Page 23 of Good and Gone

“We don’t think so. But that’s not why I’m here. We’ll know more about the phone in time.”

“Whyareyou here?”

“I want to hear what Lily has to say,” he tells me. "For that, I need your permission."

“It was just nightmares.”

“How can you be sure?” Jeannie says, pushing away from the table. “How can you know that it’s all in her head?”

“She has a point, Tyler,” he says. “Especially considering the similar statement Mrs. Levitt gave. It’s possible that your daughter actually did see someone outside her window.”

I know this, of course. And of course, I want answers. I want to find Hailey and bring her home. What I don’t want is to further traumatize my daughter. “I don’t want to upset Lily anymore than she already is. She’s five,” I say. “How much can she really tell us?”

“Look, I’m a father too,” he tells me before his face lights up like some circus clown, and I clench my jaw. “I just think it’s important for me to talk to the little girl and ask what she saw, that’s all.”

15

John Doe

There are all sorts of firsts and unknowns in this line of work, but this is up there with the best of them. I’m literally watching the police raid this woman’s home in real time. Live. During her kid’s birthday party.

I’m not sure how it’s supposed to make me feel, but mostly I just feel excited. Not about the bouncy house, or the piñata, or even fucking cake, which I have to say is rather impressive. No, I’m ninety-nine percent sure they're about to arrest the husband, and I sort of need that to happen. Sooner rather than later would be preferable, because things around here are getting a little dicey.

The boss didn’t like all the police business. Obviously, he was less than thrilled about them showing up at my house. And I don’t trust this guy. Not even a little. He’s known for his erratic behavior, especially when it’s one of the girls where there’s any form of personal stake. And there’s definitely a personal stake here. I know. I’m looking at it.

She stirs, possibly feeling the weight of my gaze. “Welcome to the safe house,” I say, trying to sound friendly. It’s the same thing I say every time she wakes up. It’s a little like the movieGroundhog Day,but it works.

It’s important that she trusts me. If she doesn’t, things could get ugly. “I’m John Doe. I’m going to be your new friend.”

She makes eye contact, but only briefly. Little does she know I’m staring at the front of her house, watching her husband experience his worst nightmare while she’s here experiencing her own. At least she’s medicated. I bet he’d appreciate a similar kindness right about now.

“Beautiful day,” I say, and her eyes land on mine. This time she doesn’t look away, but I can tell she’s trying hard to focus. She glances down at the phone in my hand. She sees it as a tool, one she might be able to exploit. The irony is not lost on me. Her child's birthday party is being streamed across social media by every news outlet imaginable. She wanted fame, and I guess she got it.

I watch as she leans forward and barfs onto the floor. I’d like to believe it’s some sixth sense. But it’s the dammed drugs. They’re difficult on the system. “I’ll get you a towel,” I tell her, making sure the phone comes with me.

By the time I come back with a washcloth, she’s out cold again. He thinks it is best to keep her sedated, and who am I to disagree? It certainly gives me plenty of time for other things, like watching the disaster on her lawn unfolding on my phone.

Except that then, in an instant, it isn't perfect anymore, because he comes barreling through the door. The boss tells me he wants time with her and that means I have to leave, which is probably a good thing because I can tell he isn't happy. I suspect it has something to do with the livestream, with the fact that her disappearance is gaining more eyeballs by the minute. Unlike her, he doesn't like attention. It's bad for business. Why he chose to abduct a social media darling is beyond me.

Regardless, it’s probably best that I keep my head down. Better avoid the heat of the moment. I slink off to the kitchen, where I do my best to focus on other things, like alphabetizing her meals. It’s just cans of soup, a rather brainless task, but it gives me something to train my mind on other than what’s going on in that room.

It’s quiet at first. Too quiet. But before long, he's yelling and throwing things around, and there's not much in theretothrow. He loses it sometimes, typically after he gets a result he doesn’t like.

Either way, I have no choice but to stay out of it. I hang out in the kitchen, trying to pretend I’m not here.

Eventually, he yells for me to pack. I do as I'm told, because we both know when he saysmoveyou move. I'm sitting on my bag, zipping it closed, when I hear her screaming. It’s bloodcurdling. Terrifying. She's…she's…she's coming. Coming as inrunning down the hall.

I'm looking for a weapon, for something to push at her, to stop her, but I can't find anything—a letter opener, a butter knife, nothing.

Then she is upon me. There is no time. I widen my eyes and my stance and brace for it. I go to slam my fists into her, but it doesn't happen. Nothing happens.

Except that something has happened. I'm bleeding. The bitch has a knife. And she's running. Running toward the door and then through the door and then who knows where. She's screaming andwhere is he at? Where the fuck is he?I'm not about to chase some naked chick down the street, and a screaming naked chick at that. Not when I have two others in the house. If anyone catches me, it's going to lead them straight back here. There's protocol for this scenario. It's never happened before, but apparently there's a first time for everything and this is that time.Fuck it.

What exactly that protocol is, I can’t say. I’m not thinking about it at the moment, but it will occur to me later that I had a choice. I could have chosen to leave the house and take my chances, or I could have stayed put, let loyalty fly out the door along with her, and saved my own ass. I know what that means. What it will mean if she gets away. But I have a son on the way. I can't exactly be in the middle of everything. He’ll just have to understand. I fucking hope he understands.

16

Hailey

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