Her Silent Cry

Forty

The three of them raced downstairs and into the dining room. In the center of the table, Amy’s phone rang. Josie leaned over and looked at the screen. It wasn’t one of Amy’s contacts. She read off the number. “Do you know whose number this is?”

Amy shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“On it,” one of the agents said, tapping away at his laptop.

“You think it’s him?” Amy asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Oaks said.

Colin reached across the table, picked up the phone and answered.

The kidnapper’s voice filled the room, sending a shudder through both parents. “Hello, Colin. I’d like to talk to your loving wife, please.”

Colin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, phone pressed to his ear. “She can’t talk right now. But I can discuss the money with you. Look, I can’t—”

He opened his eyes and looked at Oaks, who shook his head and mouthed the word: how. Earlier, Oaks had told them to answer each of the kidnapper’s demands with a how question. Colin said, “How am I supposed to come up with a million dollars?”

“Put Amy on the phone.”

The agent whispered, “It came in as private. Give me a second to get a name and address.”

Colin said, “How is Amy going to help you? I handle the finances. I can get you eight hundred thousand, but I need proof of life.”

The kidnapper’s voice became even colder. “Put Amy on the phone.”

Colin looked at Oaks who nodded for him to continue. “You want to talk to her, I understand, but we need to talk money first. Like I said, I can come up with most of it, but I need a proof of life.”

“It’s a landline,” the agent whispered. “Registered to Bryce Graham.”

Josie’s head snapped in his direction. “What did you say?” she whispered.

Oaks went over and stood between Amy and Colin. “Detective Quinn told me that you said you didn’t know Bryce Graham. Why is this call coming from his phone?” he asked her quietly, but she wasn’t listening. Her eyes were fixed on Colin, her fingers twisting around themselves against her chest.

On the phone there was a rustling sound. The kidnapper said, “You want a proof of life? I’ll give you a proof of life.”

Josie’s heart halted abruptly then thundered back into motion, beating so hard against her breastbone she was sure everyone else in the room could see her shirt moving. She motioned to Oaks who strode over to her. “Bryce Graham was still at the city park when I left. But the kidnapper is obviously at his home.”

Oaks gazed down at the screen, located Graham’s address and rattled it off to an agent standing by the door. “Get a couple of teams over there now,” he commanded.

The agent nodded and left. Josie said, “I’ll call my team and have them check for Graham in the park.”

“Put him into protective custody,” Oaks told her.

Josie stepped out of the room long enough to call Gretchen and give her some terse instructions. She walked back in and over to Amy, gripping her forearm. “You said you didn’t know Bryce Graham. Why is the kidnapper calling from his home?” she asked but her words were swallowed up by the sound of screaming coming over the line. The sound pierced right through Josie like a spike. Her knees weakened. It was a girl. Young. Her voice high-pitched. No words. Just the soul-crushing sound of a small child’s terror punctuated by the kidnapper hollering, “Here’s your proof of life, you smug bastard. Is this what you want? Is this it?”

Amy flew at her husband and used both hands to tear the phone from Colin’s grip. “Stop,” she shrieked. “Stop! Stop! I’m here. I’m listening. Just stop. Leave her alone! Leave Lucy alone. Please.”

The sound stopped abruptly but Josie could hear the sounds of faint whimpering between the kidnapper’s words. “You tell him to stay off the line, Amy.”

Colin fell to his knees, his face ashen. For a moment, Josie thought he might vomit.

“He’s off the line,” Amy said. “I promise. You can talk to me. Just stop what you’re doing to Lucy. Tell me what to do.”

“A million dollars.”

“Yes.”

Oaks’s chin dropped to his chest.

Amy turned away from him, clutching the phone with both hands against the side of her face. Her chest heaved as she waited for more instructions.

“You’ll split it up. In half.”

“In half,” Amy repeated.

In the background, Lucy’s whimpers faded.

“You’ll go to Walmart and buy two waterproof duffel bags. They have to be waterproof, do you understand?”

“Waterproof, yes,” Amy breathed.

“You’ll put half the money in each bag.”

“Five hundred thousand in each bag, okay,” Amy said.

“Be ready by six-thirty tomorrow evening.”

“We’ll be ready. What do I have to do?”

The line went dead.

Amy pulled the phone away from her face and stared at it in disbelief. She put it back to her ear. “Hello? Hello? Are you there? Where do we take the money? Hello? What do we do? What do we do with the money?”

“He hung up,” said one of the agents stationed at his laptop.

“No!” Amy screamed. “No, no, no!”