The more she tried to talk, the more it felt like she was being choked all over again.
He gave her one of those single-jerk-of-the-chin cop nods that could mean yes or could mean no, turned to speak into his radio, then left to join the doctors just outside the open door to the room, beyond her hearing.
She lay back on the stretcher and closed her eyes, blocking out the light blaring down into her face, distancing herself from the pain.
She glanced at the clock. Panic ripped through her, twisting her gut.
7:00. Time was up.
If she was wrong and the man who'd kidnapped her hadn't been working alone, then his partners could be anywhere. He'd left her to die in the pit hours ago. Plenty of time for his accomplices to find her family and infiltrate the FBI's computer system with her passcode.
Nick could already be dead. Her stomach clenched, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. Fear had a stranglehold on her chest. Her heart thudded so hard and fast it set off the alarm on the monitor behind her.
"Are you okay?" a nurse asked.
Lucy opened her eyes and nodded. The nurse didn't see the lie; she was busy checking her vitals on the monitor.
How long since the man had left her to die in the tank? No, that wasn't the right question. The right question was, Where had he gone first?
If what he'd told her was the truth, then he'd need a computer that was part of a law enforcement network, tied to the National Crime Information Center and with admin privileges. It didn't have to be an FBI or DOJ computer, but it needed to be more than a mobile data terminal like what the deputy had in his vehicle. No way would the man be able to physically breach the FBI's field office in Pittsburgh. But a computer at a police station would work.
Her gaze centered on the deputy. He still hovered near the door, frowning, one hand on his weapon, as he talked to her doctors. Why hadn't he already called the FBI? Why hadn't he asked more questions? Miranda be damned. She was a federal agent, and a man was dead. You'd think he'd want to know something here and now rather than waiting for a detective.
Maybe he was working with her captor. Or maybe her captor was law enforcement. He'd said he had a schedule to meet. Seven o'clock. Maybe it was a work schedule, starting a shift that would give him access to the computer and, through it, the DOJ database?
Or maybe the deputy was just an unimaginative cop, content to do his business without getting involved in federal messes best left to the brass and detectives. Her mind whirled with suspicions and second guesses.
It didn't matter. She needed a phone-one call to Walden, to make sure her family was safe, and she could relax, let the doctors do their work, and let the rest sort itself out.
She glanced at the nurse. She'd been sympathetic, she'd come so close to giving Lucy a phone. A phone that Lucy saw was still in the pocket of the nurse's lab coat. She just needed to get her alone for a minute.
Lucy tapped on the bed rail with the handcuff and nodded to the nurse when she turned around. "Need to pee," she whispered.
"They're talking to the surgeons at Three Rivers about Life Flighting you there-it's the best hope for your leg. The deputy is trying to figure out what to do with you if they do. Either way, you need surgery. They'll put a catheter in there."
Lucy shook her head. "Can't hold it."
The nurse nodded, patted her shoulder, and went to join the men. One of the doctors left, and the other shrugged at the nurse before following him from the room. Lucy hoped that shrug didn't mean they wanted the nurse to put the catheter in here, or worse, a bedpan-her best bet was if the nurse took her to use a restroom.
The nurse kept talking to the deputy, giving Lucy time to sit back up and assess her situation. Naked except for a hospital gown, her left foot swathed in bandages and an ACE wrap holding a splint in place, another splint on her left hand … not much in the way of assets. She didn't even have Megan's bracelet any longer-it, along with everything else she'd worn, was now in brown paper bags in the hands of the deputy.
She glanced at her left hand. Her wedding ring was gone-she vaguely recalled the younger doctor cutting it off during the frenzy of her arrival. Because of the way her hand and fingers had swollen. Boxer's fracture, he'd said.
Her lucky charm. She couldn't stop staring at her naked ring finger, barely visible beyond the edge of the splint. For some reason losing her ring made her even more fearful that something terrible had happened to Nick. Magical thinking, he often chided her-usually with a laugh that his uber-rational wife could be so superstitious.
Superstition or not, the panic was real enough. She needed to get out of here. Now.
The nurse left and returned a minute later with a wheelchair.
"It's not like she's going anywhere. Not with that foot," she said to the deputy as she transferred the bag of IV fluids to a pole attached to the back of the wheelchair. Lucy couldn't help but think that pole would make a good weapon. "And the bathroom is right there." She nodded to a door on the opposite side of the room.
