Chapter 31
W hat are you talking about, Roslyn?”
Beth was on the phone with the professor. When she heard John address his ex-wife, she turned her head and looked at him inquisitively. He gave a shrug and an impatient shake of his head.
Roslyn was saying, “Like you don’t know.”
“I don’t know,” he said with heat. “The last I heard, she was going to dinner with you and your intended.”
“She wasn’t ready in time, and I didn’t want to lose the reservation. We had champagne chilling. I wasn’t going to let her inconsideration spoil our celebration. She said for us to go ahead, that she would drive herself when she was ready. Of course I refused to allow that since—”
“Since she has only her learner’s permit,” he said, impatiently finishing for her. “Are you telling me that she didn’t make it to the restaurant?”
“No, I’m telling you that she called an Uber, using a credit card that you gave her without my knowledge.”
“I don’t need your permission to give my daughter a credit card, Roslyn. She doesn’t abuse it. It’s to use in case of an emergency.”
“Like running to you.”
He could feel anxiety like a fist taking hold of his lungs and beginning to squeeze. “Did she get to the restaurant or not?”
“Oh, she did. Acting like the queen of Sheba. She was horrid. Absolutely horrid. She ruined the whole evening for us. She was snotty and sullen. I wanted to slap her. When they brought out the cake—”
“Jesus,” he whispered.
“—she threw her napkin in an expensive plate of food she hadn’t touched, and stalked out.”
“You haven’t seen her since?”
“I was going to let her have it as soon as we got home, but she isn’t here. I know she ran to you, John, because—”
“Did she take your car?”
“No. That’s the first thing I checked. It’s still in the garage. But she’s resourceful, and now she has that secret credit card—”
“She’s not with me. I haven’t heard from her since she texted me that she’d gotten home from school. I’m hanging up.”
Beth had concluded her call and was looking at him with concern.
“Molly is unaccounted for.” His throat was so constricted he could barely speak the words. With butter fingers, he called Molly’s cell. After the tenth ring, it went to voice mail. “Molly, your mother called me looking for you. If you’re on your way to me, fine. Good. Don’t worry about her rants. I’ll handle her. Just call me to let me know you’re all right. If you can’t get here, I’ll come pick you up.
“Look, I know you’re upset. But remember our pact. We’ll work things out with your mother, I swear. Even if we have to go to court. Call me back. I love you.”
He clicked off, threw the phone down onto the table, and raked his fingers through his hair. Beth said, “You’re afraid she ran away again?”
“No. I’m afraid she didn’t.”
“This is Barker. Who’s this?”
“Your worst nightmare.”
“Well, hello, Bowie.”
“Have you got my daughter?”
Tom looked across at the ogre, who was wedged into his chair on the other side of Tom’s desk and, as usual, was opening a fresh stick of chewing gum. Tom put his phone on speaker. “What makes you think so?”
Bowie, speaking softly, said, “If you have laid a finger on her, I’m going to choke you, slowly, with your own intestines.”
Tom waited a moment to reply, then drawled, “Frank here warned me of that, didn’t you, Frank? He warned that you would gut me on principle.”
“Where is she?”
“Given her history of running away, I thought you’d have kept better track of her.”
“Put her on the phone. On FaceTime.”
Barker tsk ed. “You know I won’t let you see her, John. Or even talk to her. Not unless I get something in return.”
“Like what? Exoneration?”
“For what?”
“Billy Oliver’s death.”
He laughed. “Your memory is rusty. That boy hanged himself. Everybody knows that.”
“Put Molly on the phone. Now , damn you!”
“John, if you’re negotiating a hostage release, you’ve got to come to the table thinking reasonably, not making demands.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Bowie’s heavy, frantic breathing soughed through the speaker. Music to Tom’s ears. He said, “I’ll let your kid go in exchange for bringing you in. See how simple? We make a swap. How fair is that?”
“You’ll turn her over?”
“You’re thinking more clearly already.”
“To who?” John asked.
“Pardon?”
