a lot of money to gamble on something that might not pan out.’
‘What would Carol want you to do?’
‘I didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with the vic,’ Banville said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
Darby heard the sting of the dial tone. She hung up the phone, her face burning. Her attention drifted back over to the man holding the rosary beads.
In a flash she saw herself at fourteen, rosary beads in hand, pacing the worn-out carpet, waiting for her mother to come out of ICU where she was talking to the surgeon. Her father was going to be okay. Big Red had been in plenty of tough spots before; he was going to pull through this. God always protected the good.
Now, at thirty-seven, she knew better.
Darby thought about her mother wasting away at home and felt a cold, empty space hanging inside her chest as she walked toward the elevators.
Chapter 16
Daniel Boyle rubbed the rosary beads between his fingers as he watched the crime scene investigator, the attractive redhead who had helped Rachel Swanson out from underneath the porch, disappear around the corner. He had changed seats when she picked up the pay phone. He had listened to most of her conversation and was relieved to hear the police had found the footwear impressions he had left on the kitchen floor.
Once the blood from the hallway was processed through their CODIS system, they would get a hit for Earl Slavick. The FBI was looking for Slavick in connection with a string of missing women that started in Colorado.
The FBI didn’t know Slavickwas now a resident of Lewiston, New Hampshire. When Boyle decided to lead the police to Slavick’s house, they would find a pair of Ryzer hiking boots, size eleven, in Slavick’s office closet, along with some other valuable evidence connecting him to the disappearances of several New England women.
What was troubling Boyle was this business about the writing found on Rachel’s arm. He had an ideawhat the numbers and letters meant, but it would be meaningless to the police unless Rachel woke up and started talking.
Boyle knew Rachel had already woken up once and attacked a nurse. If Rachel woke up again, if they could stabilize her long enough to pump her system with some antipsychotic medication, she might be able to tell the police about what had happened to her and the other women in the basement.
Boyle still couldn’t figure out how Rachel had escaped. The two pairs of handcuffs were good and tight, the ball gag still wedged securely in her mouth, when he left to get Carol. And Rachel was sick. She wasn’t going anywhere.
When he came back, the van’s back doors were open. The ball gag and handcuffs were lying on the floor.
Nobody had ever escaped before.
Boyle tightened his grip on the rosary beads. Once again, he had underestimated Rachel, forgot what a resourceful cunt she could be – which was, ironically, one of the things he absolutely loved about her. Rachel reminded him so much of his mother.
A little over two weeks ago, Rachel had faked being sick, refusing to eat for days, and when he went into her cell to check on her, she attacked him and broke his nose. He fell to the floor and she kicked him in the head until he passed out.
The keys she took from his pocket didn’t unlockthe padlock for the basement door. Those keys were in his office. And that was where he found her, tearing the place up, looking for his other set of keys, maybe even his cell phone. Maybe Rachel had found the spare set of handcuff keys. He hadn’t noticed they were missing. He was still cleaning up the mess she made.
He should have left Rachel inside her cell. He should have come to Belham alone, as originally planned, grabbed Carol and then, after he returned home – then he should have made a separate trip to bury Rachel.
Instead, he had been lured by the idea of burying Rachel next to his mother in the Belham woods around Salmon Brook Pond. He hadn’t been to his old burial ground in years – so
‘What would Carol want you to do?’
‘I didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with the vic,’ Banville said. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
Darby heard the sting of the dial tone. She hung up the phone, her face burning. Her attention drifted back over to the man holding the rosary beads.
In a flash she saw herself at fourteen, rosary beads in hand, pacing the worn-out carpet, waiting for her mother to come out of ICU where she was talking to the surgeon. Her father was going to be okay. Big Red had been in plenty of tough spots before; he was going to pull through this. God always protected the good.
Now, at thirty-seven, she knew better.
Darby thought about her mother wasting away at home and felt a cold, empty space hanging inside her chest as she walked toward the elevators.
Chapter 16
Daniel Boyle rubbed the rosary beads between his fingers as he watched the crime scene investigator, the attractive redhead who had helped Rachel Swanson out from underneath the porch, disappear around the corner. He had changed seats when she picked up the pay phone. He had listened to most of her conversation and was relieved to hear the police had found the footwear impressions he had left on the kitchen floor.
Once the blood from the hallway was processed through their CODIS system, they would get a hit for Earl Slavick. The FBI was looking for Slavick in connection with a string of missing women that started in Colorado.
The FBI didn’t know Slavickwas now a resident of Lewiston, New Hampshire. When Boyle decided to lead the police to Slavick’s house, they would find a pair of Ryzer hiking boots, size eleven, in Slavick’s office closet, along with some other valuable evidence connecting him to the disappearances of several New England women.
What was troubling Boyle was this business about the writing found on Rachel’s arm. He had an ideawhat the numbers and letters meant, but it would be meaningless to the police unless Rachel woke up and started talking.
Boyle knew Rachel had already woken up once and attacked a nurse. If Rachel woke up again, if they could stabilize her long enough to pump her system with some antipsychotic medication, she might be able to tell the police about what had happened to her and the other women in the basement.
Boyle still couldn’t figure out how Rachel had escaped. The two pairs of handcuffs were good and tight, the ball gag still wedged securely in her mouth, when he left to get Carol. And Rachel was sick. She wasn’t going anywhere.
When he came back, the van’s back doors were open. The ball gag and handcuffs were lying on the floor.
Nobody had ever escaped before.
Boyle tightened his grip on the rosary beads. Once again, he had underestimated Rachel, forgot what a resourceful cunt she could be – which was, ironically, one of the things he absolutely loved about her. Rachel reminded him so much of his mother.
A little over two weeks ago, Rachel had faked being sick, refusing to eat for days, and when he went into her cell to check on her, she attacked him and broke his nose. He fell to the floor and she kicked him in the head until he passed out.
The keys she took from his pocket didn’t unlockthe padlock for the basement door. Those keys were in his office. And that was where he found her, tearing the place up, looking for his other set of keys, maybe even his cell phone. Maybe Rachel had found the spare set of handcuff keys. He hadn’t noticed they were missing. He was still cleaning up the mess she made.
He should have left Rachel inside her cell. He should have come to Belham alone, as originally planned, grabbed Carol and then, after he returned home – then he should have made a separate trip to bury Rachel.
Instead, he had been lured by the idea of burying Rachel next to his mother in the Belham woods around Salmon Brook Pond. He hadn’t been to his old burial ground in years – so
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