John Miller - Side by Side

Click bolted for the door. Winter body-blocked him easily and flipped him onto his back. Then Winter stepped out and closed the door, silencing Click’s anguished screams. When Click pressed his face against the note-card-sized square of two-inch-thick Plexi, his eyes wild with terror, Winter slid it closed.

“How long are you going to leave him in there?” Alexa asked Winter.

“Good question.”

“So, what is this place?”

“A building Sean bought to turn it into a safe house for battered women. They start work on it in a few weeks. I had the keys because we’ve been meeting with architects and space planners.”

“Your own private Abu Ghraib. Great start, Massey. You just have one prisoner and you’re torturing him.”

On the way back up the hall, Winter told her about Click’s scars, the conditioning to physical pain the boy had been put through for years, probably starting when he was very young.

“God, child abuse for the good of the family,” Alexa said sadly.

“For the survival of the Smoots,” Winter said.

“He’ll bug out,” Alexa warned.

“His fear of the dark is a full-blown phobia, but he won’t die from it. If I leave him in there a couple of hours, it will seem like a lot longer to him. When we come back and give him a chance to come clean, he’ll do it.”

“This is so wrong,” Alexa said. “I can’t believe you. . that we can be so cruel.”

“Without him, you’ll never find the Dockerys in time, Bryce goes free, and not one of the Smoots will ever be punished for Lucy’s murder. What I got from reading Sarnov’s lips through a window won’t hold up in court. But knowing what we know might give us leverage with the next Smoot.”

Alexa grabbed Winter’s arm when they entered the lobby. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Damn it, Lex!” Winter yelled. “Stop thinking about this little vermin, and think about Lucy and Elijah. Click is a career criminal who is conspiring to murder two people just to throw a trial to free another murderer so Bryce can go on being a death merchant. We let him out now and it’s all over.”

“Turn on the light,” she argued. “Keep him in there, but if he goes insane from the fear, he’s no good to us either.”

Winter thought it over for five seconds. “No way.”

“What do we do in the meanwhile?”

“See what we can learn from somebody else.”

“Peanut?”

“Don’t know where he is. We could go look at each Smoot house, maybe find another Smoot or two. We can’t torture them because they’ll never talk. We might follow Peanut if Clayton tells us where Peanut is-or was, since this phone-trap thing isn’t instant-and we could tag along behind him. If he goes to where they have the Dockerys. Too many ifs.”

“Why couldn’t we trade Click to Peanut for the Dockerys?” Alexa said.

“Peanut would never go for it. Click’s life isn’t worth a day in prison to him.”

“He might if we promise we won’t prosecute.”

“You think he’d believe that? We both know that men like Peanut Smoot aren’t the sorts you can deal with unless you have something they really, really want and can’t take away from you. And I don’t think Laughlin, Sarnov, and Colonel Bryce would let him do it and live. Peanut’s freedom is more important to him than the lives of any member of his family.”

“So how do we find Peanut?”

“We don’t. You go back to the hotel and get some rest. If I don’t call you by daylight, you call the cops anonymously and tell them where Click is. He doesn’t know your name. If I get the location, I’ll call you. I never show up, it’s not your fault.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The best I can,” he answered. “I know you want to help, but you’re in my way. If you really want the Dockerys, back off.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m going to go see someone who should know where they are, who might be willing to tell to save his skin.”

“Who?”

“A lawyer.”

“You’re not serious?” Alexa said. “You’re just going to tip our hand early. Laughlin isn’t some kid, Winter.”

“Lex, don’t worry. If he doesn’t tell me where the Dockerys are, I’ve got more padded cells.”

Lucy Dockery would have one chance at survival. She had formulated a plan based on what she was sure she could lay her hands on in order to effect an escape. She had done her best to weigh what she was capable of doing against what wasn’t as likely to work. For example, she had seen a bottle of antifreeze in the bathroom, probably used for winterizing the trailer’s toilet. She imagined that if she could get some of it in Dixie’s coffee, the woman might drink it and it would probably kill her the same way it did dogs that drank it. But as far as Lucy knew, the poison could also take a long time to work, and she wasn’t going to get a chance to pour it in the coffeepot, and maybe Dixie wouldn’t even drink any coffee. She was resigned to the fact that her plan was dangerous and it was likely that, if it worked, Dixie probably wouldn’t survive. Well, Dixie planned to kill her and Elijah, and if she had to kill in self-defense, she was pretty sure she could do it.

In theory.

Every time she imagined striking a fatal blow to Dixie, every fiber of her being resisted the alien thought. Lucy was horrified and revolted at the very idea of taking a life.

Yes. To save Elijah, I will. If I absolutely have to, Walter, I will. I promise.

She heard Dixie making noise in the kitchen, mumbling to herself, running water into the sink, opening and closing the refrigerator. Lucy lay still, curled herself into a fetal position. When the door opened, Dixie entered carrying a glass and a plastic bowl. She had a T-shirt draped over one shoulder and a towel over the other. She sat down on the bed.

“Missy?” she said in a low voice. “Baby, you awake?”

Lucy drew herself into a tighter ball.

“You poor little thing. Dixie’s going to clean you up,” the big woman said. “I’m sorry for what Buck did. He got punished for it. He sometimes has trouble controlling his temper. I know you didn’t mean to upset him like you did.”

Dixie reached out and dabbed at Lucy’s blood-matted hair with a wet end of the towel.

Lucy moaned, playing barely conscious as Dixie worked halfheartedly to clean her up. “You are one lucky gal,” Dixie chirped. “This isn’t near as bad as he can do. Not by a long shot it ain’t. It’s sort of his way of fore-playing. Buck’s used to doing like he wants, and that won’t never change. But he won’t bother you again. Not so long as you don’t give me call to turn my back and let him. Think of me as your angel standing between you and. . Honey, you need to sit up and let Dixie put this shirt on you so you won’t be naked.”

Lucy allowed herself to be lifted so that Dixie could wrestle the T-shirt onto her. It was huge and reeked of stale sweat. Lucy assumed it belonged to one of the men. She remained as limp, as listless, as she could manage, returning silently to her fetal position as soon as Dixie finished dressing her.

“You know it wouldn’t do you any good to try to get out of here. We know everybody around for miles and my daddy about supports half the people out here. You could say we’re very instrumental in this community. A lot of the people around here are our kin.

“Honey, you need to sit up and drink this medicine Dixie got for you,” Dixie said, her voice sticky with false concern. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Lucy had known this was coming, but she was filled with sudden terror, knowing the concoction would probably put her out, or at the least turn her into a staggering mess. If she was going to have a chance, she couldn’t allow it. Dixie turned her over, raised her up, and put the coffee mug to her lips, pressing the rim against Lucy’s teeth. The main odor was that of orange juice with an undercurrent of cough syrup.