From what I could tell, everything about Sam sounded depressingly familiar. He was taken by the bell ringers when he was very young, lived as a captive for the entirety of his life, and had gotten away from them about a year ago, and been living on the streets ever since. There wasn’t much information on how he’d escaped, or what he’d been doing to survive until now, but there were only so many options. If the fiasco from yesterdayhad taught me anything, it was that some questions had to be asked very carefully.
At about three in the afternoon, Logan arrived with Sam Casimir in tow.
“Hey, Kitt,” Logan greeted as he stepped out from behind the wheel of a rather beaten-up looking sedan. “How’s everything going here? Is, um... is everyone okay?”
“Clay is fine,” I assured him, though I was more focused on Sam.
I’d seen a photo of Sam before he arrived, so I shouldn’t have been shocked by the sight of him, but he still managed to take me by surprise. He was such a perfect fit for the bell ringers’ preference, it was no surprise that he’d been taken. Strawberry blond hair hung down over his shoulders. It was a bit limp at the moment, but I could tell that after a shower it would probably fall in beautiful waves. His blue eyes were just a bit too big for his face, giving him a boyish look even as his gaze darted suspiciously from side to side. If he stood straight, he’d probably be just a little taller than average, but his shoulders remained hunched and defensive.
Overall, even in such a worn-down state, he was beautiful.
He’d definitely been one of the bell ringers’ angels.
Staying out in the open for too long was dangerous, even inside the main house. So, I quickly brought Logan and Sam down into the safety of the bunker. By now, the sight of the underground bunker had become so familiar I barely noticed it anymore, but the moment we stepped onto the lawn of faux-grass, Sam looked around at the cottages and the painted sky with amazement.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he gasped as he held a hand over his eyes as if shielding them from actually sunlight. “When you said you had a safe house, I was picturing some old warehouse, or like, one ofthose safe rooms you see in movies. This is a proper little resort down here.”
“It certainly beats any safe house my department could have come up with,” Logan agreed. “Now, um, Kitt. Which of these cottages is Clay staying in?”
I could help but laugh at him. “Second from the right. Go on ahead. I’ll talk to Sam on my own.”
With an eager smile and a wave of thanks, Logan ran off to go find Clay, and I was left alone with our new arrival.
“So, um...” Sam hesitated, digging his toe into the fake sod as he struggled to look directly at me. “Mister... um, what was your name again?”
“Kitt Doyle,” I told him, while waving for him to follow me. I’d originally planned to introduce him to the other witnesses, but after yesterday’s debacle, that plan had changed.
I brought Sam to a small room off of the main cottage that had originally been used for storage, but I’d recently cleared it out and set up a single desk with a chair on either side.
“What’s this all about?” Sam asked as he took one of the chairs. “I feel like I’m being interrogated.”
“Nothing so formal,” I assured him as I took the other chair on the other side of the desk. “Think of this as more of a preliminary interview. I’m the lawyer in charge of this case, and as such, I want to make sure that I have all the information as clear as possible.”
Plus, most importantly, it would give me a chance to assess the newcomer before introducing him to Jordy. My assumption that all the witnesses would automatically get along had been naive. The disaster from yesterday would not be repeated.
“I guess that makes sense.” Sam shrugged while nervously tugging at the frayed cuff of his shirt. “What do you want to know?”
I laid out a set of familiar pictures over the table. “First, can you tell me if you recognize anyone here?”
Sam studied the pictures for a few moments, carefully considering each one. He lingered for an extra moment over the image of Edgar Barr, which looked more weathered than the others after Jordy had crumpled it up, but in the end, he placed that picture back amongst the rest without further comment.
“Sorry,” he said with a shake of his head after he’d studied each picture. “I don’t recognize any of these people.”
CHAPTER 14
Jordy
“Doyou think I should dye my hair again?” I asked Clay as we sat together in his cottage.
Clay had chosen a cottage near the front of the bunker, which didn’t have as good a view of the pool but instead, looked out over the fake lawn. We could see everyone coming and going, but I was too distracted tugging at a lock of my own hair.
Clay looked up from the book he’d been reading. “What do you mean? Didn’t you just dye it?”
“Well, yeah,” I agreed as I pulled my own hair in front of my eyes to try and see the color for myself. “But I was just wondering if it was actually the best color for me. Maybe I should have picked something else.”
Setting his book aside, Clay looked like he was about to respond, but then his attention was stolen by the window I’d been staring out of for the last twenty minutes. More specifically, at the group of people standing on the other side of the lawn.
For the time being, meetings with all the witnesses had been canceled. No one said it, but we all knew why. We couldn’t riska repeat of the last meeting. It had been over twenty-four hours since my argument with the other witnesses, and the tension still hung over the atmosphere of the safe house.
