hell to pay over there, but that doesn’t help us.”
“Time,” Adam said. “It’s what he hasn’t given us.”
Thomas nodded, then paused another moment and looked over
at his daughter. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
She gave him a smile filled with rage and said, “Yes. Lock and
load.”
Chapter 26
It was hot that day in Maine, even by the water. Lobster boats
bobbed up and down in the inlets, fishermen, their hats pushed
back on their heads, lay in the shade of the awnings on their boats,
if they were lucky enough to have awnings.
The white spires of the Riptide churches shone beneath the
bright afternoon sun. There wasn’t much movement anywhere. It
was just too hot. The tourists weren’t wandering around taking
photos of the quaint Maine town, they were holed up in air-conditioned
pubs.
The hot weather didn’t bother the birds. Osprey dove for fish off
the spruce-covered points. Gulls squawked and whirled over the
lobster boats. The smell of dead fish left too long in the heat sent
out odors that meant you had to take shallow breaths to survive.
Cumulus clouds in fantastic shapes dotted the steel-blue sky. There
was no breeze at all. Still, hot air blanketed the land.
Becca was so scared that all the beauty of the land and ocean, the
sound of the birds, the incredible blue of the sky–none of it penetrated
her brain. She felt frozen in the near hundred-degree heat.
She’d driven herself in a rented white Toyota from a private airfield
near Camden. It had taken her nearly an hour to negotiate the
tourist traffic on Highway 1 south to Riptide, just below Rock-land.
Her hands were clammy, her heart slowly thudding in her
chest. She tried to think of all that could go wrong, but her mind
just wouldn’t slip into gear.
When a mosquito bit her as she was pumping gas, she was
pleased that she felt it. She wasn’t even aware of being pissed off
that the rental agency hadn’t filled her car before renting it to her.
When she arrived in Riptide at three o’clock in the afternoon,
she drove directly to Tyler’s house on Gum Shoe Lane. He was
standing in the yard, waiting for her. He was quite alone.
Tyler held her very close, as if she were a lifeline, and so she
stood there, his arms locked tightly around her. Finally, she eased
back and looked up at him. “Any word at all?”
“Another note from Krimakov.”
“Let me see it.”
“This is all a huge mess, Becca.”
“Yes, I know, and I’m so sorry for it, Tyler. It’s all my fault. If I
could go back into the past, make the decision not to come here,
I swear I would. I’m so sorry. I swear that Sam will be all right. I
swear it to you.”
He looked at her for a very long time, but he didn’t say anything,
to either agree or disagree.
“Show me the new note. Then I’ll take both of them with me,
okay?”
The note was handwritten, big strokes, black ballpoint: The boy
will be all right for another eight hours. If Rebecca isn’t here, he’s dead.
She folded both notes, put them in the pocket of her sundress,
and left for Jacob Marley’s house twenty minutes later. Undoubtedly
Krimakov was watching Tyler’s house, at least he should be. She
would call in another half hour just in case Krimakov hadn’t been
watching. For sure he’d have a trace on Tyler’s phone.
She unlocked the front door of Jacob Marley’s house. It was so
still and hot inside, so very silent, nothing moving at all, not a single
sound, not even a floorboard. She opened all the windows and
switched on the overhead fans. The hot air stirred, nothing more,
until fresh air began creeping in. The curtains billowed ever so
slightly.
So quiet. It was so very quiet in the house. She went into the
kitchen and put on water to boil. She’d make iced tea, there were
still bags in the cabinet. She opened the refrigerator, saw that it had
been cleaned out, and wondered who had done it. Probably Rachel