Little White Lies

Tied.

She tried to raise her heels, but her thighs wouldn’t budge.

Bound.

The voices came from her left. With a slow, precise, and controlled sway, she let her head fall to the right, peeked under half-closed lids. She moved it back to the center again. A sliver of light streamed from under a door, behind which voices reached her.

She swayed to the left again. The light outlined a body, stretched on a flat surface. Lily? Tears formed in her eyes. If he killed her, I’ll kill him. “Lily!” Charley whispered through a raw throat.

When Lily didn’t budge, Charley slid her feet back and forth.

Smooth floor.

Her hand touched the chair.

Metal.

She knew the sound of the chair against the floor would alert her captors to her conscious state.

How long have I been here? “Lily,” Charley whispered again. She bit back the cough before it broke free.

Her room’s companion hadn’t moved.

She swallowed a few more times, relaxed her extremities, toes first, until she’d shrunk enough to slip her feet out of the ties. Charley placed her feet on top of the rope and returned them to their normal state. She repeated the same effort with her chest, and the ropes fell free of her body. Those across her thighs, she untied.

Charley opened her eyes wide and caught the faint rise and fall of Lily’s chest. She tiptoed to the bed, knelt before it. The light from the door didn’t offer much illumination, but enough to know Lily lay at rest.

As long as she’s breathing, she’ll heal.

The room held no window, but a light she couldn’t turn on or they’d return-she assumed. She sat back in the chair and dropped her head into her hands. She wanted to cry, to wail, to scream, but she knew none of it would do any good. She couldn’t shift to an animal, and she wouldn’t leave Lily to fend for herself or become their sole hostage.

What do I do?

Why did Wyatt do this?

Charley went through the ride to the house.

He took our phones. When he showed up, what was different about him? She racked her brain for the answer. Nothing. The car. It wasn’t his, but surely he’s authorized to drive FBI vehicles? I’ve seen one. Where? Charley pulled at her hair. He didn’t kiss me. Why? Did he have all this planned? Was it all a ruse from the start? Big house. Big job. He’s got it all. Why? What could he possibly want from me that I haven’t already offered willingly?

Footsteps stopped when they reached her door.

“Is she awake?” Wyatt asked in a voice she knew so well.

“I dunno,” a new voice said.

“Haven’t heard anything in there,” a third voice said.

The same two who asked that very question moments ago.

“Well, let’s see,” Wyatt said.

Charley scrambled her thoughts. What do I do?

The knob turned, a rusty metal clanged as it disconnected from the door’s frame. Light poured into the room and blinded Charley for a moment. She blinked her eyes as they adjusted.

“So… you are awake,” Wyatt said. “You two are morons.” He pointed to the two outside the room.

“What do you want?” She croaked through a dry and parched throat.

“Just you,” Wyatt said with a grin Charley would classify as Jack Nicholson’s Joker-a mix of evil and shrewd combined with a gloss of happy.

She’d never seen him look so duplicitous. “Let Lily go, and you can do with me whatever you want.” She wished for some saliva so she could spit at him. He’d played her. Plain and simple.

“Now, we can’t have that,” Wyatt said. “We’ve so much to discuss. I have to give you my real thoughts about the last sixteen years.”

“Go to hell,” Charley said.

Wyatt laughed, but the sound didn’t match her memory.

Has he simply gone mad?

“C’mon, Charley. Only non-humans go to hell. The rest of us are forgiven of our sins and walk away unscathed.”

Not in my world, they don’t, and you won’t.

“Cat got your tongue?” Wyatt asked. “Nothing witty to say or apologize for?”

Apologize for? Haven’t I already done that a thousand times over? Is this payback?

“Nothing worth saying to someone who hits women,” she said.

“Get up.” His tone changed-cruel, with a dark resonance and no hint of kindness.

Charley obeyed, stretching her legs. She flexed her fingers, rolled her shoulders and shifted her hips-needed to gauge her own strength. She’d clocked him once. He’d likely be prepared for it a second time, but if she had nothing more, she’d use it.

Wyatt motioned her out the door.

Charley looked back at Lily.

“She’s not going anywhere,” Wyatt said.

The two women who’d chatted outside her door were dressed in nothing more than T-shirts and casual jeans. Their faces, though, told her exactly who they were.

Did they even have guns?

The bloom of recognition never enlightened their expressions. Wyatt’s minions only knew her as Mira.

***

James worked in the back to prepare additional wiring in case they did find the house. Maggie drove the van with Stuart in the front. Their vehicle followed Cael and Chase in the car ahead of them.

“Wyatt’s Director has three guys on their way. They’ll meet us at the bridge,” Stuart said from the passenger seat.

“The police have a team of three they’ll send,” James said. And it’s all based on a little boy’s recollection, in reverse.

With the van’s slow forward movement and incline, they’d reached the bridge and crossed it.

“There.” Stuart pointed through the front windshield at a bank of cars parked on the side of the road. Cael and Chase continued to drive on. Behind the van, the FBI’s cars pulled out one by one, a dark caravan of silence.

James’s cell buzzed with a call from Cael. “Chase says it’s right on the water, down a road. I’m going to turn down here and see what I can find. You guys hang back, and I’ll come get you.”

“Okay.” James relayed the information to Maggie, who pulled off to the side, and to Agent Timms with the FBI.

The cars behind them pulled to a stop. At nearly two in the morning, no one would notice the line of a dozen cars that sat idle.

“Chase has a great memory.” Stuart interrupted the silence.

“He does,” James said. “Here, you guys slip these on.” James handed them each a miniature microphone they would use for communication.

“What other talents might he have?” Stuart broke the new silence that enveloped them.

“Don’t know,” Maggie said. “Do you want to hear my other theory yet?” She pounded her fist against the steering wheel.

“No.” Stuart turned to look out the window.