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“Are you in pain?”
“Yes, but that’s not what I want to talk to her about.” He reached out and found her arm, then held on tight. “I can’t see ... anything. I’m blind.”
Must be lunchtime.
Alex heard loud, squeaky wheels. Whoever it was whistled a song that seemed like a tune she should know, but she couldn’t recall the words to.
One by one she heard the larger door panels opening, breakfast trays no doubt being picked up and lunch trays substituted. With her panel locked, Alex couldn’t even try to see who’d brought hers. It didn’t matter, though. According to the other women, the blond man did all the work.
Was the man in the tunnel, the one who brought her here, his partner? Or was it the other way around? She’d profiled the UNSUB as younger and good-looking. She didn’t get a good look at the man at the park, but his demeanor seemed to match the confident individual she’d assumed was behind the abductions. Was he the man who’d kidnapped Tracy and Merrie? Was he the Ghost Rider?
After the man in the hallway left, Alex fetched her tray and took it to the table. A ham and cheese sandwich on wheat bread. Potato salad. A brownie. Lemonade and water. It was clear to her that they were treating the women well, trying to foster Stockholm Syndrome. Other than showers, they had just about every convenience except television, computers, and phones.
She knew why, of course. The women could contact the outside world with a computer or phone, and they could watch coverage about their disappearance on TV. Seeing their grieving, worried relatives would destroy the atmosphere the men were trying to create. They wanted them to feel safe. Protected. After a while they’d forget that these same men had taken away their freedom and separated them from their loved ones. It would make them much more malleable. Easier to control.
She was munching on the brownie when she heard a loud knock on another door. Sounded like Tracy’s. She rushed to her own door and put her ear against it in time to hear a larger metal panel sliding open.
“I’ll come for you when everyone else is getting dinner,” a male voice said. No doubt the blond again. “He’s taking you on a date. Here are the dress and shoes you have to wear.”
With that, the panel slid shut, and footsteps stopped at her door. She heard a click, and then the footsteps headed toward the end of the hall.
Alex tried her upper panel. It opened this time, and seconds later she heard another panel sliding open.
“Tracy, I heard,” Alex said.
“I’m supposed to go on a date with this guy tonight,” she replied. “I don’t want to do it, but I don’t think I can get out of it this time.”
The sound of metal against metal reverberated up and down the hall.
“It’ll be okay,” a voice said. Amy. “He’ll be nice to you, like he was with Merrie. Just go with it. We all did, and we’re okay.”
“Why didn’t any of you try to overpower him?” Alex said.
“Because it was made very clear that the other guy would kill all of us if we tried anything like that,” a voice said. Marla. “Look, Amy’s right. The date was okay, but it was because ... well, because we got by easier than we thought, you know? I’m sure every single one of us wondered if we’d be raped ... or killed. After that kind of threat hanging over our heads, the rest of what happened was a relief. It doesn’t mean we enjoyed it. We were just grateful to be left alone ... and alive.”
“That’s what I want you all to concentrate on,” Alex said. “Marla nailed it. You didn’t fight back because you were under threat . . . and because he made you feel grateful. But you shouldn’t be grateful. All of this, the good food, the soft beds, the clean sheets and clothes, the books . . . it’s all designed to lull you into a false sense of security. You’re thankful because it’s not worse than this. But I have a question for you.”
“What’s that?” Tracy asked.
“Where are the other women? We counted fourteen—now fifteen with me—as possible victims of these guys. Five of us are here. Where are the rest? Do you really think they let them go?”
“I asked him how many women were here,” Marla said. “He wouldn’t tell me, but he did say quite a few women had already been released. They were warned that if they said anything, the rest of us and their families would be in danger. He said when they let them go, they drug them and take them somewhere far away so they can’t lead the authorities here. That’s probably what happened to Sarah and Rhonda.”
“But there’s no evidence that they ever showed up,” Alex said. “The FBI would know if they made it home. None of them has.”
She heard only silence as the women digested what Alex said. She wasn’t trying to scare them, but she wanted ... no, she needed them to start fighting back.
“What should I do?” Tracy asked.
“Didn’t one of you say he asked questions? Did he mention an amusement park?”
“Yeah,” Merrie said. “One in a town called ... Ashville. I think he’s looking for someone he met there a long time ago.”
The others recalled his talking about the park with them as well.
“I know about that park. When he asks you, Tracy, tell him that I mentioned Magic Land Park. That I might have said I went there when I was young. You don’t need to be precise. And just go along with him. Let him know you’re not the one he’s looking for, but don’t fight him. I need you to get him ready for me.”
“You’re going to pretend you’re the one he’s been searching for?” Merrie asked. “The reason we’re all here? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“He’s going to keep hunting and abducting women until he finds her. This is the way to stop him . . . and I’m the only one who can do it.”
