We were both quiet for a moment. I moved closer to Trevor, forced him up against the side of the Camry again. I leaned in.

“Trevor, I want you to be very straight with me. Did you have anything to do with this?”

“What?”

“Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did, I swear to God …” I felt my fist forming again. “Do you know who took Angie away?”

“Are you kidding? Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you have any idea what Angie means to me?”

“No,” I said. “Suppose you tell me.”

Almost whispering. “I love her. It’s like I told you, about how certain people are meant to be together. That was supposed to be us. And I let them take her away! I wasn’t able to do anything about it!” And he began to weep.

I took in a few breaths of night air, looked at the cell phone in my hand. Could I really believe this story, that if I called 911, somehow Angie’s abductors would find out? Isn’t that what any crook might say to keep you from doing the sensible thing? Come up with a bullshit story like that?

But then, what if it was true?

Either way, I was gambling with Angie’s life. Wasn’t it better to gamble with the cops on your side? Didn’t that improve your odds?

“Don’t do it,” Trevor said, seeing me stare at the phone and reading my mind. “Don’t do it, Mr. Walker. They had me convinced. I don’t want them to kill Angie.”

I looked up at the stars, as if hoping for some sort of divine guidance. “Trevor, is there anything you’re not telling me? Anything else I need to know?”

“I could help you,” he said. “I could help you get the car to them. I could help you get Angie back.”

Somehow, I felt I’d benefit from more professional assistance.

“I don’t think so, Trevor. You need to get out of here, go home, get someone to take care of that head of yours. You need to—”

And the cell phone in my hand rang.

I pressed the Send button. “Yes?” I said.

“Hi, Daddy.” I could hear driving sounds in the background, tires humming on pavement.

“Angie! Angie, are you okay? Where are you?”

“Daddy, they want to talk to you.”

I heard the phone being moved about, then another voice.

“Mr. Walker,” a man said.

“Yeah.”

The man coughed, cleared his throat. “We need to arrange an exchange.”

Chapter 28

28

“Whatever you want, it’s yours,” I said. “I just want my daughter back.”

“That’s the spirit,” the man said. He coughed again, and hearing that, along with his voice, I was reminded of the man Stan had confronted at the auction.