Linden Estates
Santa Rosa County, Florida
Taylor had met Santa Rosa County Sheriff Francis Norwich back in June. However, it was only weeks after the sheriff had suffered a heart attack and was still on the mend. It was difficult to match that convalescing woman with the person who waited on Dora’s portico. Dressed in uniform, she looked every bit the authoritarian figure Jason talked about, lean with square shoulders and sleek gray hair.
She watched and waited as Taylor parked along the Ramsey’s circle driveway behind the sheriff’s SUV. She continued to wait for her even as Dora opened the door. Unfortunately, Taylor wasn’t close enough to hear the exchange. But she did see Dora’s expression. Her mother-in-law looked surprised to see the sheriff, then her face turned into a scowl when her eyes found Taylor making her way to the front door.
Nevertheless, Dora led them into her formal living room, then sat down without offering them to do the same.
“Is your husband here? It would be a good idea for him to join us.”
“He was in Biloxi today for business. He’s making his way home as quickly and safely as possible. Besides, I’ve already taken care of things,” she said to the sheriff, avoiding even acknowledging Taylor.
“You’ve taken care of things?” Sheriff Norwich continued standing, and Taylor followed her lead. “Because my office hasn’t heard from you. Or are you saying your grandson is not missing?”
“I called Kevin Perry. He’s handling the situation.”
Taylor looked from Dora to Norwich as the two women seemed to stare each other down.
“I don’t understand,” Taylor finally said. “Who is Kevin Perry?”
“He’s an FBI agent,” Norwich answered, her eyes not leaving Dora’s. “From what I remember, he’s with the Jacksonville office. This isn’t his jurisdiction.”
Now Taylor understood why Dora hadn’t called Sheriff Norwich. She’d already called the FBI.
“I’m the one who decides if and when to call the FBI, Mrs. Ramsey.”
“Well then, I made your job much easier. And kidnapping is a federal offense.”
“Kidnapping?” The sheriff shot a look at Taylor, truly confused now. “You know your grandson has been taken? Has someone contacted you?”
“She thinks I took my son.”
This time Norwich let out a long sigh before confronting Dora. “And why do you think she’d do that?”
“Ask her. And then ask her where she’s hiding him.”
“In my experience—my twenty-eight years of experience—the parent who’s kidnapped the child isn’t the first one to call law enforcement.”
“Unless she’s afraid she’ll lose her custody rights.”
“We had an argument,” Taylor told Norwich, but just like the sheriff, she didn’t take her eyes off of Dora.
“It was a discussion.”
“What if Will heard us?”
“Then you have that to feel guilty about as well.”
“Hold on.” Norwich put up her hands. “Ms. Donahue, did you take your son?”
“No. He was with me for the weekend. I brought him back here last night.”
A knock at the door startled all of them. Norwich stepped back into the entrance. “My deputies are here.” She held up a finger to tell them to wait. “Whatever happened between the two of you, I need to hear about it. But right now, it’s my understanding we have a young boy who didn’t make it to school this morning and hasn’t come back home. Is that true, Mrs. Ramsey?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember what he was wearing this morning?”
Norwich pulled out a small notebook and pen, and Taylor saw Dora twitch at the question. She couldn’t remember. Hadn’t she even noticed? Will said the housekeeper usually helped him pick out his clothes and had breakfast ready for him.
“Miss Rosa could tell us,” Taylor offered.
“And who is Miss Rosa?”
“She’s not here right now.” Dora gestured as if the woman was out running errands. Except Taylor remembered Will saying she hadn’t been to work for a while.
“You don’t remember what he was wearing this morning?” Norwich looked up at Dora, waiting.
“He’s at that age where he wants to pick out his own things.”
Norwich waited for more, then finally asked, “Did you see him this morning?”
“Yes, of course. We had breakfast together. I don’t remember exactly. You should ask her when she picked him up.” She pointed at Taylor. “And just for the record, I will be filing charges of kidnapping when Agent Perry arrives.”
“Do you drive him to school?”
Dora was still staring at Taylor. Maybe she thought the questions were done. She glanced back at the sheriff as if irritated by such mundane details. “The bus picks him up.”
“And where is that, exactly?”
“At the entrance to the neighborhood.”
“He walks there?”
“Yes, of course, it’s only a few blocks. That must be where she intercepted him.”
