-out push forward, but I feel such an incredible internal pressure now to get this done, whatever the price. Let the chips fall. Let me deal with it. It’s got to be less stressful than this daily drip-drip of something else landing on me.”

  He could see the struggle in her expression, but he also saw signs of something really positive happening. Her emotions were unlocking and she was feeling again, when in the past she’d had everything so tightly controlled she turned numb. He would have to help her gauge where the guardrails were so she didn’t end up in a downward spiral during the process, though that was a minor concern. She was alive again.

  “We’ll let matters play out,” he agreed, “but you’ll take advice from the people who care about you—Jeffery, John, me? Let us buffer those shocks so that you get through them in an orderly fashion.”

  She nodded. “Can you just get me to the end of this?” Her voice had turned almost to pleading. “That’s what I want. That’s what I need.”

  He tightened his hand on hers. “I’ll get you there, Shannon.”

  She’d gone from the tight control of a survivor, thinking once she got to freedom, the most intense moments would be over, to the reality that freedom only brought more layers of those moving pieces—law enforcement and family, along with decisions to make on her own future. He was hearing her need to be through this for what it was—the deep desire to have her world stop rocking and simply be the same from one day to the next. A few more hard days, and then he could get her to that place where the world stopped shifting on her.

  31

  His phone rang just after nine p.m. “Yes, Paul.” Matthew moved his arm from around Shannon and got up from the couch, walked into the office. She muted the television when he returned.

  “They arrested George Jacoby,” he told her. “Two cops were slightly hurt, and there was some damage to the motel room. But otherwise all went smoothly. Flynn had set himself up in the café across the street. He made a call, got George distracted for an instant so the cops could get in and surround him. Flynn’s on his way to Chicago. They’ll keep George in Alabama for now.”

  “How many years in jail is Flynn facing?”

  Matthew shook his head. “That’s yet to be determined, but the conversations starting tonight will influence that decision. Paul said to pass the word that Flynn seemed in good spirits, was mostly relieved this was concluding. Another week or so, Paul will see about arranging a conversation for you with Flynn, if you’d like that.”

  “His birthday is at the end of July. I’d like to take him a cupcake or something.”

  “That would be a nice gesture.” Matthew thought about how to end the day, walked over and took a seat beside Shannon on the couch.

  “You’re still looking pensive,” she said, watching him warily.

  “I need to tell you something about your mom before the press conference tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “Something hard to hear.”

  “It’s going to be easier to hear than all this buildup.”

  Matthew was careful to keep his voice level as he said, “Flynn told me your mom was behind your abduction. He provided an envelope that he said held proof of it.”

  Her eyes went glassy.

  He took her hand, squeezed it. “Take a breath,” he said firmly, and waited until she’d done so. “Another one, please.”

  Her face was a mask, wiped of all expression. “Why did you tell me?” she whispered.

  “The final shocks are coming, and this is the biggest one. I’m going to ask Jeffery to arrange for someone who has medical training to be with her . . . in case she can’t absorb another wave of guilt.”

  “Oh. Oh, Matthew, I can’t . . . I don’t . . .”

  He eased her over against his shoulder. “That’s better,” he murmured. “When I get back to Boston, I think I should burn that envelope.”

  Her tears drenched his shirt.

  It took a long time before she spoke again. “Tell me what you know.”

  “Jeffery has been calling your family to alert them to what’s coming at the press conference in the morning. Your mom’s sister lives in Colorado, not that far from the address you gave me for Sanford Bliss. Now that she knows about your return, I called her. I asked your aunt some rather direct questions about what was happening eleven years ago.

  “I found out your mother was talking about going out to Colorado to live. She wanted you to go to the high school for gifted students that’s nearby. Her sister didn’t have room at her condo, but Sanford had said the two of you could come stay with him. It was all very tentative, and your aunt was trying to talk your mo
m out of the idea. But she seemed determined.

  “It sounds like your mother was going to talk with your father that weekend about ending the marriage, and she worried that the truth of the affair and that you aren’t his daughter would come out. She wanted you to be with your friends, and Jeffery being away that weekend would avoid either of you overhearing any confrontation.

  “I believe your mom talked not only to your aunt but also to your uncle about her plans,” Matthew continued, focusing on how he thought this had gone wrong. “But your uncle saw the coming divorce as inevitably exposing what he’d been doing with company funds. He panicked. I think the truth is your uncle was behind what happened to you. He wanted your parents to both realize how much they loved you and that they needed to stay together for your sake. Failing that, he’d use the ransom money to cover up his theft of company funds.

  “I believe your uncle arranged for you to be taken out to Sanford’s place, trusting that Sanford would get you safely back home. Only it turned out that what was to be a three-day abduction, ransom, and you’re back home, turned into a tragedy. Sanford was innocent in this, and your mother’s only part was to speak to someone she trusted before she took the steps to leave her marriage.”

  Shannon’s hand tightened on his. “You think your original idea of what happened is the right one. You’re back to thinking my uncle was behind it all.”

  “Your mother loves you. I cannot put together under any scenario your mom arranging to send you out to Sanford with strangers. That simply doesn’t fit with your mother then or now, Shannon. Whatever Flynn has, it’s evidence that comes from what the smuggling family was told about you, the photo they had, the place to drop you off. Flynn gave me the lawyer’s name who made the arrangements. I think I could prove it was your uncle and not your mother who was using that lawyer to arrange what happened, that it was your uncle at the heart of it.” He stopped and gently turned her face toward his. “But I’d rather not even try. I’d rather trust what I see.