Diane Chamberlain - The Lost Daughter

“It’s not loaded, right?” she asked.

“Actually, it is,” he said.

She took another step backward until she was up against the pantry. “You said it wouldn’t be. Take out the bullets.”

“I think it’s better if it’s loaded. Just in case. I don’t mean you would shoot her.” He looked suddenly worried. “Whatever you do, don’t shoot her. She’s all we’ve got to trade with. But you might need to shoot the ceiling or something to keep her in line. She’s feistier than I anticipated.”

“Oh, Tim, I don’t want a gun!”

“The safety is on,” he said. “Let me show you how this thing works.”

She watched carefully as he toggled the safety back and forth. She supposed he was right. It would give her more confidence if she had a weapon. It didn’t matter that Genevieve was taller or bigger or stronger if she was the one with the gun.

She took the gun from him, her gloved hands trembling.

“Man, you haven’t stopped shaking since we got here,” he said.

“Not since you left me here, actually,” she admitted. “I can’t stop.”

“It’s all going to work out, I promise,” he said as he took a tea bag from the box in the pantry. “That asshole governor will want to keep this quiet and get her back before anyone’s the wiser. He’s that way. Very private. So I want you to stop worrying, okay?” He lifted her mask a couple of inches and planted a kiss on her cheek.

She poured boiling water into a mug, spilling some of it onto the worn wooden counter.

“You get the cookies,” he said, taking the mug from her. “And try to calm down. Don’t let her see how rattled you are.”

She was worrying him, she thought, as she put a few sugar cookies onto a plate. Disappointing him.

Genevieve was still sitting on the old sofa when they walked back into the room, and Marty stood at the window, looking less confident than he had a few minutes earlier.

“I heard something out there,” he said. “A thud or something.”

“It’s nothing.” Tim set the mug on the coffee table.

“I heard it a lot while you were gone,” CeeCee said. “I think it’s just a branch brushing against the porch.” How was someone as paranoid as Marty going to survive on the run? She placed the plate of cookies next to the mug, taking one of them for herself, although she was hardly hungry. She needed something to do with her hands.

Genevieve suddenly picked up all four of the cookies and threw them at the men. Then she threw the plate at CeeCee, catching her on the side of her face. Of Sleeping Beauty’s face.

“You bitch!” Marty was on the woman in a flash, pinning her arms to the sofa, and CeeCee saw a sharp flicker of fear in her eyes.

“Leave her alone,” she said, surprised as the words left her mouth. “You can’t blame her.” It suddenly occurred to her that befriending the woman might be the right approach. Her sympathy for her was genuine. As Marty backed away, CeeCee could tell that Genevieve was struggling to keep from crying. Her lower lip quivered and her eyes blinked back tears. She sat down next to her. “It’s going to be okay,” she said.

Genevieve stared at her. “What have you let these guys talk you into?” she asked.

CeeCee quickly stood again as she felt the upper hand slip away from her. “I think for myself, bitch,” she said, but Genevieve’s eyes bored hard into CeeCee’s until she had to look away.

Tim pointed to the governor’s wife. “Do what Sleeping Beauty says, or there’ll be trouble,” he said. “Marty and I are leaving.”

“I don’t feel well,” Genevieve said, her hand rubbing her back again. “I could be going into labor.”

“Right,” Tim said with disdain. He looked at Marty. “You ready?”

“You bet,” Marty said, but he opened the door slowly and peered outside before walking onto the porch.

CeeCee stood next to the coffee table, watching the men leave. She listened to the van doors slam shut and the engine cough to life, and she thought, What now? She felt Genevieve’s eyes on her. The woman hadn’t touched her tea. “Do you want more cookies?” she asked.

Genevieve ignored the question. “So, what happens now?” she asked. “Will they tell my husband where I am and he can come get me?”

A horrible thought. Surely they wouldn’t send the husband here. She’d be a sitting duck if he showed up.

“They’ll come get you and take you back,” she said, as if she knew that for a fact.

“Where are they going now?”

“Someplace where they can call your husband.”

“Why didn’t they call him from here? Then I could talk to him and let him know I’m alive. That would make more sense.”

“There’s no phone here.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Then why didn’t they take me someplace where there is a phone?”

It was a good question and CeeCee didn’t have the answer. “Look,” she said, “this is the way it is, so we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

Genevieve suddenly got to her feet and CeeCee panicked. “You sit down!” she said.

She thought Genevieve was going to ignore her, and she suddenly realized she’d left the gun in the kitchen. Her voice must have carried power, though, because the woman dropped onto the sofa again.

“I wasn’t kidding that I don’t feel well,” she said. “My back aches.”

“You probably pulled something when they nabbed you,” CeeCee said.

“It ached before that. It’s ached all day.”

“When is your baby due?”

“Three weeks from now.”

“Then it’s not the baby,” CeeCee said as if she knew about these things. Babies did come early, but a backache had nothing to do with labor. At least she hoped it didn’t. She walked over to the bookshelf. “You want a book to read?” she asked.

“I don’t want a book,” Genevieve said. “If you think I can concentrate on reading, you’re as crazy as your friends.”

CeeCee sat down in the chair by the window and folded her hands on her lap.

“What color’s your real hair?” Genevieve asked.

“None of your business.” She realized that she’d completely forgotten about disguising her voice. Too late now.

“I don’t think you’re as tough as you pretend.” Genevieve almost smiled. “You really should have gotten a tougher mask than that.”

CeeCee touched the thin plastic mask.

“Do you go to Carolina?” Genevieve asked. “You’re not one of my students, are you? You sound like one of them.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I were,” CeeCee said.

Genevieve looked annoyed. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.

Damn. She’d hoped they could get through this entire fiasco without either of them needing to use the bathroom.

“I have to go with you,” CeeCee said.

“Are those your orders?” Genevieve moved forward on the couch as though preparing to stand up. “Don’t let her out of your sight?” She was talking to her like she might a child. It was irksome enough to be annoying, and CeeCee was glad. It made Genevieve less sympathetic.

“I think for myself,” CeeCee said.

“Fine,” Genevieve said. “I need to go to the bathroom. Now.”

“Stay here one minute.” CeeCee darted into the kitchen and grabbed the gun. Just touching it started her hands shaking again. She checked to be sure the safety was on, then carried it into the living room.

“Whoa!” Genevieve said. “You don’t need that!”

“You can get up now, and I’ll walk with you,” CeeCee said.

Genevieve struggled to her feet, giving CeeCee a wide berth as she walked toward the hallway. She held one arm out as if she could block a bullet with her hand. The other hand she held protectively over her belly.