Free No Place to Die by James L. Thane Page A

tearing off two paper towels, folding them in half, and setting them next to the plates. He then reached back into the carton and produced a large pizza box. He opened the box, set it in the middle of the table, and pointed Beverly toward the chair opposite him.
    “Eat up, Beverly. You must be hungry, and it won’t stay hot forever.”
    Without waiting for her response, he pulled a slice of sausage pizza out of the box, dropped it onto his plate, and attacked it with a fork.
    The thought of sitting across the table from the man was repellant, but Beverly had eaten nothing, save for her morning cereal, in over sixteen hours. Reluctantly, she pulled herself off the bed, walked across the room, and sat in the second folding chair.
    McClain pointed at the box. “Help yourself. I didn’t know what you might like, and so I got half sausage and half pepperoni.”
    Beverly, who hadn’t eaten pizza in at least six months, didn’t want either sausage or pepperoni. But opting for the lesser of two evils, she picked up a fork and took a piece of the sausage half. McClain watched her take a bite, then opened one of the Diet Cokes and set it in front of her. “So how was your day, honey?”
    Beverly stopped chewing for a moment, unsure of how to respond and afraid of provoking the man. Then, her rage and frustration momentarily overwhelming her fear and her grief, she swallowed the pizza. Stabbing the air with her fork, she said, “ How was my day? How do you think my day was, you despicable asshole? What sort of sick fucking game do you think you’re playing at here?”
    She held her eyes hard on his, refusing even to givehim the satisfaction of seeing her blink. McClain returned her stare for several long seconds. Then he leaned back in his chair, smiled, and nodded his head. “That’s the spirit,” he said approvingly. “That’s the Beverly we know and love. And as to what sort of ‘fucking game’ I’m playing at, sweetheart, I’m about to give you another demonstration. Finish your dinner first.”
    Beverly set the fork down and pushed the plate away, leaving the slice of pizza unfinished. Looking at the center of the table and not at McClain, she pleaded softly, “Who are you? Please…Why are you doing this to me?”
    McClain waited until she raised her eyes to meet his again. Then he said, “You should goddamn well know the answer to that, Beverly. But the good news is that you’ve got nine more days to figure it out. The bad news is that after that it won’t make a damn bit of difference—not to you, at least.”
    He held her eyes until she looked away again. For the next fifteen minutes she said nothing more as McClain methodically ate several more pieces of pizza and sipped at his Coke. Finally, he pushed his plate away and reached back down into the cardboard box he had set off on the floor next to his chair. He came out with a toothbrush shrink-wrapped in cellophane and a tube of Crest. He set them on the table next to Beverly and said, “Go brush your teeth.”
    Without looking at him, she shook her head slightly. Again in a soft voice, she said, “No.”
    McClain gave her a couple of seconds. Then speaking very quietly and deliberately, he said, “Go brush your teeth, Beverly. If you do not, I will tie you down on the bed again and hurt you in ways that you’ve never imagined, even in your worst nightmares.”
    He waited patiently as she sat there for another full minute. Finally, and still without looking at him, shereached out and picked up the toothbrush and the Crest. Then she got up from the chair and slowly made her way to the bathroom, the cable snaking across the floor behind her.

Chapter Fourteen
    The address in Scottsdale and the Volvo sedan both belonged to a William Desmond. Shortly after seven, Maggie and I rang his doorbell. From inside the house, we heard what sounded like a small child crying, and a few moments later a young woman with a baby at her shoulder opened the door. A little