“Who are you?” Gabrielle repeated coldly.
“Zach Reed. How do we get out of here?”
Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.
“We can’t. Mr. Jenkins has got everything locked up.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Jenkins.” Gabrielle pointed at the ceiling.
“Well don’t worry, that doof is not going to hurt us!”
Danny started to whimper. “Can you take me home, now?I want to go home.”
Zach put his arm around him. “Don’t worry, Danny. It’sgoing to be okay. I’m gonna fix it so somebody comes for us.”
Garbage covered the floor — fast food bags, wrappers,and containers. The basement’s only window was barred and covered withnewspapers. Zach noticed the door was wide open.
“Where are we Gabrielle? San Francisco? You know whatstreet?”
Gabrielle shrugged.
“And are there any other people here?
“Just Mr. Jenkins. My dog Jackson was here, but Mr.Jenkins said he ran away. Did you see him? He’s a blond cocker spaniel.”
“No.”
Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.
Gabrielle burst into tears, triggering Danny’s sobs.
Zach didn’t know what to do, so he hugged both ofthem, fighting his own tears. “It’s gonna be fine. Shhh-shhhh. It’s okay.”
“He’s a crazy man!” Gabrielle sobbed. “He killed a ratand he’s always praying to us on his knees! He calls us by other kids’ names,shows us old movies of them and makes us wear their old clothes! I’m so afraid!We tried to run away, but he’s got us locked up, and he keeps making ussleepy!”
“Does he hurt you?”
“Gabrielle shook her head. “He just baptizes you.”
“What?”
“You’re going to get it soon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He puts you in the tub and dunks your head. Afterthat, he starts to call you by another kid’s name. He told us you’re the lastone he was looking for.”
“The last what?”
“Angel.”
Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.
Zach saw the door and thought. “Does he always leavethe door open?”
“Uh-huh. So we can go upstairs to the bathroom.”
Zach looked around for something, anything that mighthelp him try to escape. He was surprised to see a corner of his backpackprotruding from the stinking garbage. He fished it out.
The creep had never touched it. Zach dumped thecontents, grabbed his father’s business card, his cash, his portable videogame, then his tiny Swiss army knife. He opened it and ran his finger over thethree-inch, razor-sharp blade. He folded it and stuffed it in the crotch of hisunderwear. Bad guys always frisked you, but a guy never checked another guythere. He was not supposed to. It was like a world rule, or something.
“Does this house have a phone, Gabrielle?” Zach said.
“In the kitchen, on the wall.”
Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.
“All right.” Zach glanced at the ceiling and sniffed.“I’ve got a plan to get us outta here.”
SIXTY-NINE
Reed pushed his way through the throng of reporters, photographers, and TV crews waiting inthe lobby of the ancient fourteen-story Star Building in downtown SanFrancisco.
“Reed, is it true you know the kidnapper from a story?
This was real. It was happening.
“Has there been a ransom demand?”
Something was roaring in his ears.
“Did this guy take your son because you weresuspicious he abducted Danny Becker and Gabrielle Nunn?”
He couldn’t concentrate clearly.
“Any connection to the Donner case and Virgil Shook?”
His only thought was of his son.
“Can we have a picture of Zach?”
“I can’t talk now,” Reed managed.
Cameras flashed and TV lights burned as he shoulderedhis way in. Sydowski, Turgeon, Rust, and a half-dozen other police, shieldshanging from pickets and neck chains, surrounded him, ensuring no one else goton the elevator with them. It was closing when a security officer wedged hisarm between the doors.
“What the hell you doing, Butch?” Reed demanded.
The plump, gray-haired guard felt the hard glare ofthe detectives and he cleared his throat. “Uhmm, sorry, Tom. But orders are thatyou’ve been terminated. Barred from the building. Mr. Benson’s orders.”
“Back off,” Sydowski growled.
“Just doing my job. Good luck, Tom.” Butch saluted.
As Reed and the police swept through the newsroom,heads snapped around, conversations stopped and people gaped. By now, theentire department knew Zach had been abducted. And everyone knew Reed had beenfired.
He hurried to his desk, whispers following his wake.
His only crystalline thought was for Zach. Finding hisson. Ann was right. It was his fault, and if it was the last thing he did, hewould find Zach. Alive. Nobody would stand in his way. Every molecule of hisbeing was focused on his son.
Everything remained on Reed’s desk exactly the way heleft it yesterday when he was still employed. He rifled his paperwork: hisyellow file on Keller was gone. Sydowski and the others encircled his cubicleas he searched in vain.
“It was right here, a yellow legal-size folder!”
“Tom?” Molly Wilson materialized, her teary voicethickening. “I know everything. What Benson did. Zach. I’m so sorry, Tom.”
“I need help, not sympathy, Molly. Where’s my Kellerfile?”
“I’ll help you, Tom.” She sniffled, eyes going toBenson’s office. He was on the phone, reading from a yellow file folder. “I’llhelp you right now!” Wilson ran off, bracelets chiming.
Reed burst into Benson’s office, snatched the Kellerfile, and returned to his desk to show Sydowski and the others.
Benson leapt after him. “What do you think you’redoing, Reed?” Benson grabbed the file back.
“Give me that file, Benson!” Reed spat.
“Tom, I’m terribly sorry about what’s happened.Really. But you have to calm down and think rationally. This file is theproperty of the newspaper and you, as a former employee, are trespassing.”
“What?” Reed was incredulous. “What did you say?”
“I’m afraid the only way to take this file is with awarrant.”
Sydowski said, “We’ll get one right away. Linda.”
Turgeon picked up a phone. “What number to get out?”
“Nine,” someone said.
FBI Special Agent Ditmire rolled his eyes. “I don’t believethis. This is a hot pursuit. Can’t we charge this man with obstruction, Merle?”
Reed thrust his face to within an inch of Benson’s.“The clock is ticking on my son’s life! If you don’t give me that file now, itstarts ticking on yours.”
Benson blinked.
Reed continued. “Give me that file now or I hold anews conference outside and every parent in the Bay Area will know what MyronBenson at the Star is doing! Then I’ll join the Beckers and Nunns to sueyou for the wrongful deaths of our children.”
“Myron, give Tom his file, now.” It was Amos Tellwood,the publisher. Molly Wilson stood beside him. Newsroom activity ceased.
“I’ve just been fully enlightened. Tom, you have thepaper’s unbounded support.” Tellwood turned to Sydowski. “I am the publisher andyou have full access to anything we have that will expedite finding Tom’s son.We shall not lose another second debating it. Tom, you remain a Staremployee. Myron, in my office. Now.”
Reed opened the folder. Sydowski and the others tooknotes, and went off to the telephones. Tom told Sydowski and the others aboutKeller’s pilgrimages to the drowning spot at the Farallons. Sydowski told himKeller had bought a boat.
The hunt for Zach Reed, Gabrielle Nunn, and DannyBecker intensified. The FBI double checked with the US Coast Guard. Yes, theFarallons had been sealed. And the FBI and California Highway Patrol each putchoppers up, searching for a new white van, possibly with rental plates, oranything trailing a boat like the one Keller had bought in Calaveras County.They had a team of police at Half Moon Bay, and alerts to all marinas.