The Stolen - Jason Pinter [111]
face, "that this town was tearing itself apart. That he'd
grown up here, and there were only two options for boys
Danny and James's age. Prison or the grave. Raymond said
he'd been to prison, but that's only because he got caught."
"And he offered you a deal," I said. "Right? He would
take Danny away for a few years. He would be gone, but he
would be safe. And by doing that you would give your
children a chance to grow up in a neighborhood where
they'd be safe. Where they could make something of themselves."
Shelly nodded. Then she stood up. Went over to the
mantel, and took down a framed photograph. She handed it
to me.
It was an odd picture. I'd noticed it during my interview
with Daniel. And now I thought about the photo I found
in Robert Reed's wallet and it all made sense.
The photo was of Shelly's younger son, James. The shot
had been taken from about five feet behind him. He was
wearing a knapsack, baggy jeans. He was unaware of the
photographer.
I turned the frame over and removed the knobs that held
it in place. When the backing came off, the back of the
photo was visible. One word was printed on it.
Remember.
"Raymond Benjamin gave that photo to me," she said.
"He told me he'd taken it himself. He said if he could get
that close to James, others could, too. People who meant
him more harm than he did. He said it was a fair trade. A
few years of Daniel's life would guarantee the safety of my
whole family forever. Daniel would, in a way, be a hero. I
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never understood how my son could be a hero giving his
life for a cause he didn't understand or even know about. I
just wanted to believe in some way he was doing it for the
future of James and Tasha. And he said that anytime I began
to doubt myself or what I'd done, to look at that photo and
remember what could happen to the rest of my family."
"What did you do, Shelly?" I asked.
Shelly began to weep. She held her head in her hands.
I felt a modicum of remorse for this woman, but it soon
went away.
"I told Benjamin the route Danny took to get home
from practice," she said. "Six-thirty every night. I made
him promise not to hurt my baby. He told me he wouldn't."
"What else did Benjamin say?"
"He promised me a family would take care of him.
They knew about his diabetes and they would care for
him," Shelly said through bloodshot eyes. "And I believed
him. At least I wanted to. I needed to know my babies
could grow up and lead full lives. I've seen what this town
can do to people. I wanted my sons to have something
better."
"Is that what Danny has now?" I asked. "Something
better?"
"I don't know," she said. "But if he can get out of here
and ends up in a safe office, making money, starting a
family instead of rotting behind bars or in the dirt, then yes.
He has something better. I know you can't possibly understand that, Henry. Wanting your child to not just survive but
live a life. Maybe one day you will. But you can't right
now."
"No," I said. "I can't."
45
I woke up the next morning, pleasantly surprised that
sleep had come so easily. I think it was more due to the
complete lack of energy in every one of my muscles, the
utter exhaustion I felt, than any sort of blissful conscience.
As soon as we returned from the Linwood residence,
I'd gone straight to the Gazette to write up my story.
Amanda had given me a long, deep hug, and for the first
time since we'd started speaking again, a hug was all I
wanted.
The story was difficult to write. That so many people
had been so deceitful, purposefully putting so many lives
at risk, it was hard to fathom how any of them could have
felt they were doing the right thing. I heard over the wire
that the police had apprehended Robert and Elaine Reed
in a suburb just outside Chicago. Caroline Twomey was
in the process of being returned to her family. The police
had reopened the kidnappings of both Danny Linwood and
Michelle Oliveira. They still didn't know who kidnapped
them, and they believed Gray Talbot