Had they split up for a reason? Did she have Sam, and Colin had Zoe?
"I'm afraid something's happened to her."
"What?"
Sheryl had been holding up pretty well, but at this she began to cry.
"She--she wasn't herself when she called me. She told me everything. Then she hung up and that was it. I've called her number at least twenty times but I get no answer."
"Have you reported what she told you to the police?"
"Yes, of course. But...I knew you were looking for that girl and I thought you'd be interested, too."
Forced to slow as he approached one semi trying to pass another on the two-lane highway, he took the shoulder. "I am. Thank you."
She sniffed. "Tiffany told me Paddy's dead."
Jonathan had suspected as much. "I'm sorry."
A long silence ensued during which she struggled to come to grips with her emotions. "It's over. I'll have to live with what Colin's done. Just--"
her voice broke "--just make sure you catch him, okay? Make sure you catch him and put him away before he can hurt anyone else."
"I'll do that," Jonathan promised. But whether or not he could accomplish it before Colin killed Zoe and Sam remained to be seen.
Feeling the same terrible dread he'd experienced the night he'd received that panicked call from Maria, when she'd whispered that she needed him to come and get her, he punched the gas pedal. He'd arrived too late to save Maria.
He would not be too late for Zoe and Sam....
His injured nose and the fight he'd had with Tiffany over her refusal to stay behind and wait for the police had taken the fun out of what he'd planned for this evening. Colin got to Chester just as it was turning dark--he'd made good time--but the anticipation he'd felt was gone. He could no longer breathe through his nose, swallowed blood every time he tried. And his head was aching like a son of a bitch.
"I can't believe what that whore did to me," he muttered as he parked beneath some trees. He'd probably have to get a nose job, and nose jobs weren't cheap. How could he afford surgery? He had to assume he was unemployed. He hadn't heard the words You're fired yet, but it was only a matter of time. Besides, about a hundred calls from Jonathan Stivers, Misty or someone else at the firm had been trying to reach him on his cell for the past couple of hours. No doubt, Scovil knew he'd left early.
He'd finally silenced the ringer.
His headlights illuminated a dark, poorly built house, but he scarcely looked at it. Jamming the gearshift into Park, he sat in the car, thinking about losing his job and possibly his nice house. Did he know what he was doing? Was he as impervious to reversals as he'd thought?
No. He'd made a terrible mistake. Because of Zoe. Without her, he would've stayed at work, finished the contracts and somehow won Mr.
Scovil's confidence. If not for Zoe, he'd still be able to say he was part of a prestigious law firm. Even if he got another job, it wouldn't be the same.
He'd lose the instant respect he received when he mentioned the names of his senior partners. And if Scovil fired him, he might not get on anywhere else. Most of the attorneys downtown knew each other. Word would get around. That meant he'd have to open his own practice. But he couldn't be successful without clients.
How would he win clients away from the big boys if his reputation was trashed?
Sam was asleep on the seat beside him, but he spoke to her anyway.
"You just wait," he said, turning off the engine. He'd offered to kill her quickly. Zoe should've taken him up on that. Instead she'd broken his nose, and now he'd make sure Sam died a slow death--right in front of her mother.
First, however, he had to take more painkillers. He'd gone into the bathroom at the gas station and tried to do a line of coke. He knew he wouldn't need painkillers if he could get high. But attempting to snort caused more bleeding.
By the time he'd carried Sam into the cabin and was on his way back for Zoe, Colin was so depressed he didn't feel like torturing either one of them. He wished he'd brought Tiffany along. She always knew what to do when he didn't feel well. She'd rub his neck tirelessly, put him to sleep.
Maybe he'd leave Zoe and Sam here and head home to his wife....
No, that would require more driving. He'd call Tiffany and have her come to him. That was it. She could skip work tomorrow, call in sick again.
He needed her. He'd feel better after he apologized for being such a jerk.
She'd said she hated him, and he'd made her pay for it, but he regretted that now. Tiffany hadn't meant it. She was the only person in the world who truly loved him.
What'd gotten into him lately?
Too much coke...
Taking his BlackBerry from his pocket, he stood by the trunk of the car and checked for service. Pleasantly surprised to find he could make a call, he dialed his wife.
"Hello, this is Tiffany Bell. I can't get to the phone right now but leave me a message and I'll call you back."
He waited for the beep. "Hey, why aren't you picking up? I miss you, Tiff. I was an ass**le at the cabin today, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did. It wasn't me--it was the drugs. I wish you were here. Can you come up?"
He expected her to call him right back. She never let it go more than a few minutes before she returned his calls. But he'd dragged Zoe in from the car, tied her up in the back room with Sam, then watched TV for an hour, and Tiffany still hadn't called.
At that point, he began to call her again and again. Once, twice, three times. Where the hell was she? Four, five, six times. Did she think this was some sort of game? That she could punish him for mistreating her? She'd caused everything when she let Rover get away. That was the first domino to fall.
"It's your own fault!" he screamed into the phone. "Don't you dare think you can stonewall me, Tiff." Was she with Tommy? Was she enjoying herself too much to care that he was trying to get hold of her? Maybe Tommy was treating her more kindly, showing her what it was like to be with someone gentle.
He could see her falling for a guy like that, and it made him sick.
"You'll be sorry," he told her. "I'll drive down there and--"
The phone beeped, letting him know he'd run out of time for his message. He couldn't even bitch her out right now.
Exhausted and truly worried, he sank onto the couch. He'd taken some extra pain-reliever tablets, but it wasn't enough. He needed more. And then he needed to drive home. Forget Zoe and Sam. He'd kill them both so he could go find his wife.
Standing, he went to the kitchen to get a knife.
Zoe huddled close to her daughter, trying to give her as much warmth and comfort as possible. Sam still wore the swimsuit she'd had on when she was kidnapped, and it was far too cold in a house with no heat.