He had tried Gloria again and again that evening, but the phone just rang. Was she playing a game with him? He finally reached her at midnight and was quick to notice that at some point her defiant bravado had collapsed. Her voice sounded tired and listless when she answered. “What do you want?”
He was careful to keep his tone moderated and warm. “Gloria, I know how tough this has been for you.” He was about to add that it had been tough for him, too, but clamped his teeth over that sentence. It would have given her an opening and, worse than that, a golden opportunity to rekindle her sense of being entrapped.
“Gloria,” he continued, “I’ve been thinking. I’m not going to give you two hundred thousand as we agreed. I’m going to triple it. I’m going to give you six hundred thousand dollars in cash by the end of next week.”
He was delighted to hear her astonished gasp. Was she stupid enough to really fall for it? “You only have one more thing to do,” he continued, “and that is to show up in the Franciscan church one more time about quarter of five. I’ll let you know what evening.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll go to confession again?”
If she were in this room, I’d kill her right now, he thought. Instead he laughed. “I looked it up. You’re right about the seal of the confessional.”
“Aren’t you torturing Matthew’s mother enough? Why do you have to kill her?”
Not for the same reason I’m going to kill you, he thought. You know too much. I’d never be sure that so-called conscience of yours wouldn’t start bubbling to the surface. As for Zan, I won’t be happy until they are planning her funeral.
“Gloria, I’m not going to kill her,” he said. “That was just angry talk.”
“I don’t believe you. I know how much you hate her.” The edge of anger and even panic was creeping back into Gloria’s voice.
“Gloria, how did we start this conversation? Let me remind you. I’m going to give you six hundred thousand dollars in cash, in genuine U.S. dollars, that you’ll be able to put in a safe-deposit box and live on while you give yourself a chance to do the only thing you really want to do and that is to walk across the stage in a Broadway play or on a movie set. You’re a beautiful woman. Unlike most of the look-alike Barbie dolls in Hollywood, you’re also a chameleon. You can look and walk and talk like someone else. You remind me of Helen Mirren in The Queen. You’ve got that level of talent. I’m asking you for a week. At the most ten days. I’ll want you to go to that church, and I’ll let you know what to wear. The minute you leave, it’s all over. We’ll meet someplace nearby and I’ll give you five thousand dollars right away. That’s as much cash as you should carry in case your bags are opened in an airport.”
“Then what?”
“You go back to Middletown. You wait until about nine or ten o’clock that night, then drop Matthew off in a department store or mall. After that, you’re on a plane to California, or Texas, or wherever you like, to start your new life. I know you’re worried about your father. You can tell him you were on a mission for the CIA.”
“Not more than ten days.” Now her voice was tentative, almost convinced. Then she added, “But how will I get the rest of the cash?”
You’ll never have that problem, he thought. “I’ll have the money packaged and mailed to you anywhere you want.”
“But how can I trust that the package will arrive or that, if it does, that it won’t be stuffed with old newspapers?”
You can’t trust me, he thought. Reaching for the straight-up double scotch that he had promised himself he wouldn’t touch until after he spoke to her, he said, “Gloria, if that ever happened, and it won’t, you can go back to plan B. Get a lawyer, tell him your story, get him to arrange a book deal, and then go to the cops. In the meantime, Matthew has been found, nice and healthy, and the only thing he knows is that Glory took care of him.”
“I read him a lot of books. He’s smarter than a lot of kids his age.”
I’m sure you were a real Mother Teresa, he thought. “Gloria, this will be over soon and you’ll be rich.”
“All right. I’m sorry I got so upset before. It’s just that this woman who lives near here showed up with some stupid muffins this morning. I know she was just sniffing around to see what kind of person I am.”
“You didn’t tell me about her earlier,” he said quietly. “Did she see Matthew?”
“No, but she saw his toy truck and told me she was such a great babysitter if I ever needed one. I told her my sister had helped me move in and that it was her little boy’s truck.”
“That sounds all right to me.”
“The real estate agent is this woman’s big friend. I had told the real estate agent that I was coming in by myself at night. She’s another nosy one. I know she drove by early the morning after I got here.”
He felt himself begin to perspire. For want of a horse the rider is lost . . . Incongruous that he should remember that old saying right now. His mind explored the possible scenarios. The nosy blueberry muffin lady checking with her real estate friend. He didn’t want to think about that.
Time was running out.
It was hard to keep the reassuring note in his voice. “Gloria, you’re borrowing trouble. Just start counting down the days.”
“You bet I will. And not just for my sake. This little kid doesn’t want to stay hidden anymore. He wants to go look for his mother.”