44: Book Three Read online

“You will have that opportunity, I assure you. But not yet.”

  I sighed heavily.

  “I need you, Abby. You knew I was coming back for you. I said as much that night at Benjamin’s. Remember?”

  I forced myself to hold his stare, fighting the nausea.

  “Where are we?” I said.

  “We’re on a beautiful island in the Pacific Northwest. But I think you knew that. You don’t have to hide your intelligence from me. Not ever. I know who you are. Perhaps even better than you do.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Three days,” he said.

  “And what did you do to me in those three days?” I asked, my voice cracking and going higher than I would have liked. “I was in a lot of pain.”

  “I am sorry. That was unexpected. You had a bad reaction to the sedative. It won’t happen again.”

  I inhaled slowly and unevenly.

  “What did you do to me? I remember needles.”

  “We began our research. We are trying to determine how the serum I injected into you after you drowned is performing in your body, how it is interacting with your system. We were able to complete the first round of testing.”

  The hatred inside threatened to overpower my fear.

  “You’re a very sick man, Nathaniel.”

  He smiled, not at all affected by my words or the anger behind them.

  “Someday soon, you will come to appreciate all this,” he said. “I know it. I realize you need some time, and you will have it. We will leave you alone in these next few days. No tests, just time to relax and think about things.”

  I shook my head.

  “I need to call my sister.”

  “I will let you do that,” he said. “But not just yet. You need time to adjust. But I want you to know that if you need something please let either myself or the staff know. We are all here for the same purpose. And while I know you probably won’t believe me just yet, I want you to know that your comfort is a primary concern.”

  He walked past me, heading toward the door.

  “One more thing, Abby,” he said, stopping and turning back around. “I wish to invite you to dinner tonight. You must be hungry for something other than crackers. I would be honored if you accept. We can go over things. I can tell you all about our plans.”

  I looked out the window. The sunlight was getting weaker already. Somehow, I had lost another day.

  “Dinner?” I said.

  “Abigail,” he said. “My intentions are pure. And I am hoping that you will learn to trust me.”

  “Just let me go home. I want to go home.”

  His face was still, without expression.

  “Join me tonight,” he said. “I will make it worth your while. Dinner is at seven. You will find all the appropriate clothes in the closet and I’ll send someone up to escort you down to the dining room. I hope to see you later.”

  He then quickly walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 4

  Dinner with Nathaniel. I couldn’t think of anything worse.

  I held up my wrists and looked at them. They were still a little tender and there was some bruising from where I had been tied down in the back seat of Jack’s truck. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t as intense as I remembered in the dreams.

  I breathed in, trying to go slow, holding each breath and then releasing it as I forced my legs over the edge of the bed. I was sore and stiff, but I wanted to get up and walk around, wanted to see where I was. I took a few steps, shuffling up to the window, and looked outside.

  We were right on the water and there was a small beach down below with a short dock nearby. Pine trees swayed in the wind and large black rocks dotted the shore. A translucent, misty fog was rolling in. There was an island off in the distance, but it looked like just a speck in the ocean.

  I sighed. That was clever. How would anyone ever find me in the middle of all this water?

  I moved slowly over to the desk and searched through the drawers. I found an iPod that was loaded with a lot of my favorite music. There were energy bars and small packages of almonds, the kind of snacks I usually took to soccer games. I opened the small refrigerator and saw that it was stocked with bottled water, sports drinks, and Cokes.

  I went into the bathroom. There were stacks of thick towels next to a huge soaker tub that was surrounded by candles. A bathrobe was hanging on the back of the door. Various scented soaps, lotions, and shampoos lined the sink and tub.

  After I washed my face, I noticed a small dark mark on the inside of my right arm. It still hurt. A bump was in the center of a small bruise. I wondered about the tests they had done on me.

  In the cabinet under the flat screen was a large collection of movies, many which I used to watch late at night on Turner Classics. Robert Mitchum, William Holden, Orson Welles. All of my favorites.

  I went over to the closet and opened it. It was filled with clothes and shoes, all in my size, in brands that I usually wore. Jeans and shirts folded neatly on the shelves. Dresses and jackets hanging. Running shoes, river sandals, a pair of cleats still in the Nike box. In the dresser, there were even more clothes. T-shirts, pajamas, several Barcelona soccer sweatshirts, a Messi jersey.

  “Damn,” I whispered.

  Jack had been watching more than my soccer moves.

  I went over to the fire and stood for a minute, warming my hands and thinking. Then I sat back down on the edge of the bed.

  My throat was dry and it hurt to swallow. And I had that crazy thirst again, like I had been crawling through Death Valley in August.

  It was suddenly all too much and I rushed over to the toilet and threw up. It was mostly bile, but I felt better afterwards.

  I stepped into the shower. The cool water felt good. I would have liked to have lingered, but I didn’t trust being alone in the bathroom. I jumped out, toweled off, and put on the robe.

