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Authors: Carol Tibaldi

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BOOK: Willow Pond
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“There was nothing libelous in that article, just the facts. Do you deny arguing with Phillip Austin only days before the kidnapping?”

“It was a family disagreement, nothing more,” Virginia said. She grabbed her niece's elbow and tugged her toward the exit.

Laura glanced back at Erich as they left. The pleading expression on her face was the only thing that kept him from pursuing them. By the time it occurred to him to wonder how they planned to get home, they were nowhere in sight. He looked up and down the street outside the police station for a few minutes, then grinned. The thought of Virginia Kingsley needing to bum a ride with him was too good.

But her niece ... Now she was something else. Something else entirely.

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

The second ransom letter arrived the following day. Detective Wilson was briefing the press when a young officer received it. Because Wilson was busy, the officer read it first, then passed it to Phillip, meaning Wilson didn't get a chance to see it. Phillip took the letter into his office, sat on the brown leather sofa and read it to himself.

 

Mr Austin:

Bring $250,000 to the entrance of St. Catherine’s School for Girls on Beach Street in Great Neck tomorrow at midnight. Do not try any tricks. Come alone. If you do not follow these instructions, we cannot promise your son’s safety.

 

Phillip drummed his fingers on the desk, contemplating the letter. Two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars was nothing to pay in exchange for Todd’s life. But could he trust the kidnappers? Would they do as they said they would? He gripped the paper hard, trying to keep it from shaking along with his hands. To anyone watching, it might appear to be an angry reaction, but in truth the adrenaline pumping through Phillip was more about anticipation.

Oh, sure. He was angry about Todd. But a thought occurred. What better way to win back Laura's heart than by being the one responsible for the boy's safe return?

He took a sip of Coke and released a long, reflective sigh. He’d played plenty of heroes on the screen. Could he do it in real life? The idea was exciting. And what great publicity! He smiled, imagining the headlines.

He recognized the sound of Wilson's shuffling footsteps approaching his office, indicating the press briefing was over. What an idiot the man was. Even the newspapers were saying he'd bungled the case. His questions were repetitive and unanswerable. And he still hadn't looked into the question of Brian Madigan. Both he and Laura had requested another detective be assigned to their case, but so far nothing had changed.

He didn’t plan on showing Wilson the ransom letter. The detective would want to send someone to the meeting place with Phillip, and that would foul up his plan to become a hero. Just as he was opening his bottom desk drawer to hide the letter, he glanced up and met Wilson’s eyes.

Wilson's arms were in their habitual position, crossed over his chest. “Excuse me, Mr. Austin, but I need a moment of your time. Your wife has tried to help as much as possible, but every time I want to talk to you, you’re busy. If you could make yourself more available we might get somewhere.”

Talking to Wilson was a waste of time. The most important thing for Phillip to do now was go to the bank and put the ransom money together.

Wilson was staring at the envelope in Phillip's hand. He lifted an inquiring eyebrow.

“What if I told you this was personal business?”

“Bullshit, Austin. Right now every time you take a leak it's my business.”

“This is part of a script for a movie I’m supposed to start filming next month. It wouldn’t interest you.”

“Sure it would. Let me have a look at it.”

Phillip coughed and took another drink. “Sorry. There's a confidentiality clause with scripts. Why don’t you go and see if there are any new developments in my son's case?”

“I’m surprised you aren't a better liar, Mr. Austin. Listen, if you want to see your son again, give me the ransom letter.”

Phillip sighed and grudgingly passed him the letter. Wilson's eyes flicked over it and he nodded briefly.

“We’ll send a man with you in an unmarked car.”

Phillip grabbed the piece of paper and stuffed it back into the envelope. “No. You and your cops don't get a part of this. You just want a spotlight. Arrest the kidnapper of Phillip Austin’s son and you’re a big man, right Wilson? The kidnapper told me to come alone and that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Maybe the kidnapper just wants to blow your brains out. Ever think of that? He can’t do it if anyone else is around.”

