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MARISA BRUSHED HER teeth, sat on the bathroom floor, and leaned against the wall, spent. She hated vomiting. She'd rather have fever and chills for a week than throw up once.
But she'd trade her health, her hope, her everything if only she could get her daughter back.
"Knock, knock." Rae stood outside the open bathroom door and peeked in. "You okay?"
She started to nod but stopped. She wasn't okay. She'd never be okay.
"Stupid question." Rae stepped inside. "What can I do?"
"Nothing."
"Water?"
"Maybe in a few minutes."
"Okay." Rae sat beside her and folded her legs. "All is not lost."
Marisa sighed. "I know. Intellectually, I know. But it feels... I thought they were going to get her."
"Yeah."
Marisa waited for Rae to encourage her, to offer platitudes. She didn't, though. She sat with her and waited. A few minutes passed before Marisa said, "What are they talking about out there?"
"I'm sure they'll fill us in."
They would. At least whatever Marisa insisted on knowing. Which, at this point, might be very little. She couldn't take any more bad news. Unless they had some hope, maybe she didn't want to know.
She thought again about Mexico's fields of bones. Oh, to never know your loved one's fate. What did she want more—hope or closure?
Neither. She wanted Ana. And she wasn't going to get her daughter back by hiding in the bathroom.
She pushed off the floor and stood. "We need to figure out what to do now."
Rae stood beside her. "Agreed. Let's go."
When Marisa stepped into the living room, Brady, Sam, and Nate all looked at her. Nate's concern was palpable from across the room.
"I'm okay. My stomach..."
"What can I get you?" Nate asked.
She sat beside him and patted his knee. "I'm okay. Really. We just need to make a plan."
"I agree." Nate turned to his friends. "The kidnapper said he'd call today. We haven't really talked about what to say. I guess we'd hoped..."
When he didn't finish, Brady said, "You need to quit putting him off. You'll have to tell him you have the money."
"Or I can get it," Marisa said. "Maybe I should say I can get access to it on Monday. That gives us two more days. And it is Saturday."
"Some banks are open. And they all have online banking," Nate said. "What would be your excuse?"
She didn't know. She looked around the room for advice. Brady glanced at Rae, who opened her mouth before snapping it shut. Sam started tapping on her computer as if all the answers could be found on that screen. If only.
It was Nate who finally spoke. "The money is tied up in a mutual fund, and the account has been closed and the money sent, but it won't be in your account until Monday."
"That could work," Sam said. "And it would make sense, I think."
"That I'd bought a mutual fund with stolen money?"
"Not you," Nate said. "You've maintained all along you didn't have the money. You need to stick with that. Tell him the person who has it is giving it to you."
"Okay. But still, stolen money in a mutual fund?"
Rae leaned forward. "In this story, you're just telling him what the person who really stole the money told you. If he questions you, you can tell him that. You're just passing on what you've been told."
"Not only that," Nate added, "but this guy doesn't have the same skills as his brothers. Does he know anything about that stuff? He's the manager of a copy shop."
"True." It seemed like a good plan. She turned to Nate. "Good idea. But what if he asks me who stole it?"
A moment of quiet while the group thought. Then Sam suggested, "Tell him you can't say, that it's a condition of getting the money."
Nate angled to face her. "And be sure that you don't let on that you know about your sister. We don't want him figuring out we're talking to the police."
"Right." She squeezed his arm. "Thank you for reminding me. There's too much to think about."
"You've got it," Nate shifted to look into her eyes. "And I'll be with you."
Thank God for that. She wasn't sure if she'd survive without Nate by her side.
Brady cleared his throat. "Okay, let's talk about our plan. How are we going to draw this guy out?"
She turned her attention to the group. "Are we going to ask Jessica for help?"
"I think that's the best plan," Brady said. "But instead of trying to lure him up here, I think we should just let the cops take him down in White Plains. If he doesn't have Ana with him, the FBI can squeeze him until he gives up her location." He nodded toward Marisa. "She's your daughter. Does that work for you?"
"Yeah. Now that they're involved, there's no point in trying to push them out."
"I agree." Nate turned to her. "Shall I call Jessica?"
"Please. I don't think I could get through the conversation."
"Actually," Brady said, "let me set it up. I'll talk to Garrison's partner, and they can make the call and work with her." When Nate started to protest, Brady pinned his friend with his gaze. "They know what they're doing."
"Yeah." Nate nodded slowly. "Of course."
Marisa knew how Nate felt. It was hard to give up control of the situation. As if they'd ever had it. "Sounds like a plan."