truck quickly behind. She looked down at her tiny companion of the last
few days. What did she have to lose? She quickly headed toward town.
She had to get to the arranged drop-off spot as early as possible. But
first she needed something from the grocery store.
The diner Sidney had mentioned in her telephone conversation was filled
with hungry patrons. Two blocks over from the prearranged drop-off
spot, the Cadillac, lights out, was parked at the curb next to the
impressive bulk of an evergreen surrounded by a calf-high wrought-iron
fence. The interior of the Cadillac was dark, the silhouette of the
driver barely visible.
Two men walked quickly along the sidewalk, while another pair across the
street paralleled their movements. One of the men looked down at a
small instrument clutched in his hands; the small amber screen had a
grid stamped on it. A red light burned brightly on the screen, pointing
directly at the Cadillac. The men quickly moved in.
One weapon flashed through where the passenger-side window had once
been. At the same instant the driver’s-side door was torn open.
The gunmen looked in astonishment at the driver: a mop with a leather
jacket over it, a baseball cap perched rakishly on top.
The white van was parked at the intersection of Chaplain and Merchant,
its motor running. The driver checked his watch, scanned the street and
then hit his headlights twice. In the back of the van, Bill Patterson
lay on the floor, his feet and hands tied securely, his mouth taped
shut. The driver jerked his head around as the passenger-side door was
thrown open and a 9mm pistol was pointed at his head. Sidney climbed in
the van. She cocked her head toward the back to make sure her father
was okay. She had already seen him through the back window when she had
spotted the van a minute earlier. She figured they had to be prepared
to actually hand her father over. “Put your gun down on the floorboard.
Take it out muzzle first. If your finger goes anywhere near the
trigger, I will empty my entire clip into your head. Do it!”
The driver quickly did as he was told.
“Now get out!”
“What?”
She shoved the pistol into his neck, where it pushed painfully against a
throbbing vein. “Get out!”
When he opened the door and turned his back to her, Sidney swung her
legs up on the seat, coiled them back and kicked him with all her might.
He sprawled on the pavement. She closed the door, jumped into the
driver’s seat and hit the gas. The van’s tires turned the white snow
black and then it rocketed off.
Ten minutes outside of town, Sidney stopped the van, jumped into the
back and untied her father. The two sat for several minutes holding on
to each other, their bodies quivering with a heavy mixture of fear and
relief.
“We need to get another car to drive. I wouldn’t put it past them to
have bugged this one. And they’ll be on the lookout for the van,”
Sidney said as they hurtled down the road.
“There’s a rental place about five minutes away. But why don’t we just
go to the cops, Sid?” Her father rubbed his wrists. His swollen eyes
and cracked knuckles testified to the struggle the old man had put up.
She breathed deeply and looked over at him. “Dad, I don’t know what’s
on the disk. If it’s not enough…”
Her father looked at her, the realization sinking in that he might lose
his little girl after all.
“It will be enough, Sidney. If Jason took all the trouble to send it to
you, it has to be enough.”
She smiled at him and then her face went dark. “We have to split up,
Dad.”
“There’s no way I’m leaving you now.”
“Your being with me makes you an accessory. I’ll tell you one thing:
We’re not both going to jail.”
“I don’t give a damn about that.”
“Okay, then what about Mom? What would happen to her? And Amy? Who
would be there for them?”
Patterson started to say something and then stopped. He frowned as he