“This is a very special car, Dr. Carmichael.”
It was huge, like an old pimp car from a few decades ago. “It doesn’t look that special to me. It looks like a piece of crap.”
He laughed. “Yes, it is that. It belongs to someone you knew, and the funny thing about this car is that it’s an older model. I can start it and then lock it so no one can get in while the motor is running.”
“So?”
And then it hit me.
“No!” I tried pulling away from him.
“So you figured it out?”
He pushed me into the garage, against the car, and then jiggled the keys in my face. “You won’t be able to open the door and turn off the ignition without these. And guess what? I’m taking them with me.”
My heartbeat raced as cold fear pulsed through my veins. “Let me go! Let me go!”
“I’m afraid not, Doctor. You’re going to die. In this garage, at the mercy of this car. Just like Gina Cates did.”
Chapter Thirty–Seven
Jonah
Still no answer from Melanie.
The next morning, I was starting to get concerned and was getting ready to drive to Grand Junction, when I got a frantic phone call from Bryce.
“I want to go back to Grand Junction, Joe,” he said. “I want to talk to Larry Wade again.”
“Your timing couldn’t be better,” I said. “I was just getting ready to drive into the city now. I suppose I could stop and see Larry first. We’ll have to take separate cars, though, because I have some things to do afterward.”
The two of us made quick time into the city. Before I knew it, we were sitting at the table, the same table we had sat at weeks before, waiting for the guard to bring Larry out.
I looked around the sterile room. And then I snapped my neck to the left. A silver-haired man was leaving the visitation room. From behind, he looked just like— Tom Simpson.
I couldn’t say anything to Bryce. What if I was wrong?
But no, just as with every interaction I’d had with Tom Simpson, I felt knowledge deep within my soul. That was him, and he’d been here to see Larry. I looked around the large room. Sure enough, Larry sat at another table. He stood, and the guard brought him over to us. Too many thoughts were jumbled in my head right now—all that Wendy had told us, what we knew for sure, and then those gut feelings of mine—those gut feelings about Tom Simpson that wouldn’t go away.
I turned to Bryce. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He nodded. “The close call with Henry made me even more sure. Now that I know what happened to Luke, I’m determined to figure this whole thing out. Find out why this happened and who was responsible. Some way, I’ll convince Larry Wade to tell us.”
I hadn’t given Bryce any of the information that Talon and I had gotten from Wendy Madigan. It just didn’t sit right with me, and until I had more evidence, I wasn’t going to say anything. I also hadn’t had the heart to tell Bryce that I thought the third abductor might be his father. How could I tell him something like that? It was hard enough knowing that one of them was my own uncle. But I hadn’t known he was my half-uncle. I hadn’t even known he existed, thanks to the cover up of the relationship between him and my mother. Bryce had grown up with Tom. Tom was his father, and as far as I could tell, he’d been a good one.
I still didn’t know where Tom’s birthmark was. What if it was on his arm, like Talon remembered? What were the chances of two men in the same area having an identical birthmark in the same place?
Probably about as good as being struck by lightning.
When Larry sat down at our table, he looked like he had lost weight since the last time I’d seen him. He also had a big bruise around one eye.
“What the hell do you two want?” he said.
“Get into a fight?” I asked.
“What the fuck do you care?”
“I don’t. Serves you right, and it’s still not even a down payment on what you did to my brother and those other kids. I imagine child molesters aren’t looked too favorably upon by other prisoners.”
Larry said nothing.
“Today, Uncle Larry,” I said, “you’re going to tell us the names of those other two abductors.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m afraid I’m not.”
“What the hell do you care? The DA is offering a good deal. And you’re already getting your ass kicked in prison. Look at you.”
Still he shook his head. “I can’t. And I won’t.”
“What if we’re willing to sweeten the pot a little?” Bryce asked.
“With what? If I walked away from the Steels’ money, what makes you think you have anything to offer me?”
“My father’s the mayor of Snow Creek. He can talk to the governor. Maybe get you a pardon.”
I jerked toward Bryce. “What the fuck?” I said through clenched teeth.
“What’s the problem?” Bryce said. “You want to find out who did this, don’t you?”
“Not at the expense of letting this asshole free. Hell, no.”