F Wilson - Deep as the Marrow

Something had gone terribly wrong in the Falls Church house where they’d been keeping Katie… wrong enough that a man had been stabbed to death.

What if something else goes wrong tonight and Katie winds up getting hurt?

John had identified her clothing at the police station. e’d have been sick with worry that someone had sexually molested her if he hadn’t heard her voice an hour earlier. She’d sounded so normal, almost happy. He was glad of that, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand it. She’d been kidnapped, her toe amputated—she should have sounded lost, shocked, disassociated; yet she’d been perky, bouncy, her old self. As Katie herself ad said: “Fine.” Like she’d been out on an overnight with her favorite aunt instead of her captor.

God, who was that woman who’d called?

He’d sensed something in her voice… genuine regard for Katie. He prayed he was right.

And he prayed he’d done the right thing by not telling Decker about Katie’s call.

“I guess I’ll know soon enough, won’t I,” he said aloud as he stepped out into the wet air and went looking for the phones.

22

“There he goes,” Gerry Canney said.

Bob Decker had parked in the south lot. He squinted through the dripping windshield and watched Vanduyne trot through the rain toward the Maryland House. Plenty of light from the mercury bulbs overhead and the fluorescent backwash from the Exxon station behind them.

He yawned. A long, hard day, but he felt wired instead of tired. Excitement and apprehension burned inside him.

“Your people set up?” Canny started to answer, then held a hand up as his walkie-talkie earpiece buzzed. He pulled out his handset.

“Good work, Trevor,” he said. “Keep an eye on her.”

Bob stiffened. “We’ve spotted her?”

“It’s Vanduyne’s wife. She followed him from his place. When I heard that, I put an agent named Trevor Hendricks on her. Used to be a stunt driver. As they got within a few miles of here, he boxed her in behind some slow-moving cars until Vanduyne was out of sight. She’s still on Ninety-five, somewhere north of here, racing along, trying to catch up to him.”

Bob smiled. “Smooth. I love it.”

Earlier Vanduyne had told Canney about his wife and how she was asking all sorts of troublesome questions about Katie’s whereabouts. Vanduyne’s lawyer had faxed him selected sections of the court file on Mamie Vanduyne… one very messed-up lady. Bob had told Canney to put someone on her. Good thing too.

He glanced up at the glowing windows of the Maryland House. A busy place, with travelers of all ages, shapes, sizes, colors streaming in and out, tour buses disgorging hordes, even at his hour.

“Pretty amazing inside,” Canney said. “The phones are up on the second floor, along with a bank, a copy machine, fax services. More like a business office than a rest stop.”

“What’d you tell your people?” Canney shrugged. “As much as they need to know and no more. They’ve all got pictures of Katie and Vanduyne. They know it’s a kidnap situation and possibly— hopefully—a victim transfer.”

“Right. Hopefully.” Canney turned to him. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Bob’s turn to nod. “That this is some sort of trap? Yeah. Makes sense, especially after that corpse in Falls Church. Dicastro had to be involved. I mean, the kid’s prints are all over the bedroom, bathroom, and living room. She was there. What I don’t get is, we’ve been so sure this was a cartel operation, yet this Dicastro’s got no drug connection.”

“That we know of,” Canney said.

“Right. But he’s still not the sort I expected to run into. Maybe the cartel isn’t involved. But with the President checking into Bethesda today, whoever’s behind it must figure Vanduyne’s done their dirty work. That makes him and his kid expendable.”

“More than expendable,” Canney said. “They’re loose ends. Dicastro was probably a loose end, and look what they did to him.”

“Yeah,” Bob said, wishing Vanduyne didn’t know him. He’d love to be up there, loitering around the Maryland House himself. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

23

Poppy drove past Doc’s Pharmacy three times before she was satisfied that the streets were empty. She didn’t even know the name of the town, but, hell, it was only 11:30 and it looked like everyone was asleep.

She parked the panel truck in the shadows around the corner from the store and gathered the “tools” she’d picked up earlier from a hardware store: a flashlight, two bricks, and a baseball bat. She left the sack of spray paint cans on the floor. Twisting in the seat, she shrugged into Mac’s Orioles jacket and stuffed a brick in one pocket, the flashlight in the other. She pulled the leg she’d cut from a pair of pantyhose over her head, slipped into a pair of striped work gloves, then clutched the remaining brick in one hand and the bat in the other.

Ready.

But she couldn’t move. Her heart was racing so fast it made her whole body feel like it was vibrating. She wished she was smarter; then she might be able to figure out a better way to do this. But hey, like what could she do? You make do with what you got.

Can’t turn back now, she thought. Got to get in, get out, and back to Katie.

Poor Katie. Poppy had found her a Yoo-Hoo and crushed up a Valium in it.

The little thing was sound asleep back at the motel. She hated leaving her alone like that, but she was locked in and safe… if anywhere was safe with Mac hunting them.

Katie would wake up dopey in the morning, and Poppy would have to lie and say she’d slept through the time she was supposed to go back to her daddy, but that was okay because soon they’d arrange another time.

Right. Soon. Poppy just wouldn’t say like how soon.

At least she’d have Tegretol for her. She hoped.

Do it now, she told herself.

Leaving the car running, she jumped out and ran around to the front of Doc’s Pharmacy. Speed was everything.

She hurled the first brick at the lower half of the display window, putting everything she had behind the toss. The glass shattered, leaving a gaping hole and setting off a deafening alarm bell. She had to fight the urge to run. Instead she pulled out the second brick. The first hole was big enough to crouch through, but just her luck, the rest of that glass would fall on her as she was going through. Probably cut her head off. So she tossed the next brick higher, and that brought down most of the center of the pane. She used the bat to knock off a couple of daggerlike pieces, then leaped through the opening.

Flashlight glowing ahead of her, she jumped to the floor, ran to the back, vaulted the counter, and fond the bottle of Tegretol right where “Doc” had left it. Just to confuse things, she knocked everything she could reach off the drug shelves, then dashed back toward the window.

She hit the sidewalk running, jumped into the truck and glided away with her lights out.

She was breathing hard, sweating, shaking with fear and excitement as she kept watch ahead and behind, looking for flashing red lights.

None.

So far, so good. Just give me a couple of minutes more before— Red-and-blue flashing lights appeared way down the road ahead. She swung to the curb and ducked out of sight, trembling as she waited.

She began a mantra: He didn’t see me… he didn’t see me…

Seconds later a squad car roared by, no siren. As soon as it passed, she popped up and waited till it screeched around the corner to Doc’s. Then Poppy started moving again, lights still out, accelerating slowly so as not to attract any attention. Cruising.

Soon she was a mile, then two miles from the store. She put her headlights on.