by John Locke
“Baby, I know at one time you loved me with all your heart. If there’s still a spark inside you that wants me, I’d like the chance to live. I won’t beg you, but I’d like to think my husband feels I’m worth saving. If you feel differently, I hope you know that I have always loved you and always will.”
She removes her wedding ring, kisses it, puts it back on her finger, presses her lips together, and nods. When she nods, I see tears spill from her eyes. She moves back to her spot against the far wall but remains standing.
The voice says, “Karen, Rachel took twelve extra seconds. You can have the same.”
Karen is wearing white thresher-cut jeans that have a pale blue tie-dye pattern running through them. She has on a matching blue tube top and blue strappy sandals with stiletto heels. Like Rachel, Karen moves to the closest point of her cubicle so she can look into my eyes. She says, “Sam, I hate them for putting you in this position. I’m not happy you didn’t tell me about being married, but I love you. I love you, Sam, and I’m sure you didn’t consider yourself married in your heart when you were with me. I never would have gone out with you if you’d told me, and that’s probably why you decided not to. But we did go out, and I fell in love with you, and that hasn’t changed.
“I don’t want your wife to die, I swear to God I don’t. But if it has to be one of us, wouldn’t it be better to choose the one that represents your future instead of your past? She’s had her chance. If she’d treated you the way you deserve, you never would have strayed in the first place.
“I don’t want her to die, Sam. I do not want her to die. But I don’t want to die either. You and I still have a chance to build a life together. I don’t know if your wife wants children or not, but you told me that you do. And I do too, but not until you’re ready. Because until you’re ready for children, you’ve got every inch of this …”
She quickly begins removing her clothes and doesn’t stop until she is completely naked, save for the stiletto sandals. Then she says, “Sam, this is yours. It’s yours whenever you want it. I swear to God I will make you the happiest man who ever lived. Please choose me. Please, Sam, I’m begging you, begging you to spare my life—so I can give it to you.”
Karen stood at the glass, legs shoulder-length apart, arms out to either side, like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, except that Karen looks a million times hotter than the guy in the drawing.
The voice says, “Sam, you’ve got a tough decision to make. But it’s time.”
I say, “You can’t expect me to do this. It’s inhuman.”
“Sam, you shouldn’t look at it like you’re causing a death. Because what you’re really doing is saving a life. Unfortunately, if you don’t make a choice between your wife and mistress in the next ten seconds, we’re going to kill them both. Shall I begin the countdown?”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let it out completely, along with my soul.
“Not necessary,” I say. “I’ve made my decision.”
Chapter 27
I look at Karen. Though she’s been through a lot, I doubt she’s ever looked so beautiful.
“Karen,” I say, “I’m sorry. For everything.”
Her face falls. She starts crying. Loudly at first, but then she nods her head, resigning herself to her fate. She cries softly another minute and then realizes she’s still naked. She steps awkwardly into her panties, keeping her left hand on the wall to steady herself. She nearly trips trying to get her jeans on and then gives up, sits on the floor, and removes her sandals.
When she’s finally dressed, the voice says, “Karen, you’ve been a good sport. If it’s any consolation, we would have chosen you.”
Karen shrugs and says, “You still can, you know.”
The voice says, “Is there anything you wish to say to Sam before we start the vacuum pump?”
She looks at me and sighs. “I guess this proves you never would have left your wife for me. If you care, I think you made the wrong decision.”
“I’m sorry, Karen,” I say. “So, so sorry. I wish to God there was something I could do.”
The voice says, “Sam, we’ve got to know. What made you choose Rachel?”
I look at my wife. For the first time since the decision was announced, she looks in my direction. I think she was so convinced I’d choose Karen, the idea that she’s safe hasn’t sunk in yet.
“We’ve had our share of problems,” I say, “but we’ve got history. Maybe she hasn’t been perfect, but I haven’t either. I want a second chance, and I’m hoping she gives me one.”
