The Disappearance by J. F. Freedman Read Free Book Online Page B

a calming breath and launches into it.
    “Two nights ago my daughter, Emma Lancaster, was taken from her bedroom in our home. By now, many of you have heard about that, on this station and others, as well as in the newspapers. Several of you have called in to the station with condolences, sent letters and faxes, and e-mailed us. My wife and I are extremely grateful for that support.
    “To this moment, however, we have had no communication whatsoever with the person or persons who took her. While the police, sheriff’s department, state police, and FBI have all been working around the clock to try to find her, they have not come up with any clues.”
    He straightens himself in his chair—here comes the punch line.
    “Tonight, here and now, I am taking the special step of using this public forum to offer a reward of two hundred fifty thousand dollars for Emma’s safe return. I will pay that reward to anyone who can give us evidence that will enable us to find her alive and unharmed. If anyone out there watching knows anything about Emma, and you don’t want to reveal who you are, we can arrange a way to get you the money without anyone knowing about it. I have discussed this with the police, and they have assured me that they will not interfere with this in any way.”
    A photo of Emma, taken at their resort home at Telluride over the Christmas holidays, comes up on the monitor. Doug glances at it out of the corner of his eye before proceeding. “This is what Emma looks like. She is fourteen years old, five feet four, weighs one hundred and ten pounds, and has light brown shoulder-length hair and hazel eyes.”
    Seeing her picture up there causes the words scrolling down the TelePrompTer to begin looking fuzzy to him. He forces himself to concentrate, to get through this without losing it.
    “Most importantly,” he says, fixing the lens with the firmest look he can muster, “if you are the person who took my daughter, I am asking that you return her safely. That’s all. I give you my word that I won’t try to pursue you in any way. I will do whatever you want me to do. I will pay you any way you want. I can even transfer money into an untraceable foreign bank account if that would make you feel more secure.”
    He’s losing it—he needs to get this over before he breaks down.
    “Please,” he says, hearing the begging in his voice and not caring, “if you know anything about my daughter Emma’s whereabouts, call us at this toll-free number.” He glances at the monitor again as the 800 number comes up on the screen, and he reads it aloud. “If you are the man that took her and are afraid of how to get yourself out of this, call us. We are not monitoring this line. I repeat, the police are not monitoring this line. Your call will not be traced. Just call us, please. We’ll do anything you want. Anything.”
    He comes to the end of his speech. He feels his voice beginning to crack, but that’s all right. He can’t hold his emotions in check any longer.
    “Emma,” he says. “If you’re watching this, sweetheart, don’t give up. Your mom and I and everyone we know are doing everything we can to find you.” His eyes begin to tear. He has to get off.
    “And we will.”

DAY FOUR
    A MASSIVE MANHUNT IS SET in motion, all up and down the Pacific Coast. Dozens of suspects are brought in for interrogation, not only from California, but from all over the West—Oregon, Washington, Arizona, Nevada. Every man with a history of sexual deviance, assault, or abduction is rounded up and questioned fiercely. Boys from all the local high schools she might have known, men who in any way had an association with her, even the choirmaster at St. Martin’s Episcopal Church where she sang in the Sunday choir, are talked to.
    Tens of thousands of flyers are distributed. People from the community, all kinds of people, people the Lancasters have never met in their lives, volunteer their time to hunt for Emma. In Goleta alone,