He closed the door to his mother’s room. She’d eaten such a small amount, but maybe it was because he’d waited so late to feed her. He should never have hung around Johnny B’s so long—until after eight—but he’d been fascinated with the new waitress. He sighed and returned to the kitchen and quickly made a sandwich for Samantha Jo. Despite what the voices said, he’d finally concluded she would never be his Sharon. She was too young for one thing, too skinny, as well. And she kept lying to him, saying she didn’t have any children. He hated lying. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with her. He put the sandwich and a bag of chips on a tray with a soda. Had to feed her, though.
He paused outside the barn door, thinking again of the new waitress at Johnny B’s. She was afraid of something. He could smell it, just like he could smell Samantha Jo’s fear. He’d heard her say she had a child, a daughter. She should be home taking care of her. He’d already seen the truckers eyeing her, and he knew what they were thinking. Just like with his Sharon. But something wasn’t quite right with this new Sharon. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was because she reminded him of someone. But who? That didn’t come to him. But it would. Just like he could smell her fear, he never forgot a face.
It was an omen—that her name was Sharon. Maybe she was the one. He sighed. But then, what would he do with Samantha Jo? He pulled the ski mask down over his face and entered the barn. Moonlight filtered through the windows, and a single lightbulb dangled from the rafters over the cage.
He used a different voice every time he talked to her. Today he would use his soft, Irish accent. “Aire you hungry, lass?”
“Who are you today? Some Scottish dude?”
Her sarcasm irritated him. “Lass, I can take the sandwich back.”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Ya know the drill.” He smiled as she sat on the bed and waited for him to slide the tray through the slot.
“When are you going to let me out of here?”
He backed away from the door. “When I know you’ll stay. And when ya quit your lying.”
She took the napkin off the plate and picked up the sandwich. “I haven’t lied to you. I don’t have a child. Why did you take me, anyway?”
“I keep telling you, I’m saving the children.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You think I’m stupid.” He could hear it in her voice. Did she forget he was smart enough to kidnap her? Sweat formed under the ski mask. Maybe he’d put her in the dark. Then he could take the mask off. He walked to the switches that controlled the lightbulb and the blinds, but before he flipped them, he took the night goggles off the hook. In a matter of seconds, it was pitch dark inside the barn. He yanked the ski mask off and slipped the night goggles on.
She covered her face with her hands. “No! Don’t do that. I’m sorry. You’re not stupid.”
“Too late, lass, but if you’re good, I may flip the switches when I take my leave.”
“Please,” she whimpered.
“Eat your sandwich.”
She raised the sandwich in the air as if to throw it away.
“I went to a lot of trouble to make that. If you throw it on the floor, you’ll know the next time you get food . . . or any light in here. Now do what I said.”
She lowered her hand and bit into the sandwich. Gradually her face changed. “Okay, I get it—you’re saving the children, but how did you do it?”
“What?”
“Kidnap me.”
His chest swelled as he thought of his ingenious plan. Should he tell her? He’d told his mother, but as usual, she didn’t even comment. She was like everyone else who thought he was stupid. How he longed to show them all how wrong they were. What would it hurt to tell Samantha Jo? She would never leave here. Not alive, at least.
“Was I the first person you kidnapped?”
“No. I usually turned them loose.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like a game. I always sent the note first to warn them. It was plain enough—quit your job and stay home with your child. You know, like I sent you. Only most of the time I don’t mail it. Just leave it on a table with their name on it.”
“And you never got caught?”
“I wasn’t crazy enough to leave it on the table where I sat. It was such fun to watch their reaction when they opened it. I would have loved to have seen your reaction. But they were just like you. None of them ever quit their job until I kidnapped them.” He couldn’t understand why they didn’t follow the instructions. “Why didn’t you do what the notes said?”
“I thought it was a joke. Or meant for someone else.”
Hmm. Evidently, he would have to reword the note. “After I was certain the waitress intended to keep working, I executed the next phase of my plan. I waited until their shift was almost over and slipped GHB into their drinks.”
“How? Why didn’t someone see you?”
“Diners are busy and no one thinks someone will spike their drinks—after all, it’s a diner, not a bar. I always sat next to the waitress’s water station. If she wasn’t drinking anything, then I knew I wasn’t supposed to take her. But if she’d poured herself tea or coke, it was a sign.”
He laughed, keeping his voice low.
“Don’t do that. It . . . it sounds so evil.”
“I’m not evil! Do you know what happens to children of waitresses when their mother comes home? They’re beaten. And they never have a birthday party.” His voice rose until he was shouting.
She shrank back on the bed.
His anger disappeared as quickly as it had come. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. If all of you had just done what the note said.” His voice cracked. “But I never hurt anyone. I always dropped them off where they would be safe until the drug wore off.” Except for Tina. The voices had chosen her to become Sharon, not him. She would have had a good life with him, and he would have never hurt her if she hadn’t tried to escape.
“How did you get them into your car?”
“Some I didn’t. They’re still on the list. But sometimes after they started getting sick, they would come outside to get fresh air, and I would be waiting.”
“I don’t understand. If you were going to drop them off somewhere, why did you build this cage?”
