F Wilson - Deep as the Marrow

That was when she’d stopped thinking. Some blind, crazy instinct took over and she’d found herself racing from the car and leaping onto Mac’s back, making animal sounds as she clawed and pummeled him with everything she had.

She still wasn’t sure what had happened back there, but the important thing was she had Katie.

About a mile down the road she got a bad case of the shakes but didn’t dare stop. Finally they passed, and suddenly she was exhausted. She wanted to cry. How much more of this could she take? How much longer could she keep this up?

But she couldn’t cry right now. Not in front of Katie. Poor thing needed to feel safe, and how could a blubbering wimp make you feel safe?

Fine, she thought. But how do I feel safe?

Especially after Mac had found her here. He shouldn’t have even known she was in A.C. She’d told only one person.

Katie’s father.

The jerk. Who else had he told beside Katie’s psycho mother? What a family! Good thing Katie was going to stay with her from now on. Poppy had a good mind to— She glanced down and saw the rented cell phone on the seat.

Yeah… why not? She had the number of that pay phone. If Daddy was still waiting, she’d give him a well-deserved piece of her mind.

14

Bob Decker paced the cramped confines of the coordinating trailer. 3:42 and the woman hadn’t called.

Bob was going stir crazy in here, but poor Vanduyne he had to be going through hell up there on the board walk.

The door at the far end opened and Gerry Canney stepped in amid a blaze of afternoon sunlight. He wore bicycle pants and a tank top. With his blond hair and muscular arms, he looked like a surfer. Almost. He needed a tan.

“Don’t you look comfortable.”

Canney smiled. “I’m undercover, don’t you know.” He waved a sheet of paper. “More info on our friend Poppy. She’s a Joisey goil. A native.”

“That makes two of us.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Grew up just this side of the George Washing ton Bridge in a place called Hackensack.”

Canney shook his head; “Hackensack… Sooy’s Boot. Weird names you’ve got here. But how come you don’t sound like you’re from Joisey?” Canney’s bad accent was beginning to get on Bob’s nerves.

“Because hardly any of us say ‘Joisey’ unless they were transplanted from Brooklyn.”

“If you say so. Our friend Poppy sounds like she was transplanted from the South. Instead, she was born in Sooy’s Boot, En-Jay.”

“Sooy’s what?”

“Boot. Sooy’s Boot.

“Never heard of it.”

“Neither did any of the maps I checked out. Found a Sooy Place, but that’s not the same. Finally had to call Trenton. Even they had a tough time, but they finally located it northwest of here. Closest town to it on any map is a place called Chatsworth.”

“You got me there too.”

“Somewhere north of Wharton State Forest. Looks like it’s in the woods—deep in the woods.”

Bob suddenly had a flash. “In the pines. I’ll be damned—she’s a Piney.”

“What’s that?”

“Means she grew up in the Pine Barrens, a huge forest that takes up most of the center of the state.”

“A Piney, huh?”

“Yeah. Not always a compliment. Sometimes it’s used as the New Jersey equivalent of redneck or hillbilly, which probably isn’t too far off, from stories I’ve heard. Pineys have been connected with inbreeding, bootleg liquor stills, and—”.

“Hey!” said Harris from his seat in the corner by the monitoring equipment. “The phone just rang.” He pulled off his headphones. “She’s on!”

“Put her on the speaker,” Canney said. “And start that trace.”

“Thank God,” Bob muttered.

But his growing sense of relief was stalled by the angry tone that suddenly filled the trailer.

15

“You’re a real jerk, you know that?” The woman’s words—John recognized her voice—hit him like a blow to the head. He struggled for something to say.

“Is… is something wrong?” That sounded so lame— of course something was wrong. “Is Katie—?”

“Yeah, Katie’s fine—except for a slapped face. No thanks to you. Daddy.” She spat the last word.

“A slapped face?” His stomach turned. “Oh, no. You didn’t—”

“Me? You stupid Appleton! I wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head! But your wife—now that’s totally another story!”

“My wife? Mamie? Oh, God!” How’d she get involved in this? Had she got hold of Katie somehow? The very thought made him ill. “She… she’s not my wife. We’re divorced.”

“But not so divorced that you don’t tell her about our A.C. plans?”

“I didn’t tell her. She—”

“Yeah, well, I thought it’d be safe to let Katie go with her mother, but then I see her clobbering the poor kid. So I let her have it. But Mommy was the least of Katie’s problems today. Mac showed up.”

“Mac?”

“The guy who snatched her in the first place. He tried to get her again.”

“No!”

“Yes! You been talking when you weren’t supposed to be. Daddy. And you been talking to all the wrong people. It’s like you put up a billboard saying: ‘I’m getting Katie back this afternoon in A.C.’ Well, let me tell you something. Daddy. You ain’t. I’m keeping her. She’s better off with me than with you and that bitch who’s supposed to be her mother. I sure as hell know she’s safer.” John felt as if the boardwalk was crumbling beneath him.

“No, please! You don’t understand! I—”

“Cut the broken-heart act. Daddy. You blew it. And you got no one to blame but yourself.”

“Poppy, please! You’ve got it all wrong! Let me speak to Katie. Just once. I…” Something had changed on the line. “Hello? Hello?” The line was dead. She’d hung up.

John leaned against the phone stand, feeling as if he were about to explode with grief. But another emotion was mixing in…

“You been talking when you weren’t supposed to be, Daddy. And you been talking to all the wrong people…” But that wasn’t true. He hadn’t told a soul.

But that didn’t mean someone hadn’t been listening.

“You blew it. And you got no one to blame but yourself.”

No… not true. Someone else was to blame. And he had a pretty good idea who.

And now the new emotion—anger—began edging out the grief.

He still had a sweaty grip on the handset. He lifted it and spoke through teeth clenched so hard that his jaw ached.

“Did you get all that. Decker? Is it all on tape? Then get this: I’m going back to my room. I’m sure you know where it is. I want to see you there. If you don’t show up, I’ll come looking for you in D.C. Face me now or face me later, but one way or another, you’re going to explain this.” He slammed the handset back into the cradle.

16

Bob Decker winced at the harsh click echoing through the trailer.

Harris cut the speaker feed as Canney turned to him. “Ouch.”

“Shit,” Bob said. “What else can go wrong? We lost Vanduyne’s ex—who somehow found Poppy Mulliner when we couldn’t. We can’t find this guy Mac or Snake or whoever he is, but apparently he managed to find Poppy too. We’ve got all these men running around and we haven’t had so much as a glimpse of her. Dammit!”

A few minutes ago he’d been fantasizing a triumphant call to the presidential suite at Bethesda, informing Razor that his godchild was safe and he could head for The Hague free of guilt.

Now…

“How are you going to handle Vanduyne? Stonewall him?”

Bob shook his head. “No. He has a right to know. I’ll go see him.”

“You want me along?”

Bob smiled. “For protection?”

“Don’t knock it.” He pointed to the speaker. “That sounded like one angry man.”