The Chain(33)

“What do you mean?”

“You are required to deposit an additional twenty-five thousand dollars into the InfinityProjects account.”

“We already paid the ransom. It’s—”

“It’s been changed. Sometimes they change things. You need to pay another twenty-five thousand. Furthermore, you need to complete part two of the process today. Do you understand? If you don’t do these things today, I’m supposed to kill Kylie.”

“No, please! I’ve done everything you’ve said. I’m cooperating!”

“I know you are. They just messaged me. We have to do what they say, Rachel. Another twenty-five thousand by midnight and part two done by midnight. If you don’t do it, I have to kill Kylie. And if I don’t do that, they’ll kill my son, so I have to do it.”

“No, that’s crazy. We’re cooperating, we’re doing—”

“Do you understand what I’ve told you, Rachel?”

“Yes, I—”

The line goes dead.

Another twenty-five thousand today? How?

“Car coming!” Pete says, looking through the living-room window.

“It’s coming here?”

“It’s coming here,” Pete says. “Two occupants. A man and a woman. Parking next to my truck. What does Marty drive now?”

Rachel sprints to the kitchen window. The car is a white Mercedes; the man in the driver’s seat is Marty, and she’s sure that the woman next to him is Tammy. Rachel’s met Tammy only once, at one of the Kylie handovers, but Tammy is a leggy blonde with a cute bob haircut and Marty’s passenger certainly has the haircut.

“It is Marty!”

Pete runs to the kitchen window. “Jesus, you’re right. What is he doing here? I thought you said he was in Georgia.”

Rachel groans. “It’s Friday evening. He’s come to take Kylie for the weekend.”

“We’re on the clock here; we need to get rid of them.”

“I know!”

Marty waves to her through the window. Rachel remains standing, aghast, at the kitchen sink and watches as Marty and Tammy come up the outside steps. Marty opens the kitchen door, smiles at her, leans forward, and kisses her on the cheek. He looks good. Very handsome. Movie-star handsome. He’s lost a little weight, there’s color to his cheeks, and he’s finally gone to a barber who knows how to cut his thick, wavy hair. His green eyes are twinkling, but his heavy eyebrows are knit together with concern when he looks at her.

She fights the weak, atavistic urge to collapse onto Marty’s chest, throw her arms around his neck, and weep. She sniffs and pulls herself together and smiles.

“Well, you’re looking terrific.” Marty lies like a frickin’ trouper. There’s a little clearing of the throat from behind him and he brings Tammy forward. “Of course you remember Tam,” he says.

Tammy is tall and pretty with boring blue eyes. “Rachel!” Tammy declares and gives her a hug. “How are you doing?” she asks.

“I’m OK,” Rachel says and takes a deep breath.

Now that she’s over the shock of seeing them, she has only two objectives: get them out as quickly as possible and without raising any suspicions about Kylie’s absence.

“Pete, what are you doing here?” Marty asks.

Pete marches across the room and gives his brother a hug. “Hey, Marty.”

“Pete, Jesus, it’s great to see you. Wow, you are as brown as a berry. Look at you. Tammy, this is my big brother, Pete,” Marty says.

“Nice to finally meet you in the flesh,” she says and kisses him on the cheek.

“I think it’s obvious that I got the looks and the brains in the family,” Marty quips. “What brought you up here, big brother?”

Rachel can see the cogs turning in Pete’s brain as he tries to think of something. “I called Pete to help me with the roof,” she says.

“Yeah, the roof,” Pete agrees. “I took care of it.”

“Sorry about that, honey,” Marty says, chagrined. “You sounded really upset on the phone.”

“It’s fine now,” Rachel replies, glancing at the clock.

“So where’s my golden girl? Are we a little early?” Marty says, evidently relieved to have avoided a gigantic fight about the leaky roof. He looks around for Kylie.

“Are you taking Kylie somewhere?” Pete asks, trying too hard to sound casual.

“Taking Kylie for a little daddy time and a little crazy-auntie time. I’m the crazy auntie in this setup,” Tammy says.

“Kylie!” Marty shouts upstairs.

“Oh, I nearly forgot, this is for you,” Tammy says. She reaches into a shopping bag and gives Rachel a bottle of champagne. “It’s your one-year anniversary coming up soon.”

“One year?” Rachel wonders out loud. “We’ve only been divorced since February.”

“Not that. It’s about a year since your last chemo. That’s what Marty said. It’s been a year and it hasn’t come back.”

“Oh, yeah, that. Is it a year? Jesus, how time flies, huh?” Rachel says, still furious at herself for forgetting that Marty was coming.

“A year of full remission. That’s something,” Marty says. “You should celebrate. You’ve got the rest of the weekend off. Treat yourself. Go to that Max Richter concert you could never drag me to!”