Panic Attack

There was no doubt about it- calling the police could be a huge mistake. His best chance to save Marissa was to placate Xan, give him exactly what he wanted, but how was he supposed to get one million dollars by noon tomorrow? He’d lied; he had the money- well, he could raise it, anyway. The problem was he only had access to a couple grand in cash and money market funds, but if he sold stock, mutual funds, liquidated part of his 401(k), he could get the million. But it would take time to do this; he sure as hell couldn’t get it done by noon tomorrow and make it all the way up to Kingston.

Then Adam had a thought that scared the hell out of him. What if he gave Xan the money and Xan killed Marissa anyway? Why wouldn’t he? What would there be to stop him?

Adam was feeling completely hopeless when he had another idea. It was risky, very risky, but it seemed to have a better chance of working than any of the other plans. He thought it through, deciding he had no choice but to go for it.

twenty- seven

Joh

Naturally Adam called back, sounding desperate. Yeah, Joh

After he gave Bloom the instructions, he ended the call while Bloom was still talking and turned off the phone. Then he wiped off all the prints and tossed the phone into the woods as far as it would go.

He drove another hour or so to a small town called Accord. When he was growing up at St. John’s, Father He

Joh

They drove along the narrow, winding country road. There were so many weeds and overhanging trees in front of the max’s sign that Joh

Joh

When Joh

“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled, but she was fighting back, trying to scratch his face. Then she knocked the flashlight out of his hand, which really pissed him off. He fumbled around on the floor while she continued screeching in his ear, “Help me! Help me!” and then he grabbed the flashlight and smashed her in the face with it. He hit her harder than he meant to- he heard bone, probably her nose, breaking- and it didn’t shut her up at all; it made her scream even louder.

He found a rag he’d brought on the floor and poured some more chloroform onto it and then pressed it over her face. He was pushing down hard, right on her probably broken nose, which had to kill, but after about ten seconds she stopped fighting back and then passed out again.

He waited several seconds, enjoying the sudden silence, and then he put on his backpack and dragged Marissa out of the car. It was about ten degrees cooler up here than in the city- it felt like it was in the low forties, maybe the upper thirties. He should’ve brought a warmer jacket or a sweater and blankets and, oh yeah, food and water. But, come on, he couldn’t think of everything, right? Besides, they were only going to be here one night.

He dragged her up the rickety steps to the porch of one of the bungalows. It was the one he used to stay in with Carlos and a couple of other guys. Some of the floorboards were so loose, probably rotting away and eaten by termites, that he thought the whole floor might cave in. When he pulled on the handle of the front door it was stuck at first, and when he yanked on it the upper part of the door came off its hinges.

It was freezing in the bungalow; it seemed colder than outside. It was musty, too, like air hadn’t circulated in this place for years. Coughing, he shined the flashlight ahead of him as he dragged Marissa along toward the bedroom in the back of the bungalow. His feet were crunching against something. He’d thought it was gravel or sand, but then he shined the flashlight downward and saw that the floor was covered with mouse shit.

The mattress on the old single bed, the one he used to sleep on, was covered with mouse shit, too, but what could you do? He rested Marissa on the bed, got the rope from the backpack, and tied her up so tightly that the rope was probably cutting into her arms, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He was about to tape her mouth shut again, but there was so much blood from her broken nose he was afraid she’d suffocate or choke to death. What he really wanted to do was shoot her right now. Yeah, she was a spoiled brat, and she’d tried to scratch his eyes out a few minutes ago, but he really had nothing against her. His grudge was against her father, so the best thing he could do for her was to put a bullet in her head.

But he knew he had to be smart about this, not humane. Besides, she’d be out of her misery soon. If everything went as pla

Joh