GRAHAM
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Thursday, July 15
“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?”
The instant I hear my daughter’s voice on the other end of the line, my heart contracts so violently I have to sit down. In the precious seconds that fly by, I can’t remember what I say to Amy, but all too soon the moment is lost.
Then the full implication of Amy’s words washes over me.
With shaking hands, I call Marius. “Amy contacted me.”
Marius is at the Galen Research Institute in less than fifteen minutes. I’ve been here since six this morning, working on the media statement Amy’s kidnapper demanded I put together. A media statement that will never reach the public, but the kidnapper won’t know this. It’s all about buying time as Marius so carefully explained.
When Marius takes a seat opposite me, I notice, for the first time, a crack in his typically cool reserve.
“What’s going on?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice down, knowing my assistant’s ears are straining outside the closed door. I don’t want to add office gossip to this unholy mix. “Amy called me! Did you get the number?”
“I have a resource working on tracing it.” As if on cue, Marius’s cell phone rings and I spring to my feet. “Yes?” His face is unreadable as he listens to whatever is being said. “Okay, man, thanks.” He shakes his head. “The number was blocked.”
I sit down heavily, the air knocked out of me. “Against all odds, Amy managed to get to a phone. All we had to do was retrieve the number. We couldn’t even get that right.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Marius says. “If they caught her, they’re long gone by now. At least we know she’s still alive.”
“She sounded so defeated.” My fists bang the table. “What are you doing to get her back? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go to the police right now?”
His face shuts down. “Your daughter is in more danger now than at the start of all this. The fact that she got to a phone tells us these people are amateurs. You can take your chances with the police. If you do, tell them the kidnappers have no doubt been forced to move. They’ll be in unplanned territory and they’ll be vulnerable.” He stands to leave. “Remember, man,youcalledme.”
“Sit down, Marius,” I say wearily. “I won’t go to the police. But what do we do now?”
“We wait for them to make contact again. When they make another mistake, we’ll be ready.”
35
KANE
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Thursday, July 15
The silence is worse than the screaming. For the last ten minutes, I haven’t heard a sound from the storeroom. Worry frays my conscience. Did I push Amy too far?
Nolene’s eyes narrow in annoyance when she catches me lingering outside the door. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for her.”
Without replying, I head for my room, Nolene following me like a yapping dog.
“You show weakness and let her out now,” she says, “and you won’t find out who she contacted.”
“I realize that.”
“Why do you feel sorry for her? Look at what she did to you.”
Although I cleaned myself up and applied makeshift pressure bandages, my scalp and side are still hurting. “I don’t need a mental patient on my hands.”
“She brought it on herself.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I throw the last of my clothes into a suitcase, snapping it shut. “There’s only one person Amy could’ve contacted.”