  As I ran the towel through my hair, I thought about Nathaniel. Why had he bothered setting up this bedroom like it was my room at home? It seemed like he was planning on keeping me here a long time. But even so, why hadn’t he just chained me in the basement and done his experiments? It just didn’t make sense.

  I wiped down the mirror and took a look at myself for the first time in a while.

  I didn’t look so great. My face looked thin and pale, with a few dark blotches splattered here and there. I put on a little makeup that I found in the drawer. I didn’t want to see that reflection every time I went in the bathroom.

  I stared at myself, wondering how all this had happened.

  It was nearly two years ago when I had drowned in a lake and had gone over to the other side. I was dead for 44 minutes.

  And since then, no matter how hard I tried, I hadn’t been able to put it behind me.

  It took me several months to recover, both physically and mentally. Some things returned slowly, others never did. It took a long time to get my legs working right. I still couldn’t see colors. And then there was Jesse. At first I thought he had survived the accident. I saw him and talked to him like he was there, like he was real. It was only much later that I realized that Jesse had died and that what I was seeing was a ghost.

  And then there were others. Like the ghost of a woman named Annabelle Harrison. I tried to help her, letting her family finally learn what had happened to her.

  I did my best to get on with my life. Working as a river guide during the summer. Playing soccer again. Dating Ty.

  But it didn’t matter what I did. There was a shadow running through my days, a shadow I didn’t always see. But it was there just the same.

  Something was always pulling me back, back into that world of death that Jesse and I had touched one wintery day driving back from the mountain.

  I knew now that I would never be able to leave it behind. That, in fact, it would always be there, waiting.

  Standing in the bathroom and looking at my face, I knew beyond all doubt that I would never
get away from the dark waters of that mountain lake.

  CHAPTER 5

  I resigned myself to the fact that even though Nathaniel had invited me to dinner, it wasn’t really an invitation. He was expecting me and was even sending one of his goons up to make sure that I would attend.

  There was nothing to do but go.

  I put in a movie and waited for someone to come and get me. About halfway through, I heard a faint knock on the door.

  “Miss Craig?” a soft voice said.

  I was glad it wasn’t Nathaniel and I opened the door slowly.

  A man with light hair and friendly eyes was standing in the hallway. He looked to be in his early 30s and greeted me with a smile. I watched the gray energy circle around him quickly and I knew that he was nervous.

  “I’m Simon,” he said. “I have been sent to escort you to dinner.”

  No matter how repulsive the idea of having dinner with Nathaniel was, I had decided to take advantage of the opportunity. I had to learn everything I could about where I was being held. Plus, maybe he would let something slip during dinner.

  “Thanks, but no need,” I said. My voice cracked as I tried to shake off my nerves. “If you just point me in the direction I’ll be fine.”

  “Well, that’s just it,” he said, turning and looking behind him. “It’s a rather large house and I fear that pointing it out won’t do. If you let me escort you, just this once, I’d be grateful. Actually, Dr. Mortimer insisted.”

  It was strange hearing him call Nathaniel Dr. Mortimer. I usually had a good association with that name.

  “Okay, I just need a minute.”

  “I’ll be right here,” he said.

  I closed the door over and thought about how ridiculous all the formality and politeness was. No one was going to let me wander around the house by myself, just like Nathaniel was not going to let me sit in the room and reject his invitation.

  I went to the bathroom and threw water on my face. I could do this, I told myself, looking in the mirror. I took in a deep breath and headed back over to Simon, hoping to find an escape route out of this place.

  “Well, okay,” I said.

  I closed the door behind me, although I knew it probably wouldn’t do any good. They seemed to come and go any time they pleased.

  I followed him down a long hallway to a railing and peeked over the edge as we walked alongside it. Down below was a large living room, with wood floors and rugs and expensive art. Huge glass windows made up most of the walls. Although it was dark again outside, I imagined it was an incredible view in the daylight.

  I saw the front door and made a mental note of where it was. Maybe in the morning I could make a run for it, find some neighbors, and get help.

  As we walked through the downstairs area, I tried to pay attention to everything. The house was big and there were many windows and quite a few doors. I looked for phones, but didn’t see any. The people here probably just stuck to cells. I didn’t see any computers or tablets or anything that could be useful to get a message to Kate.

  We walked down another long corridor before reaching the dining room. Simon had been right. It would have taken me a while to find it.

  My heart pounded in my chest when I walked in and saw Nathaniel seated at a long table. He stood up quickly as I approached.

  “Abby,” he said. “Nice of you to come.”

  I didn’t look at him directly. Simon pulled out the chair and as I sat down, he grabbed my napkin, flung it open, and handed it to me.

  I looked around. The table was made of cherry and was very ornate and situated in the center of the large room. Although there were eight chairs, the table was set for only two. Nathaniel was seated at the far end and I was at the other, with a lot of lit candles between us.

  Opera music played softly in the background.

  “Wine?” Simon asked me.

  “No,” Nathaniel said, interrupting. “Better not. It’s too soon for that.”

  He poured a glass for Nathaniel and handed it to him.

  “Thank you.”

  Simon placed the bottle on the table and left the room.

