by Diane Hoh
Tanner glanced around her. There was only one door in and out of the room, and the key to that door was in his possession. She would never be able to get it away from him. His shoulders were twice the size of hers. The only other door led to a tiny lavatory. But it had no outside door and no windows.
“You’re going to keep me a prisoner in here?” she asked when she found her voice again. “Why? Why would you do something so crazy? My father doesn’t have enough money to pay any ransom.”
“Oh, for pete’s sake, you’re not worth anything!” he said, his words heavy with contempt. “The instruments and the manuscripts are worth a hundred times your value.”
“Then what?” Tanner shouted. “What do you want?”
“Satisfaction,” he said clearly. “Satisfaction.” And began humming the melody to the Rolling Stones tune, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.”
His obvious calm when she felt as if she had fireworks going off in her stomach was maddening. “Well, I’m not staying in this room with you!” she cried, even though it was becoming increasingly clear that she wasn’t being given any choice in the matter. “I’m not!”
“Oh, I’m not staying,” he said nonchalantly, sitting up and facing her. “Nope, not me. I have places to go, things to do, people to see. But you, you’re not going anywhere. Of course, I’ll be back. Just can’t say when, that’s all. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not until Thursday. I have a very busy schedule.”
The news that he wouldn’t be staying was a massive relief to Tanner. Maybe, when he left, she could figure out some way to escape. Yes, of course she could. There had to be a way. It was just too ridiculous to believe that she could be kept a prisoner in her father’s music room. Crazy. Insane.
“What if I get hungry?” she asked as he got up and moved toward the door.
“Then you get hungry,” he said, shrugging. “Tough. Maybe it’s time for you to learn that you don’t always get what you want when you want it. A very valuable lesson, one I learned a while ago. If I remember, I’ll bring you something to eat when I come back. If I remember,” he added cruelly. “I’ve got a lot on my mind these days.” He bent to unplug the telephone from the wall, wrapped the cord around it and cradled it under his arm.
She hadn’t thought for a second that he would be dumb enough to leave the telephone, but seeing it in his possession, knowing he was about to walk out of the room with her only means of communication under his arm, made her headache worse.
“You can’t just leave me here like this,” she said. “It’s … it’s stupid! Anyway, my friends will come looking for me.”
“Well, we’re going to take care of that little detail right now.” He pulled a sheet of paper and a pen from his pocket. Handing both items to her, he said, “Write what I tell you.”
“No.” Tanner curled her hands into small fists. “I’m not writing anything.”
“Yes, you are.” He dropped the pen and paper in her lap. His voice hardened as he added, “And you’d better start realizing who’s in charge here, miss, if you know what’s good for you.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked, hard. “Now write!”
Tanner picked up the paper and pen and wrote as he dictated.
I’m not going to stay in this house alone. I’ve gone to join my mother in the Orient. Sorry, Charlie, but I know you’ll understand. I’ll send you all postcards. See you next fall!
Love,
Tanner
“My friends will never believe that I’d just take off without calling them to say good-bye,” Tanner said stubbornly. “And this note makes it sound like I was afraid to stay here alone. They won’t buy that, either. They know how much I was looking forward to it. I just talked to them a little while ago about having a party.”
“They’ll believe it when you don’t show up for class and you don’t call them. I’m going to hang this note on the mailbox. They’ll see it when they come looking for you. Even if they should get suspicious and go to the police, this note is in your handwriting. You’re all grown up and can go wherever you want. The police will think that you left of your own free will, and no one knows how to get in touch with your old lady to check things out, so …”
“How do you know that?” Tanner regarded the ugly mask suspiciously, “And how did you know this room was soundproof? How do you know so much about me and my family?”
The head tilted slightly. “Oh, didn’t I mention that I know your father? Pretty well, in fact. To know the man is to love him. Not.”
“You know my father? That doesn’t tell me anything. Lots of people know my father. And if you’re mad at him, why are you punishing me? I didn’t do anything to you.”
