Countdown - Iris Johansen [116]
“That could change in a heartbeat.” He glanced at the paper in her hand. “Why do you want to be alone with him?”
“Trevor came up with a possible answer to four eight two. Jock loves you and he has a lot of inward conflict because of that love. But he doesn’t love me. I may be able to break through to him.”
His gaze was still on the paper. “I want to see it.”
“Afterward.”
MacDuff was silent a moment. “Trevor knows you’re doing this?”
“He doesn’t know I’m asking you to leave. He’s out on the porch with Mario.”
“And you don’t want me to join them.” He slowly rose to his feet. “I’ll be outside the door. If you see any sign of aggression don’t wait to call out. Thirty seconds and it could be over.”
“The only person I’ve noticed him willing to commit violence for is you. I’ll be careful not to let him think I’m a threat to you.”
“We pulled the rug out from under him. He may have reverted to the time before I found him in that hospital.”
“Comforting.”
“I don’t want you comfortable. Comfort can be fatal.” He opened the door. “Call if you need me.”
She wasn’t at all comfortable. As she stood and stared down at that beautiful boy, she was sad and angry and filled with horror. “Jock, do you hear me?”
No answer.
“You might as well answer me. I know you probably heard and understood what I was saying to MacDuff.”
No answer.
She sat down on the side of the bed. “Four eight two.”
His muscles stiffened even more.
“Lilac Drive. You once told me you didn’t like lilacs. Such a beautiful flower. I didn’t understand why.”
His hands closed into fists on the coverlet.
“Four eighty-two Lilac Drive.”
The tempo of his breathing was altering, quickening.
“Four eight two, Jock.”
He was panting, the pulse in his throat jumping crazily. But he wouldn’t open his eyes, blast it. She had to find a way to shock him out of this withdrawal.
“You kept saying ‘little,’ ‘too little.’ There was a little girl in that house on Lilac Drive. Pretty, rosy-cheeked, with fair hair. Her name was Jenny. Four years old.”
His head was thrashing back and forth. “No, three . . .”
“You should know better than I do.” She paused. He was still too withdrawn. Okay, hit him hard. Any way she could. “You killed her.”
“No!” His eyes flew open. “Little. Too little.”
“You went there to kill her.”
“Four eight two. Four eight two. Four eight two.”
“Reilly told you the address and what to do. You managed to get into the house and you went to her room. It wasn’t difficult; you’d been trained well. Then you did what Reilly told you to do.”
“I didn’t.” His eyes were blazing in his taut face. “Stop saying that. I should have done it but I couldn’t. Too little. I tried but I couldn’t—touch her.”
“But you always do what Reilly tells you to do. You have to be lying to me.”
“Shut up.” His hands closed on her throat. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it. Wrong. Wrong. Reilly said I should but I couldn’t.”
She could feel his hands tightening with every word. “Let me go, Jock.”
“Shut up. Shut up.”
“What was wrong, Jock? Was it not killing that little girl? Or was it Reilly telling you to do it?” What was she doing? She should be calling for MacDuff. Her throat was so tight she was almost croaking. No, she was too close. “You know the answer. Tell me.”
“Reilly’s—always—right.”
“Bullshit. If he’d been right that night, you’d have killed that child. You realized that night how terrible he was and how many terrible things he’d already made you do. But when you walked away from that house, it was over. His conditioning might have lingered and confused you, but he doesn’t own you any longer.”
Tears were running down his cheeks. “Not over. Never over.”
“Okay, maybe it’s not over.” Jesus, she wished he’d take his hands away from her throat. There was no telling when she might say something that would trigger him. “But you were on your way back when you left four eighty-two Lilac Drive that night. Reilly can’t control you any longer. It’s only a matter of time now.”
“No.”
“Jock, it’s the truth. MacDuff and I have both noticed that you’re changing, getting