Ill be home for christma.., p.17
I'll Be Home For Christmas, page 17
Holly arched an eyebrow at the older lady. “What?”
“Never mind. Please hand me the phone.”
Doing as Marian requested, Holly exchanged looks with Nadine, who shrugged in return.
Marian dialed quickly and waited a moment for someone to answer her call, then said urgently, “Joe, can you and Eli come over to my house? I know who is behind all this.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Joe placed the phone back in its cradle and exhaled. “Let’s go, Eli. Marian says she knows who was behind her kidnapping and wants us to come right away.”
“That was fast. Who is it?”
“She didn’t say, but we need to find out before whoever it was realizes she’s home and tries again.”
Glad that the case might soon be solved, they walked to the temporary vehicle Joe was driving until his own truck was fixed or replaced. Driving in total silence, each man lost in his own thoughts, they arrived at Marian’s house fifteen minutes later.
Before they even reached the front steps, the door swung open and Nadine was standing there motioning them inside. After a quick peck on her cheek, Joe walked over to Marian, who was still sitting on the sofa, a dazed look on her face.
“Here we are, Marian. What do you have to tell us?” Joe asked gently, noticing the look of shock on Marian’s usually smiling face.
She shifted her gaze to Joe. “I’m pretty sure I know who ordered my kidnapping, but I have no idea why.”
Careful not to rush her but wanting desperately to make her tell him, he said gently, “Tell me about it.”
To the astonishment of everyone present—Joe, Eli, Nadine, and Holly—Marian laid out her theory and the evidence to back it up.
Joe chewed his lip and looked at Eli, who was nodding toward him. “Makes sense,” Eli said. “The ‘why’ is still a big question, though.”
“It sure is. I guess we better go find out,” Joe agreed. With that, they stood and walked out into the cold, Christmas Eve air in search of the person who’d ordered Marian to be held hostage just days before Christmas.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Kris Jingle sat with his parents in their living room, gaping at the TV after Carol had just given the report on Marian’s safe return.
“How did she know Henry Feinstein was a suspect?” James Jingle asked, stroking his full, white beard. “From what I understand, Joe has been pretty tight-lipped about the investigation. I can’t imagine that he’d go shooting his mouth off to a reporter.”
Kris felt his face burning and could only imagine what shade of red it was. A sick feeling began in the pit of his stomach. He knew how Carol had known, because he’s the one who told her they suspected Henry to begin with. It had been he who saw Henry Feinstein in the back of the cruiser, and he told her about it.
“Son, are you okay?” James said, concern marring his face.
Managing a slow nod, Kris finally was finally able to form the word “yes” in his mouth, which suddenly was dry.
Just as a concerned mother would, Patricia stood from her chair and sat next to Kris on the sofa, placing a comforting hand on his forearm. “Kris, what is it?” she urged.
Swallowing over the lump in his throat, he squeaked, “It’s me. I’m the source.”
“The source? You mean you’re the one that gave Carol the information she used in her report?” The disapproval on James’s face made Kris want to find a hole to slink into.
Kris nodded. “I saw him in the cruiser with Joe and Eli heading toward the station, but I didn’t know she would tell the whole world. At least she didn’t mention that I’m the one who told her… at least, not yet.”
James shook his head. “You can’t trust these people, son. They only care about getting the story, not the people who help them along the way.”
Kris stiffened. “That’s not fair, Dad. Carol is a very thoughtful person.”
Snorting his disagreement, James settled back into his green-and-red-plaid chair and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “She used you. She used you and was so convincing that she has you believing she actually cares about you.”
Of the emotions vying for the primary spot, anger finally won, and Kris leapt from his spot on the sofa. “That’s not true!” he shouted. “She wasn’t using me. Carol cares about me. I know she does.”
A knock at the door stopped the shouting, and Patricia went to answer it while father and son glared at each other. Several seconds later, Patricia re-entered the living room, trailed by WGNN reporter Carol Ling.
“Carol, I just saw your report,” Kris said, unable to keep a hint of betrayal out of his voice.
She stepped toward him and grasped his hands in hers. “I can explain.”
From his chair, James snorted again.
Patricia cleared her throat and whispered, “James, why don’t we give these two some privacy?”
“What for?” he growled. “This is my house.”
Shooting him a warning look, Patricia jerked her head toward the kitchen, communicating that James had better follow her, or else…
“Go on,” Kris challenged. “Start explaining.”
“You know I usually get the fluff pieces, the soft news. Nobody respects or even cares about my stories. I’ve never gotten the chance to do a real news story before. When this landed in my lap, I thought I could use the things you told me to beef up the story. The sheriff’s department certainly wasn’t giving me anything.” She tilted her head and looked at Kris with pleading eyes. “You aren’t mad, are you?”
Kris felt his fury begin to evaporate, and he sighed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I feel right now. If you had just asked for help, I would have done anything I could to give you the information you need. Now it just feels like you used me to get information on a story you were doing.”
“Kris…” Carol began but didn’t continue.
“You have to admit how this looks.”