The deputy went to check it out himself, ensuring there were no weapons and no means for Lucy to escape. At least that's what she'd be looking for if she were in his shoes.
"Okay, okay," he told the nurse. "By the time you're back, hopefully the supervisor will be here. I have a call in to the FBI about her. They're going to call back." The deputy sounded irritated that Lucy was still his burden to bear, but at least he had contacted the Bureau-or claimed he had. He unlocked Lucy's handcuffs and returned them to his duty belt.
"My family?" she asked.
"The person I spoke with at the FBI said once they verified your identity, they'd send someone out."
Lucy shook her head. That would take too long. Why couldn't he understand that they were out of time? "Call Don Burroughs. Detective, Major Crimes, Pittsburgh Police. Ask him to send someone. Now."
That earned her another scowl, but it seemed like he was thawing, actually beginning to believe. "You better not be yanking my chain, lady-"
"I'm not."
"All right." He turned to the nurse. "I'll be right outside." Glared at Lucy. "Making another call."
The nurse lowered the bed rail and helped Lucy swing her legs over the side. Her left foot felt like a deadweight, tugging at her body as if trying to escape.
"You okay?" the nurse asked. Lucy nodded, and the nurse guided her into a standing position, braced against the bed, her injured foot off the floor. Then the nurse added a second hospital gown, draping it from back to front, returning to Lucy a small amount of dignity, before sliding the wheelchair into place behind her.
Lucy slumped into the chair and let the nurse lift her leg onto the padded footrest. The exertion had left her drenched with sweat and feeling flushed. Hard to believe that a short while ago she'd been freezing.
The nurse pushed her into the small restroom. Before she could help Lucy up onto the toilet, Lucy made a grab for the nurse's phone.
She snagged it from the nurse's pocket, but her movement was clumsy, lacking the finesse she needed to hide it. The nurse whirled. "What do you think you're doing?"
Then
3:12 p.m.
He stopped the slide show on Megan's image. Lucy sat up straight, gaze lasered in on her daughter's photo. She was not going to let this man hurt her family. Not an option.
She was going to kill him. Lucy had no idea how, but the thought brought with it a certainty that dulled all pain.
He sensed her shift in mood. His foot stomped down on hers. Her shriek echoed through the space for what felt like hours. By the time the sounds died, she was facedown on the floor, barely able to breathe, the cold concrete freezing her tears.
"I gave you what you wanted," she pled. "Do whatever you want with me, leave my family alone." Her words emerged in a fever-rush of anguish and fear.
Then she saw. Instead of focusing on the big picture of how to save her family, she needed to answer the smaller question: What did he want, right here, right now?
He wanted the pain to distract her. No. More than that, he wanted it to break her. Wanted her to surrender to it. To him.
He wanted to emerge from here the victor.
As much as she wanted the pain to stop, she realized she could use it.
"Please," she begged, no longer fighting the tears. She watched his face in the dim light, trying to read his expression. His eyes widened slightly, just for a moment, and his lips curled in a genuine smile. Finally, a glimpse of the true monster-he enjoyed her pain, but even more, he relished her loss of control.
Now she knew what the beast fed on. Just had to figure out how to keep him happy long enough for her to kill him.
He crouched down beside her again. "Megan's the easy choice," he said in a conversational tone. He softly stroked her hair away from her eyes. "After all, Nick can always have more kids. Let's see … she's in English now. That gives my guys time to grab her when classes change in nine minutes."
"No." Lucy had to fight to keep the anger from her voice, to reveal only her pain. "Please. No."
Her entire body shook-cold and pain and adrenaline taking their toll. She lay on her back in the growing shadows that filled the pit, the cerulean sky dancing at the edge of her vision. Freedom. She couldn't let it distract her, had to think only of keeping this madman happy.
"You're right. Best to save Megan for last. Besides, she's easy to get to. Any time." He pursed his lips as if concentrating, consulted his phone once more. "Let's see. Your mom's at a planning committee for the church bazaar. And then she'll be meeting her gentleman friend, Charlie, for an early-bird dinner and bowling. Did she tell you, she bowled a one-eighty last week?"