In the House On Lakeside Drive (23 page)

Chapter 33

“That's a dangerous game you're playing, lad,” Frank said as Evan hung up the phone. “There's no guarantee this fellow won't kill you before you ever lay eyes on those boys.”

Evan looked out at the small throng of people beginning to assemble at the Parker house. The hospital had allowed him to discharge himself against medical advice, throwing his doctor into a fit of apoplexy. Frank, Jesse, Eric, and Rachel tried in vain to convince him that following the wishes of the kids' abductors was not only a bad idea but a suicidal one. At the nearby kitchen table, Mark and Penny Long sat with Sam's brother and sister, their eyes pleading for some kind of explanation.

“Whatever it takes, I'll do it.” Evan shook his head, looking at the families of his tenants. “This is all my fault,” he said to them. “They never would have been taken if…”

“How is this your fault, Evan?” Mark Long asked. The gray in his beard was beginning to show, and his round glasses framed two bright blue eyes. “This man was supposed to be in prison.”

“How did you know that?”

“The police talked to us,” Sam's sister Leslie said. “They explained that someone with a grudge against you had taken Sam and the others. They didn't get into why, though.”

Evan took an empty seat. “I knew about a robbery attempt when I was in college. I managed to let the place know what was going on and the would-be robbers were caught. One of them had been a friend from grade school, and he wasn't used to hearing the word ‘no.' And Mark's right—he was supposed to be in prison.” The young man looked at Frank. “What happened there?”

“Well, no one's entirely sure, but it looks like he managed to get paroled early due to overcrowding. No real behavior problems, model prisoner.”

“He did know how to turn on the charm when it suited,” Evan remembered.

“Do you think he'll hurt the boys?” Penny Long asked. The woman hadn't slept since she'd found out nearly three days ago that Josh was missing.

Evan shrugged. “Dayton—that's his name, Dayton Spaulding—he's more of an ‘I'-centric kind of guy. If the kids become baggage, he might. But he won't as long as they're useful to him. Right now, they're useful to him.”

“Because you'll go to him?”

A blond head nodded. “Whatever it takes. The biggest mistake I made was running from all of this. I should have ended it in Carolina.”

“I, for one, am glad you came here,” Sam's brother Loren said. “Every time Sam calls I can hear how much you've done. I remember this kid that could get around but was real shy, didn't like socializing much. And now look at him.” The tall man smiled. Evan noticed the slight similarities between this man and his tenant. “He's turned out so well.”

“Josh too. He loves living there. Can't wait to tell us all about something he learned from you or Remy or Sam,” Penny added, wiping away a tear. “He's such a handful, I know, but we've never regretted taking him in.”

The word choice puzzled Evan. “Taking him in?”

“We adopted Josh when he was five. His birth mother was ruled unfit, and with no father in the picture, he would've fallen through the system. I was a social worker before he came along, which is how we got him. His diagnoses came six months afterward, and for certain he'd have never found a home after that.” Penny's face was wet now, and Rachel's was as well. “Once we found out we couldn't have our own kids, we just decided to make Josh ours.”

“I…I didn't know.”

“It doesn't matter. Josh is our son.”

“Excuse me,” Rachel said, her throat filled with emotion. She hurried out of the room, and Evan almost ran after her.

“Let her go,” Penny said. “Give her a minute.”

“Still, these kids shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes.” Evan glared at the phone. “It's been nearly an hour,” he said. “Why hasn't he called?”

“Give it time,” Officer Baker called from the kitchen. “We still need to finish hooking up the trace equipment.”

“Better hurry. You've got ten minutes.”

The air in the old house was thick with anxiety and anticipation. “Please, God, let them call,” Leslie said, gripping her younger brother's hand with worry over their youngest sibling's fate.

A blaring, nerve-wracking chirp bleated from Evan's phone. Jesse rolled his fingers as a sign to let the phone ring, and after the third ring he motioned for Evan to pick it up. “Yeah?” he snapped into the line. “I want proof.”

“E-Evan?” The sound of Sam's voice rang through the line, and Evan immediately put the device on speaker. “Evan, are you there?”

“Sam!” Leslie cried.

“Sam, are you okay?” Loren asked, nearly cutting his sister off.

“We…we're okay. For…for now. Evan, what's…?”

“It's okay, Sam. You let Remy and Josh know I'm coming for you, all right?”

“Well, well. Touching, Liam.” The sharp Southern voice on the phone put everyone in the room on edge.

“I'll go,” Evan said. “Whatever you want. Just let them go.”

“We'll talk about it. Same place I said earlier. And Liam? I need cash. About ten thousand should do nicely. Get it together and be ready by nightfall. Remember, be alone, or your pretty lady gets a call of her own.” The line went dead.

“He's…he's all right,” Loren said, clutching his sister's hand. “Sam's okay.”

Evan looked at the Longs. “Josh is too, I'm sure of it. Remy's more than likely watching out for both of them.” Then he looked at Frank. “It's just about three,” he said. “How long would it take to get ten thousand dollars together?”

“Three hours, at least. Why?”

“Then I need to go to the bank. I'm sure I've got about half of the amount, but the other half…”

“Take mine,” Rachel said, coming into the room. Her eyes were red, her face tear-stained, but she was composed. “I've got about three.”

“We'll cover it,” Leslie said. “Sam's dad can cough up something to help.” The young woman placed her phone to her ear. “Yeah, it's Leslie. Tell him that Sam needs ten grand, by four o'clock today. Have him call me if he's got a problem. And Delia? It
has
to be by four o'clock today. He waits, he'll have more than a scandal on his hands.” There was a pause. “Thanks. Bye.”

“I wouldn't want to cross you, lass,” Frank said.

