Part One THE “WHITE GIRL” CASE
CHAPTER 1
THE PHIPPS PLAZA shopping mall in Atlanta was a showy montage of pink-granite doors,
sweeping bronze-trimmed staircases, gilded Napoleonic design, lighting that sparkled like
halogen spotlights. A man and a woman watched the target, “Mom”, as she left Niketown
with sneakers and whatnot for her three daughters packed under one arm.
“She is very pretty. I see why the Wolf likes her. She reminds me of Claudia Schiffer,” said
the male observer. “You see the resemblance?”
Everybody reminds you of Claudia Schiffer, Slave Don’t lose her. Don’t lose your pretty little
Claudia or the Wolf will have you for breakfast.”
The abduction team, the Couple, was dressed expensively, and that made it easy for them to
blend in at Phipps Plaza, in the Buckhead section of Atlanta. At eleven in the morning, Phipps
wasn’t very crowded, and that could be a problem.
It helped that their target was rushing about in a world of her own, a tight little cocoon of
mindless activity, buzzing in and out of Gucci, Caswell-Massey, Niketown, then Gapkids and
Parisian (to see her personal shopper, Gina), without paying the slightest attention to who was
around her in any of the stores. She worked from an At-a-Glance leather-bound diary and
made her appointed rounds in a quick, efficient, practiced manner, buying faded jeans for
Gwynne, a leather dop kit for Brendan, Nike diving watches for Meredith and Brigid. She
even made an appointment at Carter-Barnes to get her hair done.
The target had style and also a pleasant smile for the sales people who waited on her in the
Tony stores. She held doors for those coming up behind her, even men, who went out of their
way to thank the attractive blonde. “Mom” was sexy in the wholesome, clean-cut way of
many upscale American suburban women. And she did resemble the supermodel Claudia
Schiffer. That was her undoing.
According to the job specs, Mrs. Elizabeth Connolly was the mother of three girls; she was a
graduate of Vassar, class of 87, with what she called a degree in art history that is practically
worthless in the real world , whatever that is , but invaluable to me.” She’d been a reporter for
the Washington Post and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution before she was married. She was
thirty-seven, though she didn’t look much more than thirty. She had her hair in a velvet
barrette that morning, wore a short-sleeved turtleneck, a crocheted sweater, slim-fitting slacks.
She was bright, religious, but sane about it, and tough when she needed to be, at least
according to the specs.
Well, she would need to be tough soon.
Mrs. Elizabeth Connolly was about to be abducted.
She had been purchased, and she was probably the most expensive item for sale that
morning at Phipps Plaza.
The price: $150,000.
The Big Bad Wolf
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