Page 102 of The Shadow Friends

A plan, thought Ingrid as they left behind the lights of the village. Outside, the landscape changed to dark woods and fields. At this late hour, most people were already in bed, and she saw only the occasional glow of a porch light or a television set. She had never been afraid of the dark; there was safety in the shadows, and so many places one could hide. But there was peril too. Invisible snares. Jaws, waiting to devour you.

“We can’t go back to the farm,” said Lloyd. “She took Maggie, so she knows that’s where Ingrid is.”

“She’d also know it’s a fortified location,” said Rodrigo. “That’s why she went after Maggie, not Ingrid. She’s been watching the farm, waiting for one of us to leave. Maggie’s her bargaining chip, and I expect we’ll soon be hearing a demand.”

“What she wants is me,” said Ingrid.

“And there’s only one response to that,” said Lloyd. “No.”

“Then your friend Maggie will die,” said Rodrigo.

“What are you saying? That Ingrid should just give herself up?”

“Calm down, Lloyd. We need to be strategic about this.”

“Not with my wife!”

“Lloyd,” said Ingrid, turning to look at him from the front seat. “We have to think about how to get Maggie back.”

“I’m thinking about you. We’ll find a way to get her back, but forget any talk about an exchange. There has to be another way.”

“First, we need to hear what the offer is,” said Ingrid. “Let’s go back to the farm. That’s where she’ll try to contact us.”

“She’s right, Lloyd,” said Rodrigo.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me that?”

“Lloyd,” Ingrid said quietly. “Let’s keep all our options open.”

“There’s only one option, as far as I see it. We handle this. You stay out of sight.”

Out of sight and locked away. A prisoner, she thought, as they drove back to Blackberry Farm. They didn’t see any cars following them on the road, but then, the killer didn’t need to follow them. Hannah Murray already knew they were staying at Maggie’s house. That’s where she would try to contact them. For the negotiations to begin, that’s where they had to be.

When they arrived at the farm and she stepped into the house, she felt as if she were walking back into her cell. A comfortable one, with all the amenities, but a prison cell just the same. When Lloyd turned the dead bolt and armed the security system, he was locking out intruders. He was also locking her in.

In the kitchen, she made a fresh pot of coffee. They would not be sleeping tonight, so she made a full carafe, enough to fuel them for the next few hours, at least. As it steamed and dripped, she joined the men at the table to consider their next moves. But they had no next moves. It was a matter of waiting for Hannah Murray to make her demands.

Maggie’s laptop, lying on the kitchen counter, suddenly dinged with a text message.

They looked at each other. Ingrid stood, flipped open the laptop, and typed in Maggie’s password. The text had been sent from Maggie’s own cell phone number. This is it, she thought, and opened the message.

All it contained was a photo of Maggie’s face. She was so bruised and battered that her left eye was swollen shut, but her expression was unflinchingly defiant. She might be doomed, but she was clearly not yet defeated. Most important, she was still alive.

Or she had been alive when this photo was taken.

“It’s proof of life,” said Rodrigo.

“But where’s the demand?” said Lloyd. “There must be a demand. Why send us just that photo?”

“She’s tormenting us,” said Ingrid. “Telling us she holds all the cards. Oh God, we can’t let Declan see this.”

“But it’s information,” said Rodrigo. “We all need to see it.”

“Give that to me,” snapped Lloyd. He snatched the laptop from the countertop, brought it to the table, and sat down. “Maybe there’s another reason she sent this photo.”

“What reason?” said Rodrigo.

“Let me dig into this. See what I can find.” Lloyd began to type, his fingers flying on the keyboard. He blew up the image and zeroed in on the background. “This looks like some sort of wooden support post behind her. And there’s a hint of a white curtain on her left. A residence. Some knotty pine here, on the wall . . .”