“What were you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” He punched one fist into the palm of his other hand. “I found something. I looked in the phone book. Do you know Colter’s number was in there the whole time? All this time he held Caitlin, his phone number was right there in the book. There he was, getting calls from telemarketers, people asking him to give money to charity, to switch his long-distance service, and he was keeping Caitlin locked away in some room in the basement.” He dug into his pants pocket and brought out a small, wrinkled piece of paper. “His mom bailed him out of jail, you know? She put up her house. Did you see that?”
“Yes.”
“Her number’s in the book, too.” He waved the paper in the air. “I called it. The old bitch answered, and I asked for John. She said, ‘Why can’t you reporters leave him alone? He doesn’t know nothing about that girl.’ I told the old bitch to fuck off. But you know what? That means we know where he’s staying. He’s staying there, at this address.” He waved the paper again.
“What are you suggesting?”
He shrugged. What do you think?
I pointed at the girl. “What were you going to do with her?”
“I saw her outside the house when I came up,” Buster said. “So I tried to grab her, to find out what she wanted. For you. But she ran this way, so I went after her. I caught up with her over here and asked her what she was doing outside my brother’s house. I probably scared the hell out of her. I didn’t mean to. But she told me something, Tom. Something really fucking freaky.”
“What?”
Buster looked at the girl. “Tell him.”
“I already did,” she said.
“Tell him everything you told me.”
“Tell me what?” I asked.
The girl’s eyes ticked between the two of us.
“Tell him,” Buster said again.
The girl nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.” She started to bite her nail again but stopped. She curled her hand into a fist and let it fall to her side. “He sent me to your house to get the girl back. He wanted me to tell her that he shouldn’t have let her go. He thinks it was a mistake. He didn’t mean it.”
“Let her go?” I said.
The girl nodded. “He said he got scared, so he let her go. The story was in the paper, that drawing. He let her go during the night.” She crinkled her nose. “She was too old, he said. And he had me . . .”
Buster made a disgusted gasping sound.
“Where are your parents?” I asked.
“He loves her. He says he misses her and he wants her back. He sent me to your house to get her back, but I didn’t know what to do. I stood in the yard and tried to figure out which room was hers. I couldn’t see. And then you ran after me that one night. And he ran after me tonight.” She pointed at Buster.
“Did he leave a note here telling her to stay away?”
The girl shrugged. “He changed his mind, I guess.”
I took a step forward and bent down, trying to get closer to the girl’s eye level. Buster came up beside me. “Who are you, honey?” I asked. “Who are your parents?”
“I go back to them sometimes. They don’t care.” She ran the back of her hand across her nostrils. “He said he doesn’t need me anymore when he gets your girl back.”
“It’s not right for you to stay with him like that,” I said.
“We should call the cops—” Buster cut in.
“No,” she said and took two big steps back. Her voice was full of fear, like a child waking from a nightmare. “No. You can’t call the police.”
“We have to,” Buster said.
“He’ll run away,” she said. “He wants to run away. He doesn’t want to stay here. The police will take him. They’ll lock him up.”
“That’s what should happen,” Buster said. He reached in his jacket pocket and brought out a cell phone.
“No,” she said again.
“Hold it,” I said to both of them. “Just hold it.”
Buster held the phone in his hand, but stopped. He didn’t flip it open or dial. The girl stood still, staring at me, her eyes still wide.
“What does he want?” I asked. “Colter. What does he want from Caitlin?”
“Tom—”
“Quiet. Listen.”
Again her eyes moved between the two us. She looked like she could run at any moment. She finally settled her gaze on me. “He just wants to see her again,” she said.
“You said he’s leaving.”
She nodded. “He wants to. He wants to go away.”
“So he wants to take Caitlin with him?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Buster’s hand landed on my arm. “Tom, you need to stop this.”
I shook free. “Does he want to take her?”
The girl fixed her eyes on Buster. I looked. He held his phone and used his thumb to dial a number. “I’m calling the cops,” he said. “This is bullshit.”
“Goddamn it!”