“You ask too many questions. And look, when I come back,” he added sternly, “I expect this place to be shipshape. Keep it neat and orderly, hear? That’s the way the doc likes it.”
It was when he said “neat and orderly” that Tanner remembered Silly. Of course! Okay, so it looked like Tanner Melissa Leo was going to have to spend one very long night locked in this room. But, come morning, Silly would be here, bright and early, letting herself in with her own key, and Tanner would hear her coming in and yell …
Well, no, that wouldn’t work. Because in this room, she wouldn’t hear or be heard.
But, thanks to the surveillance cameras, the result of her father’s rampant paranoia, she’d be able to see Silly coming in. At least she’d know there was someone else in the house. And even if she couldn’t make the housekeeper hear her, sooner or later Silly would tackle the music room as part of her daily chores.
Tanner breathed an inner sigh of relief. She could put up with one night in this place. It would be horrible, but she could do it. And tomorrow, Silly would set her free.
And then it was straight to the police, first thing, no question about that. This guy, whoever he was, couldn’t be allowed to run around loose. He was dangerous.
He opened the door. “Oh, by the way,” he said cheerfully, “don’t expect your housekeeper to show up tomorrow morning. She had a little accident today and won’t be in for a while. You’ll have to keep this place neat all by your little lonesome. See that you do.”
And as Tanner stared after him, open-mouthed, he left, closing the door after him.
A second later, she heard the key turn in the lock.
Chapter 5
WHEN THE TELEPHONE RANG in the small, cluttered room at Lester dorm shared by Jodie Lawson and Sandy Trotter, both girls were lying on their beds, reading. Jodie grabbed for the phone first. She’d been hoping for a call from Luke Hopper, a very interesting-looking guy in her chem class.
The voice did belong to a guy, but it wasn’t Luke. “Oh, it’s you, Charlie,” Jodie said, thin shoulders in flannel pajamas slumping in disappointment. “What’s up? Tanner’s not here, if that’s why you’re calling.”
Sandy listened with mild curiosity as her roommate, glasses resting on her short, slightly turned-up nose, talked to Tanner’s boyfriend. Charlie, a leader on campus, often called to make plans for some event or outing. Sandy, who hated to sit still for more than five minutes, was always interested in something new and different to do.
But this conversation didn’t sound like planning.
“Well, she’s not here,” Jodie repeated, sitting back down on her bed, pajama-clad legs crossed. “I thought she was going to the library.”
They talked a few minutes more, then Jodie replaced the receiver. She turned to face Sandy, her hazel eyes concerned. “Charlie says he’s been calling Tanner all night and she’s not answering.”
“Maybe she just didn’t hear the phone. She could be in that stupid music room, practicing. She said you can’t hear a thing when you’re in there. It’s soundproof.”
“She hates that room. She’d never go in there. Besides, there’s a phone in there, I’ve seen it.”
“Is Charlie worried?” Sandy began brushing her hair. It was long, blonde, and very straight. She constantly twirled strands of it around
a finger, a nervous habit. “I know they talk every night before they go to bed. Can’t he miss one night? It won’t kill him, will it? It’s not like he won’t see her first thing in the morning.” A faint note of envy slipped into her words. Sandy dated a lot, but so far, that one great romance had passed her by. She wanted what Charlie and Tanner had. Everyone on campus knew what a great thing they had going. They’d all seen it. And Sandy wasn’t the only one envious of their happiness.
“That’s not the point, Sandy. What Charlie wants to know is why Tanner isn’t answering the phone.” Jodie thought for a minute, swinging her legs against the bed. “I guess she could be in the shower. I just hope she calls him the minute she’s out, or he’ll never sleep tonight.” She looked at Sandy doubtfully. “So, do you think we should do something? I mean, we could get dressed and run on over to Tanner’s, make sure she’s okay.”
