Shelter
Chapter 4
By: Mariel
27 HOURS MISSING 11:30 a.m.
Two hours after leaving Nancy Shelby's office, they were standing in front of a small, comfortable looking home in one of the out-skirting suburbs of the city. Looking at the small side yard, which held a swing set and a sandbox, Samantha commented, "Looks like a good place for kids." The contrast between this small, neatly landscaped yard on its quiet, tree- lined street and the garbage-strewn dirt patch Emma played on outside her building was depressing. Samantha pictured the little girl happily running across the lawn towards the swing, and felt a wave of sadness wash over her.
They walked to the front door and, seeing no doorbell, Jack rapped his knuckles on the blue-painted surface. A moment of waiting, and they heard someone call, "I'll be right there!" Another moment, and the door was opened by a smiling, long-haired woman of about thirty-two. Shorter than either agent, she brushed her straight, dark hair back over her shoulders and looked up at them with surprised brown eyes. Stepping back slightly, she said, "Why, hello. May I help you?"
"Are you Diana Ramsey?" Jack asked. When the woman indicated that she was, he identified himself and Samantha. At the mention of 'FBI', Diana looked both curious and relieved. Relief wasn't the reaction they were used to getting when they identified themselves, and it must have shown, because Diana immediately began to explain herself: "I was expecting you to pull out a pamphlet and start discussing the state of my soul." She looked from one trench-coated agent to the other, then hastened to add, "No offence. I mean, I have a lot of appreciation for faith so strong that you're willing to put up with going door to door to spread The Word, but I'm trying to get some things done, and-"
Jack put out his hand quickly. "That's okay," he assured her. "No offence taken. We're wondering if we could come in and talk to you about a little girl you've had in your care - Emma Matthews."
Diana Ramsey stopped talking and her expression changed to one of happy recognition and hope. "Emma? Of course! Come in. Does this mean that things have changed? That the mother might consider adoption?"
Jack and Samantha shared a glance. Either the woman was a very good actress, or she had no idea that Emma was missing.
Moving into the house, Samantha noted packing boxes along the hallway walls. "You're moving?" she asked.
Diana nodded. "Yes. My husband got a transfer." She looked concerned. "Would that affect the adoption?"
Samantha shook her head. Rather than point out that the FBI didn't get involved in adoptions, she simply said, "I'm sorry. We're not here about that - we're here because Emma has disappeared."
Diana stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"
Jack indicated the door leading to what he could see was the living room. "Why don't we have a seat? We'll explain everything we can."
"Oh, of course," the woman said. Walking into the living room, she quickly crossed the floor and removed a pile of cardboard boxes from a love seat set in front of the window. Putting them on the floor, she indicated that they should sit in the newly made space. Sitting on the edge of a large upholstered chair set slightly to their left, she asked, "She's missing?"
"Since yesterday morning," Samantha said. "We know you've been a foster mother to her more than once, and that at one point you had suggested that you would like to adopt her. We thought perhaps you might know something that would help us in looking for her."
Diana shook her head, obviously upset at the thought of Emma being gone. "Yes. We had hoped to adopt her. We had her for almost half a year. She was wonderful. And was so happy here. Greg and I - Greg is my husband - just adored her. She fit in so well that we thought... we'd hoped..." She shrugged, her voice trailing off, her disappointment clear. Inhaling deeply, she continued, "We'd hoped perhaps there was a possibility that we could keep her with us. It didn't work out, though. The mother came back, got herself set up in a new apartment, and was able to look after her, so that was the last we saw of her - until about two months ago. She was here for about a week. It was lovely to have her with us again." She smiled at the memory. "She adapted to being back again as though she'd never left! I was so surprised. A lot of the kids we have come stay with us are sullen, or angry, or suspicious, or any of the other things that it's only natural they'd be if their living conditions are such that they end up in foster care. But not Emma. She just has this way about her, as though it's all an adventure." She stopped talking long enough to take a breath and to look at the two agents. "What can I do to help you?"
"Do you remember Emma saying anything that, though it didn't seem important then, might hold more importance in light of her disappearance?" Samantha asked.
Diana's face took on a look of concentration. Looking past the two agents' heads, she focussed on the view outside the window. Finally, her gaze shifted to them and she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Nothing."
"Did she go to school the week she was here?"
