Джеймс Паттерсон - Three Women Disappear

“I’m here for you,” I said to him. No questions. Just love.

“You found…?” he struggled to speak. “You found them?”

It took a moment for me to understand what he meant.

“Yes,” I replied.

“They tried…”

“To kill me? Yes.”

“Then we ha… Then we have some… talking… to do.” Every syllable a struggle.

“No.”

“Cases…”

“Not now, babe.”

“I can… explain.” He gathered himself. “Drake. I saw… I’ve been trying… to find a way to…”

“Aaron, not now.” I had to interrupt this. I couldn’t let him drain his precious resources. “Listen. If you love me…” Yes, I was pulling the if you love me card. “If you love me… then you’ll do what I’m about to tell you. No questions asked.”

He answered without hesitation. “Anything.”

My true ally.

“You want me to wear leather chaps?” said Aaron. “And a cowboy hat?”

“No,” I replied.

“I’ll do it. If that’s your thing.”

Oh, suddenly now he has perfect speech?

“My thing is brains,” I said. “You know that.”

“Brains and a leather hat.” He was trying to crack a smile.

Men.

Sierra hadn’t left my arms since I’d returned.

“Sierra, help me lift Daddy’s legs,” I said as I shot Aaron a single-upturned-eyebrow glare. “You know our very impressionable four-year-old daughter is listening.”

It was reassuring to know that even in the worst of circumstances, we were still the biggest flirts of all time.

“Save your strength,” I whispered.

“Don’t yell at a dying man,” he said, his smile just shy of a grimace.

“You are not dying.”

We all went still. I’d raised my voice for the first time perhaps in years. Before I could go on, he mustered all his strength and spoke clearly.

“I know this doesn’t make any sense. And these guys are… no joke. But I trust that you… can protect Sierra.”

I didn’t want him to keep going.

But he had more. “You’re smarter than them, Miranda. You’re the smartest person I know.”

I hate compliments like that, praise from blind faith. I hate them and love them.

He added, “You just tend to doubt yourself.”

“Yeah,” said Sierra.

“Now,” said Aaron, shifting gears. “What is this horrible thing you’re about to ask me to do? Eat broccoli?”

I took a deep breath and looked over at our daughter. She had her hair in a loose, half-finished side-braid. She learned it on the internet last month. This would not be easy for them. It wasn’t even easy for me to think.

“I need you to climb,” I said. “I need you to climb.”

CHAPTER 17

THEY WERE COMING, I explained to Aaron and Sierra. The bad men were preparing to converge on our little sanctuary. The cave was no longer safe.

I knew it was now or never.

“Okay. We can do this,” said Aaron.

“Me, too,” said Sierra.

Within minutes I’d gathered up my two ambassadors to begin the hobble. We each drank from the canteen. Getting Aaron to his feet was more about courage than muscle. He seemed about ten terrifying pounds lighter than when I last saw him. He barely stood upright, even with my support. Sierra could topple him just by tugging on his sleeve.

“We have only one shot at this,” I began my speech. “We have to get their car.”

He didn’t respond.

I continued. “Clay Hobson. We have to get the SUV he was in. I’m guessing they parked somewhere on the stretch of road above our wreck. If it’s still there, it’s our one chance.”

I glanced at his face. I had already composed the rebuttal to his upcoming rebuttal.

“Believe me, I looked,” I said. “I looked for a random car, for a cop, a hiker, pay phone, a wad of promising trash. Anything. Any hope. I tried the roads. I tried to get to 89, but Clay blocked the way.”

Aaron’s face was unmoved. I don’t know if it was stoicism or loss of blood, but his reaction was as calm as could be expected.

“You’ve gotta get to the SUV. If you follow the river upstream past where we crashed, there’s a steep grade leading up to where we went off the highway. It’s going to be a tough climb, but it’s our only chance.”

“If my wife wants me to climb…” he said with a smile, “then, ladies and gentlemen, I’m climbing.”

Sierra was walking alongside us. She would normally get carried by him across terrain like this. But Aaron wouldn’t have enough strength. So I crouched down to be eye level with my new lieutenant.

“Hey little koala, how are you and your cute paws?”

“Okay,” said Sierra.

“Thank you for being a good nurse. Now I’m going to promote you to Minister of Security and Transportation. Can you handle that job?”

“Okay.”

I looked up at Aaron and smiled at him.

His voice was undeniably grim. “You’re not coming with us, are you?” I could hear him trying to hide his concern.

I felt so sorry for them.

“I’ve mulled it over a thousand ways,” I replied. “This is the only one that has a chance.”

“Your Transport Minister doesn’t approve,” he joked. Half joking.

Sierra looked up at him and then over at me. She’s the world’s feistiest four-year-old, but you’d never guess it here. She seemed to sense the intensity of the situation even through our veiled updates.

I kissed her and stood up. As much as I hated to part ways, I turned around and started my journey.

“Wait,” said Aaron. “Why head to the SUV if we can’t even unlock the door?”

I knew my answer would lead to more questions and none of us had the time, nor the blood sugar for it, so I replied without turning back. “Because I’m gonna go get the keys.”

CHAPTER 18

THEY WENT ONE way. I went the other. If you drew it in the dirt, you’d have a diagram that looked like a badly written V. Actually, a curvy V. Like a bird, sort of.

I didn’t want to turn around to look. I was denying finality, and looking back meant capturing a mental image that I couldn’t afford to fixate on.

But several minutes later I couldn’t stop myself.

They were a half mile away from me, my poor, slow-moving duo.

I teared up. I knew I would.

They put their entire trust in me and were doing the impossible. Against medical wisdom, and self-preserving instinct, they limped along.

I watched them disappear. And then I started bawling. Hard.

Suck up the tears, babe . No jeopardizing the mission now. I had my agenda and my work cut out for me.

The plan was to get to the SUV driver’s body. Hopefully they hadn’t moved it, hopefully his keys were still in his pocket. Get the keys and run like I have never run to get back.

It was still lying where he died, at the bottom of the grade, surrounded by the rocks that had ended his life. I felt horrible all over again, but was relieved to see that animals hadn’t found him—yet.

I had a tremendous, unintentional shiver as I patted his pockets, doing everything I could not to look at him, not to breathe in.

“Looking for these?”

My heart stopped.

Clay Hobson stood there, keys held out, jingling slightly.

I had to think. Fast. I stood up, held my hands up to show I meant no harm. “I’m just trying to get my daughter and get out of here. I know my husband did things! I know that now! I wanted the keys to drive me and my daughter to the police station!”

They stayed still. I expected more smooth talking from Clay, but he was simply standing there, staring at me.

It was the other guy who spoke first. Which was odd. He was odd. Agitated.

He turned to Clay and said, “She’s lying.” Then he turned to me and said, “You’re lying!” He aimed his rifle right at me.