Now, as he sat in his chair, the Crown Royal doing its job, he couldn’t get the sound of Worthington’s voice out of his head. ‘
A pounding sound slowly brought him out of his stupor. Then a familiar voice followed the hammering. For a moment he mistook it for his dead partner Sally, but then he realized it was Victoria. He didn’t want to talk to her, so he poured another shot and slammed it down. The pounding went on for a bit longer and then it stopped. At least she had gotten the point.
Closing his eyes and leaning his head back, a vision of Michael and Victoria swam up from the depths. They had been at Bethany Beach in Delaware. Michael was seven. Jaxon had rented some fishing poles for the day and was showing his son how to use them. The boy couldn’t cast the big rigs on his own so Jaxon would wade into the surf, cast as far as he could, and then walk it back to the beach for Michael to hold. He had gotten a bite on the first cast. They laughed and howled as they reeled the fish in, but when he could see the fishing line drop off into the surf, Michael thought he had lost the fish. He looked so disappointed. Jaxon told him he’d catch another.
When Jaxon walked up to look at the leader and hook, he had been pleasantly surprised. He called Michael over and showed him the flat fish lying hidden in the surf. It was a flounder and Michael had jumped with joy. The fish had almost fooled them. Victoria had been so excited for Michael and she took a ton of pictures with him proudly holding up his catch. That had been a good day.
Somebody was shaking him. He slowly came back to reality and opened his eyes to find Victoria standing over him.
“How did you get in?” he slurred.
“I got the Super to open it,” she said.
He nodded.
“I left Holt,” she said matter-of-factly and sat on the couch across from him.
He didn’t know how to take this. He couldn’t seem to make himself care one way or another. He was beyond numb and his aptitude for compassionate thought had left him hours ago. It still surprised him though.
“Why would you do that?”
She just stared at him, a look of such sorrow on her face a little twinge of compassion crept its way back into his mind. Just a sliver, but it was there.
“Don’t do this,” she said.
He waved a hand at her and then tried to stand up. He didn’t make it. Falling back into his chair, he kicked the bottle of Crown over and it spilled out onto the carpet. He tried to reach for it but couldn’t get to it. She didn’t move.
“Stop it,” she said, but he continued to reach for the bottle. He felt like an infant trying to crawl across the floor for the first time.
She finally got up and grabbed the bottle from the floor. He smiled and reached his hand up for it. She turned and walked out of the room and when she returned she was holding a soda.
“Drink this,” she said. “You need the caffeine.”
“I want my Crown.” he complained, but took the can of soda anyway. “You don’t know everything,” he said.
“I know you’re going to drink yourself to death unless you get a grip on this.”
He tried to focus on her face, but she kept swimming in and out of his line of site. “I think I’m gonna blow.”
“Good,” she said. “That will help.”
He must have looked green because she got up quickly and returned with a trash can. She made it just in time. When he was done, he could think a little clearer.
“Better?” she said.
He sipped the soda, but said, “No. I don’t want to feel better. I don’t want to feel anything at all.”
“The girl is still alive.”
He stopped mid-sip and tried to absorb what she had just said. “Come again.”
“Eliana Pemberton is still alive. He sent us a message a little while ago. Actually, he sent it to the whole country.”
He was processing information a little slow still and he didn’t quite grasp what she told him. “Ellie?”
She nodded, smiling now. She leaned closer to him and grabbed his hand. “She’s still alive. You need to get your shit together if we’re going to help her.”
He looked into her brown eyes and saw she was telling the truth. Something nudged back into place inside of him and he took a breath. “What did it say?”
“The message?”
He nodded.
“Maybe you should wait ‘till you’re sober.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I need to hear it now.”
She looked him in the eyes again and nodded. “Let’s go turn the TV on,” and she stood, reaching for his hand to help him up.
“TV?”
“Yes.”
He grabbed her hand and suddenly felt a little better. He was beginning to feel again and maybe that was a good thing. He stood slowly and leaned on her all the way into the kitchen where his little TV sat on the counter. She turned it on and tuned it to the local CBS affiliate. The story was still running.
Chapter 47
Ellie was bound to a chair in some kind of basement. She could hear water dripping nearby just behind her and someone periodically moving around above her through the ceiling. She had no idea how long she had been down here, only that her wrists ached and she had to pee.
She was still groggy from whatever her father had used to knock her out, and her mouth tasted like rubber. It made her a little nauseous and she wished she could have a drink of water. Her mouth was so dry her tongue kept sticking to the roof of her mouth.
“Hello,” she tried to shout, but her voice was just a hoarse squeak. She tried to conjure up some saliva in her mouth, but nothing seemed to come. “Hello!” She managed a little louder this time and she heard what sounded like a chair slide across the floor above her and then footsteps as someone walked over her. A door opened and the footsteps made their way down a staircase getting closer to her. She started to squirm. The man she now knew as her father came from behind her and stood towering in front of her. He was huge and she remembered trying to run into him that night in front of Mr. Lolly’s house. It had been like hitting a brick wall.
He smiled at her and reached out a hand to touch her face. She flinched and turned away. When he did not touch her, she opened her eyes and saw he was now frowning. He moved behind her and worked on her wrists, untying the bindings. Her hands came free and she rubbed them trying to work some feeling back into them.
“Can I have a drink?” she asked.
He walked to a mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. Handing it to her, he sat down in a chair in front of her. She gulped the cold water too fast and started coughing on it. She couldn’t help it, it felt so good.
“Go easy,” he said. “It will make you sick.”
She was surprised at the deep voice. She expected some babbling psychotic fool, but he sounded normal. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked.
“Keep you with me for a bit,” he said.
“Why?”
“You have a purpose in this life and you and I are going to fulfill it.”
She wasn’t following him and her confusion must have shown on her face because he almost chuckled.
“You are destined for something special and I will help you reach it.”
“What am I destined for?”
