The Chemist - Page 78

“That wasn’t our deal. And, Daniel…”

“What?” His voice was harder now, with an edge. He was beginning to understand.

“Neither Kevin nor I will be able to… well, perform at our best if the leverage they have against us is in the same place the bad guys are.”

There was almost a physical weight to the meaning of her words as they dropped, an aftershock in the silence that followed.

He stared at her, unblinking, for a long moment. She waited.

“Are you joking?” he finally asked. His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “Do you think I’m really going to let you leave me here to twiddle my thumbs while you risk your life?”

“No. And yes, you are.”

“Alex…”

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“I know that, but… I just can’t wrap my mind around it. How will I stand it? Waiting here, not knowing? Alex, I’m serious!”

His voice turned impatient at the end. She wasn’t looking at him; she was staring straight ahead at the television.

“Alex?”

“Turn up the volume. Now.”

He glanced at the TV, froze for one brief second, then jumped up and fumbled on the floor for the remote. He jammed a few wrong keys before the newscaster’s voice thundered through the surround-sound speakers.

“— missing since last Thursday, when police believe he was abducted from the high school where he teaches. A substantial reward is being offered for information leading to his recovery. If you’ve seen this man, please call the number below.”

On the large screen, Daniel’s face was blown up to four times its actual size. It was a snapshot rather than an official portrait from the yearbook. He was outside somewhere sunny, smiling widely, his hair tousled and damp from sweat. His arms were stretched over the shoulders of two shorter people whose faces were cropped out of the image. It was a very good picture of him, both attractive and engaging; he looked like the kind of person you would want to help. An 800 number was printed in bright red across the bottom of the screen.

The picture disappeared, replaced by a handsomely aging anchorman and a much younger, perky blond anchorwoman.

“That’s a shame, Bryan. Let’s hope they get him back home to his family soon. Now we’ll take a look at the weather with Marceline. How are things looking for the rest of the week, Marcie?”

The picture moved to a sultry brunette standing in front of a digital map of the entire country.

“This is national news,” Alex whispered. Her mind started working through the scenarios.

Daniel muted the sound.

“The school must have called the police,” Daniel said.

She just looked at him.

“What?”

“Daniel, do you know how many people go missing every day?”

“Oh… their pictures don’t all end up on the news, do they?”

“Especially not full-grown men who’ve only been missing a few days.” She got up and started pacing. “They’re trying to flush you out. What does that mean? Where are they going with this? Do they think Kevin killed me? Or do they think I figured out the truth and took off with you? Why would they think I’d take you with me? It has to be about Kevin. It is his face, too. They must think I lost. Right? This news spot would be easier for the CIA to arrange than for my department. Of course, if they’re working together…”

“Will Kevin see this?” Daniel worried. “He’s right there in DC.”

“Kevin’s not showing his face, regardless.”

She paced for another minute, then went to sit with Daniel again. She curled her legs under her and took his hand.

“Daniel, who did you talk to yesterday?”

His color heightened. “I told you. I didn’t speak to anyone but the people at the counter.”

“I know, but who were they? Male, female, old, young?”

“Um, the checker at the grocery store was a guy, older, maybe fifty, Hispanic.”

“Was the store busy?”

“A little. He was the only checker. There were three people in line behind me.”

“That’s good.”

“The dollar store was small. It was just me. But the woman at the counter had a TV on – she was watching a game show. She didn’t look up much.”

“How old was she?”

“Older than the first guy. White hair. Why? Older people watch more news, don’t they?”

She shrugged. “Possibly. The third?”

“Just graduated, I guess. I remember wondering if school was out before I realized she worked there.”

Her stomach felt suddenly heavier. “A young girl? And she was friendly – very friendly.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. How did you know?”

She sighed. “Daniel, you’re an attractive man.”

“I’m ordinary, at best. And I’m a decade too old for a girl that age,” he protested.

“Old enough to be intriguing. Look, it doesn’t matter. We’ll do the few things we can. You stop shaving as of now, and we lie not just low, but flat. Aside from that, all we can do is hope the girl’s not a news watcher. And that they don’t run any pieces on whatever social media kids are using right now.”

“Would they?”

“If they think of it. They’re throwing Hail Marys.”

He dropped his head into his free hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Tags: Stephenie Meyer Thriller
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