Disappearances by Linda Byler

for help.
    Another scenario that held more logic was knotting the bed sheets, the bedspread, the towels, and whatever else she could use, hanging them down the side of the great house, and slipping away during the night. But who could measure how many sheets it would take to reach the ground? What if she stayed dangling halfway, unable to climb back up, and the distance too great to drop down? The alarm system in a home this grand was another thing to be reckoned with. Probably not even a cat could roam these grounds without someone being aware of it.
    She stood at the window, watched the wind blow the brown tufts of grass, prayed to be allowed to feel the wonderful breezes caress her face. Sometime she felt as if she was riding Paris, Reuben beside her, laughing, the wind tearing at her dichly. She would smile, remember, and then tears would rain down her cheeks, missing Reuben.
    The fat man was becoming increasingly forgetful, leaving her without breakfast, and sometimes without anything to eat until evening. Once, she received only a stack of stale saltines and a warm bottle of Dr. Pepper without apology. He seemed to become more agitated as time went on, peering over his shoulder before he entered, his fingers drumming on the window pane as he stood, parted the wooden slats of the blinds, then turned sharply.
    “They’re not responding yet.”
    Sadie looked up sharply. “Who?”
    “The people we think have the palomino.”
    “Maybe they don’t even have her.”
    “Do you know more than you’re telling us?”
    “Absolutely not. I told you the truth.”
    “I don’t believe you.”
    “Please. I don’t know where they took her or who the men were.”
    “Why wouldn’t they respond?”
    Suddenly Sadie became physically ill, her stomach churning with fear, the knowledge hitting her, slamming into her with the force of a hurricane: the kidnappers must not have alerted the police or government agents, or they would have responded a long time ago. It was becoming clear to Sadie that these men weren’t really interested in the horse. Paris had little, if anything, to do with her abduction.
    Sadie felt a cold sweat break out on her back and shoulders. Her hands shook of their own accord as she clenched them in her lap, desperately trying to still them before the fat man saw her fear. Play dumb. She would need to be an opossum, playing dead. It was the only way.
    “Perhaps they don’t have her.”
    “That’s what I’m thinking.”
    The fat man was pacing now, extremely agitated. “So, if we can’t get the horse, and we take you back, I’ll spend time in jail for having taken you in the first place. It’s not looking good.”
    Sadie nodded.
    “And … if you were to disappear … Just weighing my options here.”
    Another lurch of Sadie’s stomach was followed by her mouth drying up, her breath coming in shallow puffs, the color draining from her face. Play dumb. She heard the words this time. She forced herself to meet his eyes, found his sliding away, furtive, sensitive, unstable.
    “You mean you’ll let me go, right?” she asked, as normally as she could possibly manage.
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “You’d turn me in.”
    “What does that mean?”
    He gave her a look of disbelief.
    “You mean you don’t know?”
    “No.”
    Sadie squared her shoulders, sat up, took a deep breath, summoned her courage. “Don’t you have a wife, children, anyone you care about?”
    “Used to.”
    “Did you love her? Or your children?”
    “Yeah, at one time I did. But I got to messing with this … uh … operation, and they left.”
    “Who left?”
    “They did.”
    “You mean your wife and children?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you own this house?”
    “No! Who do you think I am?”
    “I have no idea who you are.”
    “No. I don’t own this place. I just work for the guy who does. Things are just so out of control right now. I mean, he always dealt in horses. Done real good for himself. Beautiful wife and