Sufficient Ransom (31 page)

7:00 A.M
.

T
he next morning, Ann was surprised by a visit from Julian Fox. The agent’s casual reaction to the news that Travis had called the night before baffled her. But then again, Ann never could figure out what the man was thinking. Smiling, Julian placed a box of fresh-baked donuts he had brought with him on the kitchen table. He opened the box and lifted out a blueberry-filled donut.

“Please, Julian,” Ann said, impatient for information about Travis. “Do you know where my son is?”

The agent bit into his donut. “Tom’s working the Temecula angle. He asked me to come by and talk to you about some things.”

“What about Travis?”

“I wish I could tell you more, Ann. But Tom asked me to keep my mouth shut. Understand, we’re doing everything we can to protect your son.” Julian licked the thick blueberry filling and took another bite. “I wanted to ask you about—” He wiped blueberry from his lips with a napkin.

Ann was on the edge of her seat. “What?”

Julian’s eyes twinkled. “Calm yourself. This thing’s delicious.” A blob of blueberry slipped from his mouth to the floor.

Before her son had disappeared, Ann would have swooped down with a wad of paper towels and a bottle of bleach, and scrubbed the stain into oblivion. Watching Julian wipe the floor with his napkin, she smiled inwardly at what a compulsive freak she used to be.

“The Villarreals,” the agent finally said.

“What about them?”

Julian swallowed the last of the donut and wiped the powdered sugar from his fingers with a clean paper napkin. “I understand you talked to them recently.”

“I saw them at church with Todd Pannikin,” Ann said. “But they made it clear they weren’t interested in talking to me.”

“I would have thought with your New Way involvement lately, and their being members, that they’d be friendlier,” Julian said.

“I don’t know why, but Mrs. Villarreal dislikes me,” Ann said. “I gave them my number, but they never called. It’s like they want to have nothing to do with me.”

Julian threw his crumpled napkin on the table. “It can’t hurt to try again.”

“Why should I bother?”

“You might learn something.”

“Like what?”

“Like why they’re suddenly joined at the hip with Pannikin.”

“Pastor Todd’s their spiritual guide and all.” Ann nodded, thinking. “I suppose I could try calling on them.”

“If Ms. Garcia came along, Mrs. Villarreal might be more inclined to open up,” Julian said.

“Why would you think that?”

“Ms. Garcia’s from Mexico, as they are,” Julian said. “That chain around her neck speaks to her religious devotion. Like I said, the Villarreals are quite the churchgoers these days.”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Ann thought for a moment. “About Pastor Pannikin, Richard and I have a theory we wanted to share with you and Tom.”

Julian reached for another donut. “I’m listening.”

C
HAPTER
27

Wednesday, October 31

9:00 A.M
.

T
he next morning, Ann and Kika were ushered into the Villarreal’s sitting room by a middle-aged woman with dark hair and pleasant eyes, apparently a servant. After offering them refreshments, which they both declined, the woman said that Señora Villarreal would be with them shortly.

Ann’s restless eyes travelled the space. Chairs in shades of mauve and tan, some plush and deep, others straight and made of dark wood, were clustered around a wide coffee table strewn with magazines. A silver tray on the long buffet under the lightly curtained window held a crystal decanter and glasses. The whole effect of the space was that of a dentist’s waiting room, proper and clean, but dull and impersonal.

While they waited for Reyna Villarreal, Ann thought of Travis. The world before he called was a blur of pain and emptiness. Since her son’s call, color had been restored to her mood, to her perceptions, in brilliant strokes. Travis needed her to be strong. And Richard too. Guilt-ridden Ann would be no more. And the forgiveness she craved? Ann realized
that she alone had the power to forgive herself. When Travis came home, she would allow herself that last gift.

The door pushed open and Reyna Villarreal entered the room. After acknowledging Ann with a nod and a quiet hello, she turned to Kika with an inquiring look. Reyna Villarreal, Ann thought, with a touch of bitterness, hadn’t changed. She was still unfriendly.

Reyna seated herself next to Kika. In the rapid Spanish that followed between Reyna and Kika, Reyna seemed to relax. A few minutes later, Kika turned to Ann. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you out. Reyna was just telling me…” She told Ann of the small talk she and Reyna had exchanged, most of it about Mexico.

