Page 80 of The Midnight Knock

Ryan’s head snapped up. “How doyouknow that?”

Ethan blinked. “I-I’m not sure.”

Ryan finished tying knots. He left a few more lengths dangling over his neck, ready for use once they got the big man moved. He didn’t know what to make of this kid, he really didn’t.

He asked Ethan, “You want his arms or his legs?”

In the supply room, Ethan helped Ryan ease Stanley into the chair. Stanley snorted, coughed: he was starting to wake up. Ryan worked quickly, undoing the knots he’d made earlier, pulling Stanley’s arms behind his back, tying his hands and ankles to the legs of the chair.

While Ryan worked, Ethan said, “Where’s that girl, Penelope?”

Ryan didn’t look up from his work. “A fantastic question.”

“Aren’t you worried about her?”

“I’m worried about everything.”

“I’m surprised you’re bothering with this jerk when you could be looking for her. Who cares who killed Sarah? There’s worse going on here than just a murder.”

That made Ryan glance over his shoulder. “Like what?”

Ethan touched his forehead. “I don’t know. It’s just… this feeling I’ve got.”

“Yeah. I feel it too.”

“So why don’t you find your stepdaughter and get somewhere safe?”

“Because I don’t think thereisanywhere safe.”

Ethan said nothing. Ryan wondered if the boy had picked up the tension in his voice, the way he didn’t quite want to meet the question. In truth, Ryan wasn’t looking for Penelope because he wanted to keep her out of this mess as much as possible. The longer Ryan considered the timeline of the night’s events, the more he suspected that Penelope might be more involved than he would ever want to admit.

Ryan changed tack. He asked Ethan, “How’s your head?”

“It hurts.”

“You want a cigarette? They helped your man.”

“I’m good.” He hesitated. “I guess I’ll just go back to my room.”

Ryan gestured to Stanley. He grinned. “Want to get in a few punches before you go? It’s only fair.”

ASHRIEKcut through the desert. Ethan shivered. He looked, suddenly, exhausted.

“Knock yourself out,” he said, and headed out the door.

Alone at last with Stanley Holiday, Ryan propped himself against one of the supply room’s shelves and pulled his menthols from the pocket of his jacket. He clicked his Zippo, caught the paper, took a drag. He studied the big man in front of him, the man who’d cost Ryan three years of his life to the worst prison in Texas. He watched the way Stanley’s face twitched in the light.

Ryan thought of Jessica, pressed against his chest.Promise you’ll take care of the girls if anything goes wrong.

Are you afraid somethingwillgo wrong?

Just promise you’ll get Polly and Adeline out of here.

For three long years, Ryan had thought about that conversation. Thought about all that it could mean.

Stanley, at last, opened his eyes. He sniffed the air, made a show of coughing. “Christ—you’re still smoking those things?”

“You knew she was going to the feds, didn’t you?”