Another glare at Taylor.
“Tell me again, how old is Will?”
“He’s only seven,” Taylor spoke up this time and hated that her voice had been reduced to a whisper. How could Dora not remember what he wore? Was she lying about breakfast? Had she even seen him this morning?
“You’re wasting precious time,” Dora told Norwich. “You should be questioning where she took him. Where she’s hiding him. The fact is —”
“No, Mrs. Ramsey, the fact is when a young child goes missing, the early hours are critical. Each hour decreases the likelihood that he will be found. Your insistence that he was taken by his parent will hamstring my efforts to determine if he’s in immediate danger and even the ability to issue an Amber Alert.”
“You don’t need an Amber Alert. For God’s sake, just look in her apartment above that marina.”
“Mrs. Ramsey, are you refusing to cooperate with this investigation?”
Dora crossed her arms over her chest, clearly upset that Norwich wasn’t listening to her. Finally, she said, “I’ll cooperate with Agent Perry’s.”
Another stare-down. Then Norwich shook her head and turned on her heels. “Ms. Donahue, if I can have a word with you outside.”
Taylor followed her out.
The two deputies waited at a vehicle parked behind Taylor’s. She continued to walk silently alongside the sheriff until they were standing at her SUV.
Norwich pulled out a business card and wrote a number on the back, then handed it to Taylor.
“I need you to send me a photograph of Will. Something casual and something recent would be best. It would be tremendously helpful if we knew what he was wearing this morning.”
“The housekeeper usually helps him get dressed. Will told me on Friday that she hadn’t been around for over a week. But I can tell you he doesn’t go anywhere without his red backpack.”
Norwich slipped the notebook out of her pocket and jotted that down.
“Anything special about it? Logos?”
“No. It just always looks too big for him. He is tall for a seven-year-old. He had a growth spurt this summer.”
“How tall?”
She put her flat hand on her chest next to where she estimated the top of his head came. Norwich wrote in the notebook again.
“His hair is a little darker than mine. Short. A crazy cowlick makes it stick up.” She caught herself smiling, remembering just yesterday trying to help him comb it. “Oh, and he has a new pair of sneakers we bought this weekend. He loves them. I’m sure he wore them this morning. They’re Under Armour. Blue with lime green soles.”
“That’s good,” Norwich nodded. “That’ll help a great deal. Does he have a cell phone?”
“Yes, but he’s not answering. Or the battery is low.” She gave Norwich the number. “It’s new to him. I don’t think he’s in the habit of using it or charging it. He hasn’t even added a personal message for voice mail.”
“Did you buy it for him, or is it under his grandmother’s account?”
Taylor felt a sting at the realization, dropped her chin, and closed her eyes for a couple of seconds. “His grandmother’s.” She knew getting access to his account would be a challenge without Dora’s help.
“Do you know any of his friends at school? Or in the neighborhood.”
As she said it, Norwich looked around the street, and Taylor’s eyes followed. Linden Estates had huge empty lots in various stages of progress. There was a half dozen finished, sprawled across the wide open space. Well-manicured lawns had palm trees and ferns, but there were no bicycles, trampolines, or red wagons. Nothing to signal a child lived in any of the houses.
“Will told me that he has a couple of friends in the neighborhood across the highway, but he’s not allowed to ride his bike there.”
“He has a bicycle. Do you know where he parks it?”
Taylor felt a twinge of hope. Of course. If Will ran away, he would ride his bicycle.”
“I think the garage.”
Norwich nodded, glancing back at the massive four-car garage and scribbling another note to herself.
“I’m going to have you talk with one of my deputies. And we’ll need to see if Will’s bike is still here. You don’t happen to have anything of your son’s in your car with you? An article of clothing? Or a blanket he may have used?”
“I still have his old sneakers. They’re on the floor in the backseat.”
“Those would be perfect. Could you check and get those for me?”
Norwich looked up and waved at another SUV winding its way into the neighborhood. Taylor glanced, then did a double take when she saw Jason. She didn’t know whether to be angry or glad that he hadn’t listened to her.
The sheriff noticed Taylor’s expression and said, “I called them. Dogs can cover twice the ground my entire force can in half the time.”
That’s when Taylor saw Brodie in the passenger seat. A second, almost identical SUV turned in behind Jason’s.