“I want to know who—”
“Put your wife on the phone now, asshole! I’ve got a gun pointed at Amelia’s head!” she yells.
A second later Helen comes back on. “I’m sorry—”
“You will be sorry, you stupid bitch. Do what you’re supposed to or you’ll never see Amelia again. Once you have a list of targets, send it to the contact on Wickr for final approval,” Rachel snarls, and she hangs up.
She removes the SIM card and smashes it and the phone on the kitchen floor. She puts the broken phone in the garbage bag.
A few minutes later, she mirrors the Dunleavys’ home computer on Pete’s laptop and sees, sure enough, that they are trawling through Facebook feeds and Instagram accounts. Yup, that’s how you do it in this day and age.
Pete comes upstairs. “News?”
“They paid the ransom.”
“They could afford it. It’s the second part…”
“Yeah. How’s our girl?”
“She’s OK. Still watching Disney movies. I promised to play Operation with her later.”
Rachel nods absently.
“Look, Rach, you can go home, I’ll be OK here,” Pete says.
“No, I’m staying the night with Amelia,” Rachel insists.
“She asked me to stay tonight, not you,” he says gently.
“Why’s that?”
“She’s scared of you.”
“Oh.”
“It’s better if I stay. I’m used to roughing it. Sleeping bag on the floor is no problem.”
Rachel nods. “I guess that’s the way it is, then.”
“I guess.”
They stare at each other and say nothing. Rachel observes him. She knows that something is amiss but cannot put her finger on it. Something to do with that bag of what might have been drugs?
“You’re OK, aren’t you, Pete?” Rachel asks.
“I’m fine,” he says.
“I’m really relying on you,” she says.
“I’m fine. Trust me,” he says.
Pete knows that she knows. It’s time for him to cook up again. He needs it. His body craves it. He had thought he might use this experience as a way to force himself to quit, but it isn’t that simple. There’s a reason it’s called a fix.
Finally Rachel stands. “Call me,” she says.
“I will.”
She gives him a sad little wave goodbye and goes out.