Diana shook her head. "No. When I have a child, I like to home school. It's the only way to make things manageable. We don't always know how long we'll have a child with us - it might be a day, a week or several months, like it was with Emma that time." She smiled. "Emma is such a bright little thing. She's very quick."
Samantha nodded. Looking at Jack, they both moved to stand up. Time was running out, and they had more visits to make before the day was over.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Ramsey," Samantha said. "If you can think of anything that might help us, we'd appreciate hearing from you." She passed the woman her card. "You can reach us here. Perhaps your husband might recall something."
Diana nodded, looking down at the card. "I will. I'm very sorry I can't be more helpful. It's just that I don't remember her really talking about anyone, except her caseworkers and a little friend she had who lived next door to her."
Samantha looked interested. "A friend? Do you remember the friend's name?" Stephanie Matthews had said she didn't think her daughter had any particular friends in the building.
Diana paused a moment, then put up her hands, palms up. "No, I'm sorry. Sophie, maybe, or Sarah? I'm not sure. I should have paid more attention."
"If you think of it, please call us. It could help," Jack said, not recalling either name having come up during any of the interviews that had been conducted. He moved towards the front door.
In moments, they were driving away.
Samantha sighed. "At least that's one off our list."
Jack grunted. "I dunno. They're moving. What's to say they haven't taken Emma and plan to set up home wherever they're moving to with her as part of the family? It would make sense. We're going to have to take a look at Mr. Ramsey. And put their house under surveillance."
"Just on the strength of your suspicions?"
"I'm not even sure I have suspicions, but I need to be sure."
Samantha nodded. "We still haven't heard from Danny about the father," she said, thinking of their only other suspect.
"We'll give him a call if we haven't heard from him in the next thirty minutes," Jack said. Giving a quick glance at his watch, he said, "We should stop somewhere for lunch. I don't know when we'll be back at the office, and the next two stops are in opposite parts of the city."
"You won't get an argument from me. I've been hungry since about eleven," Samantha said.
"Then we'll stop sooner, as opposed to later," Jack promised. "You know this area?"
She shook her head. "Let's just stop at the first place that doesn't look like that dive on Cuthrow," she said.
Jack grinned. "Sometimes the best food is found in a restaurant with a little dirt in the corners."
"Jack, there was more than just a little dirt in that place. It was disgusting. I mean, there are standards! Where are the health inspectors?!"
He looked at her with interest, a hint of humour glinting in his eyes. "I didn't know that restaurants were one of your picky points."
"If you took me to dinner more, you'd discover all sorts of things you don't know about me," she grinned, not thinking of what she was saying until the words hung in the air between them. She immediately realised they sounded like an invitation - and just as quickly realised she didn't mind. She held his gaze. He could take her words as he liked, because she knew if she was being honest, she wanted more of his time and attention. It wasn't right, maybe, but it was as it was.
Jack turned his eyes away. "Maybe it's time I rectified that," he said in a dry tone, turning the car smoothly into the parking lot of a small diner.
She looked at him, wondering at his words. His features, however, gave nothing away. Wishing she could see his eyes, she began to undo her seatbelt as he drove into a parking spot.
* * *
Sitting in a booth built for two, Jack took a sip of coffee and asked, "So, who do we see next?"
Samantha checked her notes. "David and Shelly Smith, and then Lyle and Kendra Newell."
When she told them their addresses, Jack nodded. "We should be finished by about 5:00, if traffic is good and they're home when they said they would be."
Samantha shrugged. "I left messages. Hopefully they'll be there."
They sat quietly for a while, sipping coffee while waiting for their meal. Reluctant to break the companionable silence, but feeling she should make conversation, Samantha eventually asked, "Is there something you need to get home for? Is that why you want to be finished by 5:00?"
Jack shook his head. He looked down at his coffee mug a moment, then raised dark eyes to meet hers. "I thought if we were done early enough, I could take you somewhere decent for dinner. Unless you have plans."
Samantha felt something warm slowly blossom inside her. "No," she replied quickly, "Dinner would be great." Glancing at the menu sitting on their table, she added dryly, "It'd be nice to eat a meal that didn't require catsup to make it edible."
They smiled at one another, knowing that something was happening here that probably shouldn't. Whatever it was, however, they were moving headlong for it, and whatever the dangers of it was seeming less and less important.
