shut her eyes. This was so bad. The woman had to stop. But over and over again the calls for help were repeated. That meant Casanova wasn’t in the house. He must have gone out.
“Somebody please help me. My name is Kate McTiernan. I’m a doctor from the University of North Carolina hospital.” The screams continued… ten times, twenty times. Not in panic, Naomi began to realize. In rage!
He couldn’t be in the house. He wouldn’t let her go on this long. Naomi finally summoned up her courage and shouted as loud as she could. “Stop it! You must stop calling for help. He’ll kill you! Shut up! That’s all I’m going to say!”
There was silence… blessed silence, finally. Naomi thought she could hear the tension all around her. She certainly felt it.
Kate McTiernan didn’t stop for long. “What’s your name? How long have you been here? Please, talk to me… hey, I’m talking to you!” she shouted.
Naomi wouln’t answer her. What was wrong with the woman? Had she lost it after the last beating?
Kate McTiernan called out again. “Listen, we can help each other. I’m sure we can. Do you know where you’re being kept?”
The woman was definitely brave… but she was being foolish, too. Her voice was strong, but it was beginning to sound hoarse. Kate.
“Please talk to me. He isn’t here now, or he would have come with his stun gun. You know I’m right! He won’t know if you talk to me. Please… I have to hear your voice again.
Please. For two minutes. That’s all. I promise you. Two minutes. Please. Just one minute?”
Naomi still refused to answer her. He could have come back by now. He might be in the house, listening to them. Even watching them through the walls.
Kate McTiernan was back on the air. “All right, thirty seconds. Then we’ll stop. Okay? I promise I’ll stop… otherwise, I’ll keep this up until he does come back…”
Oh, God, please, stop talking, a voice inside Naomi was screaming. Stop it, right now.
“He’ll kill me,” shouted Kate. “But he’s going to do that, anyway! I saw part of his face. Where are you from? How long have you been here?”
Naomi felt as if she were suffocating. She couldn’t breathe, but she stayed at the door and listened to every word the woman had to say. She wanted to talk to her so badly.
“He may have used a drug called Forane. Hospitals use it. He might be a doctor. Please. What do we have to fear—except torture and death?”
Naomi smiled. Kate McTiernan had guts, and also a sense of humor. Just hearing another voice was so unbelievably good.
The words tumbled out of Naomi’s mouth, almost against her will. “My name is Naomi Cross. I’ve been here for eight days, I think. He hides behind the walls. He watches all the time. I don’t think he ever sleeps. He raped me,” she said in a clear voice. It was the first time she had said the words out loud. He raped me.
Kate answered right back. “He raped me, too, Naomi. I know how you feel, terribly bad… dirty all over. It’s so good to hear your voice, Naomi. I don’t feel so alone anymore.”
“Me, too, Kate. Now please shut up.”
Downstairs in her room, Kate McTiernan felt so tired now. Tired, but hopeful. She was slumped against one of the walls when she heard the voices around her.
“Maria Jane Capaldi. I think I’ve been here about a month.”
“My name is Kristen Miles. Hello.”
“Melissa Stanfield. I’m a student nurse. I’ve been here nine weeks.”
“Christa Akers, North Carolina State. Two months in hell.”
There were at least six of them.
Part Two
Hide and Seek
Chapter 36
A TWENTY-NINE-YEAR-OLD Los Angeles Times reporter named Beth Lieberman stared at the tiny, blurred green letters on her computer terminal. She watched with tired eyes as one of the biggest stories at the Times in years continued to unfold. This was definitely the most important story of her career, but she almost didn’t care anymore.
“This is so crazy and sick… feet. Jesus Christ,” Beth Lieberman groaned softly under her breath. “Feet.”
The sixth “diary” installment sent to her by the Gentleman Caller had arrived at her West Los Angeles apartment early that morning. As had been the case with the previous diary entries, the killer supplied the precise location of a murdered woman’s body before starting into his obsessive, psychopathic message for her.
Beth Lieberman had immediately called the FBI from her home, and then she drove quickly to the offices