15 Seconds

“No, nothing fancy like that. But there might be some kind of restitution for him pending. I just need a sign-off on some paperwork. Problem is, we’ve been trying to locate him, with no success. Three ninety-four Partridge Row? In Acropolis?”

“That’s where we live. Where we used to live anyway,” Amanda corrected herself. “Just a trailer. We lost our home a few years back. After my mom died.”

“Sorry.” I tried to find a way to win her over. “I was hoping you might help me out. We’ve called; sent a registered letter. He hasn’t responded. It’s pretty important actually. We’ve been down every other path.”

“Truth is, I don’t have a clue in hell where my father is, Mr… Holmes. Nor would I give a damn even if I did. I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time coming all the way up here.”

I frowned. At least one thing was clear-she surely wasn’t covering for him. “Do you mind if I ask when the last time you saw your father was, Ms. Hofer?”

“Saw him… ?” She bunched up her lips. “Months. Not since my trial. Bastard hasn’t shown up here once. Spoke to him…?” She shrugged. “Maybe a month or so ago. He called. He sounded pretty strange. Like he had made up his mind on something. Haven’t heard from him since. The sonovabitch could be dead for all I know or care. Sorry-but we’re not exactly a Disney World commercial, he and I… You know what I’m sayin’? Hope you got a million bucks lined up for him, Mr. Holmes. Would serve him right if you did and he was dead. And me… Well I sure as hell won’t be spending any of it anytime soon. Sorry…”

She put her hands on the counter, about to get up.

“You must have some idea. Did he say where he might go? Or do you know where he could have headed? This is a matter that has to be taken care of now.”

She shook her head. “I wish I could help you, Mr. Holmes, but-”

“Please…” Our eyes met and I knew she heard the desperation in my tone. “Please, just sit down…”

Haltingly, Amanda let herself back down in the chair, looking at me even more curiously. “You’re not exactly sounding very legal-like there, Mr. Holmes, if you know what I mean…”

“No.” I nodded, swallowing. “Truth is, I’m not.” I took a breath. “And my name’s not Holmes. I only used his card and ID as a way to get in here. I needed to talk with you, Ms. Hofer… Amanda, if that’s okay… Because someone’s life depends on it. Someone very close to me. Just hear me out. Then you can go. Please…”

She didn’t respond one way or the other, but she continued to sit there, curling her hair with a finger, her dull, dishwater-colored eyes growing slightly more alive and interested. “All right.”

I lowered my voice. “Whatever you may think, please don’t react or get up. Just let me tell you why I came. My name is Steadman, Amanda. Doctor Henry Steadman. Does that name mean anything to you?”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, and she looked at me closely, offering me a thin, dubious smile. “This is a joke, right?”

“No. It’s no joke, Amanda. I wish to hell it was.” I kept my eyes on her. “So you know what I’m accused of.”

“I watch the news.”

“Then you know that the police are looking for me. And then you know I’m putting everything I have on the line to sneak my way in here and talk with you… ’Cause right now all I have is my freedom. You can turn me in anytime you like. You’ll probably get a reward or something. But someone’s life is on the line. My daughter’s life, Amanda. She’s just a year younger than you. Her name is Hallie. Will you hear me out?”

She pushed back a strand of hair, shaking her head. “Mr. Holmes or Steadman, or whatever your name is, you must be totally crazy…” But she nodded.

“Thank you.” I pressed my lips into a tight smile. “I don’t know exactly where to begin, and I don’t have a lot of time. Amanda, I’m going to tell you some things you may not want to hear. But they’re the truth. The gospel truth, so help me God. And the first thing is: I didn’t do any of the things I’ve been accused of.”

