Page 10 of The Chain

Thursday, 9:16 a.m.

When Rachel gets back to her house on Plum Island she walks into the kitchen and falls to the floor. It isn’t a swoon. She’s not fainting. She just can no longer remain vertical. She lies there on the linoleum like a disheveled question mark. Her pulse is racing, her throat constricting. She feels like she’s having a heart attack.

But she can’t have a heart attack. She has to save her daughter.

She sits up and tries to breathe and think.

They’d said don’t call the police. They are probably afraid of the police.

The police will know what to do. Won’t they?

She reaches for the phone but stops herself. No. She dare not risk it.

Don’t call the cops. Never call the cops. If they find out she has called the cops, they’ll kill Kylie immediately. There was something about that woman’s voice. The desperation in it. The determination. She’ll do it and she’ll move on to another victim. The whole thing about The Chain is incredible and crazy and yet…that woman’s voice…it had the ring of truth. The woman had clearly been terrified of The Chain and its power and she believed in it.

And I believe too,Rachel thinks.

But she doesn’t have to be alone. She needs help.

Marty. He’ll know what to do.

She speed-dials Marty’s number but it goes straight to voice mail. She tries again but again gets voice mail. She looks down her list of contacts and calls his new house in Brookline.

“Hellooo,” Tammy answers in that singsongy voice of hers.

“Tammy?” Rachel asks.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“This is Rachel. I’ve been trying to contact Marty.”

“He’s out of town.”

“Oh? Where is he?”

“He’s in, um, oh, what’s that place…”

“Work?”

“No. You know…the place where they play golf.”

“Scotland?”

“No! Where everybody goes. He was so excited.”

“Golfing, when did he start…never mind. Look, Tammy, I’m trying to reach him and it’s an emergency and I can’t get through on his phone.”

“He’s down there with the firm. They’re on a retreat so they had to hand in their phones.”

“But where is it, Tammy? Please, think.”

“Augusta! He’s in Augusta. I think I have a contact number somewhere if you need it.”

“I need it.”

“Yeah, hold on, lemme see, here it is, OK.” She reads out a number.

“Thanks, Tammy. I better call him.”

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