Even in the dim light of the darkened room, Poppy could see tears glistening on the cheeks below the black sleep mask they used as a blindfold.
“Listen, if you promise not to yell, I’ll like take that gag out of your mouth. Is that a deal?” The kid nodded.
“Promise not to yell, now.” Another nod.
Poppy removed the gag.
“Where am I?” the kid said, her voice wavering through a sob. “Who are you? Why am I tied up? Where’s my daddy?”
“You’re going to be staying here awhile.”
“I want my daddy. Why isn’t he here?” Might as well lay it out for her: “He doesn’t know where you are.”
She started crying again, the sobs becoming progressively louder. More tears flooded from under the blindfold.
“I want to go home!”
“Remember our deal about not yelling. I’ll have to put that gag back in if you yell.” The kid bit her lower lip in an attempt to muffle her sobs. The sound was so pitiful, it damn near tore Poppy’s heart out. She knelt beside the bed.
“Hey, look,” she said softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re just going to be visiting with us for a few days.”
“I wuh-want my daddy!”
Poppy had to get her off that subject. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Kuh-katie.”
“Kuh-katie, huh? I never heard a name like Kuh-katie before.”
“No. Kay-tie.”
“Oh. Katie. I’ve heard of that. That’s a cute name. Look, Katie… are you hungry?”
She shook her head.
“Have to go to the bathroom?”
A nod. “Your voice sounds funny.”
“That’s because I’m wearing a mask.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to see my face.”
“I can’t see anything.”
“I know. But just in case the blindfold slips. We’re like very careful about that here.” The kid shrugged—either she didn’t understand or didn’t care. She’d better care. It was important.
“Okay. Here’s how we’re gonna work this. I’ll untie your hands and take you to the bathroom. You go in there and like do your business; then knock when you want to come out. Got it?” Another nod.
“Okay, then.” Poppy began untying the cords around her wrists.
Bathroom detail was usually Paulie’s job, mainly because up till now all their packages had been totally guys. She’d never like actually done this, but she knew the procedure. Paulie had a handcuff routine he used with the guys—in case they got any wise ideas. Poppy didn’t think that would be necessary now.
“Here’s how this works, Katie. Your blindfold comes off only in the bathroom. Once you’re finished up in there, you put it back on and like knock on the door. I’ll let you out then. You understand? You never take the blindfold off unless we tell you to.”
“Why not?” Poppy was taken aback by the question. No one had ever asked that before. Of course, all the other packages knew the answer.
“Because I don’t want you to see my face.”
“I thought you were wearing a mask.” What is she? Poppy thought. A lawyer?
“I am. But I don’t want you to see that, either.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because I don’t, that’s why,” Poppy said as she undid the last knot. “There. Now you can sit up.” She grabbed the kid’s shoulders and pulled her up. Through the fabric of her blazer and her uniform. Poppy could feel her bony little body trembling.
And she remembered feeling just like that at times when some guy she’d been with suddenly turned mean and began beating on her. She remembered that trapped, terrified feeling, with nobody to turn to for help. Probably the worst feeling in the world… and probably just what this kid was feeling.
She had a sudden urge to wrap her arms around Katie, to hug her close and absorb those tremors. No way. Keep her totally at arm’s length. No telling what a scared kid might try.
But a little reassurance couldn’t hurt.
“Don’t be scared, Katie. You’ll be fine. Think of this as a little vacation with some like really weird relatives.” Yeah, Poppy thought: an Appleton vacation. She shuddered. “And after it’s over, you’ll be going home.”
“I wanna go home now.”
“Not now. But soon, okay?” An unhappy nod, then, “What’s your name?” Another question that caught her by surprise. No package she’d baby-sat before had asked that. But she had an answer.
“Jane,” Poppy said. “Jane Doe. And I’m here with my husband John Doe.” She and Paulie always called each other Jane and John when they were baby-sitting a package. “You can call me Jane, okay?”
A nod. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, let’s get you to that bathroom. Stand up and I’ll be behind you with my hands on your shoulders. I’ll steer you right to it. Remember: Go inside, do your business, and knock when you’re ready to come out.” Poppy guided the kid to the john and closed her in.
“And remember,” she said through the door. “Have that blindfold on when I let you out. Got it?”
On the far side of the door she heard the kid start to cry again. “I want my daddy!”
“Don’t worry, Katie. You’ll get your daddy. You just have to be patient.” Shit, this was a rotten thing to do to a kid.
And how come she never asked for her mommy?
25
Snake situated himself in front of a Dataphone 2000 in the lobby of the Hyatt this time. He had the instructions for getting the package’s medicine all typed out and ready to upload from his Thinkpad. But when he logged onto Eric Garter’s IDT account he was startled to find e-mail waiting. Only one person that could be from.
He didn’t like this. The way it was supposed to run was Snake telling Vanduyne what the situation was and Vanduyne acknowledging it; then Snake telling Vanduyne what to do, and Vanduyne agreeing, and so forth: Snake, Vanduyne… Snake, Vanduyne—none of this ad lib bullshit with Vanduyne dropping him a line whenever he felt like it.
Who does this guy think he is? He speaks when he’s spoken to and that’s that.
Snake glanced around. Checking the new e-mail was going to increase his time of exposure here, and that meant more chances of something going wrong. But no one seemed to be paying any attention to him. Quickly he downloaded the message. He angled his Thinkpad’s screen away from the lobby and called up the file.
Sure enough, Vanduyne had sent another message, now forwarded by the remailer. And it was an ultimatum! A fucking ultimatum! Where did this guy get his balls?
Snake reined in his fury. Hell, the guy was just doing what anybody would do: making sure Snake really had the goods he said he was holding.
I’ve got the goods, pal; And try to imagine how little I care if she likes Lucky Charms or whatever. I’m in charge. Get used to that. And get used to something else real quick: There’s no way in hell you’re going to talk to her.
What’s this guy thinking? I’m going to drag a blindfolded kid out to a safe pay phone for a little chat with her daddy? Right.
He popped his own message onto the screen and added a couple of lines to the end; then he uploaded it to e-mail and sent it off into the Internet.
He disconnected and hurried for the exit. He was getting a bad feeling about this gig. First the epilepsy foul up, and now the snatch wasn’t a day old and already this Vanduyne was becoming a royal pain in the ass.
Any more trouble and Snake would have to send the doc a persuader.
26
Finally!
John had been sneaking in and out of the study all day, avoiding Nana, checking his e-mail, riding a roller coaster from hell as he downloaded one message after another, only to find each one was routine HHS business.
Why wasn’t Snake answering? He had to get Katie her Tegretol—before tonight.
But now his heart began pounding as he saw anon.nonet.uk in the heading… the anonymous remailer. All the moisture left his mouth and collected in his palms as he began reading.