“I couldn’t believe that it was the same man I’d seen in Larkin’s house a few hours earlier. But there he was, bigger than life, in the parking lot of the medical building, waiting for me. He said Larkin wanted to see me. When I made an excuse, refusing to go back to the house, the guy pulled a gun and shoved me into the Nissan.”
We were all sitting there, hanging on his every word.
“We struggled. My only thought was to get the gun away from that idiot. So while the man kept trying to push me into the back seat, I stiffened my legs to hold the car door open. If I was going to get out of this, it had to be now. While we wrestled for the weapon, the phone in my front pocket beeped. Hearing the familiar sound reminded me of other times the keypad had been hit unintentionally. It was crazy, but I hoped a connection would be made and the person on the other end would figure out something was wrong. I shouted, I grunted, but no one heard me.”
“Yeah,” Brock said, “we thought those were butt dials.”
“The stranger was bigger, younger, and finally won the battle. He ordered me to get into the driver’s seat, made me fasten my seat belt, then tightened the bindings. The guy climbed into the backseat and held the gun to my head, demanding I drive to the Larkin house.”
“Did you go right back to the house?” Polly asked, anxiously.
“Yes. The old man was waiting outside for us. When he saw the gun in his man’s hand, he knew instantly that their plan hadn’t gone the way he’d intended. Walking over to my car, he banged on the hood, shouting like a maniac at the man he called Charlie. Ranting at him for making such a mess of such a simple plan.”
“Thieves falling out,” E.T. said, even though they weren’t really thieves.
“Shh,” Polly said, because she was still eager to hear Nathan’s story and didn’t want him to be interrupted.
Nathan went on to say that Larkin opened the car door, unleashing his frustration on him while he was still bound to the driver’s seat. Struggling to keep his voice down, Larkin went on about their schedule. If only Nathan would have stuck to their original appointment and come an hour later, everything would have been fine. None of this would have been necessary. It was all Nathan’s fault, he complained to Charlie. And now there was nothing left to do but take drastic measures.
“Larkin ordered Charlie to get out of the car and release me,” Nathan went on. “But the confused kid couldn’t handle the gun and take care of the seat belt at the same time, so he shoved the weapon into his pocket.”
“There it was, just sticking out of the jacket pocket. An easy grab. I started to reach for it. But all of a sudden, Larkin was holding a Taser on me, threatening to use it if he had to. Anger overtook calm, and he started in on Charlie again. I thought the old guy was going to hit the kid. And so did the kid, because he flinched.
“It was dark; there were no streetlights installed in front of the house yet, and it was obvious that Larkin and Charlie had never done anything like this before and were frustrated. All those circumstances came together just long enough to give me a chance to quickly shove my phone deep into the backseat.”
“Good thinking,” Rosie said.
“I thought so. If someone found it, I reasoned, they’d know I was in trouble. Besides, the device would be the first thing Larkin would take away from me anyway. But the instant it left my hand, I regretted what I’d done. The battery needed charging, and now I was left with no way to call for help.”
“You made a split-second decision,” E.T. said.
“I suppose. So when Larkin’s temper finally ran out, he started for the house, shouting to Charlie to bring me. Charlie drew his gun and did as he was told.”
Inside the house, Nathan noticed everything was different about the living room. No more thick carpeting, and the white furniture had been replaced with thrift shop rejects. And while he demanded to know what was going on, Larkin just stood there smiling. Suddenly polite and calm, he reassured Nathan that no one was going to hurt him. They simply needed a day or so to complete a project. No more questions allowed.
“But Charlie didn’t agree,” Nathan went on, “and urged his boss to just shoot me, be done with it. And now it was Charlie’s turn to rant at Larkin. Surprisingly, the old man stood there and took it.
“The two of them began grilling me. What exactly had I seen or heard earlier? Did I recognize Charlie? They knew I was an ex-cop, and that had them worried.”
“So what’d you tell ’em?” Brock asked.
“I explained that I saw muddy foot prints across the floor and that’s all. I didn’t hear a thing. But I kept the details about the carpet and furniture to myself. Larkin didn’t believe me. But at that point, he wasn’t willing to hurt me.
“Charlie was told to escort me to my room. The one on the second floor, in the rear of the house. It had been made ready.
“I took one last try, telling Larkin that I had people who would miss me. And those people would call the police if I didn’t show up for my meetings. If the two of them just let me walk away now, things would go easier for both of them. After all, I hadn’t been hurt. Why not stop while they were ahead and let me get in my car and ride away? But even as I was trying to be convincing, I didn’t believe my own words.”
“And neither did they, I bet,” Polly said.
“And when neither man wanted to make a deal or listen to another word,” Nathan said, “I wasn’t that surprised.
“But their sudden attack did surprise me. It just took a slight nod from Larkin, and Charlie pulled back and knocked me to the floor. Before I knew what was happening, I was being dragged up the stairs.”
Nathan told us that a mattress, covered with worn blankets, was centered on the floor of a small room. The walls hadn’t been painted yet but had a coat of white primer on them. There was no furniture, no lamps. The two windows were covered over with white curtains to keep up the outward appearance of the house.
“Charlie aimed his gun at my chest while Larkin wrapped me in duct tape. Around and around, tighter and tighter. It took two rolls before he was satisfied there was no way I could get loose. Pushing me back off my feet and onto the mattress, Larkin added extra tape, securing me to the bed and floor. It was all so sloppy and yet very effective. I couldn’t move a muscle.
“Throughout the next five days, the men took turns checking on me. I would be jerked up into a sitting position and fed. Twice a day, the tape was cut off from my waist down to allow for a five-minute bathroom break. But my chest and arms were always tightly bound. Each time the breaks were over, I was wrapped up again with fresh tape or heavy rope. The rest of the time—morning, noon, and night—I was forced to lie flat on my back and stare at the ceiling . . . and wonder what was going to happen to me.”
He stopped, and it got very silent in the room.