Page 119 of Gone Tonight
James knows I’m his daughter.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWORUTH
My lungs burn as I tear around the corner of Sunrise. I’m within sight of the entrance now. It’s less than fifty yards away.
Then the world tilts beneath my feet. I skid to a stop.
James is stepping out of the front doors, very close to Catherine, his arm pressing against her back.
Time shudders to a halt. I can’t breathe.
I watch as they move together down the paved walkway, into the parking lot.
My deepest fear has arisen.
A silent scream fills my throat as my vision tunnels to focus only on my daughter and the man with her.
How did he find us?
James is far too close to Catherine, and he seems to be holding something against her back. I can’t tell for sure, but from the angle of his hand I suspect it’s a gun.
My legs begin to move, propelling me toward them. I walk slowly, as soundlessly as possible, using cars as shields.
Catherine stumbles, and James grabs her arm with his free hand, roughly jerking her upright. She releases a small, high-pitched sound.
Fury mingles with my terror. I want to claw off James’s face. I slidemy hand into my purse and pull out my knife and car keys, then ease my purse to the ground and leave it there. I don’t want anything to encumber my movements.
I cannot let James get her into a vehicle. If he does, she may be gone forever.
It’s too late to call the police. Even if they arrived in time, sirens blaring, Catherine could be caught in the cross fire if James starts shooting.
James has nothing to lose right now. If the thought of him and me being together sustained him during his prison sentence, he knows now his fantasy was no more substantial than a fever dream.
The parking lot is well lit close to the Sunrise entrance, but shadows nibble at its corners. At this time of night, no one else is around.
I ease nearer to James and Catherine, ducking my head low as they move toward the far end of the lot. I watch through the clear window of the Sunrise van as James turns around and checks behind him, then resumes walking.
I look back, too. No one is coming. The three of us are alone in the parking lot, but James hasn’t seen me yet.
Strength is pouring into my body in equal proportion to every ounce of love I have for my daughter. My senses are sharpening, and my vision is expanding. I’m aware of the flickering bulb in an overhead light, the sliver of moon in the sky, and the faint chirping of crickets. Through it all, my gaze never leaves Catherine.
Catherine and James are nearing the Bonneville, but James may not know it’s our car.
If I could slip inside and drive toward them, and Catherine manages to dive out of the way, I could run James over.
I can’t risk it, though. A bullet is faster than a speeding car.
They’ve stopped moving.
I draw as close as I dare, aided by darkness, until I can hear their voices. I’m concealed behind a Buick now, less than ten feet away.
“Call her,” James orders.
“What do you want me to say?” Catherine asks.
“Whatever it takes to get her here.”
A plan forms in my mind: My phone is inside my purse, which I dropped. I can’t remember if it’s on vibrate or not. If Catherine calls and it rings, will the sound carry and distract James long enough to give me a chance?