She curled a grin. “I heard that before. Everybody says that in here…”

“I know.” I smiled again. “I figured. But I swear it’s the truth. And I don’t mean to shock you by what I’m about to say next, but it’s your father who’s done them, Amanda. Not me. Your father had a policeman drag me out of my car in Jacksonville and then he killed him. He also killed a friend of mine in town. To make it look like it was me. He even bought a gun, in North Carolina, at a gun show, and used my name and address…”

She drew her eyes wide. “Why?”

“I know how this must sound. And I wish I could explain it all to you right now… But let it be enough to say that I spoke with him just yesterday, and he’s admitted it all-every last detail-at least to me. Somehow he blames me for what happened to you. Because I own a series of pain clinics down in South Florida and he’s become convinced that the pills you were on at the time of your accident, the Oxy, came from me. My clinic…”

By that point I expected Amanda to shout out for a guard. But instead, her eyes grew wide and a little angry. Not in denial, or at least that wasn’t what I was detecting. But in agreement. Corroboration. She shook her head. “That time I spoke with him, he said some things that didn’t make sense to me. About how people had to be made accountable. For all they’d done. I said, ‘What kinds of things, Daddy? What’re you talking about?’ He sounded like he was drunk. He just said he was going to be taking care of some things… Almost like he was sayin’ good- bye.”

“Amanda”-I leaned closer-“I know how this sounds, and how hard it must be to hear…”

“How it sounds?” She grunted a laugh. “How it sounds is like you’re talking about my ol’ man. That’s all it sounds. I asked about Wayne, my old boyfriend, and he said, ‘Don’t you worry about him none…’ He went on about it being him feeding me all those pills. And it wasn’t. It kind of scared me. And what’s really scared me is I haven’t heard a word from Wayne since… Not here or even written-”

“Amanda, your father told me that there were others who he did things to. Who he said he made pay. He described what he was going to do to my daughter…”

She sniffed and shook her head. “That crazy-ass sonovabitch… He’s got a host of hate in him.”

“Amanda, that’s not all.” I hushed my voice and leaned in closer. “I can already prove everything I just told you. And I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t that…” I drew in a breath. “That it’s not just about me. When he called the other day… it wasn’t just to gloat or ask how it feels that he’s ruined my life. He has my daughter, Amanda! He put her on the phone. He has her captive. I don’t know where. He wouldn’t say. He said he’d let me know when the time was right. But she must be terrified. You can imagine. And he said if I got caught, or if I gave up his name in any way-that he’d kill her. Just like he’s killed the others, Amanda. That cop. My friend Mike. Probably Wayne as well…”

She sat there staring blankly.

“Amanda, I need to know where he might have her. That’s why I’m here. I’m sorry I lied, but I had to get to see you somehow. And I didn’t know if you would hear me out or trust me. So you see I’m desperate, Amanda. I’m dying. You must have some idea where he would be. Look…”

I reached for my wallet and took out a photo. Of Hallie. In a UVA T-shirt, with her favorite jumper, Sadie. Her pretty face all lit up. I think it was the week she got accepted. Every time I looked at it, I could still see all the hope and excitement in her eyes…

“She rides. She’s expert at it. They want her to compete in college.”

Amanda stared at it. Something pleasing and pure in the way she looked at Hallie, almost as if Hallie were some idealized version of who she might’ve become. If things were different.

Then she pushed it back under the glass. “He’ll do it,” she said. “He’s just crazy enough to do what he says. I could hear it when he called. It was like he was tellin’ me good-bye…”

“If he has Hallie, it has to be somewhere remote,” I said. “He has to be able to keep her concealed and make sure no one is around to hear-’cause I know my little girl would fight. To the bone. It has to be someplace he’d be familiar with and feel secure. He only saw a photo of her in my office a few weeks back, so I don’t think he’s planned it out for months. So it has to be somewhere he would know. Can you think of any place? You’re my only hope.”

Amanda’s eyes remained steady, and when she blinked, there was some certainty in her gaze. “He has this place. It’s kind of a toolshed, where he would work. For hours sometimes. Back at our old home. In Acropolis.” She