Tumbling rumbling. Laughter. A yell.
So many men overhead. At least five by the sound of them, and not the kind he’d brought with him earlier. Those men had walked lightly, their voices tight gunshots of words. Those men had been invited, she could tell, but they also knew they shouldn’t be there. The men above now didn’t care if they’d been asked. They werestriding. Policemen, maybe, or military.
Only a few feet of air and some insulated beams and floorboards separated Beth from them. They were talking loud enough she could catch every sixth word or so.
Girl...search...alive.
Something that sounded like “dodo.”
If she could hear them, they would certainly hear her if she opened her mouth.
“Help! I’m Elizabeth McCain, and I’ve been kidnapped! I’m down here!”
That’s what she would yell, if she could.
He’d caught her off guard. Again. He was an animal that sniffed out when she slept. Or maybe he had a peephole, up high where she couldn’t discover it. This time, she hadn’t had the lantern burning when he slid in, though, so unless he had some magic night-vision goggles, it’d been dumb luck that he’d caught her sleeping.
That, or reckless urgency.
He might have known these men were coming.
In fact, the more she thought about it, her brain dry and tight from thirst and starvation, that would explain everything. She assumed he’d come to violate her, but no. He’d rushed into the room. Secured her wrists behind her back with duct tape before slapping a strip over her mouth, the crisp ripping sound so shocking in the half-light that it tasted like lemon in her back fillings.
Then he’d shoved her into a corner as if she could bemorehidden, hissed into her ear to be quiet or else, and hurried out, locking the door behind him. The men with their stomping, we-belong walks had shown up less than twenty minutes later.
Think, Beth.
Had he been unhappy as he taped her? Scared? She didn’t know his moods, not really. She knew the pretend man who’d sat in her section at the diner, confident and flirtatious even after she’d sent wet-blanket vibes so strong they could have snuffed out a small fire. She also knew the man who came and violated her, a dumb huffing monkey, a slave to his urges. That man was in and out quick.
Then there was the third version. That was the man who’d swapped out her chamber pot and water bucket three times those first days, the man who’d left her the bread. That version hadn’t shown up in a while.
Don’t forget to feed the zoo animals, buddy.
She started to laugh but then caught herself. When he’d first bound her, she’d made the mistake of fighting the tape at her wrists. The exertion provoked a coughing fit, which caused her nose to stuff up. With her mouth taped shut, she’d almost suffocated. It took every reserve ounce ofself, ofBeth, she had left to calm her mind, then her heart, then her breathing.
Not like this,she’d told herself.
I’m not dying like this, you son of a bitch.
Full, strong breaths once her nose was clear, deep in her lungs.
She could grunt and growl to try to get the attention of the men overhead. It wouldn’t work, she knew that. She’d already tested her voice with the duct tape over her mouth. It was pitiful.
If there’d been a time to give up, this was it.
Rescue so close and so impossibly far.
But he’d looked worried, hadn’t he? That had been his expression this last visit, the look she couldn’t read until now. The footsteps above meant something. They gave her hope.
The footsteps plus the freed five-inch spike he’d failed to discover.
Before she’d lain down to sleep, she’d hidden the spike along the edge of the back wall, the same wall he’d thrown her against when he rushed in. She held it in one hand now, rubbing furiously against the tape binding her wrists.
CHAPTER 39
The next half hour was a jagged blur. Junie, woken by the commotion, had stumbled down the stairs. Nillson raced out, Dad disappeared into his office, and I sat, frozen. So Junie watched television, clicking on the CBS Late Late Movie.
Dad came out of his office moments later wearing a suit. He strode to the kitchen, pulled the gluey hotdish out of the fridge, and shoveled it into his mouth standing up. I didn’t know why he even bothered coming home anymore, this Dad-shaped man, this cheater, thisliar.
