It Only Takes a Moment (25 page)

E
liza got off the phone with Stephanie Quick and went directly to talk with Agents Gebhardt and Laggie, telling them about Stephanie’s vision of the waterfall.

“Look, Eliza,” said Agent Laggie. “We haven’t wanted to get your hopes up again for nothing. But we do have a match on fingerprints found on a piece of construction paper in a parking lot north of Camp Musquapsink.”

“What kind of a match?” asked Eliza.

“A match to Janie. We think the paper is part of a headpiece Janie was wearing for Native American Day at camp.”

“Oh my God,” Eliza said excitedly. “This is the first direct link we’ve had so far.”

“Right,” said Agent Laggie. “And we’ve also identified another print on the paper.”

Eliza waited.

“It belongs to a guy in Manhattan. Know anyone by the name of Carl Yates?”

Eliza thought, then shook her head solemnly.

“Well, we have agents on the way to his apartment now.”

Eliza found Mack and told him the news. Together, they went to the computer and Googled “Carl Yates.” Over three thousand entries appeared.

“We just have to wait and let the FBI do their job, honey,” said Mack as he reached out and took her hand.

“I know,” said Eliza, “but I feel like I’m coming out of my skin.”

She went back to find Agent Laggie.

“Where is the parking lot where the headband was found?” she asked.

He showed her on the map.

The parking lot was situated in a spot that could be on a route taken from Camp Musquapsink to Milford, Pennsylvania.

As Eliza waited to hear about the raid on Carl Yates’s apartment, she told Mack about her dream.

“It was the worst,” said Eliza, leaning her head on his shoulder. “It felt so real, as if I were really kneeling at her casket. I was about to pull back that bridal veil and I knew I was going to see Janie’s face beneath it. Thank God I woke up.”

Mack put his arm around her and held her close. “Let’s hope that’s going to be the last nightmare you have, sweetheart. Let’s hope the FBI is on their way to Janie and Mrs. Garcia right now and that they’ll be back home soon.”

J
anie Blake and Carmen Garcia were not at Carl Yates’s apartment nor was there any sign that they ever had been. Carl Yates was not in the apartment, either.

When FBI agents searched the premises, they found knives, rope, diving gear, Navy SEAL training manuals, and a catalog of Halloween masks. They also found a map on the kitchen table with a big red circle drawn around the area of Milford, Pennsylvania.

E
liza could tell by the expression on Agent Gebhardt’s face that the news wasn’t good.

“Janie wasn’t there,” she said. “But try not to worry. We’ll find Carl Yates and we’ll find Janie.” Agent Gebhardt didn’t tell Eliza about the map.

She withheld the information for two reasons. First, she didn’t want the news to get out that the FBI was now increasing its investigation in the Milford area. Secrecy was of the essence. If word got out, Yates, if he was up there, would flee. Second, she didn’t want Eliza harping about the psychic and her damned letter
M
.

Try not to worry.
That was the same as saying try not to breathe. The same as telling Janie to try not to hiccup when she was scared.

Eliza walked to the back of the house and looked out the French doors to the yard. She loved Mack and knew that Mack cared deeply about Janie. But Mack wasn’t Janie’s father. Eliza wished that John was with her now. Would John think she was handling all this in the right
way? Was there something else she could be doing to make sure their little girl came home safely?

Please, John. If you have any pull up there, make sure Janie is all right and that we get her back.

As she watched the sunlight playing on the water of the swimming pool, their honeymoon came to her mind. It had been short. She hadn’t been able to get much time off from work and neither had he. Instead of a trip to Europe or Hawaii, they had settled for three days at Niagara Falls.

She had never regretted it, never felt that she had missed out on some sort of grander wedding trip. Those three days had been magical. They had stayed at a charming bed-and-breakfast in a lovely Victorian house where the owners were thrilled to have the newlyweds and made sure they were afforded the utmost privacy. They had taken the boat rides to see the majestic cascades of pounding, falling water, toured a winery where samples were handed out freely, and strolled hand in hand, laughing about the wedding and talking about the life they hoped for together.

It had been all ahead of them then, with no thoughts of fatal diseases or kidnappings. It had been the sweetest three days of her life.

Eliza closed her eyes and tried to keep focused on that time. She didn’t want to snap out of her reverie and face the present cruel reality. She wanted to stay with John, if only in her mind, and feel like she was back there, hiking in Niagara Falls State Park to the point beneath Bridal Veil Falls, where he had told her again and again how much he loved her.

Her eyes snapped open.

Bridal Veil Falls.

Bridal Veil!

