Page 45 of The Chain

Marty shakes his head. “No, no, we’d better go if we’re going to beat the traffic back.”

“Traffic?” Tammy says, puzzled. “The traffic will be going the other way.”

“There will be traffic,” Marty insists.

“I’m so sorry I screwed up,” Rachel says.

Marty gives her a sympathetic nod. “It’s OK. Shall we say next weekend?”

“Yes, and I’ll bring her down to Boston so you don’t have to come up again. Least I can do,” Rachel says, wondering if Kylie will be back next weekend. If she is and if she’s safe, nothing else will matter. Marty can take her to the damn aquarium every weekend until the end of time.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says, giving her a parting hug. Tammy gives her a kiss on the cheek. In five minutes they are back outside and climbing into their car.

Pete and Rachel wave goodbye from the doorstep, go inside, and close the door.

Five twenty now. So much time wasted. Archery begins at six, and Toby Dunleavy’s walk home begins at seven o’clock.

“They want another twenty-five thousand by midnight or they’ll kill Kylie,” Rachel says, trying to ward off panic.

“I’m already on that,” Pete replies, and she watches as he logs on to a Bitcoin buying site on the dark web.

“What are you going to do?” Rachel asks.

“Fifteen-thousand credit limit on one card, ten-thousand limit on the other, no problem,” Pete says.

“Do you have money in the bank to cover that?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it? Getting Kylie home is all that matters.”

Rachel kisses him on the back of the neck and helps him set up an account and transfer the funds.

“Are you watching the clock?” she asks him.

“Nearly done,” he says. “Get the Dodge warmed up. Make sure the masks and gloves are packed.”

She runs outside, loads the vehicle, puts the key in the ignition, and starts the engine.

It’s five minutes to six now.

“Done,” Pete says when she comes back in. He looks at Helen Dunleavy’s Facebook feed. “She’s on her way to the archery club. We better go too. I’ll get the gun.”

“I don’t want this boy hurt,” Rachel says.

“I don’t think we’ll need to hurt anyone, but we might need to fire a shot in the air to scare off any Good Samaritans. I’ve got a loud Colt .45 that’ll do that,” Pete assures her.

Rachel nods. She thinks of those words,I don’t want this boy hurt.This boy. This boy has a name: Toby. He’s Toby Dunleavy. But it will be easier to think of him asthis boy. An abstract thing. Not a human being. Not a human child. They might need to threatenthis boy. They might, in fact, need to carry out the threat.

She shudders. Pete stares at her.

“All right. Let’s go,” she says.

They get in the Dodge and drive down Route 1 toward Beverly. Traffic is heavier than normal, but they aren’t worried. It’s only a twenty-minute run and they have an hour before archery gets out.

Pete takes her hand and gives it a little squeeze. “Maybe you better call your mother and prep her in case Marty calls looking for Kylie.”

“Good idea,” she says and dials her mother in Florida.

“I’m about to play bridge, what is it?” Judith answers.

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