'Anybody ever tell you you're a lousy liar?'
'Anybody ever tell you it's impolite to hold people hostage?'
I laughed. 'You think
'Help me. Right. I bet you say that to all the girls.'
'Just the ones I tie to chairs,' I replied with a smile. 'So tell me, what'd they do?'
'What? Who?'
'Your family – what'd they do? Your mother cut your allowance? Your little brother read your diary? Maybe Daddy wouldn't let you drive the Bentley?'
'Don't you talk about my family.'
'Suit yourself,' I replied. I rose stiffly from the couch and padded into the kitchen. 'You hungry?'
'What?'
'I asked if you were hungry.'
'I – I don't think so.'
'Well, I'm starving.' I cracked open the fridge. Not much there – just a half a bell pepper, a few eggs, a hunk of cheddar cheese. 'Tell you what – I'm gonna make myself an omelet. You want some, you're welcome to it.'
Kate eyed me quizzically for a moment, but said nothing. I busied myself in the kitchen, chopping and whisking and grating. I found a skillet in the cupboard. A pat of butter and I was off and running. My stomach rumbled in anticipation.
'So,' she said finally, 'you some kind of doctor?'
'No,' I replied.
'Oh. I thought – I mean the clothes and all…'
'I stole them. And so far, you're pretty much the only one I fooled.'
'You got a name?'
'His name was Jonah. I guess that's as good as any.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Nothing,' I replied. 'Omelet's up.'
Plate in hand, I dragged a chair from Friedlander's dining set over to Kate's armchair and sat down beside her. The omelet was steaming, and the mingling scents of sauteed pepper and melted cheddar were intoxicating. Kate tried her best to look disinterested. I split the omelet in two with my fork and scooped up a goodly bite, offering it to her.
She shook her head. 'You think I'm eating that, you're nuts.'
'Fine by me,' I replied. I stuffed the forkful into my mouth. It wasn't half bad. I chased it with another, and then another. Soon, I'd polished off half the omelet. I was about to start in on the other half when she finally caved.
'Wait,' Kate said. 'Maybe just a bite.' I gathered up a forkful and held it out to her. She frowned a moment, still doubtful, and then took the bite. Her eyes went wide. 'It's good,' she mumbled grudgingly as she chewed.
'You ask me, it coulda used a little Tabasco, but it turned out OK. When's the last time you had anything to eat?'
She shrugged against the restraints. 'Dunno.' Kate wolfed down a couple more bites, just as fast as I could feed her. Soon, fork hit plate, and I set both aside. 'Water,' she said. No please or anything, but still, it was progress. I filled a glass from the sink and tipped it to her lips. She lapped it up greedily, water dribbling down her chin.
'Easy,' I said. 'You're not careful, it's gonna come right back up.'
'Thought you weren't a doctor,' Kate said.
'I'm not, but I'm also not an idiot. You've been out a couple days – it's gonna take your stomach a little time to adjust.'
'A couple days? What in hell did you
'Hey, don't blame me – you were unconscious when I found you.'
'Then how–'
'Wait,' I said, 'you're telling me you really don't know?'
'Know
I ignored her question. 'Kate, before waking up here, what's the last thing you remember?'
Her face twisted into a scowl. 'I – I'm not sure. I remember coming down for breakfast. Mom was in the kitchen, packing lunch for me and Connor. Dad was on the phone in his study. Connor was at the piano playing 'Chopsticks' – Dad yelled at him to keep it down, said he couldn't hear himself think. Then things went a little fuzzy. I must have hit my head or something, because I remember smelling blood. After that, it's just fragments. My brother, crying. The scent of alcohol. Sirens, wailing in the distance. I think I might have spent some time in a hospital. I remember a bright light. Someone was screaming – I think it was me. Then I woke up here, tied to this chair.'
'That's all you remember?'
