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they want with her? What did they want from him?
He rushed back to the screen and reread the message.
We do not want money. We merely wish you to perform a service. If you perform
that service, Katie will be returned unharmed.
A service. What kind of service? What did that mean? He didn t have any
special skills. What could they want?
But he couldn t think about that. All he could think of was Katie, alone,
surrounded by strangers, terrified&
Christ, if he lost her&
He stopped at his window, looking up at the overcast sky. Hasn t she already
been through enough, God?
He needed help. He had to call the FBI. They were headquartered right down on
Pennsylvania Avenue. Hell, he could call Tom and Tom would call the director
and the whole goddamn agency would be combing the country for this Snake
creep.
But then another section of the message burned into his retinas.
If you inform any local or federal authorities of your plight, you will no
longer be of value to us. And subsequently, neither will your daughter. And,
we will dispose of her like any other useless object.
But he couldn t handle this alone. What did he know about dealing with
kidnapers? Maybe with Tom s help he could keep the FBI s involvement
ultrasecret.
Don t do anything stupid. We ll know&
And that was the really chilling part. We ll know. Obviously this Snake
already knew plenty about Katie s schedule, and about his own. He knew John s
e-mail address and what had Sister Louise said?  I called you about him just
before he left. That meant this Snake had been able to intercept a call to
him from Holy Family.
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Was his line tapped? Did they know everything? What about& ?
A sudden thought struck him like a sledge hammer: Katie s Tegretol! She
needed it twice a day. If she didn t get it
 Oh, Christ! he said, and dropped back into his chair.
He hit the function key for reply mail and banged in a message. He wanted to
spew every obscenity he knew at this scum, but he held back. If he angered
Snake, who would suffer the brunt of that anger?
Be calm, he told himself. Be cool. Think this out. Don t let the bastard know
he s made a basket case out of you. Stroke the slimy son of bitch.
Snake Your message received and understood. I have told no one. I will
follow all your directions to the letter. You are in control. Please do not
hurt Katie. But please listen. THERE IS SOMETHING YOU MUST KNOW! Katie has a
seizure disorder. A form of epilepsy. She needs medicine twice a day, every
day. If not, she will start convulsing. She ll have one convulsion after
another until she s&
His fingers paused over the keys, balking at the next words. He forced them to
type on.
brain dead. You must believe that what I am saying is true. I am not playing
games with you. You have my daughter. She is the most important thing in my
life. I have no idea how I can be of use to you or anyone else, but I will do
exactly as you say, do anything you want, but you must get her some of this
medicine. I can arrange to send you some, leave some somewhere, or call any
pharmacy you choose and have a supply waiting there. You must believe that
THIS IS NOT A TRICK!!! THIS IS A VERY SERIOUS MEDICAL PROBLEM !!!
John sat back and searched his panic-scrambled memory for what he knew about
the psychology of kidnapers. He remembered reading that many of them tended to
depersonalize their victims. He tried to add something that would make Katie a
person to this madman.
Katie s had it tough so far in her six short years. I know that sounds hard
to believe. How tough could a doctor s daughter have it, right? Believe me,
fate has not been kind to Katie. Her epilepsy is only part of the story.
Please don t make it any tougher on her. Please don t hurt her. Please. I ll
do anything you want, just don t hurt her.
He heard a noise& like a sob& and realized it was his own voice.
He was crying.
Quickly he wiped his eyes, added his name to the bottom, then hit the
function key that would send the message queue it into the Internet, route it
back to the remailer that would forward it to Snake& whoever he was.
To the U.K. and back? How long would that take? Ten minutes? An hour? Two? He
had no idea. He didn t know that much about the Internet. It was all so big,
so anarchic.
One thing he did know: He couldn t stay here. He d go crazy waiting around
for his e-mail icon to start blinking. He
That reminded him. He had to keep this secret. What if Phyllis knew his
password and decided to help him out by checking his e-mail? She d find out
about Katie. He returned to his desk and changed his e-mail password from
katie to& what? He couldn t think. He looked at the message still on the
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screen and could think of only one word, one that would be almost impossible
to forget.
He typed in snake.
Then he grabbed his coat and fled, averting his face as he passed Phyllis.
 Dr. Vanduyne, she said.  Are you leaving?
 Yes, he said without turning.
 Is something wrong?
 I ll be on the beeper. He hurried along the hall, avoiding eye contact with
everyone. When he saw a cluster of people waiting for the elevator he ducked
into the stairwell and galloped down.
Minutes later he was driving through downtown D.C., heading for home& but not
directly. He had to cook up a cover story for his mother. Not only because of
what the message had said no one must know that Katie is missing.!!!NO ONE!!!
but also because he didn t know how she d react. He had a vision of her
clutching her chest and keeling over.
But John wished he could tell someone. Just one person, so he could share the
burden, talk about it.
Never in his life, not even during the darkest hours when Katie had been
hospitalized in PICU three years ago and it wasn t yet clear she was going to
live, had he felt so alone.
Why Katie? Because of me? What have I got that anybody wants? What kind of
 service requires someone holding my daughter captive?
He heard horns blaring behind him and looked up. The light was green. He hit
the gas but after a hundred yards realized he couldn t go any farther. He
pulled onto the shoulder, leaned his head against the steering wheel, and
began to sob uncontrollably.
What if Katie was already dead?
18
Paulie had left the garage door open, so now he just guided the panel truck
into the narrow space, turned off the engine, got out, and pulled the door
down. Dark. Safe. Quiet.
But not for long. Not after Poppy saw the kid.
He could get tough, of course tell her to shut up and live with it. But when
Poppy wasn t happy, somehow neither was he. He d never been like that with
anyone else. He didn t get it.
But no sense in putting it off. Sooner or later he was going to have to face
the music. Might as well be sooner.
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He opened the rear doors, lifted the blanket-wrapped package in his arms, and
headed through the door into the house. Another one of Mac s touches: always a
house with an attached garage.
 Oh, honeeeee! he called, being careful not to use her name, but trying to
keep things light.  Here I am, home from a tough day at the office. He found
her standing in the middle of the living room waiting for him.
She was grinning, as he d hoped she d be.
 Hey, honey, yourself, she said.  Did everything go& ? Her grin faded as
her eyes took in the bundle he was carrying.  What the hell is that?
 It s the package. Her face got a funny look as she backed away a couple of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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