San Francisco Night Read Free Page B

her food.
    Now it was the third day and they had both become resigned to their captivity. They both spent their time playing video games, watching DVDs, or sleeping. Both had asked if there was a bathroom they could use and both had been told to use the bucket.
    John slid back the bolts to Brett’s room. The boy was sitting on his bed playing a war game on his X-box. The video games had been John’s idea. He figured the video games would take their minds off their predicament and so far it seemed to have worked. Brett looked up as the door opened. He scowled when he saw the Pizza Hut box that John was carrying. “I don’t like pizza,” he said.
    “I’ll get you Burger King later,’ said John, tossing the box onto the bed.
    “I want to go home,” said the boy, his eyes still on the screen.
    “Soon,” said John. “We have to find your mother and father first.”
    ‘Where are they?”
    ‘We don’t know. That’s why you have to stay here.”
    “I’m bored.”
    “It won’t be long,” said John. He gingerly lifted the towel off the bucket. It was empty. “You haven’t been to the toilet.”
    “I don’t want to,” said the boy.
    “Suit yourself,” said John. He pulled the door closed and slid the bolts across. He’d left the second pizza on the floor and he picked it up and walked slowly down the corridor to the second cell.
    The girl was already on her feet by the time he opened the door. “Can I go?” she asked.
    “Not yet.”
    Tears ran down her cheeks. “You said I could go home today.”
    He handed her the pizza box. “I said maybe. We’re still looking for your mum.” Both children had been told the same lie, that something had happened to their mothers and that John would be taking care of them until the police found them. That was the lie that had got Brett and Sharonda into the car. James was upstairs, monitoring the cameras.
     “I need to use the bathroom.”
    “That’s what the bucket is for.”
    “I can’t use a bucket.”
    “You have to.”
    ‘The men who brought us here said they were policemen.”
    The Apostles who had picked up the kids had been wearing uniforms. People respected uniforms. Children and adults.
    “They were.”
    “But this isn’t a police station.”
    “This is my house. The police station isn’t a nice place for children. It’s best you stay here until your mother turns up.”
    “If it’s your house, it must have a bathroom. Why can’t I use the bathroom?”
    “Because you’re safe down here. Now eat your pizza.”
    “I don’t like pizza.”
    “Everyone likes pizza.”
    “I don’t.”
    “Well what do you like to eat?”
    “Mac and cheese.”
    “Okay, I’ll get you mac and cheese.”
    “I want my mom’s mac and cheese.”
    “Then you’ll have to wait.”
    John locked the door and climbed the stairs. He closed the trapdoor that concealed the stairs, and pushed open the door to the hallway. James was lying on a sofa, reading a book.  The CCTV monitors that gave views of the two cells and the walls surrounding the property were on the wall above a desk. James ran a hand through her long blonde hair. “How are they?” she asked.
    “They’re eating. They both want to go home.”
    James laughed and tossed her hair. “Well that’s not going to happen, is it?”
    John shrugged. “So long as they’re quiet, that’s all that matters. I hate it when they cry.”
 
     
     

CHAPTER 5
     
    Nightingale picked up a rental car from Avis at the airport, a blue Ford Escape with less than a thousand miles on the clock, and had bought new clothes at a WalMart.  He booked himself into the La Luna Inn motel and asked for a room away from the main road, Highway 101. Nightingale was dog-tired from traveling, but a shower and change of clothes put him in a fit state to work. He was in a diner drinking coffee and waiting for a burger when his cellphone rang. The number was blocked, but he took the call.
    “Is that Jack?”
    “Who wants to