it now.
Rae slowly sat up, her body cramping in a dozen d i fferent spots after holding still in a small place for so long.
"Aiden," she said softly. "I need to-"
His eyes, wide with shock, met hers in the rearview mirror. The car veered to the left, dangerously close tothe cars parked along the curb. "Don't move. Don't say anything," Aiden barked. Rae could see the muscles in his neck tense as he carefully and deliberately drove the half block to the nearest strip mall, pulled in, parked, and turned off the car.
Slowly he turned toward her. "Rae Voight," he said, sounding like he was talking to himself. His gaze sharpened on her face, and Rae felt her veins constrict, slowing down the blood flowing through her body. He was just an ordinary-looking forty-something guy, even sort of dorky with his old-guy little ponytail. But there was a coldness in his eyes that she could feel in every drop of her blood. "What exactly are you doing in my car?"
Rae pushed herself up onto the backseat. She wasn't going to have his conversation from the floor. "What exactly am I doing in your car?" she repeated, using Allison's group-therapy technique to give her time to, well, basically, get her brain-her cold brain-working again. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm doing here," Rae said. "I… I… A woman called my house and told me to meet you at the Motel 6 last Saturday. When I got there, I was tied up and gagged. I might not have lived through it if-"
"And you got into my car? What in the hell were you thinking?" Aiden demanded, sounding a lot like Anthony did when he got pissed off. "Who was itthat grabbed you?" He twisted farther around, grabbing the top of the front seat with both hands. "What did they look like? I need to know everything you can remember."
"They had masks on," Rae told him. She could describe one of them, the fake meter reader, because she'd seen him at her house. But she didn't know how much she wanted to let Aiden know she knew.
"How many were there?" Aiden's eyes were practically shooting ice pellets.
"Two," Rae answered. Her fingers itched to sweep the top of the front seat, but Aiden still had a death grip on it.
"And what did they say to you? They must have asked you questions. I need to know everything."
You already said that once, Rae thought. And that tells me that you know a lot. If you didn't, you'd be driving me to the police station right now so I could make a report. Or at least you'd be taking me home.
"Start with anything," Aiden urged. "A smell. A sound. One detail can help you remember the rest."
"It's not like I'm going to forget anytime soon," Rae answered. She flashed on the feel of the quilted bedspread in the motel, the feel of the blindfold, and the little beads of sweat its warmth had brought out on the skin around her eyes. "I'm sorry," Aiden said quietly. He released hishold on the front seat and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry. It must have been… I can hardly imagine how you must have felt. But if you tell me what you remember, there might be some way I can help."
A way he can help. Not the police. Not the FBI. Him. Rae felt like dozens of needles were pricking her from the inside. Who was Aiden Matthews, really? Because he definitely didn't teach pottery or whatever at the community center. She knew from going fingertip-to-fingertip with him the last time that he'd seen her mother at the center and that he had at least some information about experiments done there, possibly on Rae's mother and the other women in her group. But maybe his involvement went a lot deeper. Did he help on the experiments? Run them?
Was he trying to find out what she knew so he could protect her kidnappers?
Whatever his deal is, it's safe to tell him what you remember from the motel, Rae thought. If he was connected to the kidnappers, he'd know all that, anyway. But she was suddenly very glad she hadn't admitted that she knew exactly what one of the kidnappers looked like without his mask.
"There's a
Rae slowly sat up, her body cramping in a dozen d i fferent spots after holding still in a small place for so long.
"Aiden," she said softly. "I need to-"
His eyes, wide with shock, met hers in the rearview mirror. The car veered to the left, dangerously close tothe cars parked along the curb. "Don't move. Don't say anything," Aiden barked. Rae could see the muscles in his neck tense as he carefully and deliberately drove the half block to the nearest strip mall, pulled in, parked, and turned off the car.
Slowly he turned toward her. "Rae Voight," he said, sounding like he was talking to himself. His gaze sharpened on her face, and Rae felt her veins constrict, slowing down the blood flowing through her body. He was just an ordinary-looking forty-something guy, even sort of dorky with his old-guy little ponytail. But there was a coldness in his eyes that she could feel in every drop of her blood. "What exactly are you doing in my car?"
Rae pushed herself up onto the backseat. She wasn't going to have his conversation from the floor. "What exactly am I doing in your car?" she repeated, using Allison's group-therapy technique to give her time to, well, basically, get her brain-her cold brain-working again. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm doing here," Rae said. "I… I… A woman called my house and told me to meet you at the Motel 6 last Saturday. When I got there, I was tied up and gagged. I might not have lived through it if-"
"And you got into my car? What in the hell were you thinking?" Aiden demanded, sounding a lot like Anthony did when he got pissed off. "Who was itthat grabbed you?" He twisted farther around, grabbing the top of the front seat with both hands. "What did they look like? I need to know everything you can remember."
"They had masks on," Rae told him. She could describe one of them, the fake meter reader, because she'd seen him at her house. But she didn't know how much she wanted to let Aiden know she knew.
"How many were there?" Aiden's eyes were practically shooting ice pellets.
"Two," Rae answered. Her fingers itched to sweep the top of the front seat, but Aiden still had a death grip on it.
"And what did they say to you? They must have asked you questions. I need to know everything."
You already said that once, Rae thought. And that tells me that you know a lot. If you didn't, you'd be driving me to the police station right now so I could make a report. Or at least you'd be taking me home.
"Start with anything," Aiden urged. "A smell. A sound. One detail can help you remember the rest."
"It's not like I'm going to forget anytime soon," Rae answered. She flashed on the feel of the quilted bedspread in the motel, the feel of the blindfold, and the little beads of sweat its warmth had brought out on the skin around her eyes. "I'm sorry," Aiden said quietly. He released hishold on the front seat and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry. It must have been… I can hardly imagine how you must have felt. But if you tell me what you remember, there might be some way I can help."
A way he can help. Not the police. Not the FBI. Him. Rae felt like dozens of needles were pricking her from the inside. Who was Aiden Matthews, really? Because he definitely didn't teach pottery or whatever at the community center. She knew from going fingertip-to-fingertip with him the last time that he'd seen her mother at the center and that he had at least some information about experiments done there, possibly on Rae's mother and the other women in her group. But maybe his involvement went a lot deeper. Did he help on the experiments? Run them?
Was he trying to find out what she knew so he could protect her kidnappers?
Whatever his deal is, it's safe to tell him what you remember from the motel, Rae thought. If he was connected to the kidnappers, he'd know all that, anyway. But she was suddenly very glad she hadn't admitted that she knew exactly what one of the kidnappers looked like without his mask.
"There's a
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