“Well, you’ll soon have a chance to find out. Karen?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Sit tight awhile. We’re going to take this in a different direction for a minute.”
All three of us look at each other, wondering what fresh hell the voice has in store for us.
The voice says, “Sam, you’ve already made your choice, so there’s no turning back. However, it might interest you to know that Rachel has a secret of her own.”
Rachel’s face drains itself of all color.
The voice continues, “Rachel, would you like to tell Sam what you’ve been up to? Or shall we?”
Somewhere in my brain, a puzzle piece is trying to fall into place. I can’t quite make it fit, but as I watch Rachel standing in her cell, pale-faced and visibly squirming, I know the missing piece is a person:
Donovan Creed.
He’s the one who said he’d save me. I asked if he would save Rachel and he said, “Sam, when it all goes down, if that’s what you want, I’ll save Rachel too.”
Later he’d said, “I’ll help you get her back, if that’s what you want,” which means Creed knew about Rachel. Whatever I’m going to hear about her, Creed already knows. He promised to save me and said he’d save Rachel too—if that’s what I wanted.
Despite the death-level of stress I’ve been subjected to—add to that what I’m about to learn about Rachel—I suddenly see the slightest glimmer of hope. Creed’s promise to get me out of here, with Rachel, if that’s what I want, suddenly feels possible. I glance across the parking lot at the black, tarp-covered cage that holds Creed and wonder if he’s still alive. If so, I wonder if he’s still moving his hands over the Lucite surfaces, searching for a weakness in the structure.
Then, just as quickly, I lose all hope, because I just caught that other little thought that was running around in my brain—the one where I’m about to pull into my driveway and Creed tells me to hurry up because there’s not much time to get to the secret room. During which time, Creed once again tells me he’ll save me, but he says, “If what?”
And I had answered, “If I don’t let them steal your money.”
And, of course, I had let them steal his money. I’d given them the codes, all of them, including Creed’s. But wait—wasn’t there a sub-clause, a caveat that might yet make my life worth saving?
Yes! Donovan Creed had told me to make sure I gave them his code last.
Had I?
The voice says, “Very well, Rachel, I’ll do it for you. I’ll tell Sam and Karen what you’ve been up to. But first, we’ll need a moment to set the stage.”
Again, the sound and lights go out.
When they come back on, the garage door opens and another truck comes in, with another tarp-covered cage. Karen’s and Rachel’s cages are moved to make room for this new cage. The lights go out so the drivers can exit without being seen, but the green tarp on the new cage remains in place. I guess our captors’ flair for drama continues.
The voice says, “Hmm … so many ways to tell the story, where shall I begin?”
Karen is a creature of curiosity. Though her execution has been stayed momentarily, she approaches the area of her cubicle that affords the best view of Rachel’s face. She, too, seems interested in what’s behind the green tarp. Rachel isn’t looking at the new cage. She seems to know what’s inside.
The voice says, “Sam, your wife wasn’t entirely honest wi
th you earlier when begging for her life.”
Rachel pretends to be unconcerned. She retrieves a sandwich from the cooler and starts opening it. She waves her hand in the general direction of the new cage and says, “Fuck it. Doesn’t matter now. Tell them whatever you want.”
Chapter 28
The voice says, “Sam, you may have noticed Rachel has been a bit distant the past six months. I can shed some light on that: she’s been having an affair of her own.”
I study my wife’s face. Could it be true?
She looks at me while taking a bite of her sandwich. A small, wry smile starts tugging at the corner of her mouth, a smile that says two can play this game.
How could she have sounded so sincere moments ago when pleading for her life?
“I probably haven’t been the most attentive wife in the world, but you know I’ve always been faithful to you …”
When had she learned to lie so convincingly?
Karen Vogel flashes me a look of sadness that says, Can you believe this? She says, “I’m sorry, Sam.”
The voice interrupts its story about Rachel long enough to say, “Karen, you are truly one of a kind.”