Ann waved them on. “Please go on. I like the sound of your language. It’s beautiful.” If Kika could draw information out of Reyna Villarreal, Ann would be satisfied.

After a while, her hostess made an effort to include Ann in the conversation. Switching to English, she talked about the efforts being made to find her little girl. Reyna, Ann noted, spoke emotionally but guardedly. Ann was glad Reyna didn’t ask about Travis. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep the fact that he had phoned a secret.

At a lull in the conversation Ann remembered Julian’s suggestion to talk about New Way. Bringing up a friendly subject they both had in common might get Reyna to open up. “I understand you attend New Way Evangelical Church,” she said.

The sanctimonious tone in Reyna’s voice, as she launched into a soliloquy about what the church meant to her, took Ann by surprise. Pastors Todd and Chet, Reyna explained, were her best friends. They gave her hope, they called her every day. When she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house to attend church, the pastors prayed with her on the phone. The pair had convinced Reyna that it was just a matter of time before she would get her daughter back. They said that God loved Reyna’s family and would do everything in His power to reward their devotion with Sabela’s return.

Ann’s initial reaction to Reyna Villarreal’s talk about New Way was
bullshit
. Her second reaction was one of guilt. Hadn’t Chet and Pastor
Todd done their best to help her too? Searching for Travis, the church vigil, and the prayer meetings. Asking nothing for himself, Chet had done everything possible to guide her to comfort in Jesus. So what if Reyna Villarreal was carrying on like a brainwashed zealot? Who was Ann to judge another person’s ability to cope?

Ann remembered other things she had heard about New Way, but had never focused on before. Like the tithing program. She glanced around at the costly furniture in Reyna’s home, the plush flooring. New Way’s cut must be at least in the high five figures each year. At a break in Reyna’s soliloquy, Ann asked her hostess if she would be attending New Way’s annual retreat in the San Bernardino Mountains this coming weekend.

Reyna nodded shyly. “These days I’m only really comfortable around other church members.” The next thing she said seemed to come from nowhere. “The first thing I’ll do when we get Sabela back is to baptize her.”

“You mean you never did?” Ann asked, unsure why Reyna was telling them this seemingly insignificant fact.

Reyna looked ashamed. “We intended to, but we were so busy with the move to San Diego and a million other things. When my sister in-law found out we had pushed the ceremony off again she was so angry.”

“Why would your sister-in-law be angry your daughter wasn’t baptized?” Kika asked.

“My husband’s brother and his wife—Gabrielle’s her name—assumed we were going to baptize Sabela right away. We had talked about it with them. But it was such a crazy time, moving from New York. We figured we would get to it. Gabrielle kept asking me when we were going to do it. She was always butting in and telling us what to do with our Sabela. They can’t have children of their own—Gabrielle’s as barren as the Chihuahua Desert. Out of spite, I told her that maybe we wouldn’t baptize Sabela after all.”

Reyna gathered a fold in her skirt and twisted it with both hands. “Gabrielle didn’t think we respected God enough because we hadn’t
been to church for a while. In the end, she accused us of endangering Sabela’s salvation.” Reyna pressed her hand to her mouth until she was ready to speak again. Then she said,
“So you see. The closer we are to God, the greater benefit to Sabela.”

Chet’s baptism videos had clued Ann in to the importance of the rite to evangelicals. Still, there was something about Gabrielle’s reaction to the question of her niece’s baptism that bothered Ann. Maybe it was like Reyna said—her in laws couldn’t have children of their own so they had nothing better to do than meddle with the children of others. Ann cast a furtive glance at Kika. Sort of like what Kika had done with Travis.

Reyna’s voice took on a peevish tone. “It was just a misunderstanding. My sister-in-law meant well. It was my husband and I who had lost sight of Jesus.” She reached for the tissue box on the coffee table. “If I had been a more attentive mother, none of this would have happened.”

Ann leaned in, her voice compassionate but firm. “We have to remember that we didn’t bring this on ourselves. We didn’t ask for our children to be taken.” Her own words gave her pause. Hadn’t she convinced herself that Travis’s disappearance was her fault?

“The first thing I’ll do when I get Sabela back is baptize her,” Reyna said with a firm nod. “I won’t take any more chances with my daughter’s life.”

Ann knew that she too would never leave Travis’s safety to chance again. But baptizing him? The idea had never occurred to her.

