The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [45]
“Hold on.” Long went away, then came back. “I’m here. What did you find?”
“Let me ask the questions,” I said. “I need to know what Sara likes to eat.”
“How can this be important?” Long asked.
I looked at the lipstick-smudged napkin still in my hand. Please let this be Sara’s lipstick, I thought. Please.
“Answer the goddamn question,” I shot back.
“All right. Sara’s been a vegetarian since she was in high school. She hasn’t eaten red meat or chicken for years. She’s into healthy organic food, sometimes drives me crazy she’s so picky. Does that help?”
I found myself smiling. “Does she eat fish?”
“Yes, it’s one of her favorite things.”
I had been in a McDonald’s recently, and visualized the menu that hung over the checkout. There were many different sandwiches and burgers. The chance that Mouse had bought Sara a fish sandwich on a whim was slight. More than likely, he’d asked Sara what she liked, and Sara had told him that she wanted a fish sandwich.
“Are you still there?” Long asked nervously. “Please tell me what this means. I have to know.”
Normally, I didn’t share information with clients during investigations. It was a mistake to raise people’s expectations or give them false hope. But I’d brought Long into the process, and didn’t see how I could shut him out without giving him a heart attack.
“One of Sara’s abductors bought food last night at a McDonald’s, and got her a fish sandwich,” I said. “They couldn’t have known that Sara liked fish without Sara telling them.”
“And why is that important?”
“Two reasons. The first, which is the most important, is that her captors aren’t experiencing buyer’s remorse. That sometimes happens during abductions.”
“Buyer’s remorse? What the hell is that?”
“The goods aren’t what you’re expecting, so you get rid of them.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Long whispered.
“The second reason is that Sara’s abductors could have just bought her a burger, and shoved it down her throat. That’s what the majority of abductors do. They don’t care about what their victims like, and just feed them whatever they happen to be eating. Sara’s abductors are different. They asked her what she wanted to eat. That means Sara is talking to them, and has established a line of communication.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“It depends upon what the line of communication is,” I said. “If a victim is constantly whining and complaining, then no, it’s not good. In this case, I think Sara has established a positive line of communication, and gotten on her captors’ good side.”
The napkin was still in my hand. One of Sara’s captors had used it to wipe Sara’s mouth after she’d finished eating her fish sandwich. It was as compassionate a gesture as I could envision between a victim and her kidnapper.
“Now I need to go,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
“Wait!” Long said. “I have something to tell you.”
I glanced at Linderman. The FBI agent had his cell phone out and was talking to someone. The frown on his face was so deep it almost looked permanent.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“I was just talking with the guy who runs my company,” Long said. “I’ve instructed him to put all of my people at your disposal. That includes my two bodyguards and my driver and my helicopter pilot. They’re yours, if you need them.”
“You have a chopper?”
“Yes. Call me anytime you want to use it.”
Linderman had finished his call and was shaking his head in disgust. To Long I said, “That was smart thinking. I’m sorry I cursed you earlier.”
“I’m used to it,” Long said.
We exchanged good-byes, and I put my phone away. To Linderman, I said, “What’s going on?”
“The Hollywood police just found the van burning in a deserted lot in Hallandale,” Linderman said.
“Any sign of Sara or her captors?”
“Not a trace.”
CHAPTER 23
allandale was part of Broward County, only it felt more like Miami, the soulless apartment and condo buildings crammed together, the sprawl of concrete so pervasive that you could drive for blocks without seeing a blade of grass or a tree.