She remembered that the name came from the effect caused by the strong winds blowing against the water falling from the sheer cliff, making it look like a bride’s white veil and train. There were waterfalls known as “bridal veils” all around the world.

Eliza ran up the stairs and searched the Internet for waterfalls near Milford, Pennsylvania. There were several listed in that mountainous region near the Delaware River. She searched further and found the image of a vintage postcard that showed frothy white waterfalls cascading down a steep rock cliff.

The caption read:
LOWER FALLS ON RAYMONDSKILL AND BRIDAL VEIL.

It was located three miles outside the center of town.

I
n the county park, Rhonda sat in her car, looking through the front window. A mother duck and three ducklings were gliding through the pond’s smooth water. Rhonda smiled as she ran her fingers over the knife’s smooth blade.

“Look, Janie,” she said. “Do you see the ducks, honey?”

Rhonda’s pleasure was cut short when she thought of her husband. Dave had had to leave for the night shift not knowing where his wife and child were—or if they were coming back. He should be very worried about her and Janie by now.

When he’d come out of the shower last night, after their fight, she’d been gone. If he’d searched the house and found that she had taken Zippy with her, he must have realized that she hadn’t just run out to the store with Janie. They meant to be gone for quite a while.

Dave had to accept that she was serious about her commitment to Janie, that she would never let anyone or anything take her daughter from her, and that nobody could stop her from talking about her precious girl. Janie was part of their lives to stay—and Dave just had to get used to it.

Thinking about all this was exhausting. Rhonda laid her head back against the seat and fell asleep.

A patrolling county police officer rapped on the glass until Rhonda opened her eyes. She rolled down the window.

“License and registration, ma’am.”

As she leaned over to rifle through the glove compartment, Rhonda realized that the knife had fallen to the floor. She didn’t think the policeman had seen it. She found the documents and handed them over. The officer inspected the paperwork.

After a conversation with her, the officer insisted that he escort Rhonda home. Meekly, Rhonda got out of her car and into the police cruiser, leaving the knife behind.

Dave had called in sick and spent the night cruising around town looking for his wife. Exhausted and discouraged, he headed home. He would call Dr. Karas and see what he thought would help Rhonda. Things couldn’t go on this way.

Dave’s heart sank when he turned into his street. He hadn’t wanted to get the police involved. But now, he saw it was too late. A police vehicle was parked outside their house. A cop was escorting Rhonda up the walk.

Resigned now, Dave knew that Rhonda needed to be hospitalized. Her delusion of having Janie Blake as her daughter had gotten completely out of hand.

N
ews vans, satellite trucks, and camera crews continued to line the street in front of Eliza’s home.

Mack told the FBI agents that Eliza needed to get out of the house for a while to clear her head and that he was going to take her for a ride.

“We’ll both have our cells,” he said, “so you can reach us. But we’re going to need some help getting out of here without the news people following us.”

A car pulled slowly out of the driveway. Reporters and cameramen strained to see inside, recognizing Mack McBride in the driver’s seat. The passenger side was empty, as was the backseat.

“Stop a minute, Mack.”

“Give us something, will you, Mack?”

“Come on, Mack. You know what it’s like. How ’bout a sound bite?”

Mack resolutely ignored the pleas of his colleagues and drove away.

After traveling a few miles, he found a secluded place at the side of the road and pulled over. He popped the trunk and Eliza got out.

When they were on the New York State Thruway, Eliza called Annabelle and told her where they were going and explained why.

“Of course I can’t be completely sure,” she said. “But every time I mention anything that comes from the psychic, the FBI brushes me off. If they aren’t going to pay attention to Stephanie’s visions, I will. My gut tells me to go to Raymondskill Falls. If you and B.J. can figure out a way to meet us there without telling anyone, you might end up with some award-winning coverage, or else you’ll simply have footage that makes me look like a crazy woman. Either way, Linus will be thrilled.”

“T
his was never supposed to play out this way!” she cried as she paced the living room floor. “Nobody was ever supposed to get hurt and now two people are dead.”

“It couldn’t be helped and I’m glad I did it. That guy who was snooping around had the brat’s necklace in his pocket, for God’s sake. And keep your voice down, would you? She’s sleeping in there.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t like
that,
either,” she said. “A child doesn’t sleep as much as she does unless something’s wrong. If it turns out that we end up killing Janie Blake, you can rest assured that we will end up dead ourselves. We have to wrap this thing up and we have to wrap it up
now.
”

“I guess you’re right,” he said grudgingly. “But I’m not the only one who didn’t follow the plan. You were supposed to send that ransom demand but you never did. When this is all over, the FBI’s going to wonder why the kid was taken if it wasn’t for the money.”

