"1 was wondering when you were going to talk," Mr. Smith said, keeping his eyes on the road. "1 could tell when you woke up; your breathing changed. How do you feel?"
"My head hurts," she said, saying the first thing that came to her mind. She decided that the best way to approach her predicament was to be calm and controlled. To let her rage take over was to invite more trouble from Mr. Smith. If she turned combative again, he might see fit to pull over and gag her again. Or knock her out.
Oh my God, did him knocking me out with that stuff was it chloroform? — did that hurt the baby?
"If you promise to behave and not cause a scene, I'll give you some water and aspirin at the next rest stop. How's that sound?"
Okay.
He drove silently for a while and Lisa debated whether or not to ask where he was taking her again when he answered her question. "As to where we're going, I'm taking you to a cabin near Big Bear. In fact, if you want, I can pick up some food for you at the next rest stop and whip something up for you once we get there. You must be hungry."
She was starving. "I could eat something," she said. Her mind was racing: Be calm, don't do anything to set him off If he was going to kill you, he would have done it by now.
And on the heels of that: Why is he taking me to this cabin?
She wondered if she should tell him she was pregnant. She had heard from would-be rape victims that telling your attacker that you were pregnant was a possible deterrent. Would it work with Mr. Smith? She was just about to mention it when he started talking. "I don't want to hurt you," he said, eyes on the road. "In fact, if I didn't need the money I wouldn't be doing this. That whole scenario that happened back along the interstate? Like I said, that was just to separate you from your husband. My name's really not Mr. Smith, and this van isn't even registered to me. Nobody will know what happened to you. I cleaned up at the motel, wiped everything down, even used gloves after I knocked you out. I took your luggage and your purse-they're in the back with you somewhere. I left your car at the motel because that will be the first thing they look for, and a stolen car is easy to trace. This is going to work out." It sounded like he was saying this aloud to reassure himself that what he had planned was going to work, rather than attempting to explain to her his intentions.
He's going to rape and kill me, she thought, a sudden lump rising in her throat. That's why he's taking me to this cabin. That's why he didn't take my car. When he's done, hell bury me somewhere in the woods and nobody will know. Nobody will ever find out.
And on the heels of that: But if he was going to rape me, why did he say that he wouldn't be doing this if he didn't need the money? Is he kidnapping me for some kind of ransom?
"I'm pregnant," she said, not really knowing if this revelation would be an influence. It wasn't; Mr. Smith laughed.
"If you think that's going to get you out of this, you're a bigger fool than I thought. But I admire you for trying anyway. I know what it must feel like."
"You have no idea how I feel. And I'm not lying about being pregnant, either."
"You don't look pregnant."
"I just found out early this morning."
"Really?" He paused for a moment. "Have you told hubby yet?"
She didn't know what to say. "No," she said in a whispering tone.
"But you were gonna tell him, weren't you? This weekend?"
Lisa felt the anger and hate come boiling back. She could picture his cold gray eyes watching her in the rearview mirror. "Maybe I was. What is it to you, anyway?"
"Just that I want to know what I'm dealing with. I can understand now why you were so feisty back there at the motel. Your maternal instinct kicked in. You weren't just thinking about saving your own skin, you were thinking about the unborn baby in your womb. Weren't you?"
'flying to push the anger down, she nodded. "I guess you could say that."
Mr. Smith sounded like he was considering this. "If what you're saying is true, then they might actually like this."
Those words had a chilling affect on Lisa. She felt a pit of ice creep into her belly. "What do you mean? Who are they?'
"Later," he said, dismissively. The rest stop is coming up and I'll be pulling over. Remember. One peep out of you and you are one dead bitch. Got that?"
She had been forced to remain silent, struggling silently with her tears as he gagged her, then exited the van. The few minutes he spent in the AM/PM mini-market felt like hours, all the while safety and freedom only a shout away as other travelers pulled up beside them and people walked past the van to the convenience store. She had tried maneuvering around in back of the van in a vain attempt to see if she could chance opening the door and making a run (or a stumble) for it, but she was bound so tight that she could barely move. If she screamed, there might not even be a chance she would be heard. She would have no way of knowing where Mr. Smith was because she wouldn't see him until he opened the front driver's-side door of the van, and he would surely know she had been screaming for help. She believed he really would try to hurt or kill her. And she couldn't do anything that would jeopardize herself or the baby. She had to wait until she saw a better chance to escape and then take it.
When he came back, he had a bottle of Evian water and some Anacin. He crawled in the back and helped her sit up. Then he popped two Anacins in her mouth and held the bottle up for her to drink. She thanked him, and he managed a faint smile. "Got some ready-made sandwiches for you, too. You'll eat one when we get to the cabin."
He kept his promise. They had arrived at the cabin a little under an hour later, and he got her into the bedroom through a side door. She could tell they were in the mountains by the brief scent of pine and the brisk, cool air as he ushered her through the door. Ten minutes later, he took the blindfold off and he was patiently feeding her as she sat up on the narrow bed, holding the Evian bottle up for her to drink. When she was finished, he instructed her to lie down on the bed, and then she felt him struggle with the knots he had used to tie her up. "You'll feel some of these loosen up, but don't move or try to do anything. You try anything, I've got a hammer right here that III use to smash your skull." She had lain down, fighting the tears as he practically untied her. Then he quickly peeled off her clothes, then told her to turn over. When she turned over, she saw that he indeed had a hammer. She was almost tempted to try rushing him again; she could surprise him, try to claw out his eyes or something, but he had that hammer, and he was holding it in his right fist, ready to swing. She couldn't risk it. He told her to lie down on her back, and then he slipped the rope he had tied around her arms down to her wrist and tightened it with one swift tug. He had her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts within a minute, and then he stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. "You'll be fine for the night. If you gotta piss, go ahead and piss on the mattress. I'll be up in the morning to change it and bring some other things."
"What are you going to do?" Lisa was sobbing, and now her emotions did gain the upper hand. All she could think about was how this man was destroying all her hopes of having a baby with Brad, a dream she had been working to achieve for the past two years. All she could think about was saving herself so that her baby might live. "You sonofabitch, why are you doing this!"
"1 told you," Mr. Smith said calmly, a look of indifference on his bearded face. "It's nothing personal. I need the money, okay? I'm not going to hurt you."
"I don't understand!" she wailed, trying to sit up in the bed. "Please let me go! I swear I won't say anything. I won't tell anybody-"
"It's too late for that now," Mr. Smith said, looking down at Lisa calmly. "Look, it's nothing personal. The people I'm working for… well, the dients they're working for, they wanted somebody just like you. They were getting tired of using runaways, drug addicts, and vagrants, the kind of girls they had been using all along. They wanted somebody who has a clean, wholesome image. Somebody who actually has a life. It took me two days to find you." He grinned down at her.