Page 162 of Cold, Cold Bones
I’m not good at waiting. I’m especially not good when anxious for a child. For my daughter. For anyone defenseless against the violence of another.
Blood thundered in my ears. Sweat rolled down my back.
Finally, a thumbs-up.
“Flip the goddam thing!” Slidell ordered.
Using their blades, two diggers found a gap opposite the hinges, and levered hard. The planks flew back and landed with a softwhump. The sun was low now, sending little light into the freshly revealed wound in the earth.
Maglites came on, their beams arrowing through the subterranean gloom. The illumination exposed a pit maybe eight feet square, roughly hewn beams, a hard-packed floor, three dirt walls. The fourth side opened onto hollow blackness.
“There. A ladder. On the floor.” Pitluck had her light focused on an object against the east wall.
“Someone get down and set the fucking thing up,” Slidell commanded.
Ryan moved toward the pit.
“Not you.” Skinny pointed to Sackler/Stickler. “You.”
Sackler/Stickler reattached his flash to his belt, crouched and jumped. Another cop joined him. Together they propped and steadied the ladder.
One facet of Slidell never changes. He turned to me and said exactly what I thought he’d say. Or at least a variation of what I expected.
“You leave this spot, your ass goes to jail. Got it?”
Wanting no delay in Olivia’s rescue, if she was down there, I didn’t argue.
So, I waited, pacing and gnawing my own flesh. As before, willing Ryan to emerge with Olivia’s tiny arms circling his neck.
A lifetime later a man emerged, a redheaded girl pressed to his chest, her thin wrists blanched with the effort of grasping each other.
The girl was Olivia Lakin.
The man was Bobby Karl Kramden.
As Slidell closed in tight behind Kramden, the others scrabbled from the pit and surrounded them. I saw tense readiness, but no drawn weapons.
Stone-jawed, Slidell looked to me, then tipped his head toward Kramden.
Shocked that Sackler/Stickler and the other uniform had left Olivia with her captor, and not wanting to alarm the child, I approached carrying one of those stuffed bears cops keep in cruisers for such occasions. Smiling, I moved in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.
“Hi, Olivia,” I ventured, Mary Poppins cheery. “We’ve been looking for you.”
Olivia tightened her hold on Kramden. Tears ran down both her cheeks, and one of his.
“I have someone who’d like to meet you.” Waggling the bear.
Jesus! Was I blowing this? Was a stuffed animal an insult to a preteen?
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re with us, now.” I spread my arms and took a few steps closer.
Olivia squeezed her eyes tight and buried her face in Kramden’s shirt.
“Your mom can’t wait to see you. She’s missed you so much.”
Olivia’s body tensed into a knot.
“That’s it. We’re done with this horseshit.” Slidell cocked a thumb at Pitluck. “You. Help the doc.”
