Chapter Thirty-Three
(Thursday, 7:20pm—Carl)
Carl paced angrily in the empty office. Danny Sheffield was going to wish he’d never been born. Sending those two goons to grab him just as he’d left the Caller-Times building had been bad enough, but they were holding a little girl here. A little girl who looked like the pictures of Kate Bradshaw, the 12-year-old who’d been abducted and whose dress had washed up on the beach with what had been left of Junior Bentley. Except…maybe Bentley hadn’t washed ashore after all. Because why would he have her dress?
Carl was pretty sure they would try to kill him. Maybe negotiation had been conceivable earlier—or they wouldn’t have been so careful with the blindfold on the way here. Nobody cared what a dead man had seen.
But later, when they’d let him out to use the bathroom, the girl had managed to sneak out of wherever they kept her. She’d spotted him and had run in his direction, screaming for help. He hadn’t been able to do a thing for her, though. One thug had been holding a gun on him already and the other had come up behind the girl and carried her back in the direction she’d come from. So now he’d seen her, and he’d seen the looks the thugs had given each other too. Taking a bribe wouldn’t work anymore, if it had ever really been an option.
This was his own fault. He’d walked right out of his office and headed for his truck as if he didn’t have a care in the world, when he should have known damn well not to go to the office in the first place. Or home, or anywhere else Sheffield could find him before their meeting. Even worse, he’d probably mentioned going to the office during their phone conversation.
Carl checked his watch. He’d missed the meeting almost three hours ago. Sheffield had probably shown up at the mall, waited around a bit, and gone about his business. Clever bastard. The police wouldn’t be able to do a thing to him.
They might even decide Carl had just flaked out. Maybe they wouldn’t look for him for a few days, at least. Carl hadn’t missed the edge of anger in Gordon’s voice when Carl had told him about making the call to Sheffield from the car. Maybe Gordon would just figure he’d been afraid to go through with it. That would have been stupid, calling but not showing up, but going to the office had been even worse.
So Carl had to save himself. And the girl. But there was nothing in the room he could use. No weapons, nowhere to hide, no means of communication with anyone outside the building.
He had to find some way to make the situation more fluid. Evil clearly held the advantage at the moment. If he sat quietly, waiting for their next move, it would all be over. But what could he do? They’d been decent enough to let him use the bathroom, but it had only been an hour ago. And now they had less reason to worry about his good opinion anyway.
These guys were probably just waiting for Sheffield to show up, once he’d satisfied himself he wasn’t being followed. And when they told him about the girl running out like that, Carl figured he wouldn’t live out the night.
The kid had looked as if she’d thought he would help her. He’d stood there while a guy had held a gun on him, and she’d thought he could help. He shrugged angrily, still pacing. So okay, he had to find a way. Damnit, there had to be something he could do.
What the hell. Why not knock on the damn door and see if they’d let him out to use the bathroom again? Maybe they’d go for it, and screw up somehow. And even if they didn’t let him out, he could make a lot of noise. If they got used to the noise, maybe he could break out of the room in some other direction. The interior walls looked pretty thin.
Anything was better than patiently waiting.
Especially when he was waiting to die.
***
Shiver on the Sky Page 53