Carol nodded in agreement, her black hair bouncing as her head bobbed. “I do. But nobody knows where I got the information, and nobody is going to know. I won’t say a word. I promise.” She leaned against his chest and looped her arms around his waist.
Kris stiffened.
The sound of someone banging on the door startled them and Kris pulled away.
Patricia rushed from the kitchen and through the living room. “Don’t mind me,” she said quickly as she made her way toward the front door. A minute later, Kris’s mother, always supportive, stood in the background as Sheriff Adler and Deputy Nolan walked into the living room. The stern look on their faces communicated that someone was in trouble, and Kris had the distinct feeling that someone found out he was the one Carol got the information from.
Kris felt sweat begin to dampen his armpits as he watched Joe pull handcuffs from his belt. Surely giving information to Carol hadn’t been so bad a crime that he’d be arrested, though it did seem that ending up in handcuffs was becoming a Christmas tradition for him.
Joe spoke first, taking a step toward Kris and Carol. “Carol Ling, I’m placing you under arrest for kidnapping and assault.”
Kris’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m afraid so,” Joe said, then led Carol out of the house, reciting the Miranda warning while the others looked on in shocked horror.
“I knew she was up to no good,” James said triumphantly, only to be elbowed in the ribs by Patricia.
Kris sank back onto the couch, his face buried in his hands. “This is the worst Christmas ever!” he wailed, though he had to admit that, deep down, he’d known there was something off about Carol from the beginning.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Joe slid into a chair across the table from Carol Ling in the interrogation room at the station. Here was a slender woman, about five feet four inches, with long black hair and almond-shaped eyes that invited him to trust her.
Nobody would ever suspect somebody like her to be the mastermind of a kidnapping plot, he thought as he worked out in his head how he would begin questioning her.
Carol shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she subconsciously picked at her thumbnail. This was certainly not where she’d expect to be on Christmas Eve. Though she wouldn’t have been there if she hadn’t broken the law.
Clearing his throat, Joe began with the most basic question he could think of to connect her to the kidnapping case. “So, tell me how you ended up reporting on Marian Bright’s kidnapping when you were supposed to be in Saddle Hill covering the town’s Christmas festivities.”
Carol shrugged and stopped picking at her thumbnail. “Luck of the draw, I guess. Since I was already here, I figured, why not? Our station very rarely gets to cover hard-hitting news stories.”
“We’re the Good News Network.”
“Exactly,” Carol agreed fervently. “We’re never taken seriously, and honestly, I’m shocked that more people don’t tune in to watch the stories we cover. The world is full of awful things, and those have plenty of media coverage. The good things that happen and the good people who make a difference every day… those are the stories people need to be hearing. Honestly, I think there would be less anxiety and depression in the world if the bad stuff was balanced by the good stuff.”
“I agree with you about that,” Joe said, then followed it with a challenge. “What I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around is why your station—and you in particular—would be interested in covering a kidnapping. That doesn’t sound much like good news. In fact, it sounds like more of the stuff you just said is causing anxiety and depression.”
Carol leaned forward and placed her palms on the table. “That’s just it. Things could have worked out really bad for Marian. I mean, who knows what that deranged man had planned for her. But instead of harm coming to her, you rescued her. It’s a wonderful human-interest story. A well-loved pillar of the community goes missing, only to be rescued from an unknown outcome by local law enforcement. That’s the kind of story people truly crave. Dire situations with happy endings.” Satisfied that she’d pled her case well, Carol leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
Pressing his lips together and nodding, Joe finally said, “I can see that. I know I love happy endings. Almost everyone does. But I’m not so sure this one has a happy ending. In fact, I don’t think the end of this story has even been written yet.”
A frown crept between Carol’s eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, we don’t believe Vito Franks was working alone.” Joe leaned forward to close the gap between them. “Tell me, Ms. Ling, how did you know that Marian was gagged and tied to a chair?”
Fear flitted across Carol’s face, then disappeared as quickly as it came. “I’m a reporter, Sheriff Adler. It’s my job to dig up information about stories.”
“Then please, tell me where you got this information.”
Carol huffed indignantly. “Surely you know that I won’t reveal my sources.”
“Assuming there is an actual source,” Joe challenged.
Her mouth forming a hard, straight line, Carol spat, “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, let’s try this out for the ending of the story.” Joe leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers on the table in front of him. “Vito Franks is a nice guy, but down on his luck, making him ripe for the picking as a fall guy. Let’s say somebody knows this about him and decides he would be the perfect person to hire to carry out the plan to kidnap Marian Bright. He’s in a financial crisis, so of course he accepts the offer. Unfortunately for the person who hired him, Vito has a soft spot for doing the right thing, and after three days of holding Marian hostage, he decides he wants to let her go.”
“Interesting theory, but this is sounding more like fiction than fact,” Carol sneered. “Maybe you should consider a career in storytelling.”
“Or in the news media,” Joe shot back.
Carol glared at him. “Funny, but don’t consider being a stand-up comic.”
“Oh, that’s cute,” Joe said, his dislike for this beautiful woman growing with each passing moment. “Let’s finish this story. So, good-hearted Vito decides to let Marian go, but the person that hired him shows up just before he can get her out the door. She bonks him on the head and knocks him out, then ties Marian up and gags her.”
