Author's Note: I apologize for the lengthy wait between chapters! I ended up with COVID a week into January, and even though it was not a severe case, it took me a while to get through the brain fog and low energy so that I could write again. I'm still coughing a bit, but I'm much improved now! Thank you to those who messaged to check on me — I appreciate your encouragement!
If anyone knows how to get in touch with Marbo, please let her know that she is missed. I haven't seen any reviews from her on this story, and that has me a little worried. But as she always reviewed as a guest instead of logging in, I can't message her here.
Thank you to my readers, especially my beta-readers katbybee and Piscean6724! I appreciate you all!
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Chapter 11
Johnny hadn't kept in touch with Rocky Marlowe over the years as Roy had with Swede. Their exploits on that first trip to Seattle had not been particularly successful or enjoyable. When Johnny thought back to the deep-sea fishing trip, his stomach felt queasy all over again. So it took him a moment to register who had stepped out of the car that was going to transport him and Roy and Nita to Ridgefield.
"Johnny… Roy…" Rocky said, stretching out a hand to shake. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. I've been… um… deep-sea fishing…" He cast an apologetic glance in Johnny's direction. "…but I came back as soon as I heard the news." He turned to Nita. "You must be Mrs. Gage. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Swede said you needed a driver to get you down to Ridgefield. I'm more than happy to volunteer."
This wasn't the real Rocky. Johnny could feel the tension, the careful restraint. The real Rocky would have been joking about marriage being a drag, how he couldn't believe Johnny had fallen into it, and how surely Nita could have done better. Mostly, he was grateful Rocky held back, but part of him wished they could fall into that old banter, and he could forget for a little bit about the errand taking them to Ridgefield.
It was then he saw the last thing he would have expected on Rocky's left hand. A gold wedding band. Rocky must have noticed his gaze on it because he wiggled his fingers and raised an eyebrow as he shrugged. "Six months ago. And everything I ever said about marriage was the absolute truth." Yeah, there was the real Rocky. But he bottled it up again in a minute and waved towards his car. "Hop in. We should hit the road."
Johnny nudged Roy toward the front seat. He wanted to sit with Nita. She had hardly eaten since everything happened yesterday, and she hadn't slept well either. Now she was pale and trembling. She was the strongest woman Johnny knew, but JoJo's kidnapping had hit her hard. Leaving Jamie behind at the Halversons, even with Joanne to watch over him, had taken a lot out of her. He wanted to keep her close. She climbed in first, settling into the middle seat. Then Johnny folded his lanky form into the seat behind Roy. Once they were all belted in, he put his arm around Nita's shoulders. "Close your eyes, honey," he whispered. "Try to get a little sleep. We both need some rest."
Nita nodded and rested her head on his chest. Soon, her eyes drifted shut. Johnny's head drooped, and he dozed off as well. His sleep was fitful, though, and he was always conscious of his wife clinging to him.
He was watching JoJo laugh and twirl in his dreams and then she called out, "Anki!" and he reached to pull her into his arms, but his hands went right through her and then suddenly she was receding into the distance, crying and calling for him. He jerked awake to find Rocky slowing to a stop at an intersection. They were in the middle of what seemed like the quintessential American small town. Just ahead, across the street, Johnny spotted a bright red two-story firehouse.
"We're almost there," Rocky said, and he hung a right instead of going straight. "That old fire station backs up to the police station on Main." He took a left at the next stop sign, then pulled into a parking spot on the street outside a police station that looked incredibly small to Johnny's eyes, in spite of its old-fashioned false front. Walking through the front doors at that very moment was Detective Seward.
Johnny gently shook Nita awake. "C'mon, honey," he said softly in Choctaw. "We made good time. The detective only just got here too."
"If you don't mind," Rocky said, "I'm going to wait in the car and get some shut eye." He leaned his seat back, propped his feet up on the dash, and closed his eyes.
Nita's hand in the crook of his elbow, Johnny followed Roy to the door of the police station, then took a deep breath as they stepped inside.
Detective Seward was talking with a police officer, a slight scowl darkening his eyes, then fading as he looked up and nodded to Johnny and Nita. "Sergeant Anderson, these are the parents, John and Nita Gage."
