Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(92)

“Sometimes, I’m not so sure,” is her cryptic reply.

Startled, Garvey looks up to find her with her arms folded, staring at the doors. They glide open before he can ask her what she meant by that comment. Marin and Garvey are immediately overtaken by the security detail accompanying them to the luncheon.

The question will have to wait.



Barreling north on I–684, Lauren is careful to keep the speedometer less than ten miles over the limit. This road is notorious for speed traps, and getting stopped by the cops will cost precious time.

Please, please, please… Please, God, don’t let anything happen to my babies.

Fighting off hysteria, she drives with her cell phone in hand, dialing Sam every couple of minutes.

His phone keeps going straight to voice mail. The outgoing message is automated.

“The person you are trying to reach is not available. Please leave a message.”

What if she has the wrong number? But it can’t be. She reached him the first time, and she’s been hitting redial.

The first few times, she left frantic messages.

Now she doesn’t bother, just hangs up, waits as long as she can stand to wait, and tries again.

Why isn’t he answering?

What if…?

No. She can’t bear the thought and so she pushes it away, focusing on the road ahead. The landmarks are familiar. Just a few more miles.

She’s going to make it on time.

She tries Sam again.

“The person you are trying to reach—”

Where, where, where is Sam?

Please, please, please…

Her mantra beats in time with the windshield wipers.

What does this person want from her?

Ransom?

It makes no sense. Why her? Anyone who’s seen the Queen Anne Victorian on Elm Street would know that it doesn’t hold a candle to many of the other homes in town. There are mansions right around the corner; vast estates a stone’s throw away. Why would anyone target the Walshes for financial gain?

Dear God. What if they want a million bucks in exchange for the kids? Two million?

Lauren can’t get her hands on that kind of money. Can Nick?

Nick.

Anyone could have sent her that text message asking her to meet him at his apartment. Anyone with access to his phone.

Why didn’t I realize that before now?

I’m such a fool.

Maybe he lost his phone. Maybe he was mugged. Or his apartment was robbed.

But who would steal a cell phone and leave Louis Vuitton luggage behind?

Someone who wanted to use it to trick me.

Where are Nick and Beth, though? Clearly, they’re not still on Martha’s Vineyard.

If Nick was robbed and his phone stolen, he’d have canceled the service immediately.

If he was aware of it.

Having reached the exit for Glenhaven Park, Lauren forces herself to decelerate along the ramp when her instinct is to pick up speed and barrel toward home.

Stay calm. Almost there.

This—today—was a setup. Someone used Nick’s phone to get Lauren out of the way.

Tears stream down her face, her body quakes with sobs.

Did something happen to Nick?

On the heels of that unwanted thought, the other one—the darkest thought of all—barges into her brain at last: Are my children dead?

Bile rises in Lauren’s throat.

Lucy.

Ryan.

Sadie.

Please, please, please…





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN




Sadie wore a blindfold once before, when she played pi?ata at someone’s birthday party. She didn’t like it then, even though there was candy involved.

She really doesn’t like it now. Her hair is pinched in the fabric knot at the back of her head. But when she fussed, Ryan and Lucy told her to be quiet and wear it. They all have them on.

The three of them are crouched down in back of a car that’s been driving for a long, long time. It was a smooth, fast ride at first, and Sadie could hear other trucks and cars around them. But then they started making turns, and the drive got slower, and a lot bumpier.

Every so often, she hears a harsh “Keep your head down” from the front seat, and she wonders if Lucy or Ryan is trying to peek out and see where they’re going.

They’re both crying. Not loudly, but Sadie can hear them sniffling, and she can feel their bodies shaking. She’s seen Lucy cry before, a few times, but not Ryan. It scares her.

“I want Mommy,” she says in a small voice.

Someone—she’s not sure who—pats her shoulder and shushes her. It makes her feel better. She can’t see them, but at least she’s not alone. Her big brother and sister won’t let anything bad happen to her.

Finally, the car comes to a stop. The engine cuts, and it’s quiet. The driver’s door opens.

There are birds singing, Sadie realizes. She can smell the rain and hear it dripping, like it does from the trees after a storm.

The back door opens. “Come on. Get out. You first.”

“Please, no…please, we want to stay together,” Lucy protests. Her voice sounds funny. High-pitched.

“You will be together, trust me. And Ryan and Sadie, if you two try to escape while we’re gone, I’ll shoot your sister in the head.”