He seemed to like that, because he smirked. “Okay, girl. I’ll give you that.”
Emboldened, she said, “My name is Alix.”
“Okay, Alix. The thing about belief is that you can’t prove it. You have to ‘believe’ in God, because, hey, the only way you’ll ever find out if you’re right or wrong is after you get cancer and die, right? If the feds shoot me”—he shrugged—“then I’ll know whether God exists. But until then? I’m just guessing.
“With God, people can tell you all kinds of things. Preacher up in the pulpit says he’s real, but he doesn’t know. He’s never met God. So all you got is belief. You make a choice. You believe in God. Or you believe that there’s no god. You believe your mom and your dad when they say they love you. Belief is what you can’t prove—one way or another. Your folks maybe say they love you—but you can’t get inside their heads, can you? You can’t know for sure. You’ve got a theory about them loving you, but you can’t test it.”
“My parents love me.”
“You believe that, huh?”
“All parents love their children,” Alix said.
Moses laughed sharply. “Tell that to Tank. He’s got a row of cigarette burns down his spine that says different.”
Alix swallowed, horrified. “Tank’s the little one, right?”
Moses’s expression softened at the mention of the kid. “Yeah. That’s right. The little one with the crappy lungs.”
“Why’s he with you?”
Moses glanced over, his expression evaluating. “Because sometimes, if you see something bad, you can’t let it stand. Sometimes you see something so bad you know that if you walk away, you’re just as bad.”
The way he said it made Alix feel weirdly uncertain. As if anything she asked after would reveal how posh her life was and how little she understood of the world. As if she were too naive to even be talking about Tank’s life. Finally, she summoned her courage. “So what happened to him?”
“Ask him sometime. He’ll tell you if he wants.”
Whatever brief rapport she’d had with Moses was gone. His expression was back to brick wall.
“Does this mean I’m going to be with you for a while?”
“Depends on you, I guess.”
“Come on. What’s this all about?” Alix asked. “Just tell me. My dad will give you what you want. Is this some kind of ransom thing? You want our money? We aren’t that rich, you know.”
Moses laughed derisively. “Please don’t be one of those one percent kids who says they’re middle class.”
Alix knew better to than to bite on that one. She kept silent.
Moses sat down across from her, watching her speculatively. “You really believe your dad loves you?” he asked.
Alix was about to answer, but then she hesitated. She knew what Moses was getting at, but she suspected that the question was a trap and that he’d twist her answer.
If she said yes, then he’d make her give examples of all the things that were supposed to show that someone loved you, like they gave you candy or kissed you good night or paid your tuition to Seitz… but that didn’t really get to the heart of the question. It wasn’t like Dad had thrown himself in front of a bus for her or anything like that.
So then Moses would force her to settle on the word that he’d already fixated on. Believe. Did she believe her father loved her?
“Yes.”
It felt good to say it firmly, to throw it in his face. She didn’t care. Dad loved her and he was out there, and he and Williams & Crowe and a hundred other people were working overtime to get her back—
Alix suddenly realized what she needed to do. She wasn’t powerless. She might be stuck in a cage, but there was still one thing she could do.
Play for time.
She needed to drag this out as long as possible. She needed to give Dad and Lisa and the FBI and everyone else time. She needed to keep Moses talking.
She didn’t need to win an argument or prove she was smarter than he was, she just needed to drag out the minutes on the clock. Slow Moses down, give Dad time to find her. That was the way she had to fight.
“Yes,” she said again, stronger. “I know he does.”
Instead of challenging her, Moses smiled. “Yeah. I think he loves you, too. And that’s why I believe this is going to work.”
“You believe,” Alix taunted.
Moses grinned. “Bad choice of words, huh?”
“You’re the one who’s so interested in language.”
“Language is how we hack other people’s brains. It’s how we make them see things the way we want them to see them. Your dad should have taught you that, him being so good at PR and all.”
Moses shrugged. “But you’re right about believing things. I don’t actually believe in anything anymore. Belief is for suckers. You can believe the doctors when they say your dad is going to last longer than six months because he’s got new heart medicine…” He shrugged. “I’m done with all that. I’m only interested in testing. Experimenting. You poke the rat, see what it does—”
“Is that what I am, a rat?”
He went on as if she hadn’t interrupted. “—you make a hypothesis. You build a theory, and then you poke the rat and test it. Poke it again, see if you’re right. Change the theory until you can predict what happens in the next experiment. Then you don’t believe something anymore. You know.
“The truth is, I can’t tell whether your dad really loves you, but I’ve got a hypothesis about what he’ll do when you don’t show up at home.”
So do I, Alix thought. So we’re going to have a nice, friendly, long conversation, and see who’s right.
“He’s going to freak,” she said.
“That’s what we’re hoping.”
“And I’m just collateral damage,” Alix said. She reached through the bars for the sandwich on its paper plate.
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“At least I know it’s not personal,” she said as she took a bite. She looked at the sandwich, then at Moses with surprise. “This is really good cheese.”
“You thought I’d feed you Velveeta or something?”
“Aged cheddar doesn’t really go with the decor.” She took another bite and then another. She wanted to control herself, but she couldn’t stop from wolfing down the sandwich. God, I’m starved.
Moses watched her eat. “There’s more where that came from. We’ve got a fridge full of gourmet cheese—Spanish, French, English, German, goat, cow, sheep…”
“Seriously?”
“It’s a long story.”
Alix tapped the bars of her cage meaningfully. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Let’s just say that some of the people in my crew have a soft spot for rats. Enjoy the food.” He made a move to get up. Alix rushed to find something more to talk about. Anything to keep him here and talking—
“Why did you come to my house?” she blurted out. “That night. Why did you come to my house? You could have been caught.”
“By Williams & Crowe?” He shook his head. “No way. Not there at least. I know how they’re set up there.”
“I could have gotten you caught, though. Why come to my house? Was there something that you were looking for? I saw you…” Alix swallowed, remembering how he’d looked at her through the glass, smiling….
“Truce,” Moses murmured, and there was a tiny smile on his face as he remembered, too. He made the T with his hands.
“Truce.” He shook his head, still smiling, and the way he said the word made Alix want it so badly. Some way to not be in conflict. Some way to be safe with him… some way to put down the fight for a little while.