“We already know that she was tied up and gagged, thanks to my source.” Carol smiled triumphantly, clearly under the impression that she’d won.
“Yes, and kudos to you for knowing that. The only problem is, no one knew except us, Marian, and whoever tied her up. Think about how that makes you look.”
Carol’s eyes flashed and her face flushed red. “What exactly are you accusing me of?”
“Let’s see how this ending works for the story.” He unlaced his fingers and tapped an index finger on the table. “You got sick of playing second fiddle to your colleagues that report actual news stories. My guess is that they make fun of you because you report the fluffy stories. You know, the kind that make people feel warm and fuzzy about life. Instead of sticking with the stories you’re assigned to, you decided to manufacture a story that would earn you a little more credibility as a reporter. How does that sound?”
With a flash of bravado, Carol clapped condescendingly. “Very good, Sheriff. The only problem with that theory is that you have no proof.”
Joe smirked. “Except for one thing. We have eyewitness testimony.”
Her eyes widening, Carol swallowed hard. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice coming out in a squeak.
“Afraid so. Marian recognized your movements. We’ve got you.”
Carol’s steely resolve had broken. Tears began streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean any harm!” she wailed. “I just wanted to make a name for myself. You’re right, other reporters do poke fun at me for only reporting things that make the viewer feel good. They say I’m missing out on the most important facts. I just wanted a chance to prove I could do more.”
Confession obtained, Joe stood and pushed his chair back, switched off the recorder, and exited the interrogation room. He’d alert Eli that the jail would have another resident, then fill out the necessary paperwork.
He’d done his job. Marian was home, Vito Franks and Carol Ling were now behind bars, and the town could continue with its Christmas celebrations.
Glancing at the clock, Joe noted that there were only a few more hours of Christmas Eve left. He signed his name to the bottom of the paperwork, hummed a few bars of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” then walked out of the station, proud that because of his and Eli’s hard work, Marian could say the same thing.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Christmas Day
Christmas began clear and bright, the snow glistening in the morning sun. Marian had spent hours sitting next to her Christmas tree, drinking coffee with eggnog creamer, thankful that she was home.
Now, she sat surrounded by the people she loved most. The tradition of sharing Christmas dinner together began last year after Ralph’s star had been recovered and the thieves arrested. Marian, sitting in the seat of honor this year, glanced from face to face. Her friends were even more like family this year. Nadine, radiant with the expectant glow of motherhood, sat next to Joe, who, for good reason, looked pretty proud of himself.
He should be, Marian mused. I wouldn’t be sitting here tonight if it wasn’t for him.
Holly sat next to Eli, their hands entwined under the table. Love was in the air, and Marian knew Eli had purchased a ring from Ralph and planned to propose to Holly on New Year’s Eve.
Ralph and Carla Stockton, the newlyweds of the group, still beamed at each other. Carla’s efforts to find her warmed Marian’s soul. Though they hadn’t been great friends before, Marian had a feeling that was about to change.
James and Patricia Jingle looked much more comfortable with each other than they had a year ago at this time. James had settled in nicely to being a “civilian,” as he preferred to call wearing regular clothes. Marian was proud of the progress he’d made.
The outlier of the group was Kris. Marian didn’t think he could look more depressed and dejected than if he’d lost everyone and everything he cared about. In a sense, she guessed he had. News had traveled fast that his girlfriend was the one behind Marian’s kidnapping, and it was rumored that Kris felt stupid and embarrassed for being taken in by a pretty face and used to get information about Marian and the kidnapping for her reports. How could he not feel that way? Carol Ling was a cold woman, a pretty face that had sucked in a man who was vulnerable to flattery. Marian unconsciously shook her head. Poor Kris.
As her gaze drifted farther down the table, her joy wavered. There was someone else she wanted to see at the table. Vito hadn’t been a bad guy, and he’d treated her well. After only three days together, she considered him a friend.
He should be here, she told herself, feeling guilty that she had something to do with him being in jail. She shook her head. Of course it wasn’t her fault. He’s the one that made the choice to kidnap her and hold her hostage for three days.
But he’d also made the choice to let her go, and gotten clubbed on the head for his effort.
No, Vito didn’t belong in jail. He shouldn’t go unpunished, of course, but probation seemed a fair punishment for his crime.
The issue decided, Marian picked up her butter knife and clinked it on the side of her water glass. She cleared her throat and began, “First of all, I want to thank all of you for your efforts in searching for me. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here to enjoy this beautiful celebration of Christmas.” Her gaze landed on Sylvia. “And it was lovely to see your wonderful face coming to rescue me.”
The room erupted with cheers and happy chatter. Clinking her glass again, Marian continued. “There is one person missing from this table that I have grown quite fond of, and I hope you all would come to see him the way I do.” Marian was met with confused stares. “Vito Franks, my kidnapper, is a dear man who fell on hard times. He was injured while he was trying to do the right thing and allow me to escape. He risked his own safety to make that happen.” She turned her eyes toward Joe. “My wish is that you would take this suggestion to the judge: that Vito receive probation instead of jail time.”