“Of course she’s okay.” The thought of getting dressed at this hour, maybe even having to go out without makeup on because putting it on would take too much time and Jodie would have a fit, annoyed Sandy. “When is Tanner ever not okay? I mean, the way she talks, she practically raised herself after her father left to come here. Her mother wasn’t exactly Mary Poppins, from the sound of things. Tanner can take care of herself. And I need to get some sleep.”
Jodie glared at her. “How can you be so sure that Tanner’s okay?”
Sandy shrugged. “She just always is, that’s all. Night.” And she rolled over on her side, tugging the blankets up over her shoulders.
At the Sigma Chi house, Charlie Cochran wasn’t sleeping. He was sitting at his desk, his hand on the telephone. He had called every friend of Tanner’s that he knew, and none of them had seen or heard from her. Then he had called her house again, repeatedly. He let the phone ring dozens of times, but there was no answer.
It was nearly midnight. Tanner wasn’t with Jodie and Sandy, her best friends. And she certainly wasn’t with her boyfriend.
So where was she?
Her father was off to Hawaii. The housekeeper, Silly, would have gone home long ago. Which left Tanner in that house alone.
Charlie sat in his desk chair, staring at the shiny hardwood floor. He had nervously run his hands through his dark, shaggy hair so many times, it was standing on end. His roommate was asleep, and the house on a Tuesday night was fairly quiet, so he had no trouble concentrating. But he didn’t know what to do.
The uneasiness Charlie felt was new to him. Charlie Cochran didn’t get uneasy. He had four brothers and had grown up rough and rowdy, learning quickly to take whatever came his way and either bend with it or fight back. It took a lot to knock Charlie’s solid underpinnings from beneath him.
His feelings for Tanner had almost done just that. Like her, he had dated a lot in high school, but also like her, had never had really strong feelings for any one person. Until he’d walked into the rec center at Lester one day shortly before Christmas and seen a tall, slim girl with long, dark, wavy hair standing in front of the jukebox pondering the selections. She had the prettiest face he had ever seen, and when she looked up and smiled at Philip, standing opposite her, Charlie felt as if someone had just turned on a dozen strobe lights. Corny, he knew, but everything about that night was incredibly corny.
Charlie had asked her to dance.
She had smiled that wonderful smile and said, “Sure, I’d love to.”
They’d been together ever since.
Charlie stood up. He couldn’t go to sleep without talking to her. Couldn’t. Didn’t even want to try.
He grabbed his windbreaker and left the room.
Chapter 6
TANNER SAT FROZEN IN the black leather chair for long minutes after the door to the music room had been closed and locked. Unable to hear the sound of the front or back doors closing, she couldn’t be sure he’d really gone. Then she remembered the cameras.
Her head shot up, her eyes darting toward the screens high on the wall, one in each of two corners. The screen on the left showed a view of the front of the house, the screen on the right a view of the backyard. But she had waited too long. There was nothing there now but the empty front walkway, the yard, and a deserted Faculty Row. In the backyard, she saw only shrubbery, flowerbeds, the gazebo and the garden benches and trees.
If he really had left the house, she’d missed his departure.
She would have to remember the screens. If nothing else, she could at least see what was going on outside.
She stood up, her knees shaky. Looked around her. Nothing had changed, nothing looked any different than it had the first time she’d been in this room, except that the pillows on the couch were wrinkled from him. Him! Who was he? Someone her father knew. But her father knew everyone on campus and a lot of people in Twin Falls. The intruder could be anyone. His voice hadn’t sounded familiar, although he could have been disguising it. But she was sure she didn’t know anyone who could be so cruel, so horrible, so vicious.
But if he wasn’t someone she knew, why did he have to be disguised?
Tanner began walking nervously around the perimeter of the room, lost in confused thought. How had this happened? She had gone to the library, Charlie had walked with her, they’d kissed on the front steps, she’d gone inside and done her research, then she’d come home. She could remember now how contented she had felt, walking across campus in the dark, anticipating arriving home to no Dr. Milton Leo anywhere in sight, only Silly and a warm dinner.
