Sadie clenched her jaw, frowning. It was tempting to tell him that she had skills—skills that had saved her life more than once and that became particularly honed in moments of extreme peril—but in the unlikely event that he believed her, he would then view her as a possible threat. She wouldn’t be using her kung fu skills anyway, since she refused to create more stumbling blocks for Eric. However, even if her captor didn’t know what she was capable of, Sadie took courage in knowing that she could defend herself if she needed to. The seven pounds she’d lost over the last couple of months was due in part to the kickboxing class she’d enrolled in at the local women-only fitness club in Garrison. Her blocks and jabs had become increasingly more reflexive. It was a mistake for him to underestimate her, but she wasn’t about to say so.
“Well, anyway, I am sorry,” Sadie said.
“Don’t be sorry on my account,” he said. “An extra five thousand dollars will go a long way.” He glanced at her and winked.
Five thousand dollars?
Until that moment, Sadie hadn’t thought about how ridiculously small the amount of money was, even with the extra five grand he had demanded. Fifteen thousand dollars? The man was going to all this trouble, breaking all kinds of laws, for an amount of money that wouldn’t even buy a new car? Well, maybe a Hyundai.
“How do you know Megan’s father?” he asked.
Sadie looked at him quickly. She’d told him she was from Georgia by way of Wyoming. Should she stick to that story? Would keeping to her original lies make her seem more credible in some totally twisted way?
When she didn’t answer right away, he went on. “The cars at Best Buy Used Cars are a front for a money-laundering scheme. No one buys a car from them unless they are involved in guns, drugs, or . . . other things just as bad.” He slowed down for a red light. “I don’t imagine you’re a kingpin in any of those industries?” His gaze flickered to her left hand. “And you aren’t wearing a wedding ring, so everything else you said is suspect.”
Shoot,
Sadie thought, rubbing her finger that hadn’t had a wedding ring on it for many years.
What could she say now? The light turned green, and they pulled forward, merging into the right lane per the GPS voice that told them to turn right at the next intersection. He did as he was told, turning right, then right again, and then left before Sadie was completely turned around and had no idea where they were or where they’d been. She’d done pretty well at keeping track while they remained on 51st Street.
“Believe it or not,” he said after they’d driven several blocks with only the GPS providing conversation. “I’m actually one of the good guys, or at least I’m trying to be—it’s a lot harder than I expected.”
Hmmm. “If you’re one of the ‘good guys,’” Sadie said out loud, choosing her words carefully. “Then who are the bad guys?”
He didn’t answer.
Sadie tried again. “Did the bad guys take Megan?” She knew that a good hostage wouldn’t ask so many questions, and certainly not in a way that betrayed the fact that she really wanted to figure out what was going on, but he was the one who started the conversation. Sadie had learned that if people wanted to talk, you did everything you could to accommodate them.
“Take?” he repeated, then shook his head. “No, they didn’t take her.”
Sadie furrowed her brow. “So, you’re saying she . . . left?”
“There’s lots of things to run away from in this world,” he said quietly. “And lots of places to run
to
if you know how to find them.”
Run away?
He couldn’t have said it any clearer than that. It changed so many things, twisting them just enough to make them look very different—almost unrecognizable. Sadie’s chest tightened as she imagined what that information would do to Eric. “Does Megan want to be found?” It was a painful question to ask, and she feared it would be just as painful an answer to hear.
The question surprised her captor, but he only let it show in the slight shifting of his eyebrows. He kept his mouth shut, but it was answer enough.
Megan didn’t want to come back.
Wow.
A traffic jam of questions crashed into her mind. “Why would she want to disappear?” Sadie asked while reviewing everything Eric had said about his daughter. “What was she running from?”
“I’m done talking,” he said.
“Well, you’re being so cryptic that it doesn’t make much sense anyway,” Sadie said, folding her arms over her chest and pouting a little as her emotions got the best of her. This had become a very strange conversation.
He managed a chuckle. “Cryptic? I guess you can see it that way if you want. You’ll learn all these answers eventually; I just need you to not know them yet.”
“Why?”
“I’m not answering any more questions.”