“Who will you turn her over to? And if you say the ogre, you’ve got no deal.”
“How bad do you want your kid to be let go?”
“How bad do you want me in cuffs?”
Tom looked over at Frank to get his opinion. The blob just sat there, observing while chewing his gum like a cow with cud, offering no advice whatsoever.
Then Tom had a flash of brilliant inspiration. “Beth Collins. Bring her along. I’ll hand the girl over to her.”
“Negative.”
“You don’t trust her with your daughter?”
“I don’t trust you with Beth. No deal.”
“Look, Bowie, you’re being awfully high-handed. If you want your kid—”
“If you want me, I choose who Molly gets entrusted to. Take it or leave it. If you leave it, I’m calling the feds, and alleging kidnapping.”
“It would never stick.”
“But it would be bad publicity the night before your big television debut.”
Again, Tom silently consulted the ogre, who said in a low voice, “I’d prefer the babe, but…” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Whatever.”
Tom gave him a dirty look and went back to Bowie. “All right. Who’re you bringing?”
“You’ll see. Where does this exchange take place?”
“Nowhere too public. I’d rather keep this just between us.”
“I’m sure you would. In fact, I counted on it.”
“How about your place? Frank tells me it’s out in the boonies. What say we meet there in two hours?”
“See you there.”
“Hold on, hotshot. I’m not finished negotiating the terms.”
“What else?”
“If you resist arrest, I won’t be responsible for what happens to either you or your girl. No tricks. And you had better be as meek as a fucking lamb. Frank’s a bit testy after sitting in his car all day outside the high school, said it gave him hemorrhoids. If I were you, I wouldn’t test his mood.”
“I’ll be there. But if I see that Molly’s been hurt—”
“She hasn’t been.”
“—or if she gets hurt—”
“She can blame her daddy. Her future is entirely up to you.”
Barker hung up and smiled smugly. “In two hours, Frank.”
The ogre shook his large head, looking troubled. He’d even stopped chewing. “Boss, you sure about this?”
“Don’t ask me that again.”
Beth had been able to follow John’s conversation with Barker. After its abrupt end, John immediately called Mitch, who answered on the first ring. John said, “How soon can you get here?”
“To the fishing camp? Half an hour.”
“Make it twenty. Barker and the ogre have Molly.”
“Leaving now.”
As John disconnected, Beth said, “John, you and Mitch can’t go meet them. Just the two of you?”
“You heard Barker. He wants to keep it between us. You know why? Because he has every intention of killing me.”
“All the more reason for you to call the police.”
“They are the police.”
“Then the FBI, like you threatened.”
“That was a bluff. By the time they got into play, Molly could be dead.”
“ You could be dead.”
“We can’t argue about this, Beth.”
He sidestepped her to walk over to the wall where the shotgun hung on the gun rack. He took it down and scooped a handful of shells from the cigar box and dropped them into the pocket of his black rain jacket, which was hanging on one of the hooks inside the front door. He propped the shotgun against it.
From the top drawer of a bureau, he took several clips for his .45 and placed them in the other side pocket. A knife was stored in another drawer. He took it out of its scabbard, tested its razor-thin blade against the pad of his thumb, then bent down and slid it into his boot.
“You carry a knife in your boot?” she asked.
“It fits in a scabbard. When we were partners, Mitch had them made for us.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t trust the bad guys.”
Watching him preparing like a soldier for battle, Beth wrung her hands. “Molly must be terrified. How did he get to her?”
“Maybe when she came home alone from the restaurant. Somewhere between the Uber car and the house. Or maybe she was snatched when she left the restaurant, before the Uber car arrived.”
He stopped in the middle of the room and dug his thumb and middle finger into his eye sockets. “God, when I think about that cretin touching her.” Then he lowered his hand and gave his head a hard shake. “I can’t think about that now. I’ll go crazy.”
“Should you notify Roslyn?”
“Should, but I’m not going to until I have Molly back and can report to Roslyn that she’s okay.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he and Beth looked at each other. Beth figured that he was thinking the same thing she was: Molly may not be okay. She didn’t dare say it. However, her apprehension must have been visible.