“Neither did my birth father, the idiot. I'm better off. I just wish my stepdad saw his own son the way he sees me and Loren.”

“We are all just a barrel of secrets, aren't we?”

Evan smiled a sad smile. “We are indeed.”

Chapter 34

“There now, you see? That wasn't so hard.” Thick hands slammed into Sam's bruised shoulder, and it was all he could do not to wince in pain. He stumbled a little, the force of the slap too much for him to compensate for.

“Didn't think a blind man could see,” another voice, this one gruff and commanding, chortled. The smell of beer and liquor filled the space where Sam stood, and it was enough to make him nauseous.

“Least he's not armed,” a third voice piped up, this one belonging to a black man. Sam knew there were different tones in certain ethnic backgrounds that couldn't be overcome, and it was helpful to him in figuring out what a person might look like. The nineteen-year-old had been blind since birth, so colors were an abstract to him, but he could pick out a tone of voice almost instantly. “Not gonna give us trouble, are you now? I seen you, waving that white stick of yours.”

The young man stayed silent. “Asked you a question,” the black man said, grabbing his arm roughly and pulling Sam out of balance. He tried reaching for something to break his fall, but the grip on his arm held his bound limbs in place. “Not gonna try anything fancy, right?”

“N-no, sir,” Sam replied, his voice barely a whisper. The space exploded in loud, drunken laughter. His stomach turned a little, and he could feel his nerves tense. “Please, j-just leave me alone…”

“Leave you alone? No, I don't think so,” another voice called out, the one with the thick Southern accent. “My old friend seems to have taken a liking to you, God knows why, and I'd like to see the attraction.”

Oh, God,
Sam thought.
Please don't let him…

“My associates say you can get around pretty well, for being blind as a bat.” The Southerner chuckled at his own joke. “I'd like to see that.”

Sam's mind raced as he quickly tried to get a feel for the space's layout. There were people everywhere, making too much noise to properly use his echolocation skills, and his cane had been deliberately left behind during his abduction. He
clicked
his tongue a couple of times, hoping the sound would bounce off of something, but to no avail. There were loud chortles and snickers as he did. “The hell was that?” another voice said, this one he suspected belonged to another black man but was deeper than the first.

Sam switched tactics, and tried to gain a feel for the pressure in the room. He knew through his mobility training that everything around him caused a change in air pressure—walls, people, furniture, even doorways—and he focused on that to figure a way through the maze of bodies and scattered objects inside the space. Hesitantly, he put a foot forward, and then another. Soon he had made a little headway, sneaking in a tongue
click
when he could to gauge where the nearest door was. The pressure felt lightest toward the left, and he could feel a slight warmth coming from that direction that he associated with the sun.
If I can just make it toward the window, or the door, maybe someone will see me or I can break it open…

“Ah, ah, ah,” one of the deeper voices chided, pulling Sam backward from his intended destination. “That's far enough.” To his companions, the man said, “Damn. Guess he
can
get around.”

“Too well,” the Southerner said. “Sure you're blind, boy?”

Sam turned his clouded eyes toward the man. “What do you think?” he snapped, his fear dissolving into irritation.

There was a loud
click
behind him, a metallic one. “Watch your tongue, boy. Would hate for you to lose it.” The threat made Sam's mouth snap shut and he swallowed thickly.

“All right, enough,” another voice said. This one put chills down Sam's spine. “Put him back with the other brats.”

“Fine.” The gruff voice Sam had encountered sidled up next to him, grabbing his right arm in a lock. “Come on, boy. Move.”

Sam nearly fell as he was dragged through the upstairs space and shoved forcibly down the stairs, his bound hands reaching out just in time to catch the rickety banister by chance. Above him, the gruff voice chuckled. “You'd think you'd get around even better in the dark, boy,” it said, laughing. “Don't trip.”

“Asshole,” he mumbled, gingerly feeling his way down the rest of the stairs.

“What was that?” The sinister voice grew very dark, very fast.

“N-nothing.”

Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Sam tried to get down them as fast as he dared, but he hadn't been able to count the stairs on the trip through the door. A hand grabbed his arm and jerked him around in a half circle, so that his face was toward his attacker. “I said, what was that?”

“It was me.” Remy's voice called out from behind him. “I called you an asshole.”

The thick hands shoved Sam to one side. “Travis!” the man bellowed.

“What?”

“Watch that door. I'm gonna teach these brats a lesson in manners.”

“No!” Sam screamed. “Remy, watch out!”

Softer footsteps echoed against the cement floor, racing in places, looking for a place to hide. Sam inched his way down the stairs, feeling his way until he reached the hard bottom. A cry took over the space, and the sound of blows punctuated the air. A few grunts and a scream followed. “Remy!” Sam followed the sound of the noise and held his bound limbs like a baseball bat, swinging wildly. “Get off him!” Sam yelled, delivering blow after blow. Thick hands grabbed his arms and pulled them away from the massive mountain of flesh that Sam was hitting. A blow to his good shoulder and his chest sent Sam sprawling to the floor. Nearby, the sounds of soft whimpers floated from what Remy and Josh called the dark corner of the little space, and Sam prayed that Josh stayed hidden there.

“Fuckin' brats,” the man spat. “I'll show you who's boss 'round here.” With that, thundering footsteps rose toward the exit and the irate man slammed the door behind him, the crossbar locking in place.

“Ow,” Sam said, slowly catching his breath. He tried to get up, but the pain in his shoulder prevented him from pushing too hard against it. “Remy?” he called out. “Are…are you all right?”

Silence greeted him. “J-Josh?” Sam called out.

“Uh…uh-huh?”

Sam took a deep breath. “Josh, listen to me. I need you to go over and check on Remy, okay?”