“Because the—” He couldn’t tell her about the voices, that they’d told him to build it. She would think he was crazy. And he wasn’t. “It’s for Sharon.”
“Who is this Sharon? And why do you have a cage for her? If she loves you, she’ll stay without being a prisoner.”
He pressed his hand to his head. She was confusing him.
“Why did you put me in here?”
“You were different. You were like Robyn, except you didn’t have a husband.”
“Robyn? Tell me about her.”
“Not today.” He walked to the door. All these questions had his head spinning. And he didn’t want to think about Robyn.
At the door, he slipped the goggles off and hung them on the peg. Once outside, he reached back and flipped the switches. She’d been good. He would reward her. Even if she had opened the door to memories of Robyn.
With a jolt, he realized Robyn was the first waitress the voices told him to keep, but he’d said no—she was married, and he wasn’t a home wrecker even though she wasn’t happy. He’d seen her crying after that husband stopped by the truck plaza. He’d just wanted to help her, make her understand she needed to stay home with her daughter. She’d been the third waitress he’d kidnapped, and he truly intended to drop her at another location.
But the GHB hadn’t worked on her like it was supposed to. He’d almost been to the town where he planned to drop her off with another note warning her to quit her job when she came to. She’d fought him. Heaviness weighed in his chest. She’d made him hit her. After she saw his face, he’d injected her with Versed and planned to bring her back to the farm until he could decide what to do. But she’d managed to escape. He’d decided long ago
that she didn’t remember what happened or she would’ve come back and had him arrested.
He’d almost stopped after Robyn. The newspaper accounts had scared him that badly. With the first two, there’d been no newspaper account—he’d kept a careful watch. But the voices wouldn’t shut up. Just like they wouldn’t shut up about building the cage. Five months later, he encountered the waitress in South Carolina . . .
Outside the barn, he welcomed the cold air that cleared his head and checked his watch. Not quite ten. He walked to the house and climbed into his pickup.
He had a sudden urge to see the new waitress.
15
Sunlight filtered through the curtains Sunday morning, waking Robyn from a restless sleep. She glanced at her watch. Seven thirty. Unless something had changed, her mom had been up for at least an hour and a half and coffee was made. Maybe she could slip downstairs and grab a cup of coffee and get back to her room before anyone saw her. She didn’t want to play twenty questions this morning.
Abby sat at the table eating cereal when she entered the kitchen, and she almost turned around until Abby saw her. “Good morning.” She poured her coffee, glancing at her daughter. Abby was watching her, a guarded look on her face.
“Aunt Livy said you’re helping Mr. Alex and that’s why you said your name isn’t Susan. But you’re not supposed to tell stories.”
“I know.” She had to bring Abby around. They couldn’t let her go around asking questions at the wrong time. Robyn sat at the table. “Do you watch TV?”
Abby nodded.
“What I’m doing is like what those actors on TV do. I’m playing a role.”
“Are you trying to catch a bad guy?”
Robyn nodded. “I am.”
“Then I guess it’s okay. It’s just that my mom always said you had to tell the truth, even when it hurts.”
To sit this close to Abby and not gather her in her arms and tell her how much she loved her made Robyn ache. “Your mom’s right.”
“So, what is your name?”
Robyn hesitated. One lie brought another. “Why don’t you just call me Sharon for now?”
Unblinking, Abby stared at her. Finally she nodded. “Okay. For now.”
She relaxed a little but kept her guard up as Abby played with her cereal.
Her daughter looked up. “Why haven’t you asked where my mom is? I know somebody has told you she’s gone away.”
“They have.” She pressed her lips together, searching for the right answer. “It’s none of my business. I think if my mom was gone, I wouldn’t like people asking me about her.”
A frown line pinched Abby’s brow, then all at once the frown faded, and a grin started at the corners of her mouth and quickly stretched across her heart-shaped face. “I like you. That’s exactly what my mom would say, and sometimes you kind of even sound like her. She left a couple of years ago, but she’s coming back. I know she is.”
Robyn’s heart stilled in her chest for a second. She had to be more careful with her speech patterns. “I’m sure there’s a very good reason why she hasn’t come back.”
“Abby, where are you?” Livy’s voice came from the living room. “You need to get dressed or we’re going to be late to church.”
Abby spooned the last of her cereal into her mouth and put the bowl in the sink. “I’m coming.” She started to the door but hesitated. “Are you coming to church with us?”
“Not this Sunday. I’m still tired from yesterday. I think I’m going to catch a nap.”
“Good, then you’ll be here for lunch.” Abby tossed her a smile before she hurried out of the room.
Not if she could get out of it. Watching her words and the way she said them, guarding her every gesture—it was too much. She glanced up when Alex came into the kitchen dressed in a sport coat and tie. “You’re going to church?”
“Thought I would since I’m not flying to Nashville until later this afternoon.” He poured a cup of coffee. “You’re not?”
She shook her head. “I’m beat, and I need to be on top of my game tomorrow. I have a gut feeling the man who abducted me is hanging around watching, and I can’t afford to make any mistakes.” She tilted her head. “Do you think Samantha Jo is in Nashville?”