“Pay attention, Wilson. You're not sending anyone with me. I'm going alone. After we have Todd back you can do whatever you want.”

Wilson pounded his fist on the desk. “By that time this guy could be in China.”

“While you’re there looking for him, you can learn Chinese.”

“Listen, wise guy. I suggest you remember who has experience with criminals like this.” Wilson glared down at him, hands now hooked behind his back. “We could arrest him on the spot.”

Phillip shook his head and fixed a black stare on Wilson. “Maybe so. But if you do that, they’ll kill Todd. I won’t take that chance. I’m going alone.”

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

Brown paper grocery bags crunched against Nancy's chest as she worked the stiff latch of the front door. It swung open and she stepped in, slamming it shut behind her with a shove of her heel. With relief, she set the bags on the table, then called out. No one answered, but she thought she heard a small noise upstairs.

The baby lay on his back in the crib, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Nancy huffed with affection, then reached for the little boy. She held his little body close, thinking furious thoughts. That man, she thought, breathing in the baby's honey curls. Unbelievable that he'd left the little one all alone while he went off to collect his blood money. He probably hadn't fed the baby either, even though she'd asked him to. Just assumed she'd do it, like she did everything else. If she didn't do it, he'd let the poor baby starve to death.

The whole thing made Nancy slightly sick. All he cared about was the money, not the lives he’d torn apart. He'd assured her he'd give the baby back after he got the money, but she didn’t trust him.

He was a miserable bastard. Always had been. Why she married him, she had no idea. The three years they had stayed together had almost driven her insane. He never considered her feelings, never hesitated to beat her or cheat on her. The day she walked out was the smartest thing she’d ever done.

Then he called her with this crazy scheme. He made it sound like she could make some easy money, and since he already owed her so much,

The problem was that she had never expected to feel anything for the child. Instead, she’d fallen in love with him the moment she saw him.

She carried the baby to the bathroom, where she removed his pajamas, changed his diaper, then sponged him off with a cool cloth. All the while she cooed at him, staring into his big green eyes like a suppliant begging for mercy.

Afterwards, she brought him downstairs to the kitchen, talking to him as she went. The kitchen was enormous and badly in need of repair, just like the rest of the house. At one point the pine-walled farmhouse might have been beautiful, but someone had poked holes in the walls in the living room, kitchen, pantry and master bedroom.

When she put the baby in the high chair he fussed.

“Ah,” she said sympathetically. “It’s too small for you, luv. And that old meanie won’t get us a new one.”

Tears welled up in the little boy’s green eyes and she wrestled him out of the high chair. “Don’t need this nasty thing, do we?”

She sat him on her lap, facing her, and felt the rigid little muscles of his body relax. He took the baby bottle she offered and sucked on it, then put it down and stared at her.

“Don’t you like it? Drink your milk and you’ll grow up to be a big strong bloke.”

The child reached toward her.

“Oh, you darling!” she said, then bounced him up and down on her knee. At first he looked startled, but before long he laughed. It was a contagious sound. She laughed with him.

“You’re a right beautiful little bloke,” she cooed. “Yes. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

He gave her a half smile. She leaned over the table and stuck her finger into an open jar of peanut butter. Using her finger as a spoon, she held it to his lips. He ate it quickly, cleaning her finger in no time. When he was done, he stared at her and smacked his lips.

She kissed his soft, round cheek. “Would you like some more?”

She hefted him onto her hip and wandered across the kitchen. From out of the cupboard she pulled a loaf of Wonderbread, then grabbed a knife on her way back to the table. He watched her carefully while she made him half a peanut butter sandwich. She handed it to him and he ate the whole thing, smearing most of it all over his face. When he was done, he smacked his lips again.

“All yummy in the tummy,” she said. The little boy laughed, a deep chuckle that started in his belly and bubbled up. “Mommy’s going to have some, too.” She helped herself to a spoonful of peanut butter. “Mmm. Good.”

“Mommy,” he said.

She put her face close to his. “Yes, Mommy.”

