WYATT, THE MAN who’d taken me, said that he would tell me everything, and that I could ask him anything. So I did.

“Are you my real father?”

“Yes.” He shifted in his chair. “Well, not by birth, no. Which is why your last name isn’t Ringwald anymore either. It’s Lowenstein. My name. Your birth father was James Ringwald, a senator from Nevada. He died a few years ago. He was the one who took you away from your mother because he wanted nothing to do with either of you after you were born. Sent you away to an orphanage and forced Kathryn into an institution to cover his tracks and save his career.”

“Now you’re doing that to me?”

“Doing what?”

“Forcing me.”

He looked horrified. “No, it’s not like that. Those people have no right to you by blood. You belong with your mother. And me. It’s the way God designed it. Sometimes the law just isn’t on God’s side, is all.”

“Shouldn’t I have a say? I know I’m only thirteen, but I’m not a nobody that can be pushed and pulled around.”

“No, sweetheart! No, of course you’re not.”

“What if I want to go back?”

Judging by the look on his face, this seemed like a new idea to him. So I continued.

“You frightened me and hurt Louise, who loves me very much. Why didn’t Kathryn just come to the door and ask to speak with me?”

“You don’t understand. They put her in an institution to get her away from you! You think they would just let her take you back?”

“Why would they want to keep my mother away from me?”

“Because James Ringwald was an evil man. He didn’t want Kathryn to mess things up for him—he was married to someone else and he wanted to keep her quiet so he accused her of being crazy and sent her to an institution. When she got out, you were gone and there was no way for her to find you.”

It sounded like it could be true, but I didn’t know if I could believe him.

“I may be young and I may have lost all my memory from before I was thirteen, but I can still make my own decisions. If my mother loves me, she would understand that.”

“You lost your memory?”

So he didn’t know.

“You don’t remember anything?”

I wondered if I should explain. Then thought it would better not to.

“Everything up until six months ago.”

“How did that happen?”

“I don’t know.”

“You see? You poor thing, you’ve been hurt. You belong with your mother. I promise, after you meet your mother and brother in a few days, you can make your own decision. Kathryn would never make you stay. That wouldn’t be right.”

I stared at him, confused.

“I have a brother?”

“Yes. Bobby. He’s ten and I know you’re going to love him. He needs his big sister, you’re going to see that too. You belong with us, Eden. But you can decide for yourself. Promise.”

He used that word a lot. Maybe he meant it. Maybe he didn’t. But the idea of having a brother worked its way into my mind—one more thing to make my head spin.

“Then why not just take me now and let me decide?”

“I’m going to, but I can’t yet. Zeke says the first two or three days are the most critical. I can’t be on the roads. He set it up so we could spend three days here—it’s an old ’shiner’s place, empty for a couple months. Right now the FBI’s all over the place hunting for my truck. It’s got Tennessee plates so they’ll think I’ve gone there, but we’re right here, hidden in their backyard. We’ll leave the truck here when we go. They’ll eventually find it but we’ll be long gone and back home. Then, if you decide not to stay, you can come back.”

I could leave a note, I thought. When they did find this place, they would find the note.

“Where are you taking me?”

“A long way away. But I can’t tell you where, not yet. You’ll see for yourself. No one can know. If they find us, they’ll put your mother in jail. Both of us. Even if you decide to leave us, you can’t ever tell them where we live. You have to promise me that much. Okay?”

He was going to trust me? Maybe he really did mean everything he said. Or maybe he had no intention of ever letting me go.

“I promise,” I said. But I don’t know if I meant it.

“So you’ll come with me?”

It was a strange question.

“Aren’t you making me?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then you’ll take me back?”

“No. No, I can’t do that. It would kill your mother. You can come with me and you’ll see.”

“And then I can leave if I want to?”

He hesitated a moment, then dipped his head. “Sure. But you have to come with me first, of course.”

His thinking was a little upside-down, I thought. As if he wanted my participation in what he was actually forcing on me, maybe to make himself feel better. Which meant he did care. But he’d taped me up and kidnapped me.

“So you’ll come?” he asked again.

I nodded.

He slapped the tabletop. “That’s what I’m talking about! Kathryn will be delighted. If we had cell service up here, I’d call her now and let you talk to her. Wait here.”

He stood up, hurried into the kitchen, withdrew a jar of clear liquid from the cupboard, and came back, grinning ear to ear.

“We’re going to make a toast,” he said, unscrewing the jar’s lid. “To you. To Kathryn.”

“What’s that?”

“Moonshine, sweetheart. Made it myself. It’s strong but it will purify you inside and out.”

He took a drink and swallowed, then passed the jar to me.

“Me?”

“It’s holy juice. Just take a small sip. You’ll see.”

I took the jar tentatively, sniffed it, then took a tiny sip.

It tasted like poison and I spewed most of it out.

He laughed. “Good, isn’t it?”

“It’s horrible!”

“Well, yes, at first I guess it is a bit strong. But it’s the real deal, sweetheart. You’re now purified. Welcome to the family.”

For a moment I actually felt like part of some strange family, and I think I might have even given him a little grin.

Then I remembered where I was and I wasn’t so sure.

Not at all.

5

Day Four 9:03 am

OLIVIA LOOKED over downtown Greenville from the second-floor conference room as the morning sun made its undeterred journey to mark the beginning of this, the fourth day since Alice had been taken.

Four days too long.

Although her office at the FBI headquarters in Columbia was only an hour-and-a-half drive south, the local field office had become her base for the last three days because of its proximity to the crime scene.

Behind her, several caseworkers sat around the long table that filled the room, poring over the situation reports that had come in during the night from local police who were helping follow up on leads.

“You should think about getting some sleep,” Benner said and passed her a steaming cup of coffee.

“I’m not tired.”

“Well, you look it.”

She took a sip.

“At least get a bite to eat.”

She turned on her heel and walked toward the front of the room. “Not hungry.”

Olivia set the coffee on the table’s edge and stopped, arms crossed, in front of the flat-panel TV mounted on the wall. Multicolored markers dotted a digital map, each one indicating a lead in the case. Three days ago, the majority had been yellow and green—good, or at least viable, leads mostly reported sightings of the truck after the Amber Alert had been issued.

Now she was staring at a landscape of red.

We’re losing her.

Professionalism only went so far. No one could bury their frustration forever. The energy in the room had taken a negative turn—she didn’t want it to take root.

She turned to face them. “All right, people. Let’s run through what we’ve got.”

The low murmur of activity stopped. All eyes focused on Olivia.