His eyes became as sharp and steely as the knife inside his boot. “We’re all coming back. Molly and me and Mitch.”
She squared her shoulders. “And me. I’m going with you.”
“Out of the question.”
“Think about it, John. Whatever’s happened while she’s been with them will have been traumatizing. Having another woman there—”
“I get your point, but it’s not going to happen.”
“John—”
“That’s the end of it,” he said, slicing his hands. His features had turned as hard and uncompromising as they’d been in the bar when he’d first learned that she represented Crisis Point .
Then his head dropped forward. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m worried on your account, too. I hate leaving you here alone, but I’m leaving you armed, and with a secret. Come in here.”
He led her into his bedroom and opened the closet door. He knelt and moved aside several pairs of footwear, then pried up a section of the hardwood floor. Beneath it was a cavity about four feet square and six feet deep, disturbingly resembling a grave.
“It’s dark and musty, but I think Mutt will warn you if he hears someone approaching. Get in here. Keep this with you.” He reached underneath the nightstand and produced a pistol that had been secured to the underside.
“When did you do all this?” she asked.
“I began preparing for this day soon after the Mellin case. I knew it was coming.”
“You just didn’t know that I would bring it.”
“Beth, no. You didn’t cause this. It’s been waiting to happen.”
He wanted to say something profound and meaningful that would cover the broad range of sentiments rattling around inside him like dice in a cup. But he wasn’t a poet, so he kept it simple. “I wish I hadn’t limited myself to only once with you.”
“If I have any say in the matter, you haven’t.”
Each second counted. Nevertheless, he held her gaze for a precious few, then checked the pistol he’d retrieved and set it on the nightstand. “It’s loaded and the safety is off, so be careful handling it. But keep it within your reach.”
“Point and pull the trigger.”
“Several times.”
While waiting for Mitch, John worked out a plan. He kept it to himself, not sharing it with Beth because she had become increasingly fearful for both him and Molly, and it showed.
He was only slightly better at concealing the fear gnawing at him. He knew the cruelty the ogre was capable of and the delight he derived from it. It made him ill to think of the ogre anywhere near Molly. He pulsed with a craving to dispatch Frank Gray without fuss or muss.
He wanted to deal with Tom Barker on a more personal level. He’d masterminded this sadistic plot, using Molly as a pawn, hitting John where he knew he was most vulnerable. Barker he wanted to kill with his bare hands.
He knew, though, to keep those murderous impulses under control for now. Police training had taught him that mistakes were made when one allowed raw emotion to dictate decisions and actions. To keep them from overtaking him, he focused on readying himself mentally.
When Mitch arrived, he gave Beth a quick hello hug, but he had also been trained in special ops. John recognized the coiled tension just beneath the surface. Because he didn’t want Beth to overhear the plan he’d outlined, he drew Mitch aside on the pretext of checking weapons.
Mitch, accustomed to absorbing stratagems under pressure, took it all in without question or comment, then said, “Let’s do it.”
He turned away, but John hooked his elbow and pulled him back. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Fuck you. Of course I do.”
“If we pull this off, I’ll owe you big-time.”
“You sure as hell will. How about being godfather to my son?”
John swallowed thickly. “That’d be… thanks. But one more thing before we go. If it comes down to a choice of getting me out or Molly, it’s her. Got that? You’re soon to be a father. You understand.”
Mitch nodded. “I don’t count on having to make a choice, but I understand.” He slapped John on the back and said, “See you outside.” He waved to Beth on his way through the door, then melded into the darkness beyond the cabin.
John pulled on his jacket and double-checked the ammunition he’d placed in its pockets, then went over to Mutt and scratched the top of his head. “Look sharp, buddy.”
Beth was standing near the door, actually trembling. John walked over and placed his palm against the side of her neck, curling his fingers around her nape. “I’m coming back.”
“Make it a promise.”
He pulled her up and toward him. It wasn’t a long kiss, but he made a solemn vow of it.