It Only Takes a Moment Read Free

couldn’t, shouldn’t, turn down. On a personal level, I thought the hours would be better, perhaps enabling me to spend more time with my daughter.” Eliza laughed. “But that clearly isn’t the case. Both jobs require an intense time commitment.”
    “So if both jobs take such a huge time investment, why not stay at the Evening Headlines ?” the reporter asked.
    Eliza tucked some of her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear. “I know most people view the evening-news anchor job as the pinnacle in network news, and I suppose it is. But I missed the variety of the morning program. I can be interviewing politicians and heads of state about truly important issues, issues that affect the lives of millions of people and, in the same show, learn how to skateboard or chat about the latest fashion trends.”
    “So would you say that you have a shallow side?” asked the reporter.
    Eliza ignored the zinger. “I’d say that life is multifaceted and that I’m interested in all of it,” she said.
    The reporter flipped over a page of his notebook. “What about your daughter, Janie?”
    “What about her?”
    “She’s seven years old, right?”
    “That’s right.”
    “How does she feel about your return to morning television?”
    “Janie is at an age where she’s just beginning to understand about the notoriety of the job, but it doesn’t really interest her much. She’s more concerned with her sports teams and her dog, Daisy, and the fact that she wants me there when she comes home from school or camp. When I was anchoring the Evening Headlines , I could be there to get her off to school in the morning, but you know how rushed that time always is.”
    The reporter looked at her with a blank expression on his face.
    “Anyway,” Eliza continued, “now I’m home at the end of her day, when things are a little more relaxed and we can spend more time together, so it seems to be working out much better. Take today, for instance. When she gets home from day camp, I’ll be there and we can take a swim together before dinner and she can tell me about her day. I treasure being able to have that time with her.”
    “I suppose that must be especially important for a child who doesn’t have a father.”
    Eliza found herself irritated by the observation. Her daughter was not a victim.
    “Janie does have a father,” Eliza answered evenly. “A father who wanted her very much. Tragically, he died before he could ever hold her in his arms. But Janie is just like every other little kid, with one parent or two or none. She needs attention and love and she gets a lot of both. Janie is my top priority.”

CHAPTER 5
    T he late-model Volvo station wagon pulled in through the stone-pillared entrance to Camp Musquapsink. As Mrs. Garcia parked the car, she was keenly aware of the gun pointed at the back of her head.
    “Remember,” said the sailor, who lay on the backseat. “We have you wired. We can hear everything you say, so don’t try anything funny.”
    “Funny?” said Mrs. Garcia, her voice trembling. “This is not funny.”
    “I mean, don’t try to show them that something is wrong,” said Popeye with exasperation in his voice. “Go inside, get Janie, and come right out again. No stalling. And when you drive out of here, turn the car in the opposite direction from the way we came.”
    Mrs. Garcia reached for the door handle.
    “And remember,” he warned. “We know where your daughter and grandchild live. Westwood is such a nice little town. Think how a town like that would be shaken if something fatal happened to a mother and her baby.”
    Mrs. Garcia panicked at the thought of the monster’s new, terrifying threat. She was shaking as she got out of the car.
    Mrs. Garcia thought of pulling off the electronic gadgetry that hadbeen attached to the rear of the waistband of her skirt and beneath the collar of her cotton blouse. If these bad people couldn’t hear her, she could get help from the camp staff. But