He frowned slightly, then held out his open hands. “More.”

While she made another half sandwich, he picked up his bottle and drank.

Nancy hummed while she spread peanut butter on the bread. “Mr. Grouchy says you won’t eat, but we know he’s wrong, don’t we? He’s just a mean old thing. We don’t want him around.”

After they’d finished their snack, Nancy took him back upstairs. When they got to the landing he sniffled.

“Mommy,” he said, round eyes filling with tears.

“Yes,” she said, grinning. “I’m your mommy now. And I promise I’ll love you just as much as your other mommy did. Maybe more.”

Half an hour later he fell asleep in her arms and she laid him gently in the crib which had become his prison. For a few moments she stood watching him and couldn’t help noticing how restless he was, how he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Once she thought she saw a tear hanging on his eyelash, then looked closer and decided it was her imagination.

By now Phillip Austin would have paid the ransom. Rudy would be on his way home. It chilled her to the bone when she thought of what he might do to Todd after he walked in the door. More than once she had seen him look at the baby with dislike. But the baby was hers now. She wouldn’t let anything happened to him.

She needed to get Todd away from Rudy, but she didn’t have much time. If she didn’t leave, God knows what Rudy might do to them. She had been the victim of his violent outbursts more than once, and she couldn’t let them happen to Todd. She didn’t have much money and had no idea what she was going to do, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She didn’t want the blood money either, though it sure would come in handy.

A car went by and her heart pounded. She watched, relieved to see it wasn’t Rudy. He would be there soon. She grabbed the suitcase she had brought with her and threw the few things they had for the baby inside, followed by a change of clothes for herself. Everything else she had brought for herself would have to stay behind. She needed room for the baby’s things. When the suitcase was latched, she filled two bottles with the remaining from the icebox.

She went back upstairs to the baby’s room. He was sleeping, his little rear end up in the air. He seemed so peaceful she hated to wake him up. When she lifted him, he opened his eyes, gazed sleepily at her, then went right back to sleep.

Even though it was over seventy degrees outside, she wrapped him in two blankets, then put a hat on him to cover his curls. The hat was too big for him and he looked silly, but she couldn’t chance anyone recognizing him. That wouldn’t be too difficult, since his picture had been on the front page of every newspaper over the last few days.

With the suitcase in one hand and the baby in her other arm, she walked to the nearest bus stop. The bus squealed to a stop by her and she climbed onboard, not knowing where she was going. All she knew was she had to get the baby as far away from Rudy as she could.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

At 8:30 the next morning, Virginia returned from a walk in Central Park. She picked up the newspaper from her front step and stared at the headline with disbelief.

Austin Ransom Payoff Botched.

What could have gone wrong? She clutched it under her arm as she opened the door of the brownstone, then settled in with her coffee, immersing herself in the article. Phillip had gone alone to meet the kidnapper. Amazing. The grandstander had actually stood up for his son. Her first thought was that for once Phillip had used his brain. Then she read on and discovered all he had gotten for both his money and his show of spirit was a bump on the head. She chuckled. That sounded more like the Phillip she knew. She blew on her coffee, smiling. The cops would be livid.

But something else concerned her. Phillip had brought the money, as he had been asked, but Todd had not been returned. Did the kidnappers intend to string them along forever?

The thought made her ache for her niece. Laura must be devastated. She’d expected to have her baby back in her arms today. Virginia dialed Willow Pond, but the line was busy. She tried again five minutes later, and it was still busy.

How would they ever find Todd now? According to the article, the kidnapper who had met with Phillip had worn the same clown’s mask he’d worn in the initial kidnapping. Phillip was able to describe a few things, however, as vague as they might be. He said the police should be looking for a guy in his early thirties, about six feet tall, with a medium build and an olive complexion. Virginia rolled her eyes. That described half the men she knew.

She dialed her assistant’s number. Dependable Harry picked up the phone right away. “I heard all about it,” he said. “Call me if you need me. I'm fine to look after everything for now.”

BOOK: Willow Pond
13.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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