Swimsuit - James Patterson [8]
“I delivered a brilliant piece of work,” Henri had snapped. “How can you deny it?”
“Watch the attitude, Henri. We’re all friends, yes?”
Yes. Friends in a strictly commercial enterprise in which one set of amigos controlled the money. And now Horst was telling him that his buddies weren’t quite happy enough. They wanted more. More twists. More action. More clapping at the end of the movie.
“Use your imagination, Henri. Surprise us.”
They would pay more, of course, for additional contracted services, and after a while the prospect of more money softened the edges of Henri’s bad mood without touching the core of his contempt for the Peepers.
They wanted more?
So be it.
By the time his second cup of coffee was finished, he had mapped out a new plan. He dug a wireless phone out of his pocket and began making calls.
Chapter 9
THAT NIGHT SNOW FELL LIGHTLY on Levon and Barbara McDaniels’s house in Cascade Township, a wooded suburb of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Inside their efficient but cozy three-bedroom brick home, the two boys slept deeply under their quilts.
Down the hall, Levon and Barbara lay back-to-back, soles touching across the invisible divide of their Sleep Number bed, their twenty-five-year connection seemingly unbroken even in sleep.
Barbara’s night table was stacked with magazines and half-read paperbacks, folders of tests and memos, a crowd of vitamin supplements around her bottle of green tea. Don’t worry about it, Levon, and please don’t touch anything. I know where everything is.
Levon’s nightstand favored his left brain to Barb’s right: his neat stack of annual reports, annotated copy of Against All Reason, pen and notepad, and a platoon of electronics — phones, laptop, weather clock — all lined up four inches from the table’s edge, plugged into a power strip behind the lamp.
The snowfall had wrapped the house in a white silence — and then a ringing phone jarred Levon awake. His heartbeat boomed, and his mind reeled in instant panic. What was happening?
Again the phone rang, and this time Levon made a grab for the landline.
He glanced at the clock, which read 3:14 a.m., and wondered who the hell would be calling at this hour. And then he knew. It was Kim. She was five hours behind them. He figured she’d gotten that mixed up somehow.
“Kim? Honey?” Levon said into the mouthpiece.
“Kim is gone,” said the male voice in Levon’s ear.
Levon’s chest tightened, and he couldn’t catch his breath. Was he having a heart attack? “Sorry? What did you say?”
Barb sat up in bed, turned on the light.
“Levon?” she said. “What is it?”
Levon held up a hand. Give me a second. “Who is this?” he asked, rubbing his chest to ease the pain.
“I only have a minute, so listen carefully. I’m calling from Hawaii. Kim’s disappeared. She’s fallen into bad hands.”
Levon’s fear filled him from scalp to toes with a cold terror. He clung to the phone, hearing the echo of the man’s voice: “She’s fallen into bad hands.”
It made no sense.
“I don’t get you. Is she hurt?”
No answer.
“Hello?”
“Are you listening to what I’m saying, Mr. McDaniels?”
“Yes. Who is this speaking, please?”
“I can only tell you once.”
Levon pulled at the neck of his T-shirt, trying to decide what to think. Was the man a liar, or telling the truth? He knew his name, phone number, that Kim was in Hawaii. How did he know all that?
Barb was asking him, “What’s happening? Levon, is this about Kim?”
“Kim didn’t show up at the shoot yesterday morning,” said the caller. “The magazine is keeping it quiet. Crossing their fingers. Hoping she’ll come back.”
“Have the police been called? Has someone called the police?”
“I’m hanging up now,” said the caller. “But if I were you, I’d get on the next plane to Maui. You and Barbara.”
“Wait! Please, wait. How do you know she’s missing?”
“Because I did it, sir. I saw her. I liked her. I took her. Have a nice day.”
Chapter 10
“WHAT DO YOU WANT? Tell me