End Chapter 4 Shelter
27 HOURS MISSING 11:30 a.m.
Two hours after leaving Nancy Shelby's office, they were standing in front of a small, comfortable looking home in one of the out-skirting suburbs of the city. Looking at the small side yard, which held a swing set and a sandbox, Samantha commented, "Looks like a good place for kids." The contrast between this small, neatly landscaped yard on its quiet, tree- lined street and the garbage-strewn dirt patch Emma played on outside her building was depressing. Samantha pictured the little girl happily running across the lawn towards the swing, and felt a wave of sadness wash over her.
They walked to the front door and, seeing no doorbell, Jack rapped his knuckles on the blue-painted surface. A moment of waiting, and they heard someone call, "I'll be right there!" Another moment, and the door was opened by a smiling, long-haired woman of about thirty-two. Shorter than either agent, she brushed her straight, dark hair back over her shoulders and looked up at them with surprised brown eyes. Stepping back slightly, she said, "Why, hello. May I help you?"
"Are you Diana Ramsey?" Jack asked. When the woman indicated that she was, he identified himself and Samantha. At the mention of 'FBI', Diana looked both curious and relieved. Relief wasn't the reaction they were used to getting when they identified themselves, and it must have shown, because Diana immediately began to explain herself: "I was expecting you to pull out a pamphlet and start discussing the state of my soul." She looked from one trench-coated agent to the other, then hastened to add, "No offence. I mean, I have a lot of appreciation for faith so strong that you're willing to put up with going door to door to spread The Word, but I'm trying to get some things done, and-"
Jack put out his hand quickly. "That's okay," he assured her. "No offence taken. We're wondering if we could come in and talk to you about a little girl you've had in your care - Emma Matthews."
Diana Ramsey stopped talking and her expression changed to one of happy recognition and hope. "Emma? Of course! Come in. Does this mean that things have changed? That the mother might consider adoption?"
Jack and Samantha shared a glance. Either the woman was a very good actress, or she had no idea that Emma was missing.
Moving into the house, Samantha noted packing boxes along the hallway walls. "You're moving?" she asked.
Diana nodded. "Yes. My husband got a transfer." She looked concerned. "Would that affect the adoption?"
Samantha shook her head. Rather than point out that the FBI didn't get involved in adoptions, she simply said, "I'm sorry. We're not here about that - we're here because Emma has disappeared."
Diana stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"
Jack indicated the door leading to what he could see was the living room. "Why don't we have a seat? We'll explain everything we can."
"Oh, of course," the woman said. Walking into the living room, she quickly crossed the floor and removed a pile of cardboard boxes from a love seat set in front of the window. Putting them on the floor, she indicated that they should sit in the newly made space. Sitting on the edge of a large upholstered chair set slightly to their left, she asked, "She's missing?"
"Since yesterday morning," Samantha said. "We know you've been a foster mother to her more than once, and that at one point you had suggested that you would like to adopt her. We thought perhaps you might know something that would help us in looking for her."
Diana shook her head, obviously upset at the thought of Emma being gone. "Yes. We had hoped to adopt her. We had her for almost half a year. She was wonderful. And was so happy here. Greg and I - Greg is my husband - just adored her. She fit in so well that we thought... we'd hoped..." She shrugged, her voice trailing off, her disappointment clear. Inhaling deeply, she continued, "We'd hoped perhaps there was a possibility that we could keep her with us. It didn't work out, though. The mother came back, got herself set up in a new apartment, and was able to look after her, so that was the last we saw of her - until about two months ago. She was here for about a week. It was lovely to have her with us again." She smiled at the memory. "She adapted to being back again as though she'd never left! I was so surprised. A lot of the kids we have come stay with us are sullen, or angry, or suspicious, or any of the other things that it's only natural they'd be if their living conditions are such that they end up in foster care. But not Emma. She just has this way about her, as though it's all an adventure." She stopped talking long enough to take a breath and to look at the two agents. "What can I do to help you?"
"Do you remember Emma saying anything that, though it didn't seem important then, might hold more importance in light of her disappearance?" Samantha asked.
Diana's face took on a look of concentration. Looking past the two agents' heads, she focussed on the view outside the window. Finally, her gaze shifted to them and she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. Nothing."
"Did she go to school the week she was here?"