As he went to the bedroom to get the child, she went to the Jeep and took the gun from the glove compartment. He wouldn’t need it if all he
was doing was dropping off Janie—and she didn’t want him to have an opportunity to use it.

A half hour after the kidnapper left the house, an anonymous call, giving detailed directions on where Eliza Blake’s daughter could be found, came in to the Find Janie hotline.

E
liza and Mack traveled along the quaint downtown street, passing Ann’s Candy Kitchen and the Milford Diner. Eliza rocked in her seat, willing the car to move forward. She reached into her pocket for the zodiac medallion Stephanie had given her and focused all her mental attention on Janie.

“Make a left on Route Six,” the electronic voice instructed. The GPS tracking system told them they were just about three miles from their destination.

Three miles until they got to the Bridal Veil at Raymondskill Falls.

H
e parked the Jeep in front of the cinder-block building that housed the restrooms and waited inside the vehicle until the only other car in the lot drove away. He reached into the glove compartment, but his gun wasn’t there. Cursing, he got out and lifted Janie from her seat. He carried her down the trail that led to the waterfall.

The roar of rushing water blocked out the sound of the approaching car.

As the rental car pulled into the restroom parking lot, Eliza’s cell phone rang. It was Agent Gebhardt with the details of the anonymous hotline call, as well as the call from the pharmacist in Milford about a man asking for hiccup medication.

“We’ve got agents on the way to Raymondskill Falls now,” said Gebhardt.

“That’s where we are!” cried Eliza.

“What?” shouted Gebhardt. “You said you were just going for a ride. Stay right where you are. Wait for our agents to get there.”

Eliza had snapped her phone closed.

At first, Mack tried to hold her back, but Eliza made her way as quickly as she could down the fern- and moss-covered trail. Large rocks, exposed tree roots, and rotted stumps sabotaged the descent. Along the path there were warning signs.

STAY ON THE TRAIL. STAY OFF THE ROCKS. STAY AWAY FROM THE EDGE.

As she heard the sound of the rushing water grow more intense, Eliza was filled with apprehension for her child.

Wet rocks are slippery. A fall could injure you. A sudden dunking could drown you.

Janie heard the sound of rushing water over the words of the kidnapper. “Now wait here,” he said. “Somebody will be here to get you soon.”

“My mommy?” asked Janie as he steered her, blindfolded, into a crevice near the pool at the top of the waterfall.

The kidnapper’s attention was diverted by a movement in the distance. He pushed Janie to the ground, turned, and ran as the child struggled to free herself from her bonds.

“Look,” cried Eliza, pointing to the figure scrambling up the rocks on the other side of the waterfall.

She started running, Mack right behind her.

“He’s alone,” Eliza called over her shoulder.

“I’ll follow him,” Mack panted. “You see if you can find Janie.”

At the top of the trail, agents wearing FBI Windbreakers sprang from their cars and began sprinting toward the waterfall.

“Janie! Janie!” Eliza’s voice reverberated through the mountain air.

She picked her way across the rocks, losing her balance and then righting herself, her eyes searching the area. She looked down and there it was. The white cascade of frothy, rushing water, falling inevitably to the rock formation below. The Bridal Veil.

Could he have pushed Janie? Was that what the vision in her dream meant? Janie in death, swallowed up by a bride’s snowy veil? Was Janie down there under the pounding water?

Mack’s fingers grasped at vegetation as he climbed. He tucked his head as rocks tumbled from above him, the falling stones a sign that the kidnapper was overhead.

Turning his head for just an instant, Mack looked down.
A fall from this height would kill a man or, at the very least, paralyze him for life.

He kept climbing, trying to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. The man who had taken Janie was up there and he was determined not to let him get away.

Mack heard the booming call.

“FBI. Stop or we’ll shoot!”

Dear God, did they think
he
was the kidnapper? From where they stood down there, they wouldn’t be able to tell who he was.

A shot rang out. And then another.

The kidnapper reached the top and began running across the ridge. He ducked as the first shot was fired, losing his footing. He tried to right himself. The second shot rang out. Still, they had missed him.

The feds didn’t know who they were up against. He had received better training than even they had.

Full of his final hubris, his feet skidded across the slippery rocks. He struggled to keep his balance but slipped, falling through the air, his body ending up splayed across the rocks at the bottom of the waterfall.

Eliza watched the man’s body sailing downward, but averted her eyes before he crashed.

“Janie. Janie?” she called out desperately. “Janie, it’s Mommy. Where are you, sweetheart?”

“Here she is.”

Eliza swung around in the direction of the voice. She saw an FBI agent, coming from the trees, carrying her little girl in his arms.