64

Cheryl lay in bed, staring listlessly out the window. She heard people enter the room and turned toward them. At first, she seemed scared when she saw her grandmother. Then she smiled as tears ran down her face. “Gram . . .”

Betty Guerette darted across the hospital room and hugged her granddaughter. Archie followed and looked more than a bit awkward as he stood beside the bed waiting for them to finish their embrace.

Sam Fuchs stood back, silently observing as the family spent a few moments consoling each other. After a tearful few minutes, Cheryl looked over her grandmother’s shoulder and saw Fuchs.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

“Do you two know each other?” Betty asked.

“We met last night when they brought me here,” Cheryl replied.

Fuchs smiled. “How are you?”

“Better. Have they found him?”

“No, but they’re searching every inch of the woods up there and have alerted the rest of the state, New Hampshire, and Massachusetts, as well. They’ll find him; it’s only a matter of time.”

Fuchs took charge of the meeting. The state policeman took a small recorder out of his pocket and placed it on the stand beside her bed. “I’d like to tape this conversation if you don’t mind. Cheryl, we need to know everything you can tell us about this guy.” He looked at her grandparents. “You folks might want to step outside . . . this could be hard to hear.”

“If Cheryl is going to get past this, we need to know what we’re dealing with,” Betty said. “We’ll stay.”

Fuchs wondered how Cheryl felt about them hearing her story. When she said, “I want them here. I have to tell them what happened eventually,” she gave Fuchs an intent look.

Fuchs nodded his head and then started his recorder and told everyone to find chairs and take a seat. Once everyone was settled, he sat back, perched on the unoccupied bed. He looked at Cheryl and said, “Why don’t you start? It may be best if you start at the beginning when he abducted you.”

Cheryl glanced at her grandmother. Her lower lip trembled. “I was looking for a fix, working around Traveler Street and the Public Garden . . .” She looked at her grandmother, uncertain of the reception she would get when she confessed to being a drug addict and prostitute.

Betty wrapped her arms around her granddaughter. “Don’t worry, just tell your story.”

Archie sat on the foot of the bed and softly patted Cheryl’s leg. “Ain’t no judges or juries here, Cheryl—just your family and friends.”

She inhaled and stiffened like a condemned woman who’d just decided to get her execution over and done with. “Gram, Gramp . . . can you ever forgive me?”

Elizabeth patted her hand. “Don’t you worry, baby, there’s nothing to forgive. I know what you were doing.” Trying to ease the tension, she glanced at Archie. “You don’t live with a sailor all your life and not know of such things.”

Archie reddened and said, “Now, Betty, that was before I married you . . .”

Betty shut him up with a wave of her hand. “Go on, Cheryl, tell these people what they need to know to find this man.”