The phone was ringing again. “I know, sweetie, I’m sorry. Mommy just has to take this, then we’ll get going, okay?” She groaned beside me. I gave her a little smile, but my heart raced as I glanced down at the phone. It was Billy. I let out my breath. Ally was kicking at the dashboard and singing again, but this time I didn’t try to stop her.
“Billy, thank God.”
“We got a good signal off the call.” His voice was clipped. “He’s in Kamloops and we’re doing a sweep of the area — every available officer is on the road. But I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“She’s alive — I
I heard voices in the background, then Sandy was on the phone.
“If he calls again you have to try to keep him on the line as long as possible. Let him do the talking. If by any chance he hasn’t killed her, we want to keep it that way.”
“But what do I say? I’m scared I’ll say something wrong and he’ll—”
“Just proceed cautiously.”
“What does that mean? Do I ask about her or not?”
Sandy sighed. “Just stay calm when you’re talking to him. He needs to hear you care about him, that you’re interested in him, that you’re sorry. He probably felt rejected when you ignored his calls—”
“I didn’t ignore—”
“Sara, do you really want to argue over semantics? A woman’s life may depend on this next call. What are you doing right now?”
I gritted my teeth against all the ways I wanted to tell her off and simply said, “I have to drive Ally to school.”
“She’s
“I was driving her to school, but he didn’t hear her.”
“If he finds out you never told him you have a child—”
“I don’t want that either, Sandy — she’s my
“Drop her off, then call us.”
I bit out, “Fine.”
As I pulled back on the road Ally said, “Is the woman okay, Mommy?”
Still going over Sandy’s call in my head, I said, “What woman, honey?”
“The one you were talking about with your client. You said she was missing.”
I tried to think back over what she might have heard. “Oh, she just got a little lost when she was walking home. But the police are going to find her soon.”
“I don’t like it when you talk on the phone so much.”
“I know, honey. And I really appreciate how good you were.”
She stared out the window.
In front of the school I got out and gave Ally a hug and a kiss. Her shoulders were slumped and her little face pinched. I pulled back and looked her in the eyes.
“Ally Cat, I know I haven’t been the best mommy lately, but I promise I’ll try harder, okay? This weekend Evan’s coming home and we’ll do something as a family.”
“With Moose too?”
“Of course!” I was relieved this earned a small smile at least. As Ally started to run to the doors of the school, she stopped and turned. “I hope the police find the lady who’s lost, Mommy.”
Me too.
As soon as I got home I called Billy. “What do you want me to do?”
“If he phones again, just remember what Sandy said, stay calm and let him talk. Don’t forget he’s calling because he’s trying to reach out. He’s in a highly emotional state and you seem to be the one person he feels can help him. He’ll probably call soon.” But he didn’t. I paced around my house, then tried to work in my shop but couldn’t focus. So I drank countless cups of coffee — which didn’t exactly help take the edge off — and spent hours Googling serial killers, hostage negotiation, all the while thinking about what could be happening to Danielle. I e- mailed Web page after Web page to Billy, feeling calmer each time I sent something and each time he answered, even if it was just a quick message:
Later that evening Ally and I were just sitting down to dinner when my cell rang. It was John.
Ally made a face as I got up from the table.
“I’ll just be a minute, sweetie. If you finish all your dinner we’ll watch a movie together after, okay? But you have to promise to be quiet as a mouse.”
She sighed but nodded and dug her spoon into her mashed potatoes.
I raced into the other room and answered the phone.
“John, I’m really glad you called back. I was worried.” I was still worried. I didn’t know if he was calling for help, or to tell me it was too late.
He didn’t answer.
“Is Danielle okay?”
“She won’t stop crying.” The frustration in his voice terrified me.
“It’s not too late. You can let her go. For me,
He was quiet.
I said, “Can I talk to her?”
“That wouldn’t be good for you.” His tone was parental. A father telling his daughter she can’t have another cookie.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He sounded frustrated again.
“You don’t have to do anything right now. Do you want to talk for a little bit? You asked me what I like to eat the other day. I was wondering what kind of stuff you like. Are you allergic to anything?”
“No, but I don’t like olives?” His voice rose at the end.
“I’m not a fan of them either — or liver.”
He made a disgusted noise. “Liver is the body’s filtration system.”
“Exactly.” I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “John, the other day you said the noise was getting bad. What did you mean? Is it bad now?” If I could figure out what the problem was, maybe I could use it to make him let Danielle go.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay, no problem. I just wondered if it’s something you can get help for.”
“I don’t need help.”
“I didn’t mean it like
“This conversation isn’t going anywhere.” He sounded exasperated. “I’ll call you another time.”
“Wait, what about Danielle—”
But he was gone.
I threw the cell onto the couch and put my head in my hands. The phone rang a minute later. I looked at the call display. It was Billy.
“Good work, Sara. He’s still in Kamloops, but we got a better location on him, so we’ve set up a couple of roadblocks on the main highway.”
“But if he sees a roadblock right after talking to me, won’t he suspect something?”