Нора Робертс - Hideaway

Reading Hugh’s signal as Charlotte clutched at him, Lily moved in. “Here now, here now, let me take you upstairs. Miranda,” she said to her youngest daughter, “why don’t you help keep the children occupied, maybe take them down to the theater, put on a movie, and have someone bring Charlotte up some tea? Everything’s going to be fine,” she soothed as she pulled Charlotte away.

“I want my baby.”

“Of course you do.”

“Put on some coffee,” Rosemary said. She sat, face pale, hands linked tight, but back straight. “We need our wits about us.”

“I’ll make some calls, start arranging for the money. No,” Hugh said when Aidan started out. “Leave her to Lily for now. It’s best to leave her to Lily. There’s more to consider than getting the money, and how in God’s name they took Cate from under our noses. They’re amateurs, and that scares me to death.”

“Why do you say that?” Aidan demanded.

“Ten million, Aidan, in cash. I can find a way to get it, and I will, but the logistics after? How do they expect to transport such a large amount? The practicalities. It’s not smart, son, it’s not. Having the money wired, having a way, an account, that’s smart. This isn’t.”

As everyone in the room started talking at once, voices raised in anger and anxiety, Rosemary got slowly to her feet. “Enough!” And with her power as the matriarch, the room fell into silence. “Have any of you ever seen ten million dollars, all in cash? Hugh’s right on this. Just as he’s right we should be calling the police. But—” She held up a finger before the din started up again. “It’s Aidan and Charlotte who have the say on that. We all love Caitlyn, but she’s their daughter. So we’ll get the money. Hugh and I. It’s for us,” she said to Hugh. “My house still, and soon to be yours. So we’ll go into your father’s office, and do what we need to do to get it, and quickly.

“Get some tea up to her,” Rosemary continued. “And I’ve no doubt someone around here has a sleeping pill or two. Given her personality, and her state of mind, it might be best to convince her to take a pill and sleep for now.”

“I’ll take the tea up,” Aidan told her. “And Charlotte has her own pills. I’ll see she takes one. Before I do, I’ll try again to convince her to call the police. Because I agree with you. Yet, if something happened…”

“One step at a time.” She went to him, gripped his hands. “We’ll get the money, your dad and I. And we’ll do, all of us, whatever you and Charlotte decide.”

“Nan.” He brought her hands up, pressed them to his cheeks. “My world. Cate’s the center of it.”

“I know it. You’ll stay strong for her. Let’s get these bastards the money they want, Hugh.”

Cate woke slowly. Because her head hurt she squeezed her eyes tight, hunched into herself as if to push off the pain. Her throat felt sore, and something inside her tummy rolled like it wanted her to puke it out.

She didn’t want to throw up, didn’t want to.

She wanted Nina, or her daddy, or her mom. Somebody to make it stop.

She opened her eyes to the dark. Something was really wrong. She was really sick, but she didn’t remember getting really sick.

The bed didn’t feel right—too hard, with scratchy sheets. She had a lot of beds in a lot of rooms. Her own at home, her bed at Grandpa and G-Lil’s, at Grandda and Nan’s, at—

No, her grandda had died, she remembered now. And they’d had a celebration because of his life. Playing, playing with all the kids. Tag, and tricks, and hide-and-seek. And …

The man, the man at her hiding place. Did she fall?

She bolted up in bed, and the room spun. But she called out for Nina. Wherever she was, Nina was always close. As her eyes adjusted, as nothing looked right, she climbed out of bed. In the dim light from a scatter of stars, a slice of a moon, she made out a door and rushed to it.

It wouldn’t open, so she banged on it, crying now as she called for Nina.

“Nina! I can’t get out. I feel sick. Nina. Daddy, please. Mom, let me out, let me out.”

Thinking it might come in handy later, they recorded her pleading cries.

The door opened so fast it smacked against Cate, knocked her down. The light outside the door burned into the room, illuminated the face of a scary clown with sharp teeth.

When she screamed, he laughed.

“Nobody can hear you, stupid, so shut the hell up or I’ll break off your arm and eat it.”

“Chill, Pennywise.”

A werewolf came in. He carried a tray, walked right by her as she scrambled back on her heels and elbows. He set it on the bed.

“You got soup, you got milk. You eat it, you drink it, otherwise my pal here will hold you down while I pour it down your throat.”

“I want my daddy!”

“Aww,” the one called Pennywise made a mean laugh. “She wants her daddy. Too bad because I already cut your daddy into pieces and fed him to the pigs.”

“Knock it off,” the wolfman said. “Here’s the deal, brat. You eat what we give you when we give it to you. You use that bathroom over there. You don’t give us trouble, you don’t make a mess, and you’ll be back with your daddy in a couple days. Otherwise, we’re going to hurt you, real bad.”

Fear and fury rose together. “You’re not a real werewolf because that’s made-up. That’s a mask.”

“Think you’re smart?”

“Yes!”

“How about this?” Pennywise reached behind him, pulled a gun out of his waistband. “Does this look real, you little bitch? You want to test it?”

Wolfman snarled at Pennywise. “Now you chill. And you—”

He added a second snarl for Cate. “Little smart-ass. Eat that soup, all of it. Same with the milk. Or when I come back, I’ll start breaking your fingers. Do what you’re told, you go back to being a princess in a couple days.”

Leaning down, Pennywise grabbed her hair with one hand, yanked her head back, and pressed the gun to her throat.

“Back off, you fucking clown.” Wolfman grabbed his shoulder, but Pennywise shook it off.

“She needs a lesson first. You want to find out what happens when little rich bitches back-talk? Say, ‘No, sir.’ Say it!”

“No, sir.”

“Eat your fucking dinner.”

He stormed out as she sat on the floor, shaking, sobbing.

“Just eat the soup, for Christ’s sake,” Wolfman muttered. “And be quiet.”

He went out, locked the door.

Because the floor was cold, she crawled back onto the bed. She didn’t have a blanket, and couldn’t stop shaking. Maybe she was a little hungry, but she didn’t want the soup.

But she didn’t want the man in the clown mask to break her fingers or shoot her. She just wanted Nina to come and sing to her, or Daddy to tell her a story, or her mom to show her all the pretty clothes she bought that day.

They were looking for her. Everybody. And when they found her, they’d put the men in the masks in jail forever.

Comforted by that, she spooned up some soup. It didn’t smell good, and the little bit she swallowed tasted wrong. Just wrong.

She couldn’t eat it. Why did they care if she ate it?

Frowning, she sniffed at it again, sniffed at the glass of milk.

Maybe they put poison in it. She trembled over that, rubbed her arms to warm them, to soothe herself. Poison didn’t make sense. But it didn’t taste right. She’d seen lots and lots of movies. Bad guys put stuff in food sometimes. Just because she was kidnapped, she wasn’t stupid. She knew that much. And they didn’t tie her up, just locked her in.

She started to run to the window, then thought: Quiet, quiet. She eased out of bed, padded to the window. She could see trees and dark, the shadow of hills. No houses, no lights.