Seeds of Iniquity (In the Company of Killers, #4)(45)

“There is still over four hours,” he says, focused on Nora.

“Are you going to go in there?”

This is the first time I’ve begun to question Victor on this, letting my naturally suspicious mind run away with me again. What is his secret? Does he even have one? Why is he taking his time about it? But my worst fear—does he really intend to play her game for Dina’s sake?

“Yes, I’m going in,” he says. “I have enough on her now that I can take in with me.”

“What are you—”

The door bursts open behind us and Woodard comes into the room, winded and red-faced, holding up a cell phone in one hand.

“Sarah and Ann-Marie,” he says, trying to catch his breath, “my daughters…t-they escaped”—he practically stumbles toward us in his khakis and loafers. Niklas walks in behind him—“t-they just called me.”

My heart begins to race.

“What about Dina? Tessa?”

Woodard shakes his head. “No one said anything about them,” he says and the sudden surge of hope I felt is snatched away from me just as quickly. “Just my daughters. I asked Sarah while I was on the phone with her if anyone else had been with them where they were kept, but I had to be vague. She said it was only her and Ann-Marie. They’re at the police station.”

“Shit,” I hear Victor say.

One of Victor’s pet-peeves is having to deal with the police. It takes a lot more than a cleaner coming in and removing all evidence of a crime in the middle of the night, than having to orchestrate believable stories to tell authorities, and to remove evidence and files from their systems. Sometimes a job like that can take months depending on how many outsiders are involved. And if it makes it onto the news, damage control can be an even longer and more complicated process. I told Victor once that he should invest in one of those ‘flashy-thingies’ Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones used in ‘Men in Black’ to erase everyone’s memories—he didn’t find the humor in it.

“And they’re asking a lot of questions, naturally,” Niklas chimes in. He smiles and adds with an air of dry humor, “Oh, and reporters are already outside the police station—imagine that.” He would’ve found my ‘Men in Black’ joke funny.

“Great,” I say with a sigh, “we don’t need this shit right now.”

“Are they on the phone?” Victor glances briefly at the cell phone in Woodard’s hand, and then up at him with a threatening gaze.

That would be a really stupid thing—having them on the other end of the phone while we’re discussing this—but sometimes Woodard doesn’t use that big brain of his for important things like common sense.

His chins jiggle as he shakes his head rapidly and drops the phone in the pocket of his khakis.

“No, I-I just got off the phone with them,” he says. “Sarah called me from the police station. I-I had to pretend I didn’t even know my daughters were missing.” Thankfully, their mother, Woodard’s wife, has been in London the past two days, otherwise she would’ve reported them missing and the police would’ve been involved a lot sooner. Also, his daughters are of legal age.

“They need me to come down to the station,” Woodard says eagerly, hoping that Victor will grant him permission to leave.

“Victor, no,” I say, looking over at him with desperation. “There’s no time. It could take hours just for them to file a report and try to recall what happened and to explain it and to—”

“He has to go, Izabel,” Victor says and my heart sinks like a stone. “We can’t draw any unnecessary attention. If Woodard doesn’t immediately go to the police station and”—he looks right at Woodard as if to drill the next sentence into his head—“put on a believable act, they will be questioning him next.”

“Not to mention,” Niklas speaks up, “we need to know what his daughters have to say about their abduction—who the f*ck else is involved, what they look like, how many there are.”

I shoot Niklas with a hateful glare. He brushes it off.

He’s right though; it’s important that we know those things. Extremely important. But I still can’t convince myself that this is a good idea. It’s cutting it too close. Nora said that all of us had to be in the same room when whoever she came here for realizes why, and would have to confess in front of everyone. First Fredrik still hasn’t shown, then Dorian gets thrown in a cell, and now Woodard is leaving? I think I’m going to be sick.

“I will go in and talk with Nora next,” Victor says looking at me, trying to ease my mind. “I won’t wait until Woodard returns, but I’ll have to buy as much time as I can in there with her to give Woodard enough time to send me the information he obtains. I may be able to use it against her as well.”

Sighing deeply and spearing all ten fingers through the top of my hair, I stare at Nora in the screen for a moment.

“OK,” I give in. I drop my arms back at my sides and march over to stand in front of Woodard. “You listen to me James,” I demand, pointing my finger at him. “When you go into that station you need to play the part—you had no idea they’d been abducted, but you’re frantic and worried and you don’t even hear anyone else other than your daughters at first because you’re too busy hugging them, and looking them over for signs of abuse, and asking them if they’re OK. You’re distraught, James, do you understand?”