nothing. Then suddenly, we just went down. Bam, just like that. Jesus.”
“Nate.”
The stark tone in Josh’s voice made Nate’s head whip around. The young man was still clutching his blanket around himself with his good hand, pointing at the wall. At the whiteboard, to be exact. A big one that hung on the kitchen wall, with magnets and clips for schedules and coupons and grocery lists.
There was a cheerful border of dancing cartoon animals, and beneath it, someone had cleared the space with the eraser, and written in the black marker that hung next to the board.
CHECKMATE BITCH
“Gil,” Josh said. “That’s Gil.”
Nate stared at the word, struggling with his own rage. He heard his dad’s taunting voice in his ears, interspersed with those awful thudding sounds as he slapped Mom’s head back against the kitchen wall. You got a problem with that? You got something to say to me, dumb bitch? Why don’t you just say it? Don’t be shy. Say it!
He’d wanted so badly to kill that asshole. The one time he tried, he ended up in the hospital in a neck brace. He’d ‘fallen down the stairs.’ That old fucking classic. Mom had used it herself on many occasions.
He was shaking, hard. Rage, and fear. A toxic blend that could make him stupid. Make him fuck things up. Chill. She needs you. You have to fucking…chill.
They jerked around at the muted buzz of a phone. It took a few moments to understand where it came from.
The burner phone. The one that he’d given to Elisa, which was lying on the kitchen island. Gil had taken it out of her pocket, and left it for them.
Nate snatched it up, as the phone stopped ringing. He tried to call back, but the call wouldn’t go through. Then a notice for a text message appeared.
Some GPS coordinates, and then, Bring me the flash drive. Bring Josh. Move fast. Come alone to the meet. We’ll meet you and bring you the rest of the way.
Nate replied. Don’t hurt her
Gil’s response was instant. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. This is not a negotiation. Be quick. No Josh = she dies. No flash drive = she dies. Too slow = she dies. Bring company = she dies. Police show up = she dies.
Nate stared down at the message, his mind racing. I don’t have Josh. He’s at the hospital ICU.
What hospital?
Amity Springs, he wrote. In shock. Broken arm, concussion. Burns.
If you’re lying, she dies. The window is closing. Move your ass.
“Flash drive?” Josh asked. “What flash drive?”
Nate pulled it out of the breast pocket of his leather jacket and showed it to him. “Nasty sex videos. It shows Gil fucking an underage prostitute at one of Shel Sinclair’s orgies, among other things. Your sister gave it to me to look after.”
Clint and Mitch were more or less upright now, though they both looked like they should be hunched over a toilet. He twitched the nearest tablet toward himself and looked up the coordinates that Clemens had sent. “Where is this place?”
The map had a pointer. Josh leaned over and stared at it. “It’s not far from another one of my dad’s houses,” he said. “Maybe ten miles. That’s a state park where he wants you to go, but I’ll bet you anything he’s keeping Lu in that house.”
“What house?”
“Here.” Josh pointed a blood-darkened finger at the map. “It’s on Beecham Lake. One of my father’s favorite mountain houses. He spent a lot of time there. He did a lot of work and renovations on that place. It’s about an hour and a half drive from here.”
“What’s with him, using family properties for his dirty games? Seems risky.”
Josh shook his head. “Once I understood that he wasn’t ever going to let me leave that place alive, he got real talkative. Especially when he drank. He kept me there because it would be easier to dispose of me. He wouldn’t have to bury me, or hide my body or account for my disappearance. He’d just stage a suicide or a drug overdose. They’d find my body, and oh, woe is me. He liked to fuck with my head about it. What’s your preference, Joshie? Slit writs in the bathtub? Hanging from the elk horn chandelier? Chug-a-lugging some drain cleaner? He got off on that. Evil sadist motherfucker. He’ll have something nasty planned for Lu, too.”
They stared at each other in blank dismay.
“I have to go,” Nate said. “Right now.”
“I should go,” Josh said resolutely.