He chuckles darkly. “Having yourself an interesting day, aren’t you, Erika?”
He knows. Of course he knows. He’s a detective. “Yes. I have.”
“Well, I finally understand why you were trying to scare off all those girls.”
My jaw twitches. This is not a time for jokes. “Did you get that address for me on Marvin Holick?”
“Yeah. I got it. Nice guy.” There’s an edge of sarcasm in his voice. “Like grandfather, like grandson.”
I want to slam the phone down and never call Frank Marino ever again. But more than that, I want to find my father. He could be the answer to everything. “What’s the address?”
He recites it for me and I scribble it down on a piece of paper on my nightstand. He lives in Queens, probably less than an hour's drive from here. Really, right around the corner. I could pop over to see him tonight, if I wanted.
Maybe I should.
I wonder what Marvin Holick will say when I show up at his door.
Chapter Fifty-One
OLIVIA
Iam absolutelyexhausted. I have spent the better part of the day hammering away at the trap door. My arms are aching, and I’m not even sure I’ve made any progress. At one point, I was sure the wood was splintering, but then when I felt it with my fingers, it was intact. Of course, it’s hard to know for sure because I can’t see a damn thing.
I also finished the last of my food and drink today. I was trying to hold out, but I was so desperately hungry and thirsty after all the work I did. Before I knew it, everything was gone.
I have no food. No drink. Nothing.
The worst part is I have devoured every morsel there is to eat, but my stomach still feels completely empty. There’s a dull ache in the center of my chest. I feel like I don’t have the energy to move, much less go back to hammering at the trap door.
But it’s my only hope.
Well, that’s not true. The police might find me. As I lie in one corner of my cell, trying to ignore the ache of emptiness in my belly, I imagine what it will be like when the police storm in here. They’ll find me and bring me back to my family. And best of all, they’ll punishhim. My parents will never give up on me. They’ll keep looking until they find me. Iknowit.
I don’t know what time it is when I hear the footsteps. I’ve lost all track of time, but that slice of light is gone, which means it must be dark out. I know in my heart that it’s probably him, but just in case it’s not, I scream out, “Help! Help me please! I’m down here!”
It happens just the way it did last time. I hear the locks turning and the flashlight blinding me. It occurs to me that if I had spent my time building the mound higher instead of pounding on the lock, I might have been able to be ready to jump at him when he opened the trap door.
Damn. It’s too late now.
“Olivia,” he says. “How are you doing?”
“Awful,” I spit at him. “I’m starving. I need food. And water.”
“Yes,” he says patiently. “People need water to live. Did you know that a person can survive only three to five days without water? Without water, your organs will eventually start to fail and your brain will swell up. Butpeople can survive longer without food. Weeks. Your body will break down excess fat, and when that’s gone, it will break down muscle. Your body will effectively consume itself.”
I blink up at him, trying to ignore the shooting headache that resulted from the flashlight in my eyes. There’s a look of fascination on his face as he recites these facts. Like I’m some sort of rat in a science experiment.
“How does it feel, Olivia?”
My hunger and thirst evolve into anger. I am not a science experiment. I am a human being. And I’m not going to play his perverted game. “Fuck you.”
My anger only seems to amuse him though, just as my threats did. “Just tell me. How does it feel to be starving to death?”
“Go to hell.”
He reaches into a paper bag next to him. I hear the crackling of paper, and then his hand emerges from the bag. At first, I think he’s going to point a gun at me. But it’s not a gun. It’s a piece of bread.
He grins at me. “Tell me how you feel and I’ll give you this bread.”