Sadie leaned back against the seat, processing what he’d said. What would Megan be running away from? She had a father who loved her, and a mother . . . who didn’t seem to know what love was anymore.
“You’re trying to help Megan, aren’t you?” she heard herself asking, even though he’d told her himself that he wasn’t going to answer any more questions. She regarded him carefully. He was the same man who had held her against the doorway and who’d pointed a gun at her head, but there was more to him than that. His square jaw was tense, but his eyes reflected sincerity, and when he answered her question, the softness in his tone was not feigned.
“Yes, I’m trying to help her,” he said.
“But you’re not bringing her to the track tonight, are you?” If Megan didn’t want to come back to her old life, Sadie didn’t imagine this man would be forcing her to come to a public place. Beneath the confusing signals he was sending out, Sadie sensed he
cared
about Megan.
“No,” he said. “But I’ll give her father all the information he needs to find her.” He glanced at Sadie quickly. “And she’s safe until then.”
“Are you hiding her somewhere?” Sadie imagined Megan bound and gagged in a closet.
“No.”
“Is she close?”
He turned and gave her a look that clearly said he wasn’t going to tell her that. But Megan must be close, Sadie was sure of it.
“And after you tell Eric what you know, you’re going to disappear, right?”
It was the only explanation for why he wouldn’t tell Sadie right now.
He clenched his jaw and stared through the windshield.
Okay, she was pushing too hard. Was there another topic she could bring up to keep him talking without making him defensive? Scanning the car, her eyes landed on the GPS unit, reminding her that someone had given Eric coordinates to Megan’s purse and had known it was 200 yards from where the other woman’s body had been found. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “You’re the anonymous tipster who told the police about the body, aren’t you?”
“I think we should change the subject,” he said, his voice heavy.
But his reply had given Sadie the answer she needed so she was willing to let it go. She leaned a little closer to the passenger door and a little farther away from him, studiously looking out the window. At some point they’d exchanged the run-down apartments and industrial buildings for retail stores, restaurants, and gas stations.
He slowed down as he pulled into a turning lane. The GPS voice immediately said she was recalculating his route, meaning this stop wasn’t what he’d programmed into the gadget. Sadie decided to call the GPS Dora. She wasn’t sure why Dora was the name that came to mind, she just sounded like a Dora to Sadie’s ears, and Sadie preferred giving the voice an identity. It was like getting directions from a friend.
He pushed the mute button, and Sadie scanned the nearby parking lots. Where was he going?
“You understand that if you try to run, or scream, or draw attention to yourself you’ll ruin everything for Megan’s father, right?” he asked as he came to a stop in the middle lane, waiting for a break in traffic.
“Yes,” Sadie answered.
“Good,” he said, sounding relieved to have that out of the way. “Are you hungry?”
“Um, not really,” Sadie said, shaking her head. How could she be expected to eat at a time like this? If she were being offered something wonderful, like authentic hush puppies or more of Tia’s pasta salad, maybe, but Del Taco, Burger King, and Panda Express did nothing for her. She looked around for a true Southern restaurant—one that advertised shrimp Creole, or fried okra or . . . gumbo! Her brother, Jack, made the best gumbo; she’d love to put his recipe up against another version. Alas, they were in a strip mall that could exist anywhere in the United States. How disappointing. Maybe Jack would make her some gumbo when she got home to make up for her limited options. She hadn’t even seen mention of key lime pie since her arrival—not that she’d really had much time to think about it, but still. She thought of Eric’s nickname for Megan—Sweetie Pie—and her heart ached all over again. Where was Megan, and how was she connected to this man?
“You sure?” he said as he pulled in behind half a dozen cars in the drive-thru of KFC.
“I’m sure, thank you,” Sadie said. She had a coupon for a buy-one-get-one-free meal in her purse, but wasn’t about to offer it to him.
“So, your name is Sadie?” the tipster said. “I’ve never heard that before.”
Apparently he wasn’t a big Barbara Streisand fan. Sadie had had “Sadie, Sadie, married lady” sung to her most of her life. Listening to his tone now, it was difficult for Sadie to believe he was the hardened man who hadn’t thought twice about pinning her against the doorway with a gun to her head. Difficult, but not impossible. Sadie would make sure she didn’t forget it.
