Jan Burke - Kidnapped

We let the dogs out every so often, just to see if they reacted to anything. Ben had been teaching Caleb to work with Bool, so Ben alternated between Bingle and Altair while Caleb teamed with Bool. Bingle and Altair could work off lead; Bool worked in a harness and on a lead. Each dog had his idiosyncrasies, his way of doing the job, signaling his handler, being rewarded. Not for the first time, I marveled at Ben’s ability to keep it all straight.

Caleb had one of his sister’s shoes. A tiny girl’s shoe-a doll’s shoe, it seemed to me. He wore gloves as he handled it and made sure Bool could get the scent of the interior. So far, Bool hadn’t hit on anything like it, although Ben was concerned that the scent might have degraded over time, or that it had been contaminated by others who might have handled the shoe less carefully. He groused about this and about the problems of having a family member working the dog, until I asked Caleb if he was okay, given all that he was having to cope with today. Ben can be a prickly son of a bitch, but he’s not stupid or uncaring, so he stopped making complaints after that.

We had the windows down as I slowly drove the Jeep up Cold Creek Road, looking for driveways or private roads. Suddenly, Bingle and Altair came to their feet. A moment later they started going nuts.

“Stop the car!” Ben yelled.

I did, and he let them out. They bounded toward a clump of boulders, barked sharply, then came back to Ben. He told them how good they were as they led him toward the boulders, both of the big shepherds doggie-grinning and cavorting as if there could be no happier creatures on earth.

“Jenny!” Caleb called as he got out of the Jeep, then, remembering, said, “Genie? Aaron? Troy?”

Two small heads peered from one side of the boulders.

“Do those dogs bite?”

“No, they don’t bite,” Ben said. “They barked to tell me how happy they are to have found you.” He signaled to the dogs and sent them running after the floppy Frisbees he had brought as their play reward.

Apparently it wasn’t the dogs that scared the boys, though. They eyed us warily. Caleb was anxiously looking around for some sign of his sister, but to his credit, did his best to stay calm otherwise.

“You’re Troy, aren’t you?” I said to the boy who had spoken.

He nodded. “And this is my brother, Aaron. Would you please call the police? We aren’t allowed to let you take us with you. We have to tell you we need the police.”

Caleb pulled his cell phone out. “That’s smart. We don’t want to scare you. I’m Caleb, and I’m calling the police right now. That’s Ben. And this is Irene.”

“Irene?” they said in unison, staring at me.

“What’s your last name?” Troy asked.

“Kelly.”

“Do you live at the Las Piernas News Express at Six Hundred Broadway in Las Piernas, California?”

I couldn’t hide my surprise. “Yes, I work there.”

“Genie said you’re our friend,” Aaron said. They came out from behind the rocks. “What are the dogs’ names?”

Caleb introduced them, then said, “Ben, is your phone working up here? I’m not getting a signal.”

Ben came back with the dogs and took his phone out. “Not much of one, and I don’t have much battery left.”

I checked mine-like Caleb, I didn’t have a signal.

Ben made the call. They answered. He said, “This is Ben Sheridan-,” moved slightly, and the phone made a beeping sound as it disconnected.

Troy was studying me. “Genie said you know where our sister Carrie is. Do you?”

“Yes, and after the police know that everyone is okay, I’ll make sure she gets a chance to talk to you.”

“Our mom is on vacation,” Aaron volunteered.

“Really?” I said, a little faintly. “You mentioned Genie. Where is she?”

Troy said, “She went back to save Daddy from Cousin Cleo.”

Caleb went pale. “Oh, no…”

“Troy,” Aaron said, “give her the note, remember?”

Troy fished in his jacket pocket, then handed me a piece of notebook paper. Caleb read over my shoulder.

Ben tried to call the San Bernardino Sheriff’s Department again. He connected, but before he could give more than his name, he was transferred.

“What?” Ben shouted into the phone a moment later. “She’s not part of any authorized search team… No dogs? Arrest her… I don’t know what charges, but she’s up to something. She’s connected to the”-he glanced at the boys-“the family. No, we broke up. But I’m not calling about Anna.”

I extended the note toward him, and he reached for it, causing him to lose the connection again. He made a hissing sound of exasperation and, as he hit redial, told me, “Anna’s up here. One of the guys in the SBSD saw her picking up a map from a real-estate office while he was on patrol.”

He got through and gave the SBSD his attention again. “Listen,” he said, “forget Anna. This is far more important, and my phone’s not going to last. I’m on Cold Creek, and we’ve found the boys. Yes, Troy and Aaron. They seem to be okay, but their sister and Roy Fletcher-” A series of ominous beeps sounded from the phone. Only the presence of small children kept us from saying what ran through our minds.

Ben took a calming breath. “They heard me say we found the boys, I named this road, and they’ll have my number on caller ID. The cell phone company may be able to tell them exactly where.”

I asked the boys if anyone else was at the house.

“Just Dad, Genie, and Cleo,” Troy said. “Cleo is really mean. And weird.”

“You have mail there,” Aaron told me. “I raised the flag on the mailbox.”

“Mail?”

“A camera with pictures of us in it,” Troy said. “And our snowman.”

“But not our snowboy,” Aaron added.

“I’m going up there,” Caleb said.

“I’ll go with you. Ben?”

“I’ll stay here with Aaron and Troy and the dogs. I suppose it’s useless to tell you not to approach until the sheriff’s department arrives?”

“Useless,” Caleb agreed. “We’ll be careful.”

“Better be,” Troy warned us. “Cleo hurts people.”

“Take the dogs to protect you,” Aaron advised.

“They don’t bite,” Troy reminded him. “So they aren’t guard dogs.”

“The dogs will stay here with us, waiting for the sheriff’s department,” Ben said. He added sternly, “Irene and Caleb are not going to do anything but make sure that Cleo doesn’t take Genie and your dad away from the cabin. Right?”

“Right,” I agreed, although Caleb was already back in the Jeep and didn’t hear him.

“Oh!” Troy said. “Don’t drive up the road, because Cleo can see your car on the curve. You have to hide in the trees or she might catch you.”

I tossed my keys to Ben. “We’d better approach on foot.”

I motioned to Caleb. A minute later we were running up the road.

Wednesday, May 3

3:15 P.M.

SAN BERNARDINO MOUNTAINS

GENIE got back to the cabin after seeing the boys on their way and let herself back in as quietly as possible. Upstairs, she could hear Cleo pacing around, yelling at Dad. As usual, Dad was just letting her yell.

Genie took off her gloves and hat. She took the knife out of her jacket pocket.

Now what?

She decided that she would hide in the linen closet near the top of the stairs. When Cleo came by, she would stab her and push her down the stairs so she would die, just like Mom died.

She made it to the closet under the cover of Cleo’s shouting. It was dark inside the closet, but she kept the door open the barest crack to watch for Cleo, and after a little while, her eyes adjusted to the low light. Cleo’s yelling took more breaks now. Once in a while Genie could hear the creaking of the bed. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had made her mad. She was calling Dad a liar, saying he had tricked her. She used a whole lot of bad words. She said that no one had the right to mess with her. She knew the kids were gone. She was saying she was going to be gone, too, and leave him here to explain everything. She laughed at that, but soon she was yelling again. She said she had loved him and saved him and his miserable kids, and this was how he repaid her.