Bones of a Feather - Carolyn Haines [64]
“Can Oscar get the cash?” Eleanor asked Tinkie. Her mind had obviously forged ahead. “The insurance check is good. Once Monica is rescued, she’ll endorse it. There won’t be any liability for your husband.”
“He’ll do his best.” Something was troubling Tinkie. I started to ask what was wrong, but she gave me a glance that told me to hold off. She went to the recorder and played back the message. Monica’s voice was strong, even broken up by the static. “You’re sure this is your sister?”
Fear passed across Eleanor’s face. “Do you think it’s an imposter?”
Tinkie tried to hide her worry. “No, I believe it’s Monica and I think she’s unharmed.”
“Then we have to be ready.” Eleanor drained her glass and put it down. “Whatever they want from me, I’ll do it. I’ve lost everyone in my life I ever loved. I will not lose my sister.”
Tinkie re-cued the machine, but she didn’t play it. “If Oscar helps with the money, Eleanor, we have to be ready for the kidnapper when he calls with the details of the drop. Could you listen to the call again?”
“Why?” Eleanor was distraught. “It makes me feel so helpless.”
“Does it sound like she’s calling from the same place the kidnapper called from the first two times?”
Eleanor considered for a moment. “Play it again, please.”
Tinkie hit the button and Monica’s voice once more filled the room.
“I can’t say for certain.” Eleanor went to the mantel and steadied herself. “I don’t remember the static or echoey sound, but maybe I wasn’t paying attention. Maybe it was there all along.” She tugged a handful of her hair. “Why can’t I remember? What’s wrong with me? This is my sister’s life!”
Tinkie caught her hand and stopped the tugging. “It’s hard to remember details at a time like this. Relax. Let the conversations come back to you. Anything you remember could be helpful. Background noises, things we can use to pinpoint the location. Is there any place in Natchez with acoustics like that? An old, empty building?”
Eleanor’s eyes closed. “There’re dozens of old buildings all over Natchez. I could make you a list, and I will if you think it’ll help. But Monica could be a prisoner in at least sixty different places. You’d require weeks to check them all out.”
“Could you narrow the list?” Eleanor might unwittingly give us helpful information. I believed the kidnapper, singular or plural, was familiar with the Levert family. “Do you own any empty buildings?”
“We do. Our accountant keeps up with all properties, rented and empty. My brain isn’t working properly. Now, of all times, I simply can’t think clearly.” The pressure had been relentless since Monica’s abduction. Eleanor was exhausted and her body was demanding rest.
“Write a list for us. Tomorrow we can check any spaces you come up with.” Daylight would serve us far better in our quest. I wasn’t a coward by any means, but we could be thorough and quick with sunshine to help. And much safer.
“Tomorrow.” Eleanor shifted away from the mantel and almost fell.
“Try to sleep.” Tinkie offered assistance, but Eleanor righted herself and waved her away.
“Tomorrow, I’ll call the accountant and he can help me write down the locations. I doubt they’ll be helpful, but I’ll try. Whatever it takes. Monica must be saved.”
I had a question for Eleanor. “Before you go to your room, one more thing. Monica referred to the kidnapper as a ‘he,’ which jibes with what you told us about a man calling twice before. Was there anything about the voice you recognized?”
“He was so … confident. So cruel.” Eleanor shuddered
“Who is this person?” I spoke aloud, though I didn’t intend to.
“I don’t know.” Eleanor sounded as if she might cry.
“You need to eat something,” Tinkie told her. “I can whip up an omelet or something—”
“No.” Eleanor held up a hand as if warding off a blow. “I can’t eat. My stomach churns at the thought of food. I’ll go