Rachel says, “Oh, go fuck yourself.”
The voice continues, “Speaking of fucking …”
He proceeds to tell us that a businessman named Kevin Vaughn is in the cage under the green tarp. Kevin hired Rachel’s company to produce a marketing campaign for a new product. Rachel was on the ad committee. They met, fell in love, blah, blah, blah. The voice doesn’t say, “Blah, blah, blah,” but it may as well. My gut is churning. I am dying inside. I’d just chosen Rachel, and by doing so, I’d sentenced Karen to die.
And Karen feels bad for me!
Rachel says, “This is such bullshit. There’s no way Kevin is in that cage. That’s why you’re keeping it covered.”
The voice says, “Sam, be advised that Rachel and Kevin’s affair is not what you’d term casual. We’ve purposely made it impossible to tell time while in the cell, but I can tell you now that it’s nighttime, and your whole drama began two nights ago. You thought it began yesterday morning when you met Karen at the hotel. But think about how Rachel was acting the night before. How would you describe her state of mind, Sam?”
I don’t want to have this or any other conversation with my captor. But I can’t help myself. I remember having these same thoughts yesterday when I spoke to her on the phone. She’ d been pacing the floor from the time I’d gotten home to the time she went to bed. When I walked in the kitchen last night, she’ d been on her cell phone, agitated. I saw her try to make a call over and over, though she never left a message. At one point, she’ d been in her closet with the door closed. When I entered, I saw her sitting on the floor, eyes filled with tears, cell phone in her lap. I’d asked what was going on. She’ d told me to leave her alone.
“Sam?” The voice is relentless.
“She was highly agitated,” I say.
“Would you like to know why?”
“How about you humor me until I beg you to stop?”
The voice says, “That’s the night she paid the hit man to kill her sister, Mary.”
Chapter 29
Rachel, stunned, lets her sandwich fall to the floor. Whatever she’d thought the voice was going to reveal about her, this wasn’t part of it. Rachel’s face is contorted with pain. She rolls on the floor and starts sobbing. She’s on her side, kicking the wall of her cubicle, convulsing and repeating her sister’s name over and over.
I need to speak, need to ask something, but I can’t seem to cough out the word. I try twice to get it out of my throat. Finally, it comes, as if everything will make sense if I can utter this one simple word: “Why?”
The voice answers, “Mary found out about Rachel and Kevin. She was going to tell you. Rachel didn’t want you to find out, so she hired a hit man to kill Mary.”
Rachel is writhing on the floor in anguish. Karen looks at me, pity in her eyes.
The voice says, “You remember seeing Mary at the park yesterday?”
I nod.
“She was waiting there for you, felt safer meeting in a public place. She brought a co-worker with her, dressed as a policeman.”
The word comes easier this time. “Why?”
“Mary was afraid Kevin might follow you to the park and try something. She thought if Kevin saw her with a policeman, she’d be safe.”
“But … how did she know I was coming?” I say. “Wait a minute—” I look at Karen. “The guy dressed like a policeman. He was your friend.”
Karen smiles broadly and takes a theatrical bow. To the voice, she says, “Does this mean I’m done here?”
The voice says, “I suppose it does. Hang on a sec, we’ll drive you out. Sorry about the vacuum pump. We had to make it seem real.”
Karen says, “No problem. I’ve been through worse.”
Rachel and I are staring at each other, our mouths hanging open.
“What the fuck is going on?” I say, finally.
“Your worst nightmare,” the voice answers.
The room goes dark a moment and then light. Then Karen’s truck starts driving her away. As we watch her rolling toward the door, we hear her say, “Take care, Sam. You too, Rachel.” Then she says, “It’s been a wild ride, hasn’t it?”
When the garage door closes behind her, I say, “This whole thing was a setup. And Karen was in on it from the word go.”
The voice says, “Ya think?”