  I forced myself to look over at Nathaniel. He was dressed in a suit, and was sitting back in the chair, completely relaxed and quiet.

  “I don’t even drink wine,” I said. “So I guess you don’t know everything.”

  He picked up a carafe of water that was on the table and stood up. He walked toward me. He always seemed to have those moves, sudden and unexpected.

  “I know that you’re probably still pretty thirsty,” he said.

  He filled my glass, placing it back down in front of me and wandered back to his seat.

  I stared at the table. Everything looked very elegant and expensive. I fiddled with the napkin on my lap as I tried to gather my courage to look at him again.

  Simon returned and placed a bowl of soup in front of me, along with a small basket of French bread. Then he served Nathaniel.

  “Lobster bisque,” Simon said. “Bon appetite.”

  I leaned in and tasted some. It was good. I kept my eyes down as I ate, mopping up the last drops with a piece of bread.

  Nathaniel was quiet all through dinner. Over the next hour, we ate several courses, including dessert, in silence. Simon brought all the dishes out, announcing what each one was and how he had used fresh ingredients from the region. Lemon chicken with rosemary. A creamy potato gratin. Different slices of cheeses, paired with plum and fig jams, and then finally, a small slice of chocolate torte.

  The thought had crossed my mind that they were trying to fatten me up like some sort of Thanksgiving turkey. But I didn’t care. I had been starving and everything was delicious.

  Simon returned and started clearing the table.

  “Would you care for anything else, Abby?” Nathaniel asked.

  I shook my head.

  I had noticed that he hadn’t eaten much. Just a bite here, a bite there. Mostly he slowly drank his wine and watched me eat. I was grateful that he had been quiet all through dinner, but I knew I wouldn’t get off so easily the rest of the evening.

  “I’m glad to see you had the pleasure of eating a meal prepared by Simon. He really is quite the extraordinary chef.”

  Simon smiled slightly and then left the room.

  “And judging from your appetite, you must agree that the meal was excellent.”

  I still didn’t say anything. What he was saying was true, but I would have traded it all for a cardboard anchovy pizza at home.

  Nathaniel stood up and tossed his napkin on the table.

  “I didn’t see the need to have a conversation while we were eating, but there are some matters I wish to discuss with you. Would you please join me in the library? Not for too long, I promise.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  I followed him through the doorway and down a hall. When we reached the library, he stopped, wanting me to go first. But I wouldn’t. I didn’t trust him behind me, not for a second. He smiled before going in, seeming to know my thoughts.

  The room was mostly made up of windows. There was a huge fireplace, already lit and crackling.

  I looked around. It was a nice room, with chairs and sofas arranged into small conversation areas, along with tables and lamps and rugs. There were bookshelves filled with shiny-rimmed volumes that all matched.

  “Can I offer you a soda?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, wandering over to the books. Classics mostly.

  A crystal bar set was in the corner and Nathaniel poured himself a drink, and pushed a button on a remote. Violin music danced around the room and he sat down in one of two leather chairs that faced each other.

  “Please, Abby, sit,” he said, motioning to the opposite chair.

  I walked over and sat down.

  “I want to go home,” I said. “Do you know how worried my sister must be?”

  “I understand. You’ll have to trust me when I say you will be able to return. But you’re needed here
for now.”

  I looked over at the flames, thinking about Kate. Her torture must have been unimaginable. By now she probably put it together that it was Nathaniel who had kidnapped me. It must be killing her that she wasn’t able to protect me, that the security system and gun she had bought had done nothing to save me from him.

  He stood up and took off his jacket, folding it neatly and placing it over a chair.

  “If things go well in these next few days, I’ll let you speak to her,” he said.

  Would it really be that easy?

  “I’m not a heartless animal, Abby,” he said, smiling. “I realize that your sister is very important to you. It is not my intention to ruin your life. Quite the contrary. My intention is to give you the rich life you deserve. Full of everything you desire. You’re a very special girl and your happiness is very, very important to me.”

  I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but quickly reminded myself that Nathaniel, for all his well-tailored suits and advanced degrees, was insane. And these words he was saying to me, that he cared about my happiness, were the words of a deranged mind. It’s what psychopaths did in the movies, twisting events, telling their victims that the evil they did was all in the name of good.

  “I don’t believe you,” I said. “You don’t care about me. I wouldn’t be here if you cared about me. I’m here because you think I have something you want. And it doesn’t matter who gets hurt. It’s as simple as that. And the funny thing is that you’re wrong about all of it. You and your potion didn’t save me. Your brother did. He’s the hero, not you.”

  It was true. His brother was the one who saved me and I wanted to remind him of that fact.

  “Abby,” he said in an even voice. “I look forward to proving to you how mistaken you are in these coming days. I look forward to winning your trust. I am convinced you’ll come to share my vision. And it is my sincere hope that someday, someday soon, you’ll join me in creating a new world.”

  Share his vision? Join him in creating a new world? He was more far gone than I thought. There was no use arguing.

  He got up from the chair, sipped his drink, and walked slowly around the room.