"I'll cancel with them."
Tiffany looked even more stricken. "But you promised you'd pass her off to them!"
Unwilling to let her ruin the fun, he whirled on her. "I'm going to kill her, okay? That should be good enough for you! One night. I'm only asking for one night! So unless you want me to kill you, too, I suggest you do exactly as I say. Now!"
Her chest rose, then fell in quick succession. "Kill me?" she echoed. "I know you didn't mean that."
He shook his head. "Just get out of here."
She didn't move. A tear rolled down her cheek, so he made himself give her a hug because he knew he'd gain her compliance more quickly that way. "I'm sorry, babe. Work with me here, okay? I'm stressed out. We've gone too far to stop now. We have to prepare for the worst."
She sniffed as he pulled away. "Okay. I'm gone. I'm going right now,"
she said, but didn't actually leave. "What about the private investigator?"
"I've already taken care of him."
"How?"
"I used her phone to text him, saying she's leaving our place and getting a room for the night, that she'll call him in the morning. Eventually, when she doesn't check out of the motel tomorrow, someone will find her car, and they'll connect it with the room rental. We'll be fine."
"That's smart," she said. "You're so smart, Colin."
"I'm a lawyer, babe. Would you expect any less?"
"No. Nothing less." The door slammed shut as she went out.
"Zoe?" Colin grabbed her chin and jerked her face toward him. He was looking into her eyes, but he wasn't sure she was really seeing him.
"Zoe, can you hear me?"
His words didn't seem to register. "Damn. That stuff hit you harder than I thought it would." He shouldn't have used it. He should've just dragged her upstairs and tied her up. But he'd been planning to put on a show for his friends. And he'd never attacked an adult before, hadn't wanted to underestimate what could happen. If she got loose long enough to scream or throw something at a window, it could attract the attention of a neighbor.
Maybe even Anton.
Rolling her forward, he unhooked her bra so he could stare at her while he canceled with his friends.
"What do you mean you can't do it tonight?" Tommy cried. "We were all set, man!"
"Sorry, Tiffany has the flu."
There was a slight pause. "Okay, so we'll get together at my place.
Leave her at home to recuperate."
"I can't leave her when she's sick."
"Why not?"
"What kind of husband do you think I am?" he said and hung up.
Then he scooped Zoe into his arms and carried her upstairs.
Chapter 22
To stave off his exhaustion, Jonathan took a big gulp of the coffee--now long cold--in the cardboard cup he'd left in his car. He'd just finished visiting Marti Seacrest and her parents. If not for the boy in the hospital, which could turn the situation around, Jonathan would've thought Sam's case was hopeless. There just weren't any leads. He'd never confronted a missing-person situation where he had less to go on. Even his interview with Sam's best friend hadn't yielded any new information. Just as he'd been told before, Marti insisted that Sam hadn't acted any differently in the week leading up to Monday. She hadn't met anyone new, wasn't talking about a particular boy or an Internet pal or an adult who'd befriended her since she'd been off school.
Once he mentioned that Zoe and Anton had split up, she did elaborate on Sam's dislike of her potential stepfather. Marti said Sam called Anton a
"control freak." But that didn't come as any shock to Jonathan. He'd already sensed her disdain for Anton from the way she'd hidden his face whenever he was in one of those pictures on her bulletin board.
An image of the Simpson boy appeared in his mind. Would Toby regain consciousness? Would he ever remember?
Jonathan's BlackBerry vibrated. Putting down his cup, he leaned back so he could retrieve it from his pocket and found a text message waiting for him:
Not feeling well. Getting a motel. Call u tomorrow.
It was from Zoe. Surprised that she'd decided not to come over, and that she hadn't called to hear whether he'd managed to uncover anything new today, he tried to call her back but got her voice mail.
Obviously, she was avoiding him. And even if she wasn't, he was crazy to keep pushing for more contact. He was setting himself up to get burned. Again. But she needed friendship and support; she shouldn't be alone in some motel room in the midst of such a crisis.
Or was that his libido talking?
He tried to reach her again, with the same result.
Sighing, he put his phone on the console and started his car, but a call came in just as he left the neighborhood--and this time the number brought a smile. "Finally," he muttered and pushed the Talk button.
"Now that you're Mrs. Fornier you don't have time for your old friends?" he teased.
Jasmine's laugh made him miss her all the more. "Sorry. Romain and I were out on the bayou."
"The same bayou that has those crocodiles you're so scared of?"
"Boy, you're a real nature buff," she said with another laugh. "They're alligators."
"They both have sharp teeth and can make a mess out of you, right?"
"Right. I wouldn't want to come face-to-face with one. But they usually keep their distance. Romain knows what he's doing, so I'm safe as long as I'm with him. What's going on?"
Planning to stop by Zoe's neighbor's house to see if she'd left yet, he got onto Highway 65--and encountered a sea of brake lights. There'd been an accident or a spill or something up ahead. "I need your help, Jaz," he said.
"Your message made it sound as if you're on a tough case."
"I could be dealing with one of the sickest bastards I've ever come across."
There was a pause. "What have you got?"
He explained what they knew about Samantha Duncan's abduction, including the recovery of the Simpson boy.
"He was found in the woods?" she said when he'd finished.
Wondering what was blocking traffic, he tried to see around the cars ahead of him, but there were only more cars, stopped just like he was.
"That's right. Near Placerville."
"I'd check to see who owns any houses, cabins, even businesses in the area."
"A lot of the cabins are rentals."
"Then I'd get hold of the rental records."
He'd already been planning to do that. "How far back do you think I should go?" he asked. "One year, two years, more?"