Rachel says, “This is bullshit! You’ve got your codes. Stop playing with us. Take your money and leave us alone!”
The voice says, “We’ve got one more game for you.”
Rachel says, “Fine. Just do it. Whatever it is, get on with it.”
The voice says, “Rachel, I think you’re going to enjoy this game. Sam? Not so much.”
Chapter 30
“Rachel,” the voice says, “Kevin has just regained consciousness.
Would you like to see him?”
Rachel perks up. “You mean he’s really in there?”
“He is.”
“Then yes!” she says. “Please!”
She glances at me, shows me a half frown, and shrugs.
They do that thing with the lights going off a minute and then back on. From my vantage point, I can’t see Kevin the businessman and wife fucker. But Rachel can, and she likes what she sees. Tears of joy are streaming down her cheeks. “Oh God,” she says, “Oh God! Oh God! I thought I’d lost you!”
I’ve heard a lot of ominous statements these last thirty hours, but none that hit me as hard.
The voice says, “Rachel, Sam chose to save your life, so you’re good to go. The only question is which of these men will be going with you?”
“Excuse me?” I say.
“You had your chance to choose,” the voice says, “now it’s Rachel’s turn.”
Rachel and I exchange a look. I put everything I can into it, trying to get two years of courtship and six years of marriage into one look.
I say, “Rachel, you know I love you. I just proved it to you by picking you. You’ve cheated? Okay, fine, so have I. Let’s start fresh. Let’s end this shit and go home.”
Rachel nods back at me and addresses the voice, “I don’t have to go through all the motions like we did last time. For me, it’s a simple decision. I choose Kevin. Do whatever you want to Sam.”
I literally fall to the floor. I hold my head with both hands, squeezing hard to keep my brains from exploding.
“You’re certain?” the voice says.
“Positive,” Rachel says. “Sorry, Sam. We had some good moments. I’ll try to remember them.”
I scramble to my feet, make my way to the wall closest to her, and place my hand on the Lucite. “Rachel!” I shout. I make a show of removing my wedding ring, just as she’d done moments earlier. I kiss it and put it back on. “We’re married,” I say. “We’re soul mates!”
It seems I’ve gotten th
rough to her. Rachel looks long and hard at her wedding ring. She slowly spins it around her finger a couple of times, and I try to imagine what thoughts are playing in her head. I get my answer when she removes her wedding ring, kisses it, walks to her camping toilet, opens the lid, and tosses it in.
“I belong to Kevin now,” she says. “Everything I am, everything I have, is his.”
And that’s when it hits me: all this time, the one piece of the puzzle I have never been able to understand has just fallen into place. The white bra with the “K” and “V” that had me so freaked out, it doesn’t stand for Karen Vogel.
It stands for Kevin Vaughn.
The voice says, “Sam, would you like to have a chance to meet Kevin?”
“Fuck you!” I say. “Fuck you all.”
Our captor must have the green tarp rigged to an electronic device because it falls away on its own. Kevin Vaughn and I stare at each other. He’s about to say something, but Rachel interrupts him, saying, “Don’t feel like you have to speak to him, Kevin. Just take me home now, honey, okay?”
I look in disbelief at the guy in the black Armani suit with the feathered, white-silk pinstripe. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt and a fiery red tie with a matching pocket square. I look at his sissy haircut and sissy shoes and say, “Is that how it’s going to be, Kevin? You’ve been sneaking around fucking my wife for six months, and now you’re going to what—move into my house, set up housekeeping with a woman who killed her own sister? A woman who, without a second thought, sentenced her own husband to die?”
Kevin clears his throat and says, “I think when you say it that way, you’re putting the worst possible face on the situation.”
“Is that how they teach you to talk in advertising school?”
Rachel says, “He’s not in the advertising business, you buffoon. I am. For your information, he owns a fifty-million-dollar company. How he talks is none of your business.”
“What type of product were you working on with him, some new type of condom?”
