guards told me you talked in your sleep but I had no idea you spilled out all your fucking internal monologues.”
“Fuck you,” Caroline snarled.
“Did McIntyre put a muzzle on you at night? Jesus Christ.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and didn’t say anything.
“I imagine he did something else to keep you quiet. Maybe-”
Jeffrey Murdock didn’t deserve the privilege of speaking about her husband. “Don’t you dare talk about Jack. Keep his name and everything about him out of your mouth.”
“So defensive. Does it make your panties moist, dreaming about him?” Murdock asked.
What a disgusting, distasteful word. When it rolled off Murdock’s tongue, it sounded even more revolting. “You are truly vile,” she said.
He laughed again. “Don’t worry. I won’t check for evidence. This time.”
Caroline swallowed hard, trying not to think about all the horrible things Jeffrey Murdock could do to her. Her throat was dry. She looked over at the sink before she could help herself.
“Oh, yes. You’re in for another long day. You might want to freshen up.” He gave her that disturbing smile again. “Be a dear and make yourself presentable for us.”
Caroline shuddered. He made those comments on purpose, to keep one thing in the back of her mind. The one thing they’d never done. The one thing she hoped they would never do. Although considering everything else they’d done to her...
“You have ten minutes,” he said.
* * * * *
She wasn’t sure why the guards dragged her into the interrogation room and plunked her down at the table. She was cuffed but not immobilized. Would she thank them for that little concession? Not likely.
Murdock, Fischer, and Powell were all but ignoring her, although she knew full well that if she tried anything they’d spring into action. They were sorting boxes of personal property. Property confiscated from people crossing the border. Apparently even if you were allowed through, you still might have to bribe your way to ensure safe passage.
There were watches, necklaces, rings, baubles, heirlooms...likely the most precious possessions of those seeking a way out of the country. They’d probably been carefully chosen and packed because of their significance, then reluctantly handed over to the government in a time of terrible emotional trauma. All those memories, reduced to salvage.
Powell and Fischer rifled through one of the boxes as Murdock stood watch.
“I call dibs on that Rolex,” Fischer said, pulling it out of the box.
“Why not? That’s how I got mine.” Murdock flashed the watch on his own wrist. He smirked at Caroline. “We didn’t all just stumble into money, you know. Some of us had to work for it.”
Stealing wasn’t work, but Caroline decided to keep that observation to herself. She wanted no part of whatever game these men were playing.
Fischer flipped the watch over. “It’s got something inscribed on it.”
Murdock grabbed it out of his hand, gazing into the box. “I was hoping we’d get to this one. Hmm…what’s this? ‘To Tommy. Happy fiftieth birthday. All my love, Dr. Spencer.’”
Caroline’s ears perked up. What had he said? She strained for a better look at the watch.
Murdock handed the watch to Fischer. “Good choice. Although you might not want to wear a watch taken off of a dead guy.”
Fischer recoiled. “Good call.” He glanced over at Powell. “Want it?”
Powell grabbed it out of his hand. “Not gonna turn down an expensive piece of shit like that. I don’t care where it came from.”
Murdock brought the box over to the table by Caroline. “Shall we see what else is in here?”
Coincidence. It was pure coincidence. Just some person married to a doctor, male or female, who had the same name as Christine. Who just happened to receive a very nice watch for his fiftieth birthday, the same as Tom. Just a coincidence.
Murdock pulled another item out of the box and held it up. “What’s this?”
A scarf. The material was stiff, after being soaked through with blood. But for the bits of gold and blue peeking through here and there and the embroidered interlocking MU on the bottom, it was almost unrecognizable.
No.
He pulled out another item. A stuffed hippo, once a beautiful shade of blue, had large patches that appeared to be a dirty rust brown color.
No. No no no no.
Caroline let out a small cry and reached for the scarf and stuffed animal. She didn’t care what shape they were in. She had to touch them.
Murdock pulled them back. “Oh, we can’t have that. No touchy. You just get to look.”
“No,” she said. “No! Give them to