Part 5 (1/2)
”I promise,” I said. But I don't know if I meant it.
”So you'll come with me?”
It was a strange question.
”Aren't you making me?”
”Not really, no.”
”Then you'll take me back?”
”No. No, I can't do that. It would kill your mother. You can come with me and you'll see.”
”And then I can leave if I want to?”
He hesitated a moment, then dipped his head. ”Sure. But you have to come with me first, of course.”
His thinking was a little upside-down, I thought. As if he wanted my partic.i.p.ation in what he was actually forcing on me, maybe to make himself feel better. Which meant he did care. But he'd taped me up and kidnapped me.
”So you'll come?” he asked again.
I nodded.
He slapped the tabletop. ”That's what I'm talking about! Kathryn will be delighted. If we had cell service up here, I'd call her now and let you talk to her. Wait here.”
He stood up, hurried into the kitchen, withdrew a jar of clear liquid from the cupboard, and came back, grinning ear to ear.
”We're going to make a toast,” he said, uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the jar's lid. ”To you. To Kathryn.”
”What's that?”
”Moons.h.i.+ne, sweetheart. Made it myself. It's strong but it will purify you inside and out.”
He took a drink and swallowed, then pa.s.sed the jar to me.
”Me?”
”It's holy juice. Just take a small sip. You'll see.”
I took the jar tentatively, sniffed it, then took a tiny sip.
It tasted like poison and I spewed most of it out.
He laughed. ”Good, isn't it?”
”It's horrible!”
”Well, yes, at first I guess it is a bit strong. But it's the real deal, sweetheart. You're now purified. Welcome to the family.”
For a moment I actually felt like part of some strange family, and I think I might have even given him a little grin.
Then I remembered where I was and I wasn't so sure.
Not at all.
5.
Day Four
9:03 am
OLIVIA LOOKED over downtown Greenville from the second-floor conference room as the morning sun made its undeterred journey to mark the beginning of this, the fourth day since Alice had been taken.
Four days too long.
Although her office at the FBI headquarters in Columbia was only an hour-and-a-half drive south, the local field office had become her base for the last three days because of its proximity to the crime scene.
Behind her, several caseworkers sat around the long table that filled the room, poring over the situation reports that had come in during the night from local police who were helping follow up on leads.
”You should think about getting some sleep,” Benner said and pa.s.sed her a steaming cup of coffee.
”I'm not tired.”
”Well, you look it.”
She took a sip.
”At least get a bite to eat.”
She turned on her heel and walked toward the front of the room. ”Not hungry.”
Olivia set the coffee on the table's edge and stopped, arms crossed, in front of the flat-panel TV mounted on the wall. Multicolored markers dotted a digital map, each one indicating a lead in the case. Three days ago, the majority had been yellow and green-good, or at least viable, leads mostly reported sightings of the truck after the Amber Alert had been issued.
Now she was staring at a landscape of red.
We're losing her.
Professionalism only went so far. No one could bury their frustration forever. The energy in the room had taken a negative turn-she didn't want it to take root.
She turned to face them. ”All right, people. Let's run through what we've got.”
The low murmur of activity stopped. All eyes focused on Olivia.