A landline. I wasn’t aware people even used them anymore.
My hands are trembling, my mind blanking as I pick up the phone and dial a number I was made to memorize when I was ten years old.
“Hutchinson here.”
The tears spill over. “Dad, it’s Amy. I’m all right. No, I don’t know where I am. They’ll be back soon. I love you. Can you trace this number?”
32
KANE
––––––––
Thursday, July 15
I knock the phone out of Amy’s hand and grab her upper arm to stop her from running away. She makes no attempt to fight me.
With my scalp and side throbbing, I yell for Nolene. “She’s here!”
When Nolene and I failed to locate Amy outside, we assumed she somehow discovered a way out of the property. I was on the verge of climbing into the Land Rover to look for her when an odd feeling propelled me to check inside the house again.
That’s when I found her trying to call someone.
Nolene comes running into the kitchen. Although the ski mask hides her face, I have no trouble picturing the enraged expression stamped across it.
“What kind of game are you playing here?” she demands.
Amy’s face is pale. “I’m not playing a game.”
“What do you call this?”
“I tried to escape, but I heard you talking about the dogs and the electric fence.”
“Where were you hiding?” Nolene snaps.
“Under the dining room table.”
Nolene shakes her head in disbelief.
I keep my attention on Amy, not bothering with a ski mask since she’s seen my face.
“Who were you trying to call?” I ask.
“Nine-one-one,” she replies in a small voice.
I know I interrupted her before she could get through, but something’s still wrong. She’s too composed.
A new tension works its way into my shoulders.
And then I see it, a crack in Amy’s facade, the nervous flick of a glance in my direction.
My skin prickles. I’m silent for a beat while I try to figure it out. Then it hits me. “You called someone else before trying nine-one-one,” I say slowly. “Who did you call?”
“I—I didn’t call anyone.”
My gaze locks on her face. “I believe you did.”
Nolene rounds on Amy. “Who did you contact?”
