There was no doubt about it- calling the police could be a huge mistake. His best chance to save Marissa was to placate Xan, give him exactly what he wanted, but how was he supposed to get one million dollars by noon tomorrow? He’d lied; he had the money- well, he could raise it, anyway. The problem was he only had access to a couple grand in cash and money market funds, but if he sold stock, mutual funds, liquidated part of his 401(k), he could get the million. But it would take time to do this; he sure as hell couldn’t get it done by noon tomorrow and make it all the way up to Kingston.
Then Adam had a thought that scared the hell out of him. What if he gave Xan the money and Xan killed Marissa anyway? Why wouldn’t he? What would there be to stop him?
Adam was feeling completely hopeless when he had another idea. It was risky, very risky, but it seemed to have a better chance of working than any of the other plans. He thought it through, deciding he had no choice but to go for it.
twenty- seven
Johnny drove through northern New Jersey toward upstate New York. In Tuxedo he pulled over on the side of the road and turned on Marissa’s cell. In her dialed call log he found dad cell and clicked message. He sent Adam Bloom the text saying he’d kill the little bitch if he didn’t call back within a minute. Johnny wouldn’t’ve really killed her- why kill her before he got paid?- but, man, it was a rush to mess with Adam like that, to be in total control.
Naturally Adam called back, sounding desperate. Yeah, Johnny could hear the terror in his voice, and he knew he had him by the balls. Man, it felt so great to have all the power, to be the guy calling the shots. Knowing how much Bloom hated him made it even better. Johnny was the last person in the world Bloom wanted to talk to, but he had no choice but to stay on the phone and listen and do whatever Johnny told him to do.
After he gave Bloom the instructions, he ended the call while Bloom was still talking and turned off the phone. Then he wiped off all the prints and tossed the phone into the woods as far as it would go.
He drove another hour or so to a small town called Accord. When he was growing up at St. John’s, Father Hennessy would take Johnny and the other kids up to an old bungalow colony called Max’s for one weekend every summer. Although the bungalows were falling apart and the grass was overgrown, the kids loved getting out of the hot city and running around all day and breathing in fresh air. Johnny loved it, too, except when Hennessy took him on long hikes in the woods and raped him. He told Johnny that if he didn’t keep it a secret God would punish him. Johnny never told anyone, but not because he was afraid of God. He just didn’t want the other kids to make fun of him and call him a faggot.
Johnny figured that one of the bungalows would be the perfect spot to hide out with Marissa. He remembered Hennessy telling him the place was always empty during the off- season and there was no one around for miles.
They drove along the narrow, winding country road. There were so many weeds and overhanging trees in front of the max’s sign that Johnny missed the turnoff and had to make a U-turn and go back. The road going up the hill to Max’s used to be gravel, but it had become almost completely overgrown, and it was hard to even tell that it was a road. Johnny had thought the orphanage was still using Max’s, but it seemed like the whole bungalow colony had been abandoned, like no one had been up there for years.
Johnny parked where Father Hennessy used to park the mini school bus, at the bottom of the hill near the old barn. The barn had been dilapidated and bat- infested back then, but it was where Johnny and Carlos and the guys used to hang out at night and watch TV and play poker and blackjack.
When Johnny cut the headlights it was pitch- dark; he couldn’t see Marissa or the dashboard or anything. Then he turned on the flashlight he’d brought, and maybe the light startled Marissa or she just happened to wake up at that moment because she started moaning, “Where… where am I?… Where am I?” and Johnny said, “Someplace safe, go back to sleep.” Then she said, “How come we’re-” and Johnny said, “Just shut the fuck up and sleep,” which was probably a mistake because she suddenly started screaming. Johnny wasn’t very concerned- they were in the middle of nowhere, and no one had been to Max’s probably for years- but the screaming was loud, hurting his ears, and he just wanted her to shut up.
“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled, but she was fighting back, trying to scratch his face. Then she knocked the flashlight out of his hand, which really pissed him off. He fumbled around on the floor while she continued screeching in his ear, “Help me! Help me!” and then he grabbed the flashlight and smashed her in the face with it. He hit her harder than he meant to- he heard bone, probably her nose, breaking- and it didn’t shut her up at all; it made her scream even louder.
He found a rag he’d brought on the floor and poured some more chloroform onto it and then pressed it over her face. He was pushing down hard, right on her probably broken nose, which had to kill, but after about ten seconds she stopped fighting back and then passed out again.
He waited several seconds, enjoying the sudden silence, and then he put on his backpack and dragged Marissa out of the car. It was about ten degrees cooler up here than in the city- it felt like it was in the low forties, maybe the upper thirties. He should’ve brought a warmer jacket or a sweater and blankets and, oh yeah, food and water. But, come on, he couldn’t think of everything, right? Besides, they were only going to be here one night.
He dragged her up the rickety steps to the porch of one of the bungalows. It was the one he used to stay in with Carlos and a couple of other guys. Some of the floorboards were so loose, probably rotting away and eaten by termites, that he thought the whole floor might cave in. When he pulled on the handle of the front door it was stuck at first, and when he yanked on it the upper part of the door came off its hinges.
It was freezing in the bungalow; it seemed colder than outside. It was musty, too, like air hadn’t circulated in this place for years. Coughing, he shined the flashlight ahead of him as he dragged Marissa along toward the bedroom in the back of the bungalow. His feet were crunching against something. He’d thought it was gravel or sand, but then he shined the flashlight downward and saw that the floor was covered with mouse shit.
The mattress on the old single bed, the one he used to sleep on, was covered with mouse shit, too, but what could you do? He rested Marissa on the bed, got the rope from the backpack, and tied her up so tightly that the rope was probably cutting into her arms, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He was about to tape her mouth shut again, but there was so much blood from her broken nose he was afraid she’d suffocate or choke to death. What he really wanted to do was shoot her right now. Yeah, she was a spoiled brat, and she’d tried to scratch his eyes out a few minutes ago, but he really had nothing against her. His grudge was against her father, so the best thing he could do for her was to put a bullet in her head.
But he knew he had to be smart about this, not humane. Besides, she’d be out of her misery soon. If everything went as planned, she had fourteen hours to live. Fifteen, tops.
Johnny woke up thinking, Note to self- next time you kidnap somebody, don’t hide out in a freezing, mouse- shit- covered bungalow. He’d barely slept. He had to get up to chloroform Marissa a few more times during the night, but he probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep much anyway because of the cold and because he was so excited, thinking about the million dollars he’d get and how he’d spend it. He was definitely gonna go somewhere warm, somewhere where there were beaches, there was no doubt about that. If he couldn’t get out of the country, he’d get a new identity and hide out in California or Florida, probably Florida. He had dark skin, could probably pass for Cuban, and he’d clean up with all the girls down there in Fort Lauderdale and South Beach. Put Johnny Long on a South Florida beach and there was gonna be trouble.