Nancy Small is asleep and dreaming when she hears a telephone ringing. She sits up, looks around, tries to orient herself. She’s sitting in a recliner in the living room. She sat down to wait for Stephen to return home and ended up dozing off.
Now she checks the clock in the kitchen and sees how late it is. The phone is still ringing. She hurries and grabs it.
“Hello,” she says.
“Nancy,” she hears her husband say, but his voice is distorted, muffled. It’s hard to hear him, but the voice is still recognizable as her husband’s. “This is, this is, umm, this…I…that…I thought this was a joke or something, but it’s no joke. I’m…there’s somebody and I’ve got handcuffs on, and I’m inside some, I guess, a box.”
Nancy’s mind reels as she tries to keep up with what Stephen is saying.
He’s locked in a box?
I’m supposed to come up with a million dollars?
“Slow down,” she says. “What is going on?”
She hears another voice, even more distorted, say something about forty-eight hours of air. Then she hears Stephen’s voice again.
“I love you. I really do, and the kids. That’s all I know. This hurts like hell.”
“Wait, Stephen—”
Another voice comes on the line.
“We have your husband.”
This voice isn’t distorted or muffled. It’s clear and cold, and hearing it sends chills down Nancy Small’s spine.
“Get the money together,” the voice says. “If you don’t give me one million, your husband is dead.”
“I don’t know if I can get that kind of money,” Nancy pleads.
“Your husband is buried in a box, and only I know where it is,” the voice says. “He has forty-eight hours of air. If I don’t get what I want, I’ll leave him there to rot. You’ll never find him.”
“I need some time.”
“I’ll call back,” the voice says. “And don’t you dare go to the cops.”
The line goes dead.
Nancy’s heart is jackhammering in her chest. Tears fill her eyes. She paces the room for a moment, trying to process what is happening.
She considers not calling the police, trying to do this alone. Could she assemble that kind of money? Could she do what the caller asks in exchange for Stephen?
There is no guarantee that Stephen will be allowed to live. She only has the kidnapper’s word, and she can’t trust him.
No, Stephen’s best chance of survival is for her to call in the authorities.
She grabs the phone and dials the operator.
She clears her throat and says in as confident a voice as she can muster, “Please connect me to the FBI.”