Free Two Little Girls in Blue by Mary Higgins Clark Page A

okay,” Angie snapped. Now what do I do? she wondered. That jerk Lucas is getting here soon, and I was told to leave the kids in their pajamas all day. Maybe if I just pin a towel under the wet part, it’ll dry.
    â€œShush,” she said impatiently as she picked up Kathy. The sopping pajama top dampened her own shirt as she carried her into the bedroom. Kelly got down from the chair and walked beside them, her hand reaching up to pat her sister’s foot.
    Angie put Kathy in the crib and grabbed a towelfrom the top of the dresser. By the time she pinned it under the pajama top, Kathy had folded herself into a ball and was sucking her thumb. That was something new, Angie thought as she picked up Kelly and dropped her into the crib.
    Kelly immediately struggled to her feet and put her hands tightly around the railing. “We want to go home now,” she said. “You promised.”
    â€œYou’re going home tonight,” Angie said. “So shut up.”
    The shades were pulled all the way down in the bedroom. Angie started to raise one of them but then changed her mind. If I keep it dark, the kids might fall asleep, she decided. She went back to the kitchen, slamming the door behind her as a warning to Kelly not to cause trouble. Last night when the kid had started to rock the crib, a good pinch on her arm had taught her it wasn’t a good idea.
    Clint was still watching the television. Angie began to clear the table. “Pick up those Barney tapes,” she ordered him as she dumped dishes in the sink. “Put them in the box with the typewriter.”
    The Pied Piper, whoever he was, had ordered Lucas to dump in the ocean anything they had that could be connected to the kidnapping. “He means the typewriter that we used for the ransom note, any clothes or toys or sheets or blankets that might have their DNA on them,” Lucas had told Clint.
    None of them know how well that fits in with my plans, Angie thought.
    â€œAngie, this box is too big,” Clint protested. “It’ll be hard for Lucas to dump it.”
    â€œIt’s not too big,” she snapped. “I’m putting the vaporizer in it. Okay? Okay?”
    â€œToo bad we can’t put the crib in it.”
    â€œWhen we drop off the kids, you can come back here and take it apart. Tomorrow you get rid of it.”
    Two hours later, she was prepared for Lucas’s explosive reaction when he caught sight of the box. “Couldn’t you have found a smaller one?” he barked.
    â€œSure, I could have. I could even have gone to the grocery store and explain why I wanted one and what I’d put in it. This one was in the cellar. It will do the job, okay?”
    â€œAngie, I think we have smaller boxes downstairs,” Clint volunteered.
    â€œI sealed and tied this box,” Angie shouted. “This is it.”
    A minute later, she watched with intense satisfaction as Lucas carried the heavy, bulky box to his car.

22

    L ila Jackson, a sales clerk at Abby’s Quality Discount on Route 7, had become something of a celebrity to her family and friends. She had been the one to sell the twins’ blue velvet dresses to Margaret Frawley two days before the kidnapping.
    Thirty-four years old, small of stature, and bustling with energy, Lila had recently quit her well-paid secretarial job in Manhattan, moved in with her widowed mother, and taken the job at Abby’s. As she explained to her astonished friends, “I realized that I hated sitting at a desk, and the most fun I’d ever had working was when I did part-time at Bloomingdale’s. I love clothes. I love selling them. As soon as I can do it, I’m going to open my own place.” To that end, she was taking business courses at the community college.
    The day the news of the kidnapping broke, Lila had recognized both Margaret and the dresses the kidnapped twins were wearing in the picture she saw on television.
    â€œShe