Kika asked if Reyna had reconciled with her in-laws since Sabela disappeared. No surprise there. Gabrielle and her husband were very supportive, their fight over Sabela long forgotten.

10:30 A.M
.

A
fter they left Reyna Villarreal, Kika asked Ann to lunch at La Jolla Shores. On the drive to the beach, Ann thought of the Villarreals and their in-laws. Their family problems reminded her of Nora and Chet; how Chet had bullied his mother about Jesus. It must have been strange for Nora to have to put up with that from her own son, considering it was likely she’d had a similar problem with a man she had once loved, and with whom she’d had a baby.

Ann’s thoughts turned to Pastor Todd. The pastor seemed to want to shelter the Villarreals from everyone, including her. Señor Villarreal had even sought Todd’s approval before speaking to her. Pannikin’s recent behavior reminded her that Nora once said Chet and Todd were religious fanatics. At the time, Ann thought Nora was just bitter that her son preferred the church to the exclusion of pretty much everything else. The truth was that Chet and Todd’s lives did seem to revolve around one idea, namely saving others through Jesus. Chet had said so himself.

Kika parked in the lot fronting the ocean. Waves crashed on the beach. Seagulls circled the sand. Late morning surfers dotted the blue-green water like giant birds on floating boards. Ann breathed in the fresh air in big gulps. Travis was alive and the world was once again a benevolent place.

After paying for their food at the Beach Café, Ann and Kika settled themselves at a table next to the boardwalk. The few hours of sleep Ann was averaging each night were starting to take a toll on her body. Her joints aching, she eased herself onto the seat. “I can’t stop thinking about Chet’s reaction to his mother’s will,” she said to her friend. She pushed a plastic straw through the lid of her iced tea. “He was so mad.”

Kika pulled the wrapper off her fish taco. “He was probably expecting to get more. You said Nora left twenty million dollars in trust for her daughter who had died?”

Ann nodded. She was silent for a moment. “You know. There are other things about Nora’s past I haven’t told you about.”

Kika put her Diet Coke down. “Like what?”

Ann explained that Nora had moved to Mexico after graduating from college. That apparently Nora had lived there with an American—a Christian missionary. That their daughter had died shortly after birth. Soon after returning to the States, Nora married Peter March. Pastor Todd was an old friend of Nora’s from her school days. He had worked in Mexico as a missionary. “Maybe,” Ann surmised, “Pastor Todd was Nora’s missionary lover.”

“So what if they were?” Kika said.

Ann swallowed a mouthful of burger. “In the letters that police found in Nora’s safe—” She suddenly remembered that she had promised Tom Long she would keep the information he had shared with her private.

Kika’s face had crinkled into a questioning frown.

“What’s wrong?” Ann asked.

“Todd Pannikin was a missionary in Mexico,” Kika said. “It reminded me of…”

“What?”

Kika pushed her food away. “I don’t know…”

Ann was growing impatient. “What?”

“My birth father was a Christian missionary in Mexico.”

Ann’s eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t know that.”

“After Antonia died,” Kika said, “I came across an album of photos and news clippings of Nora and her husband. I thought they were my mother’s friends. But Nora had never heard of Antonia, much less known her.”

Ann had a sudden feeling that Kika was about to tell her something important. “Nora mentioned that you came to San Diego to meet her.”

“No. Not to meet her specifically. I quit my job in Boston,” Kika said. “I was bored and wanted a change. I considered going to Santa Barbara to work for a friend who had started a non-profit. Max wanted me to live in Tijuana with him. I couldn’t bring myself to settle in Mexico again; I was pretty much done with the place after high school. So I settled on San Diego. It was close to Tijuana—Max and I could see each other
whenever we wanted. But the question of why my mother had collected all those pictures and articles about Nora and her husband nagged at me. It wasn’t a few photographs, mind you, but albums full.”

“That is weird,” Ann agreed.

Kika went on. “Through the Internet, I discovered that Nora was a wealthy philanthropist and a trustee of the San Diego County Orphanage. I was intrigued. You see, I had worked at an orphanage in high school and summers, during college.” A hint of a smile settled on her lips. “I had met Max at an orphanage. I’d devoted my life to helping children and here was this philanthropist lady who my mother supposedly knew. I applied to the orphanage as a volunteer so I could meet Nora.” Kika’s eyes filled with tears.