Tony thanked the man. Joanna was out the door and in the car before the door had closed behind Tony.
When they’d driven away from Griffin’s home, he asked, “What’s going on with you? You were agitated last night and you’re—I don’t know—more so today.”
“I need to get out of the car.”
“What?” He shot her a look.
“Now!” She reached for the door handle.
Tony hit the brakes and whipped off to the side of the road. Her door was open before the car had jerked to a complete stop.
She stumbled into the grassy ditch and fell to her hands and knees. Tony turned on the hazards and shoved the gearshift into Park. He got out and sat down next to her. She heaved and gagged. He dug around in his jacket pocket, found a cocktail napkin from the other night at that bar and offered it to her.
When she’d stopped heaving and sat back in the grass, he spoke, “Tell me what’s going on, Joanna.”
She wiped her mouth with the napkin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
As frustrated as her refusal to come completely clean about the past made him, he took a breath and tried to speak calmly. “You came to me because you want help. You want to make sure whoever took my niece—whoever took you and Ellen—is stopped. I can’t help make that happen if you aren’t completely honest with me.” He glanced around, considered how many days he’d been in Milledgeville already and the fact that he had basically nothing so far. “To tell you the truth, I’m beginning to think you don’t want to find the people responsible for what happened then or now.”
“I think Griffin is right. Where we...woke up in the woods wasn’t more than a mile or so from the hospital, I always thought deep in my gut that we were held there somewhere. At the time the hospital was still operational so I couldn’t be sure. My brother told me the cops had searched the whole place. He talked about how creepy it was so maybe I’m way off base.” She drew in a big, steadying breath. “All I know is that when Angie started to talk about it I couldn’t listen. It was like hot coals raking over my skin. That’s why I was so mean to her.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said those things to her. Anyway—” she inhaled a big breath “—when we were at Griffin’s house and he kept going on and on, my head started spinning and I felt like I needed to puke.”
“What they talked about nudged a memory you’ve repressed.” Tony saw it on a regular basis when interrogating witnesses. “That’s why you’re reacting this way.”
She glared at him. “So you’re a shrink now?”
Tony shook his head. “No but I’ve walked enough victims through the horrors they suffered to know what PTSD looks like and the things that can make it flare up.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She shoved the napkin into her pocket and stood. “What else is new?”
Tony followed her to the car, stood at her door as she slid into the passenger seat. “If you want to help me find Tiffany and Vickie and whoever else this bastard took, stop fighting me. Don’t hold back. Let the memories come. We need all the help we can get.”
“Easy for you to say,” she grumbled.
31
Day Five
Eighteen years ago...
Ellen is alive.
I am so grateful. I can’t even articulate the words I want to say to her. I hug her gently because she is hurt really bad. Then I feed her. She can’t eat much but I make sure she eats at least a little.
No-Name stays out of the way.
I don’t know how long Ellen was gone but I had time to think. If we don’t try to escape, we are going to die here. No question.
There has to be a way out. It can only be overhead.
If only I could reach it.
After she eats Ellen goes to sleep. I decide it’s time to take a chance. I crawl over to No-Name. She scoots away but I grab her hair and hold her still.
I put my face next to her ear and whisper, “We need to find a way out.”
“No shit,” she snarls.
I whisper again, “No seams or irregularities in the walls or floor except for the hole we use for a toilet. The way they’re getting us in and out has to be overhead.”
She shrugs.
“We need to find it.”
I stand up.
As if she suddenly understands what I need, she stands up, too. I feel for her shoulders, then climb onto her back. She holds my legs so I can let go of her neck. I reach up and start to smooth my hands over the ceiling.
It takes forever. We have to take frequent breaks because No-Name is like the rest of us—she is weak and injured.
Finally, my hand hits air.
I touch her face—a sign for her to stop. My heart is pounding. There is an opening. I don’t know how deep it is or where it goes or anything but it’s a void above our heads. I get down and pull her close.
“If I pat you on the head, go forward. On the left cheek, left. Right cheek, right.”
No-Name nods.
When I’m on her back once more, I press my hand against the ceiling until I find the void. I pat her on the head and she walks forward. Three or four feet. I tap her left cheek. We go three or four feet that way. Then left again.
I slip back down to the floor and draw her close. “The opening is like three to four feet square. I can’t reach the top. I may have to try and climb up your back.”
She nods.
So we try again. I can feel another edge maybe ten inches above our ceiling. All I have to do is get there.
I stretch upward. I can feel a floor or flat surface of some sort. I flatten both palms on the surface and push hard as my feet work their way up her back. To her credit, No-Name grabs my right foot in her hands. For a second I’m dangling from my hands. Then she grabs my left foot and pushes up on both.
I scramble up onto the floor or whatever it is.
My heart is pounding. Air is sawing in and out of my lungs. It’s dark up here, too.
When my breathing slows and my heart calms, I begin to crawl, keeping my hands well ahead of my knees. I don’t want to accidentally fall into the void.
I hit a wall.
I stand and feel my way down the wall, hugging close to it.
My fingers hit a different surface.
A door!
I feel over the surface, find it and wrap my fingers around the knob. A wild mixture of fear and relief sears through my veins. I turn the knob.
The door bursts inward, knocking me on my ass.
Before I can scramble away, a figure I can’t see drapes something over me, like a heavy blanket.
I’m suddenly swaddled by the blanket and strong arms. I scream for the good it will do.
He or she or they are dragging me. I try to fight my way out of the trap. Can’t get free.
Abruptly we stop. The floor starts to move.
I jerk with the feel of it.
Then it turns upright and I tumble off. Land on a hard surface. The air whooshes out of my lungs.
My sore body screams in protest.
I kick the blanket off me. Feel more hands on my skin.
“Get away!” I scream.
“It’s me.”
No-Name.
I’m back where I started.
32
Doe Run Road
10:00 a.m.
Madelyn roused. She sighed.
Last night had been amazing—considering she’d had another run-in with LeDoux and that bitch Guthrie.
Madelyn dismissed the nuisance as she opened her eyes and stared at the beauty on the pillow next to her.
So young—her skin was perfect. So smooth. No signs of aging like Hailey suffered. God, when had she gotten so old? Young or old, the truth was she’d always preferred women to men.
But age was inevitable. Her true love told her that often. Madelyn smiled at the thought of her dear, dear love. How had she been so lucky to find her all those years ago? They had been secret lovers for almost twenty years now and finally it was their turn. Finally they would have all they’d dreamed of far away from this place where no one could touch them. Where alternative lifestyles were embraced.
And the money—so much money.