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“Building burned down almost ten years ago,” he replied.
“So do we know where the Lincolns are now? Let’s bring them in for questioning immediately,” Heidi demanded.
“We haven’t been able to track them down yet. Job’s doctors said that when they got the news that his cancer had returned and was terminal, they decided to do some traveling,” Allina explained.
“Convenient way to disappear for a while, so no one is looking for them while they resume their killing spree,” Heidi noted. “Any family?”
“None living,” he answered. “We’re looking into major websites that specialize in antiques. If we can find where they’re getting the dolls from, we might be able to find an address. Or,” Jonathon added dismally, “the dolls may be leftovers from Ruth’s parents’ collection.”
“Speaking of the parents,” Heidi looked thoughtful, “wouldn’t they have noticed their daughter and son-in-law smuggling abducted children into their place of business? And okay, the place may have had empty rooms, but wouldn’t they have heard the children calling for help?”
“Could have brought the kids in at night,” Allina shrugged. “Maybe they soundproofed the attic, or maybe they threatened the children into keeping quiet. Clara mentioned under hypnosis that she wasn't able to talk loudly because she’d get a zap, so it’s also a strong possibility that they used a shock collar.”
“I was thinking,” he began slowly, “Clara couldn’t remember how she and Tommy escaped, just that the door was open. What if it was one of Ruth’s parents? They went up to the attic for some reason; maybe they heard something, or maybe they just wanted to store something up there. Maybe that was who opened the door.”
“Why do you think it was one of her parents and not the children themselves that somehow got it open?” Heidi looked curious.
“Not long after Clara and Thomas were found, Ruth’s parents died in a car accident. Their car crashed into a tree on a quiet country road. Weather that day was nice, the car wasn't found to have any mechanical faults, and the driver, Ruth’s father, had no drugs or alcohol in his system.”
“You're thinking suicide?” Allina asked.
“Could have been driver fatigue,” Heidi suggested.
“Could have been,” he agreed, knowing it wasn't. “But what if it was suicide? If they found out what their daughter was doing, that their own child had killed eighteen innocent children, would have killed another two and who knows how many others if they hadn’t stumbled upon the attic. It would have been a terrible choice. Turn in your only child to the police or let them keep murdering kids. Maybe they couldn’t bring themselves to turn her in, but they couldn’t live with letting her keep killing, and guilt ate at them until they had no choice but to end it however they could.”
Jonathon wondered where his own guilt would leave him if he didn’t get Clara back alive.
* * * * *
5:18 P.M.
“Almost there,” Clara encouraged.
Jimmy had been working at sawing through the tape at her right wrist for what had to be a solid hour or more. She wasn't sure exactly since she wasn't wearing a watch, but progress was slow. The little boy had found a screw coming loose from one of the small chairs at the table. With nothing but his hands, it had taken him a while to work it all the way free. His small hands also made work slow cutting through the tape, and he had to stop often because of cramps. Add to that that he kept slipping and cutting her with the sharp end of the screw and he was going even slower. Clara didn’t mind the scratches; she barely felt the pain, all she cared about was getting free. Once Jimmy got her right hand undone she could do the rest herself and probably get all three other limbs free in about a tenth of the time.
While Jimmy worked on cutting the tape, Katie was curled up in a ball on her lap. The children had managed to get her chair upright again, and ever since, Katie had been sitting in her lap, arms wrapped tightly around her neck.
“Got it,” Jimmy declared triumphantly, a smile breaking out on his face. When he smiled, he was a beautiful little boy. Clara could see why the killers had chosen him.
“Great job,” she smiled back at him. “Here, give me the screw, I can do the others, you just rest now,” she told Jimmy, who sank to the floor with a weary sigh. “Honey, I need you to hop down for a moment,” she told Katie.
Whimpering, Katie shook her head and snuggled closer. “I’m scared.”
“I know, sweetheart, but I need to get out of this chair, so I can find a way for us to get out of here.” Clara also thought she stood a pretty good chance at taking the couple when they came back. They were old, and this time she was going to be ready for them. But if they returned while she was still stuck in this chair, then none of them stood a chance. “Just for a minute, honey. Sit there with Jimmy, and as soon as I cut through all this tape then I can hold you again, okay?”
Reluctantly, Katie slid off her lap, sitting as close as to Jimmy as she could. With her hand free and no time to lose, Clara began to saw at the tape on her left wrist. The screw wasn't a good tool; it was too small, and not sharp enough to cut easily through the layers of duct tape that wound around and around her arm. Still, she didn’t give up, working steadily away and she was about halfway when she heard footsteps.
“No,” she wailed.
They were coming.
And she wasn't free yet.
She’d been so close.
So close to getting free.
So close to standing a real chance at getting herself and the children home.
