"Nothing,Dee ," Ralph said. "Go back to sleep. Sit down, Micah, I'll get some coffee."
Micah followed Ralph into the kitchen, too agitated to sit still. "I know who has her," he said. "It's the same man who captured me."
Ralph swore under his breath as he filled two cups with instant coffee, added hot water, and handed one to Micah. "Do you know where he's taken her?"
"No. I mean yes, but I don't know where it is, how to get there."
"What's going on?" Dolores stood in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in a fluffy pink robe. "Where's Lainey? Is it the baby?"
"Sit down,Dee ," Ralph said. "Something's happened."
"We've got to call the police," Dolores said after Micah explained what had happened.
"And tell them what?"
"That Lainey's missing, of course."
"You have to wait twenty-four hours to file a missing person's report," Ralph replied. "Micah, do you remember anything about the place they took you?''
"No." He stared into the dark liquid in his cup for a long moment. "The building was old. Dark wood. It was at the end of a long, narrow driveway."
"Were there houses on the street?"
Micah frowned, then shook his head. "I don't remember." He stared at Lainey's father through eyes dark with anguish. "I don't remember."
"We'll find her." Ralph St. John laid his hand on Micah's arm, thinking he had never seen such anguish in a man's eyes in all his life. If he'd had any doubts about the depths of Micah's love for Lainey, they were gone now.
"Ralph, what are we going to do?"
"There's nothing to be done tonight,Dee . Why don't you make up the bed in the spare room for Micah? Tomorrow we'll go to the police."
Micah shook his head. "I'm going back to Lainey's house."
"That might be a good idea," Ralph agreed. "Someone should be there in case she comes home. Or in case they call..." He wrapped his arm around Dolores. "Maybe she's fine and we're worrying for nothing."
Micah and Dolores exchanged glances, then looked at Ralph.
"I was just trying to look on the bright side," Ralph said. He looked at Micah. "You'll call us if you hear anything?"
Part One Chapter Twenty-Three
She woke to darkness. There was an incredibly vile taste in her mouth; her head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. The mattress beneath her was hard and unfamiliar; when she tried to sit up, she realized her hands were cuffed to the headboard.
Terror bolted through her, clearing the cobwebs from her mind. Where was she?
She tensed as she heard someone slip a key into the lock. A moment later, light flooded the room.
"So, you're awake."
Lainey stared at the man, recognition washing over her in cold waves of fear. "You!" she exclaimed.
"So, you remember me," Red said, rubbing the back of his head. "I, of course, have good reason to remember you. What did you hit me with?''
"A tire iron."
He chuckled softly. "I admire your spunk, my dear." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a syringe. "I've got to go out for a little while," he said, "so you'll have to go back to sleep." Lainey stared at the needle, her stomach churning with fear and revulsion.
"Wait! Why am I here?"
"All in good time, my dear." He wiped her arm with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol, then inserted the needle into her arm.
"Where's Micah?" she asked. "Is he all right? Please... tell... me..."
Her words grew thick, and then darkness engulfed her once more.
Micah paused in mid-stride, his head cocked to one side. For a moment, he had imagined he heard Lainey's voice in his mind.
Going to the window, he stared into the night, his mind probing the darkness.Lainey? Lainey, can you hear me ?
Hands balled into tight fists, he listened intently, but he heard nothing, felt nothing, sensed nothing. And yet she was alive. He knew it with every fiber of his being.
She was alive, and he would find her.
When next she woke, it was daylight. She could see a thin stream of light filtering through the heavy black cloth that covered the room's single window.
Filled with an all-encompassing lethargy, Lainey stared around the room. A bed pan and some medical instruments, including a stethoscope, were strewn on a metal table at the foot of the bed. There was nothing else in the room except for a battered four-drawer dresser.
Lifting her head, she stared into the other room, felt her stomach