Silly. An accident, the intruder had said. What kind of accident? And how did he know?
Tanner’s heart rolled over in fear. Was Silly all right? He hadn’t hurt her, had he?
She had to get out of this room and find out if Silly was all right.
Tanner glanced up at the windows. Miles above her. Miles and miles, way up there close to the ceiling. No one passing by could see her, nor could she pound on the panes and shout to attract someone’s attention. Impossible. The windows were of no use at all.
She went, then, to the heavy wooden door. Rattled the brass knob, pulled, tugged on it, but it was no use. The rest of the house was definitely locked away from her. Frustrated and frightened at the thought of spending an entire night in this room that she hated so, she delivered a vicious kick to the door, forgetting that she was in her bare feet. All that did was send a shaft of pain up her leg.
Limping slightly, she returned to the leather chair and sank down into its cool, slick folds.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said aloud. “I Do Not Know What To Do.”
Was he really going to keep her imprisoned in this room? There was nothing to eat in here, nothing to drink, although there was a tiny sink in the lavatory where she could at least scoop a handful of water from beneath the faucet. She had only had a sandwich and chips for dinner. She’d be hungry soon. The thought of not being able to meander into the kitchen and fix whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased, began to sink in.
When she became hungry, she couldn’t go to the kitchen and grab something to eat.
Her bare feet were cold, but she couldn’t run up to her bedroom and grab a pair of warm socks.
She couldn’t go into the bathroom down the hall from her bedroom and brush her teeth or wash her face.
She couldn’t go anywhere, and she couldn’t call anyone to come and let her out, because he had taken the telephone when he left.
It was very, very dark outside. Only a tiny glimmer of pale yellow from the corner street lamp was reflected in the skylight and windows.
Tanner got up and turned on another lamp. Then another, until all three of the small desk lamps on the end tables and her father’s desk were glowing.
It didn’t help.
She walked over to the fireplace. It was no longer used. There was no burned ash lying on the clean white stone. Her father had said, “The smoke would be harmful to the instruments” and she’d had to bite her tongue to keep from replying, “Then why have a fireplace in here?” She had decided the
room hadn’t always been a music room, hadn’t always been soundproofed, had perhaps at one time been some nice family’s living room, a room filled with laughter and light and a roaring fire blazing in the fireplace, with windows placed at normal heights to look out upon the world and let the world look right back in.
To the left of the fireplace was a large wood-box with a hinged lid. Tanner lifted the lid. No wood inside, of course. Why have wood for a fireplace you’re never going to use?
She could have used a heavy log as a weapon, waiting behind the door with it in hand until he returned and then slamming it against his head as he entered. Right now, that kind of action seemed like her only hope. But … there was no wood, and she didn’t see anything else in the room to use as a weapon.
The lid dropped with a thunk that startled her in the deafening silence of the room.
She had just turned away from the woodbox when a movement on one of the square, grayish screens above her head caught her attention. The picture was so small, she had to squint to see clearly.
And her heart leaped for joy. Charlie! Hurrying up the front walk! At this hour?
Of course. They hadn’t had their good night talk. They had agreed that they couldn’t sleep until they’d told each other good night. And tonight, the intruder had prevented her from having that ritual conversation with Charlie. He must have called, probably more than once. She hadn’t heard the phone ring, and couldn’t have answered even if she had heard it.
So he’d become worried. He knew she was there alone. He must be frantic, wondering why she hadn’t answered the phone.
Tanner ran to the door, whispering, “Charlie, Charlie, you’re such a good guy! You’re the best, Charlie!” She raised both hands, curled into fists, and began pounding with all of her strength. She kicked, too, first with one foot, then the other, anything to make noise, anything to break the awful silence and tell Charlie she was in the house, yes, she was, she was here, all he had to do was come in and get her.