Marnie shook her head. The cell phone in her purse was off. No, she wouldn’t call Jake McGrath. Only one person knew their location today. While she struggled to discern his motive, she had no doubt about his actions. He’d tipped off the media. But why? What was his angle? What had he gained from this? Why would he do such a cruel thing to her and, more importantly, Olivia?
When the house phone rang, both women jumped.
Mrs. Grant answered, and her neutral expression quickly sobered and darkened. Wordlessly, she hung up the phone. “Follow me.”
On automatic pilot, and because of years of ingrained training, Marnie stood and walked without comment. She was vaguely aware of Olivia following suit.
Mrs. Grant led them to the family room where she switched on the television and selected a local station where the six o'clock news was beginning. The first segment was about a potential transit strike. The second about a new committee created by the mayor to address some pressing social issue.
The words barely registered as Marnie fought the nausea threatening to overwhelm her.
Then, suddenly, the female anchor pivoted to face the camera. “Today, Laura Derks and Olivia Bater were spotted in the downtown theater district.”
A shot of the two of them exiting the theater.
“Both women endured extended captivity at the hands of depraved men. Laura was held for seven years while Olivia had been held for four. An investigation by our reporter, Phil Turner, has discovered more information about these two young women. Phil?”
The shot cut to the man standing on King Street in front of the theater.
People milled about, watching him.
“Well, Iris, I discovered Lydia Bater, Olivia's mother, was arrested on drug charges over three weeks ago. They granted her bail, but she appears to have vanished.” Some old footage of Olivia and Lydia played as Phil’s voice was overlaid.
“Mother and daughter made their way through the media after Olivia was recovered a year-and-a-half ago. They convicted her captor, Demeter Anton, and he is in prison as we speak.”
A pause and now they put Marnie's seventh-grade photo on the screen.
“Laura Derks escaped her captor five years ago and has not been seen in public since. The sighting of the two women today suggests they’ve formed some kind of bizarre bond. I spoke to psychologist Dr. Cornelius Green.”
Dr. Green's ruddy face filled the screen. “Although I cannot speak about the mental health of these two women, clearly they are still deeply psychologically disturbed if they have sought each other out. I wouldn’t have recommended this course of action. Who knows what’s going on in their minds?”
Dr. Green's image disappeared, replaced by the photograph of Olivia and Marnie which Jake had taken the night before.
Olivia gasped, but Marnie’s attention remained transfixed to the screen.
“Laura Derks is the daughter of billionaire financier Martin Derks, who was unavailable for comment.”
A photo of her father replaced the one of the women. Carefully posed, Martin Derks looked down at the camera. Undoubtedly one of his publicity photos, the picture made him look powerful.
The image came back to Iris, the anchor. “Did the women have any comment?”
Phil was back in the shot. “No, Iris, they had no comment.” Fade to the reel of Marnie glaring out the back of the cab. “Obviously something is going on, as both women appeared happy as they left the theater. Clearly, they are no longer suffering the ill effects of their captivities. Iris, back to you.”
“Thanks, Phil. Today a coyote attacked a dog—”
The image went dark, and Mrs. Grant placed the remote on the coffee table.
The silence was deafening, and Marnie tried desperately to find something to say. Searching for some words to comfort Olivia and, if she was honest, herself.
“That was decidedly unpleasant.” Mrs. Grant pivoted to the two women. “Let’s go back to the kitchen. I’ll pour you each a fresh cup of tea.”
Marnie blinked, finally taking in the older woman's words. “That sounds great. We'll be there in a minute.”
Mrs. Grant gave her assent and left the room.
“Why would Uncle Jake do that?” Olivia gestured weakly toward the screen. “Why would Uncle Jakedo that?”
Another wave of nausea rolled over Marnie. “Who knows why anyone does anything?”