"Mr. Gage." Anderson nicked his head. "Mrs. Gage. I'm sorry I don't have better news for you. We haven't been able to get anything out of Ms. Martinez. She's refusing to answer any questions, won't even talk to a lawyer."
"Give me five minutes with her!" Johnny growled.
"Absolutely not." Anderson glared at Johnny for a moment, then softened. "I get it, Mr. Gage. I do. I have a daughter of my own. But it's not a good idea. We're assembling a search party now, and if you want to be part of that, you're more than welcome." He cleared his throat. "I'd like Mrs. Gage to stay here, though, so she's on hand as soon as we find your little girl. No worries — we'll take good care of her."
Releasing a long sigh, Johnny nodded. At least this was something he could do. He bent to murmur in Nita's ear. She looked up at him and nodded. "Go, Nashoba. Find her. I'll be all right."
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Shawna yawned. It had been a quiet day at the clinic, which was good because her assistant was out with the flu. Normally, they would be open till five even on a Saturday, but today she had to close up early. Well, not really close up — she had a house call to make before she could head home. It was part and parcel of working in a farming district like this. Just as she opened her car door and was about to climb in, though, an old brown station wagon pulled up beside her and the driver rolled down his window. He was an elderly man with a panicked look in his eyes. "Are you the lady vet?"
"Yes, but… we're closed, Sir. I've got a ca —" The sound of retching cut her off. She peered in through the window and past the driver to see a German Shepherd in the midst of a seizure.
"My dog, Haven." The man's anxious gaze locked on her. "Please… you… you have to help her. I think my daughter gave her chocolate." He leaned across and unlocked the door so she could reach in. And that's when she saw the little girl in the back seat. She gasped at the sight. This was the same little girl whose face she'd seen on the news the previous night. The little girl whose photograph was on her refrigerator. JoJo Gage.
She glanced from the child to the man. He looked embarrassed. "My granddaughter, Ada. I know, she's supposed to be in a car seat." Maybe he had misinterpreted her gasp? "It was an emergency. I… couldn't just leave her. Don't know where my daughter went. She… disappeared. There's… something wrong with that girl."
Nodding, Shawna carefully schooled her expression, but her thoughts were going every which way. She couldn't afford to frighten the man. He might drive off instead of coming inside. He didn't seem like a kidnapper. But there was no mistaking the little girl's face. How could he not know? If he did, though… well, she couldn't let on that she knew anything was amiss. He was genuinely worried about the dog, so she figured she could get him and the girl into the office and call the police after she started treatment on the poor creature. "Um… that's fine. If… if you don't mind letting me carry her in, I think it would be best if you carried Haven."
He paused for a second, then nodded. "Yes, yes… that's probably best." He looked to the backseat. "Sweetheart, this nice lady is going to carry you inside."
"Mama here? Papa?" the little girl asked as Shawna opened the back door. She unbuckled the seat belt and pulled the child into her arms. Wow, but she looks like her daddy!
"I've got you, sweetie," she said softly, standing back while the man came around to get his dog. Instinctively, she swayed a little and let her voice go into that sing-song tone she used to use when her kids were babies. "We'll get you to your Mama real soon now."
When she got back to the clinic, Shawna shifted JoJo to her hip, then unlocked the door. She turned and beckoned to the man. "Come on in. You can take her down the hall to the first exam room.
The dog vomited again, and the man murmured an apology.
"Don't worry about it — happens all the time." Shawna smiled. "Occupational hazard, you know? We'll take good care of her." She couldn't help the feeling that this man was harmless. He had a gentle look in his eyes, and the way he held the dog close even though it had just thrown up all down his shirt was a testament to his love for the animal. No one who loved a dog like that could be bad… could he?
She followed him into the exam room. "Mr… um…"
"Ortiz… Manuel Ortiz." He laid Haven on the exam table, then reached for the baby before pulling away and looking down at his wet, stained shirt. "Guess I shouldn't take her like this. But she's OK on a chair by herself."
Shawna smiled. For now, she just hung on to JoJo. She had some questions to ask before she could treat the dog, anyway. "Do you know what kind of chocolate she ingested?"