“It’s a nickname,” she said, realizing that, defenses aside, the next three hours until they met Eric at the Speedway would be more comfortable if some of the tension subsided. “It’s short for Sarah Diane.”
“Huh,” he said, nodding as though he cared about the origins of her name. They edged forward, and he ordered a number five combination meal.
“Do you have a name?” Sadie asked after they inched forward toward the drive-thru window.
He paused, and Sadie realized he was trying to come up with a name. He hadn’t planned to have a hostage any more than she’d planned on becoming one. He was flying by the seat of his pants just like Sadie was. She wasn’t sure why that understanding was important, but it stood out to her so she filed it away. After a few more seconds, he said, “Call me Joe.”
“Joe,” Sadie repeated, knowing it was a fake name, but she hadn’t expected he would use his real name anyway.
He rolled up to the drive-thru and exchanged his money for food. He set the bag in the space between their seats. Sadie had to admit it smelled good, but she still didn’t want fast food.
“So, Joe,” she began. “Where are we going now?”
“A park,” Joe said.
“A park?” she repeated.
“What else should I do with you?” he asked, sounding frustrated as he wove his way out of the parking lot and back to the street.
“You could let me go,” Sadie offered. He looked at her like she was crazy, so she hurried to explain herself. “I already gave you my word that I wouldn’t do anything or say anything that would risk Eric not finding his daughter. And you are obviously concerned enough about Megan to orchestrate all this. The longer I’m with you, the more I’ll figure out. So, with that in mind, it seems as though it’s in your best interest not to have to deal with me at all, therefore having more control over what I know and having more to offer Eric when you two meet at the Speedway.”
He was still for a moment and then laughed out loud. “Do you really think I’m
that
stupid?” He un-muted Dora, once again in need of her direction.
“No,” Sadie said with sincerity. “I think you’re that
smart.
I understand why you had me come with you—to show Eric that you weren’t to be taken lightly. I get that, and you played the role very well. But you achieved that goal, so why put up with me any longer than you have to? I can be very aggravating, or so people tell me.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, studying the traffic. “I can see where people would get that idea.”
Sadie just smiled. It was all part of her plan. She’d agreed not to yell, scream, run, or in any other way get him caught, but she’d said nothing about not talking his ear off—especially now that she had the sense he wasn’t interested in hurting her. “I won’t do anything to mess things up if you let me go,” she said. “You have my word.”
“You’d go to the cops,” he said as Dora told him to make a left-hand turn.
Sadie shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t.” From the backseat she heard the ascending ring of her phone—it was a Michael Bublé song this week. Sadie wondered who was calling and remembered that she hadn’t listened to Gayle’s message yet.
Joe spotted a hole in traffic and shot forward to cross all four lanes.
Sadie’s phone stopped ringing as she grabbed the door handle and was pushed back against the seat due to the forward momentum of the car.
“If I did let you go, what would you do?”
Oh, good, he’s considering it!
Sadie straightened. “Well, I would call Eric and see if he needed help getting the money together.” Joe ought to like that part. “Then, I would . . .” She trailed off, wondering if she should tell this part, but she couldn’t expect him to trust her if she didn’t tell him the truth. “I would tell him what you’ve told me about Megan so that he’ll be a little better prepared.”
“
Prepare
him,” Joe said under his breath, shaking his head slightly. Sadie watched him carefully and replayed his reaction in her head. He cleared his throat. “Look, you were right when you said I wanted Megan to be found. I do, which is why I can’t take the risk of you getting in the way of that—no matter how tempting it is to be rid of you.”
He checked his blind spot and switched lanes, glancing at the GPS. As if on cue, Dora told him to turn right in one-quarter of a mile. As they were coming up on the intersection, Dora reminded him about the right turn. He followed her instructions.
“Okay, then,” Sadie said. “We have a couple hours’ worth of conversation ahead of us, don’t we? So, tell me more about yourself. Where are you from? If you were a native of Miami you probably wouldn’t need a GPS.”