CHAPTER 39
Her hand darted to the phone before her brain even processed it. "Yes?"
"Alice."
"Francis." Her voice shook. "Where are you? What's going on?"
"Ze game is drawing to a close, little bunny." His voice shook and contained no personality.
"You're reading lines." It wasn't a question.
Back where Francis was, several miles away surrounded by ice and salty sea water, he was chained.
The Frenchman was chained with rusty handcuffs to the wall. He sat in a small, rusty little grey room. The other Kirklands sat in the room with him, staring anxiously. A robust blonde man with blue eyes and a trembling Italian sat in the corner, huddling closer to each other. Their wedding rings glinted in the dim lighting.
A man, wearing an eagle mask, nudged him with a gun. To the head. Continue.
"You – You're a genius, really." Francis stuttered, glaring down at the chicken scratch the insane man was forcing him to read. "I never expected you to get zis far."
"Really?" Her pissed off voice crackled over the speaker phone so that the whole room could hear her. "You stalked me for years and you never included this tidbit in your calculations?"
"You zink me a fool?"
"You're not stupid, I'll give you that." Her voice continued, "Just not smarter than me."
"Perhaps. But I am angrier zan you, and anger does a lot of good to you. Bad for you I suppose, zough."
She snarled. "You had the audacity to hurt my family… to hurt the people I care about. And I'm sure Feliciano and Ludwig are in there, as well."
The masked man nodded, signaling Francis. "Yes. Zey are here."
"Well, now you're just lowering your IQ by the second." Alice said. "Now you have a pissed off Italian man, with an army of other pissed of people, I might add."
The masked man made another signal. "And you?"
"Oh, I'm a Kirkland. I'm constantly pissed off." A round of giggles nearly made its way throughout the tiny, crowded and grey room. Her voice turned serious. "But you hurt my family, and I swear that once I get my hands on you, you'll wish I had just gutted you with a plastic spoon while you were alive."
"It's a date zen?" For once the killer spoke, his accent rumbling throughout the room.
Back in Alice's office, she bit back a retort about how she only dated Frenchman by the name of Francis Bonnefoy. She stopped herself. Really, the rush of getting back to her usual routine and bossing idiots around was making her want to do some stupid decisions. "What time?"
"Right after I've collected the final guest." The phone line went dead.
Alfred looked startled. "What did he mean by that?" He looked at her face. "Alice, what did he mean?"
"I don't know." She frowned. "Is there anyone we forgot? Anyone who –!" A startled look of realization crossed her face.
"What? What is it?"
…
…
…
"…Where's Matthew?"