"It must have been baking chocolate. I don't know how much, and I don't know exactly when… except it must have been this morning." He narrowed his eyes and his brow furrowed. "I don't usually keep sweets in the house, but I have some baking chocolate and Ramona decided to make brownies. We never cut into them though, and I made sure they were out of Haven's reach." He shuddered, and his eyes filled with tears. "I could tell she didn't like Haven when she came home yesterday with the baby. But I never thought she would try —"
Ramona… the name from the news. "Mr. Ortiz…" Shawna reached to touch the old man's shoulder. "I'm going to do everything I can for Haven." She set JoJo on a chair, then moved to Haven's side and began assessing her. First she needed to get the seizures and tachycardia under control; then she could focus on getting the chocolate out of Haven's system.
Working quickly, Shawna got an IV with the necessary medications going. As soon as she was confident she could step away from the dog for a moment, she turned to Mr. Ortiz. "If you'll excuse me just a moment, I need to make a phone call — I had a client expecting me, but I can reschedule."
He ducked his head for a second. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm sorry I interrupted your day."
"Don't worry about it." She gave him a broad smile as she moved to the door. "I'll be right back, and then you can go clean up in the bathroom."
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Detective Seward sat across the interrogation table from a woman he judged to be in her early thirties. She hadn't responded to any of his questions. About an hour into his interrogation, she had started rocking slightly in her chair, humming the tune to This Little Light of Mine. The sound of that innocent children's song, slow as a dirge and in a minor key, made his spine crawl. Occasionally, she raised her chin and her eyes turned in his direction, but he wasn't convinced she saw him — instead, she seemed to look through him.
"Ms. Vasquez," he said, leaning forward. "It's important that you cooperate. I need to make sure the little girl is safe. Things will go better for you if you tell us where to find her."
Now she gave a soft laugh and started to sing as she continued to rock back and forth. "Hide it under a bushel, no. I'm gonna let it shine." Then she laughed again. Her glazed eyes teared up. "See, baby," she continued in a creepy singsong. "I remembered. Ada honey, Mama remembered. But Mama's gotta hide her little light or they'll take you away. I won't let nobody take you away, not nobody. Not even your da —"
"I want answers, damn it!" Seward brought his fist crashing down on the desk. He was this close to giving John Gage those five minutes he wanted, though he doubted it would do any good. This woman was nuts. She might have appeared normal to the people she had worked with at the hotel, but something about seeing JoJo Gage had made her snap. Seward was growing increasingly convinced that she had orchestrated her husband's car accident. Maybe she hadn't meant for the real Ada to die along with her daddy, and she saw taking JoJo as a way to get her daughter back.
This outburst brought Sergeant Anderson through the door, his lips turned downward in a stern scowl. "Detective, can we talk?"
But Seward's raised voice also seemed to have gotten Ramona's attention. She grew quiet and looked up at him, her eyes wide and questioning. The sing-song tone vanished, and her next words sounded perfectly sane. "I'm sorry, what was it you wanted? Can I leave now? I hate to waste this lovely day sitting inside."
Seward closed his file and pushed his chair back. "Of course, Sergeant. Let's talk. Outside." This interrogation was going nowhere. He needed to get out of this room and come up with another tactic.
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In her office, Shawna closed the door before picking up the phone and dialing a number from memory. A second later, she heard her good friend Lori's voice on the other end of the line. "Hello. La Center Town Marshal's office. What can I do for you?"
Smiling, Shawna shook her head. "Bet those big city sheriffs don't answer their own phones like you do, Lori."
Lori laughed. "Hi, Shawna. Good to hear your voice. Are you and Max still coming to dinner after church on Sunday?"
"Um… yeah. But that's not why I'm calling." Shawna pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache starting. "Listen, I don't know if you heard about that kidnapping up in Seattle… two-year-old named JoJo Gage, snatched from the zoo? There was a segment on the news last night."
"Yeah, I heard about it. They arrested the suspect in Ridgefield earlier today. I was just about to go join the search party looking for the little girl, because she wasn't with the suspect."
