Warning, the scene is very sadistic and
violent compared to an average rape scene. It would have been more of a turn on
without this. Also it has implied snuff content. In the audiobook version by
Random House Audio this scene is shockingly intense.
Lisa Gardner, Say Goodbye (2008). The end of
chapter 11. Excerpt from an eBook.
The phone rang again shortly after two a.m.
Kimberly wasn’t sleeping well, as if some part of her was expecting this
moment. Beside her, she felt Mac tense at the first shrill note, and knew he’d
been waiting, too.
She sat up and flipped on a lamp. On the
bedside table, she had positioned her cell phone, notepad, pen, and
mini-recorder. Once again the display screen registered the toll-free number
for the Atlanta FBI. This time, Kimberly wasn’t fooled.
She gave Mac a slow nod of acknowledgment,
then snapped on the mini-recorder. She answered her phone in the hands-free
mode, so they could both hear.
“Special Agent Quincy.”
Nothing
at first. No greeting, or crackle of a bad connection. Then, somewhere distant,
as if in the background, that faint whisper again: “Shhhh…”
Kimberly glanced at Mac. She brought the
phone up between them, and with her ear closer, suddenly she could hear.
Moaning. Panting. The slapping sound of
flesh hitting flesh. A muffled cry of distress.
“Do you like that? Is that good for you?
Answer me!”
A small, whimpered plea.
“That’s what I thought.”
Kimberly put her hand over her mouth to
stifle her automatic cry of protest. Beside her, Mac had gone still. He’d heard
it, too, and understood what it meant. They were eavesdropping on a sexual
assault. Kimberly knew, because she had heard such tapes before, part of the
work her father used to bring home before he realized his young daughters had
taken to sneaking into his office and going through his things.
Recorded? Live? She didn’t know, but she
had seen the visuals that went with such sounds and already her stomach roiled…
The whisper again, closer to the phone:
“Shhhh…”
Banging now. Hard, metallic. Handcuffs,
pounding brutally against a metal headboard, as someone struggled to escape.
Then, a low, unmistakable rasp. The sound of a blade, slowly sliding across a
sharpening stone.
All of a sudden, Kimberly understood this
call was going to get much worse.
Frantically, her shaking hand trying to
scrawl the words across the page: TRACE IT!!!
Mac throwing back the covers, leaping out
of bed, grabbing for their landline.
“You know what I want.”
“Mmm, mmm, mmm.”
“A name. Is one name really so hard? You
just have to love her, that’s all. Give me someone you trust, call a friend,
adore. That’s all I require of you. One single name. Then I promise your death
will be quick.”
“This is Special Agent Michael McCormack,
requesting Special Agent Lynn Stoudt. I require immediate assistance-”
A quick, short rip. Duct tape torn from the
mouth.
A wail. A long, thin, horrified scream that
went on and on until Kimberly had her hand stuffed into her mouth and even then
could feel that poor, exhausted cry reverberating down her spine.
The voice, even closer now: “Shhhh…”
“Tell me!”
“Please…”
The wick wick of metal slicing. A
fresh, throaty scream.
“I can skin you alive. Do you want to
watch?”
“Dear God, dear God, dear God…”
“Darling, didn’t your mama ever tell you?
There is no God! Just me. I am your savior and I am your damnation and you had
better make me happy or I will flay the cheeks from your skinny white face.
GIVE ME A NAME!”
“I don’t kno-AAAGGH!”
“ONE NAME!”
“Please no, dear God no, please, please…”
The girl was screaming. Wailing
hysterically, and now the man was yelling, too, demanding a name over and over
again while in between came terrible wet noises and a violent banging.
Kimberly could feel herself start to
disconnect. To disappear inside her skin, to spiral away from this moment,
where a young girl begged for her life and a madman worked his knife.
The voice in her ear: “Shhh…”
Mac across the room: “Lynn, I need to be
able to trace a phone call immediately. On my wife’s cell. Number-”
“How does that feel? How does that fucking
feel? It’s gonna get worse. I’m just going on and on and on, until you tell me
a name…”
“God, God, God.”
“Didn’t you hear me? There is no GOD!”
“AAAAAGH.”
“Name, name, name. Tell me a-”
“Karen. K-K-K-Karen.”
“Karen who? What is her last name?
How do you know her?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”
A fresh sharp scream as he did something
terrible.
“Liar! If you cared about her, you would
know her full name. If she mattered, you could remember her fucking details.”
“Please, please, please…”
“One last chance. Make me happy. Or I swear
to you, next cut will be someplace you really value. I’m counting. One…two…”
“Virginia!” the female gasped. “Her name is
Virginia. Ginny Jones.”
“And why do you love her?!”
“She is my daughter.”
A pause.
“Excellent,” the man said.
And the next sound needed no explanation at
all.
Mac was shaking her. Had she blacked out?
Kimberly didn’t want to think so. She had never fainted before in her life. She
glanced down in bewilderment at the bed. Her cell phone was there, the screen
blank.
Had it all
been a bad dream?
And then she looked up, saw the somber
expression on Mac’s face, the worry bracketing his eyes.
“The caller hung up,” he said quietly.
“It’s over now.”
But she shook her head. “No, Mac. It’s just
begun.”
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