David Baldacci - First Family

Sean glanced toward the doorway where Jane Cox passed by, followed by several of her assistants. "She is special."

"So you two got anything going on this case?"

Michelle spoke up first. "If we did we'd already have let Waters know."

"Important thing is to get Willa back, screw the credit," Sean added.

"Nice philosophy," commented Betack, swallowing the rest of his drink. "And rare in this town."

"But that includes everybody stepping up to the plate and telling everything they know," Michelle said pointedly, her gaze dead on Betack.

The man noticed this and shot a glance at Sean and then back at her. "You implying something?"

Sean lowered his voice. "Tuck Dutton saw you meeting with his wife when he was supposed to be out of town."

"He's wrong."

"He described you pretty accurately. And he fingered you at the funeral as the guy."

"I look like a lot of guys. And why would I be meeting with Pam Dutton?"

"I was hoping you could tell us that."

"I can't, because it never happened."

Sean stared at him for a long moment and then said, "Okay, Tuck was wrong."

"That's right. He was wrong. Excuse me." He stalked off.

Michelle turned to Sean. "How long you figure before he contacts whoever he was working with?"

"Not that long."

"So we just wait?"

Sean gazed around the room and then stopped as Tuck walked by. "I'm actually tired of waiting."

WILLA FINISHED the last of her books, replaced it on the stack, sat back on her cot, and stared at the door. When she was reading, she forgot where she was. When she had turned the last page, she realized once more exactly what she was.

A prisoner.

She was never going to see her family again. She could just tell.

She stiffened as the footsteps approached. It was the big man. The old man. She recognized his tread. The door opened a few seconds later and there he was. He shut the door behind him and walked toward her.

"You doing okay, Willa?" He sat down at the table and rested his hands in his lap.

"I finished all the books."

He opened the knapsack he carried and pulled out another stack of books and set them on the table. "There you go."

She eyed the books. "So I'm going to be here for a long time then?"

"No. Not that much longer."

"So I'll be back with my family then?"

He looked away. "Did you like the lady you met here?"

Willa kept her gaze right on him. "She's scared. I'm scared too."

"I guess we're all scared in a way."

"Why should you be afraid? I can't hurt you."

"Hope you enjoy the books."

"Is there one where the kid dies at the end? That way I can like prepare myself!"

He stood. "You're not sounding like yourself, Willa."

She stood too. Although she was over two feet shorter than the man, she seemed his equal. "You don't know me. You might have found out things about me, but you don't know me. Or my family. Did you hurt them? Did you?" she demanded.

Quarry's gaze flitted around the room, looking everywhere except at her.

"I'll let you get some sleep. Seems like you need it."

"Just leave me alone," she said in a loud, firm voice. "I don't want to see you anymore."

Quarry had his hand on the door. "Do you want to see the lady again?"

"Why?"

"It'll give you somebody to talk to, Willa. Other than me. I understand why you don't like me. If I were you, I wouldn't either. I don't like having to do what I'm doing. If you knew the whole truth, maybe you'd understand better. Maybe you wouldn't."

"I'll see her," Willa said grudgingly, turning her back on him.

"Good enough," said Quarry quietly.

Her next words froze him.

"Does this have to do with your daughter? The one who can't read anymore?"

He turned slowly back around, his gaze now burning into her. "Why do you say that?" His voice was hard, fierce.

She stared back at him. "Because I'm somebody's daughter too."

Yes you are, thought Quarry. You just don't know whose. He closed and locked the door behind him.

Minutes passed and then the door opened again. The lady was standing there, Quarry behind her.

"I'll be back in an hour," he said.

He shut the door and Diane Wohl moved cautiously forward and sat down at the table. Willa joined her and turned the lantern light up higher.

"How are you doing?" Willa said gently.

"I'm so scared it's hard for me to breathe sometimes."

"Me too."

"You don't act scared. I'm the adult but you're obviously a lot braver than I am."

"Did he talk to you at all? The man?"

"Not really. Just told me to come with him. To see you."

"Did you want to?"

"Of course, honey. I mean… I mean it gets so lonely in that room."

She eyed the books. Willa followed her gaze. "You want some books to read?"

"I've never been much of a reader, I'm afraid."

Willa picked up several and slid them across to her. "Now would be a good time to start."

Diane fingered the cover of one. "He's a very strange kidnapper."

"Yes he is," Willa agreed. "But we still need to be afraid of him."

"Trust me, that won't be a problem."

"We almost got away," said Willa defiantly. "We were like so close."

"Because of you. I was probably the reason we didn't get away. I'm not very heroic."

"I just wanted to get back to my family."

Diane reached out a hand and gripped the girl's arm. "Willa, you are very brave, and you just have to keep being brave."

A sob jumped from her throat. "I'm only twelve. I'm just a kid."

"I know, sweetie, I know."

Diane slid her chair around the table and put her arms protectively around Willa.

The girl started shaking and Diane held her tight against her chest. She whispered to her, that things really would be okay. That her family was no doubt fine and that she was definitely going to see them again. Diane knew Willa would never see her mother again, because the man had told her she was dead. But still she had to say it to the stricken little girl.

My little girl. Outside the door Quarry leaned against the wall of the mine and rubbed an old coin between his fingers. It was a Lady Liberty he was planning on giving to Gabriel. Not for eBay. For college. But Quarry wasn't really focused on the coin. He was listening to Willa cry her heart out. The wails from the little girl swooped up and down the shafts of the mine, as had decades ago the moans of battered miners, and generations before them the shrieks of Union soldiers dying of diseases that riddled their bodies.

Yet he couldn't imagine any more painful, heartwrenching sound than what he was hearing now. He slipped the coin back in his pocket.

He'd gotten his affairs in order. People he cared about were provided for. After that, it was out of his hands.

People would condemn him, of course, but so be it. He had endured far worse than the negative opinions of others.

Still, he would be glad when this was over.

It had to be over soon.

None of them could take much more of it.

Sam Quarry knew that he couldn't.

Late that night he took the truck to see Tippi. This time he went alone. He read to her. He played the tape of mother talking to her daughter.

He looked around the ten-by-twelve-foot confines of Tippi's world for all these years. He'd memorized every piece of equipment needed to keep her alive here, and had pelted the staff here with questions about each one of them. They had no idea why he was being so inquisitive, but that didn't matter. He knew why.

When he finally gazed down at his daughter's withered face, her atrophied limbs, her skeleton of a torso, he felt his own big frame start to droop as though gravity had decided to exert more force on him. Perhaps as punishment.