"Don't bother. She's at my clinic. An old man… Manuel Ortiz… just came in here, brought the girl and his dog. He thinks his daughter poisoned the dog. He says the girl is his granddaughter — I don't know how much he knows about it, but he seems like a decent guy to me."
"I'll be there in ten minutes — I have to make some calls first. You keep Ortiz there if you can, but don't take any risks. I would hate for you to get hurt, Shawna." The line clicked. Lori had hung up on her. Shawna headed back to the exam room. She could call Hiram Ward and reschedule later.
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Haven seemed to be sleeping and Ada was rocking her teddy bear, so Manuel reached to grab a newspaper from the rack of reading material. It was today's edition of the Seattle Times. The front page had a report on the earthquake in Mexico City a couple days ago, as well as yesterday's aftershock.* Manuel had heard the news from a neighbor, but he didn't have a television, and the little local paper didn't give it more than a few lines, so this was the first he'd learned of the extent of the devastation. He had family in Mexico City, but they hadn't been in contact for years. He wished he could know if they were safe.
Shaking his head, he turned the page. His heart skipped a beat. At the top of page three was a police sketch that looked a lot like Ramona alongside a photograph of Ada and a little boy. The article that accompanied the pictures told of a kidnapping at the Seattle Zoo the previous day. Apparently, Ramona was the suspected kidnapper, and Ada — or JoJo — was the child she had taken.
Manuel lowered the paper. "JoJo?" he asked quietly.
The little girl looked up at him and beamed. "JoJo!" she echoed.
A lump settling in his throat, Manuel reached to run a hand through the child's dark curls. He had enjoyed being a grandfather, even if it only for a short time. He should have known it wasn't real. When that lady vet came back, he would ask her to call the police so they could get JoJo back to her real parents. As for Ramona… well, he wasn't sure what to do. He had no way of knowing where she'd gone, but he would help the police however he could.
When the door opened and the doctor stepped in again, Manuel was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. He looked up at her and held out the newspaper, still open to the article on the kidnapping. "I didn't know," he told her. "I just didn't know."
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Sarah Kate stared out her window at the dairy barn. She liked the Halversons. Nancy Halverson was as good a cook as Gramma used to be, and Swede told funny jokes and had taught her how to milk cows. She kind of liked being on a farm, too. Of course, the smell of cows would take some getting used to. She sighed heavily. Too bad she couldn't stick around long enough for that. But Mrs. Diehl from Child Services had come to talk with her earlier today to tell her Uncle Pete and Aunt Judy were coming to get her on Tuesday. Police were looking for Daddy all over the country, but no one had been able to find him yet. If they did, he would probably go to jail for kidnapping her even though he was her dad and they belonged together. It just isn't fair. No one cares what I want! Well, some people cared. JoAnne DeSoto, for instance, or Melissa Carter. But the people who could do something wouldn't listen.
Well, Sarah Kate wasn't going to give Mrs. Diehl or anyone else a chance to send her back. She still had some money hidden away, and she had street smarts and could take care of herself. When Daddy thought that they were close to getting caught, he just picked up in the middle of the night and moved on. She was going to do the same thing… well… sort of. There was a library just a couple blocks away — Nancy had told her about it. Tomorrow, she would ask permission to spend a few hours at the library. From there it would be easy enough to figure out where the closest bus stop was and catch a bus into the city. At the bus station, she'd buy a bus ticket to somewhere east of here. She'd go north into Canada if she thought they would let her cross the border, but you couldn't do things like that when you were just a kid who didn't have any sort of ID.
When DJ DeSoto came trudging out of the guest house and down the steps, Sarah Kate decided to go hang out with him. He wasn't allowed on the old playset in the backyard with his broken arm, but they could wander over to the pasture fence and watch the cows together. She shoved her backpack into the closet, then hurried out of the house to meet her friend.
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NOTES:
*On September 19, 1985, an earthquake measuring 8.0 on the Richter Scale struck Mexico City, with an aftershock of magnitude 7.5 the following day. It's uncertain how many died — around five thousand deaths were legally certified. Other reports give numbers anywhere from five thousand to forty-five thousand. Hundreds of thousands lost their homes.