“I don’t know. Her wallet was found there, but with everyone asking questions and looking for her, whoever took her could have planted it at the bus stop to draw attention away from Logan Point. According to the Nashville Police Department, she hasn’t claimed it yet.”
Her cell phone rang. Johnny B’s Grill and Coffee Shoppe showed on her ID. “Hello?”
“Sharon, Johnny B here. One of the morning waitresses didn’t show up, and you did a good job yesterday. Could you cover for her, at least through the lunch crowd?”
No matter how good a job she’d done, the only reason he’d called was because no one else wanted to give up their Sunday. She didn’t hesitate, though—at least she wouldn’t have to be here for lunch. “Let me ask if I can get someone to run me over there.”
She turned to Alex. “Do you have time to take me to work? Johnny B’s is shorthanded this morning.”
Alex nodded. “Maybe I should stick around there for a while too.”
Robyn spoke into the phone. “I have a way. What time do you want me to come in?”
“Ten would be great. Thanks.”
The line went dead, and she laid her phone on the table. “Thanks for taking me, but you don’t have to change your plans. Whoever this guy is, he’s not going to make a move during the day. There would be too many people around.”
Alex nodded. “Keep me posted on how you’re doing . . . say, every thirty minutes? And see if you can work the day shift tomorrow since I’ll be in Nashville.”
“Sure, but really, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I think Livy will hang around.”
At five minutes before ten o’clock, Robyn put her purse in her locker and tied an apron around her waist. Johnny B introduced her to Tonya, one of the other waitresses on the shift, then when she walked through the restaurant, she recognized several more regulars from two years ago. Most of them she’d enjoyed serving, but one or two had been complainers. The food had never been right or the coffee was too weak, and they’d been stingy tippers as well. But, she couldn’t imagine any of them being her abductor. Still, someone from this diner, either employee or customer, had kidnapped her, and she believed his identity was locked somewhere within her memory. She was counting on him saying or doing something that would release it.
Callie beamed at her as Robyn picked up a ticket book. “Thank goodness you could come. I didn’t look forward to working the whole restaurant with just Tonya.”
Robyn shrugged. “I need the money.”
“You want to take the middle section of tables? I’ll work the back, and Tonya can get the front.”
“That sounds good to me.” Robyn nodded toward the four customers in her section. “Have they all ordered?”
“Jason and Bobby haven’t ordered. The others are waiting for their food. I’ll take care of that.”
“Which one came in first?” Robyn asked.
“Jason.” She started to leave, then turned back. “Did you hear about the car that went through the railing at the lake?”
“No. Was anyone hurt?”
“The driver escaped from the car, but so far the woman hasn’t been found. It happened sometime before daylight. I think they’re going to drag the lake.”
“How terrible for the families involved.” The sense of loss lingered in Robyn’s mind as she filled a water glass and walked to Jason’s table.
“Good morning.” She set the glass in front of Jason. She’d seen him around town all her life. Trapper, fisherman, single, and always polite. She’d been about ten when her dad took her to the taxidermy shop Jason’s father owned. Seeing all the stuffed animals had scared her at the time. Would still frighten her. “What can I get for you today?”
“Coffee to start with,” he s
aid. “I see you came back—wasn’t sure you would.”
“Yeah. This seems to be a good place to work. I’ll get your coffee.” If Jason was her abductor, there were no warning bells going off. She stopped at Bobby Cook’s table. “I’ll be back to get your order, but can I get your coffee?”
“You can take my order too. I want the usual.”
Ham and eggs, sunny side up, with biscuits and sawmill gravy. “Since I don’t know what the usual is, I’ll be right back. Black?” He grunted an affirmative. Bobby was on the borderline. Most of the time he was amiable, but he could get real cranky. She couldn’t see him kidnapping women, though. Seemed like he’d been an over-the-road driver once but worked as a sales rep for a food distributor two years ago. She didn’t know if he still drove a big rig. Maybe she could work that question into the conversation.
She nodded to Johnny B behind the cash register as she picked up a tray and two cups. He spent most of his time here at the grill, and he was here the night someone put GHB in her drink. But he didn’t drive a big rig. Or did he? Somewhere she’d seen a photo of him beside a big Kenworth. She poured a cup of chicory.
“You look like you need a refill.” She set the steaming cup beside him.
“Thanks, Sharon, and especially for coming in.”
“Glad to do it. Like I told Callie, I need the money.” She hesitated. “You ever drive one of those big rigs out there?”
He grinned. “Years ago, when I was young and handsome.” He pointed to a row of photos on the far wall. “That’s me, third photo from the end.”
“Why’d you quit?” She glanced where he pointed.
“I had this dream of a restaurant. Mama there”—he pointed again at the portrait of the waitress in pink—“she financed it.”
His tone indicated she was asking too many questions. But she had learned he’d driven a big rig once. Even so, Robyn had trouble believing Johnny B was the one who kidnapped her. “Well, I hope you enjoy your coffee.”
She walked to Jason’s table and set his coffee down. “Are you ready to order?” She poised her pen as more people drifted in.
“I think I’ll go with sausage and eggs.”
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