Diana shook her head. "No. When I have a child, I like to home school. It's the only way to make things manageable. We don't always know how long we'll have a child with us - it might be a day, a week or several months, like it was with Emma that time." She smiled. "Emma is such a bright little thing. She's very quick."
Samantha nodded. Looking at Jack, they both moved to stand up. Time was running out, and they had more visits to make before the day was over.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Ramsey," Samantha said. "If you can think of anything that might help us, we'd appreciate hearing from you." She passed the woman her card. "You can reach us here. Perhaps your husband might recall something."
Diana nodded, looking down at the card. "I will. I'm very sorry I can't be more helpful. It's just that I don't remember her really talking about anyone, except her caseworkers and a little friend she had who lived next door to her."
Samantha looked interested. "A friend? Do you remember the friend's name?" Stephanie Matthews had said she didn't think her daughter had any particular friends in the building.
Diana paused a moment, then put up her hands, palms up. "No, I'm sorry. Sophie, maybe, or Sarah? I'm not sure. I should have paid more attention."
"If you think of it, please call us. It could help," Jack said, not recalling either name having come up during any of the interviews that had been conducted. He moved towards the front door.
In moments, they were driving away.
Samantha sighed. "At least that's one off our list."
Jack grunted. "I dunno. They're moving. What's to say they haven't taken Emma and plan to set up home wherever they're moving to with her as part of the family? It would make sense. We're going to have to take a look at Mr. Ramsey. And put their house under surveillance."
"Just on the strength of your suspicions?"
"I'm not even sure I have suspicions, but I need to be sure."
Samantha nodded. "We still haven't heard from Danny about the father," she said, thinking of their only other suspect.
"We'll give him a call if we haven't heard from him in the next thirty minutes," Jack said. Giving a quick glance at his watch, he said, "We should stop somewhere for lunch. I don't know when we'll be back at the office, and the next two stops are in opposite parts of the city."
"You won't get an argument from me. I've been hungry since about eleven," Samantha said.
"Then we'll stop sooner, as opposed to later," Jack promised. "You know this area?"
She shook her head. "Let's just stop at the first place that doesn't look like that dive on Cuthrow," she said.
Jack grinned. "Sometimes the best food is found in a restaurant with a little dirt in the corners."
"Jack, there was more than just a little dirt in that place. It was disgusting. I mean, there are standards! Where are the health inspectors?!"
He looked at her with interest, a hint of humour glinting in his eyes. "I didn't know that restaurants were one of your picky points."
"If you took me to dinner more, you'd discover all sorts of things you don't know about me," she grinned, not thinking of what she was saying until the words hung in the air between them. She immediately realised they sounded like an invitation - and just as quickly realised she didn't mind. She held his gaze. He could take her words as he liked, because she knew if she was being honest, she wanted more of his time and attention. It wasn't right, maybe, but it was as it was.
Jack turned his eyes away. "Maybe it's time I rectified that," he said in a dry tone, turning the car smoothly into the parking lot of a small diner.
She looked at him, wondering at his words. His features, however, gave nothing away. Wishing she could see his eyes, she began to undo her seatbelt as he drove into a parking spot.
* * *
Sitting in a booth built for two, Jack took a sip of coffee and asked, "So, who do we see next?"
Samantha checked her notes. "David and Shelly Smith, and then Lyle and Kendra Newell."
When she told them their addresses, Jack nodded. "We should be finished by about 5:00, if traffic is good and they're home when they said they would be."
Samantha shrugged. "I left messages. Hopefully they'll be there."
They sat quietly for a while, sipping coffee while waiting for their meal. Reluctant to break the companionable silence, but feeling she should make conversation, Samantha eventually asked, "Is there something you need to get home for? Is that why you want to be finished by 5:00?"
Jack shook his head. He looked down at his coffee mug a moment, then raised dark eyes to meet hers. "I thought if we were done early enough, I could take you somewhere decent for dinner. Unless you have plans."
Samantha felt something warm slowly blossom inside her. "No," she replied quickly, "Dinner would be great." Glancing at the menu sitting on their table, she added dryly, "It'd be nice to eat a meal that didn't require catsup to make it edible."
They smiled at one another, knowing that something was happening here that probably shouldn't. Whatever it was, however, they were moving headlong for it, and whatever the dangers of it was seeming less and less important.
End Chapter 4 Shelter