Marlene’s eyes glittered. Yeah, he thought. She’d known.
‘Sex slaves,’ Stephanie said, her whisper toneless.
He glanced at the young woman. Stephanie hadn’t known. ‘If that’s what you’d like to call it, sure. But I rarely get specimens as nice as you.’
Her swallow was audible. ‘If I tell you, will you let me go?’
‘Don’t say a word,’ Chip said from behind clenched teeth. ‘He won’t let you go. He’s lying to you. You’ve seen his face. He’s not letting any of us go.’
Without breaking eye contact with Stephanie, Ken backhanded Chip, sending his chair crashing to the floor. ‘You don’t give any orders here, Anders,’ he said coldly, still looking only at Stephanie. ‘Now, my dear, I can make your future home more hospitable or less hospitable, depending on what you tell me.’
Stephanie stared at the crumpled form of her father, confusion warring with the fear in her eyes. But as the seconds ticked by, something new began to flicker around the fear. Understanding and wary calculation replaced the confusion, as if she’d suddenly comprehended her situation and was searching for a way out. ‘I . . . don’t . . . What was the question?’
Ken saw the reply for what it was – a stall tactic – and had to admit a certain admiration for the girl. But her father couldn’t see her face, hadn’t realized she’d grasped their reality.
Chip moaned. ‘Just . . . hold on, baby. If you tell him what he wants now, he’ll kill us all. Or worse. Just wait. She’ll . . . tell.’
Ken watched Marlene and Stephanie exchange quick glances. Marlene’s was harsh. Commanding. Stephanie’s was wide-eyed. But even less terrified.
Ken’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who will tell . . . what?’
Stephanie closed her eyes. Pursed her lips. Her shoulders squared.
Ken’s rage exploded. ‘Who will tell?’ he shouted.
‘Go to hell,’ Chip moaned.
Ken spun on one heel, grabbed a knife from his cart, and pressed the tip to Marlene’s carotid. ‘I will cut her fucking throat, Chip.’ He gripped Stephanie’s chin and forced her face toward her mother. ‘Open your eyes, Stephanie. Open your eyes or your mother dies. Now!’
Stephanie’s eyes opened, then filled with fear anew as her gaze locked on the drop of blood slowly rolling down her mother’s throat. ‘No. No. Don’t kill her. Please don’t kill her. I’ll talk. I promise I’ll talk.’
‘Who is the she that’s going to tell?’ Ken demanded.
‘Our servants,’ Stephanie spat. ‘I let them go. Mila and her daughter Erica. They’ll go to the police.’
She’s lying. But about exactly what, Ken wasn’t sure. ‘Why?’
Stephanie frowned. ‘Why . . . what?’
Ken had to chuckle. ‘Oh, some sheik is going to pay dearly for the privilege of taming you. You’ve got a quick mind, Stephanie darling.’ He dragged the tip of the knife down Marlene’s jaw, drawing a new line of crimson. ‘But it won’t work, sweetheart. So come clean, or I will kill her.’
‘I’m not lying,’ Stephanie insisted hoarsely.
Ken smiled at her. ‘All right then. So why did you let the servants go?’
‘To create a distraction.’ She clenched her teeth. ‘I’m sorry, Daddy.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Ken said, feigning bewilderment. He hadn’t believed a word she’d said. ‘Why would you want to create a distraction?’
‘Because my father was angry with me. He was threatening to hurt me because I’d taken Tala out last night. Now please take the knife off my mother’s throat.’
‘I’ll decide when I’ll take the knife away, sweetheart.’ He pressed it a little harder, just to hear Marlene’s panicked whimper. ‘Why did you take Tala out?’
Stephanie’s throat worked frantically. ‘I . . . I’m not . . .’ Her eyes scrunched shut. ‘You’re making me too scared to think.’
‘That’s the point, Stephanie darling.’ He stepped back, deciding to trade the knife for the wired electrodes. He didn’t want to get too angry and accidentally kill Marlene too soon. ‘That is exactly the point. I have questions, but you’re still thinking too much about keeping your lies straight and not enough about giving me the truth.’ He twisted the cap off a bottle of water from the cart and poured it liberally over Marlene’s head, just smiling when she glared at him. Then he snapped the alligator clips to her ear lobes, squeezing to make sure she felt the maximum pain. ‘This device has four settings. This is level one.’
He turned it on, enjoying Marlene’s muffled screeching, the arching of her back, her unintelligible begging for the pain to stop. After a minute he turned it off, gratified when Marlene’s shoulders sagged. Her eyes wore a glazed look.
‘That was level one, Stephanie. Think about it for a few minutes, won’t you?’
Ken stepped away and jogged up the stairs to the first-floor foyer. ‘Decker!’ he called, walking to the base of one of the twin spiral staircases that made his family home unique.
Decker appeared at the top of the stairs, his latex gloves covered in blood. ‘Yes, sir?’ ‘Did you find signs of anyone else at the Anders house?’
Decker frowned. ‘No. No one. We swept every room, looking for the missing workers. There was a spare bedroom that appeared to have been used recently, but Mrs Anders swore that’s where their dog handler slept when she visited.’
‘Dog handler?’
‘Yes, sir. Mrs Anders owns a champion poodle. The large size, sir,’ Decker clarified when Ken’s face twisted in a grimace of contempt. ‘Not one of those yappy little ones. There were photos of the dog on the walls in their living room, and lots of ribbons and trophies. The dog was not in the home at the time we were. I checked the closets and under the beds to be sure. I didn’t want barking to call attention to the house if someone walked by. I checked Mrs Anders’s calendar. The next three weekends were blocked out for dog shows – all in the Midwest, within a day’s driving distance. I don’t know if the handler keeps the dog for the next three weeks or brings it home in between shows.’
It was possible that this handler was the ‘she’ Chip had mentioned, but only if the woman was coming back soon. Or if she called in to give updates on the dog and became suspicious about Marlene’s absence. Maybe what she was going to tell – to the police, presumably – was that the Anderses were missing.
‘Okay,’ he said to Decker. ‘When you’re done stitching up the wounded guard, go back to Anders’s house and make sure there is still no one there. Then go to the office and continue listening to the audio files recorded from the trackers. Start with the murdered one, then listen to the two escapees.’
Decker raised a brow. ‘You don’t want me to come downstairs and help with the heavy lifting?’
‘I think I can handle it.’
Ken wandered back to the basement, only to find that Marlene had recovered from her treatment and was glaring at him again. He grabbed the twine still noosed around her neck and pulled it taut until it rubbed raw against the wound he’d made with the knife. ‘I have a feeling that you are going to be the key to me getting the answers I want, Mrs Anders. I have absolutely no compunction about putting marks on you, but we can play with the electricity for a little longer.’
He let her go, then turned to Stephanie. ‘Let’s begin again, shall we?’
Thirteen
Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 10.45 A.M.
Scarlett blinked hard. The chair in Marcus’s office felt far too soft and comfortable. It had old-fashioned wings that were slightly padded, perfect for a person to lean their head against for a nap. But right now you aren’t that person. She gave her head a hard shake. Stay awake, Scar.