Daddy's Little Girl by William Malmborg

Author:William Malmborg [Malmborg, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-11T22:00:00+00:00

“Ramsey,” Tess said. “Look!”

Ramsey was about to win an Angry Birds level that he had been struggling with all evening, a win that was riding on his launching of a final egg that he knew was positioned perfectly to take out the last pig outpost.

“Look!” Tess said again, nudging him.

Goddammit! he silently snapped, but then saw that the egg still hit the tower as planned.

Relief spun through his system.

“What?” he asked.

“And now they’re gone.”

“Who’s gone?”

“You don’t care.”

“Who’s gone?”

Tess hesitated for effect and then said, “The girl that we picked up after the storm and brought to the police station.”

“What?”

“She was walking around with a young man.”

Ramsey struggled to understand the significance of this. “So what?”

“Why would the police let her wander around in here?”

“I don’t know,” Ramsey said. “Are you sure it was her?”

“Of course I am.”

Ramsey knew she probably was, her mind noting and storing things that would barely leave an impression on others like himself. He also knew she was correct. Given the marks that had been on the girl, and the obvious mistreatment she had suffered at the hands of some unknown person, bringing her to the school and letting her go off on her own didn’t make any sense—unless they had established that the marks were from a game like she said

“Maybe the police are here with her but let her wander in with the young man as cover,” Ramsey said. He didn’t really believe this, but knew he had to say something that would appease her concern.

“Why?”

“Because they think the person that abused her is here, and they want her to point them out.”

“And without them knowing the police are here looking for them,” Tess said with a nod.

“Exactly.” He clicked the Continue button on his phone screen and watched as the next level opened.

“Do you think it worked?” Tess asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm.”

A rickety yet daunting tower with pig lookouts appeared on screen, one that he could tell was going to be a pain in the ass to take down due to a rocky outcrop that stood in the middle of the screen and offered a support base for the center of the structure and a shield for the rear part.

“Maybe we should—”

“Not get involved,” Ramsey said, cutting her off.

“But—”

“No, Tess, it’s a police situation, one that they’re handling.”

“But maybe we should just make sure.”

“No. We could screw it up for them.”

“How?”

“By interfering.”

“But we would just be making sure she really is with the police still.”

“That is not our responsibility.”

“But what if she escaped?”

“Escaped?”

“From the police.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Stockholm syndrome.”

“Stockholm syndrome?”

“Yes, it’s a condition that develops when a captive begins to bond with their captor.”

“I know what Stockholm syndrome is.”

“You didn’t seem so sure.”

“I wasn’t asking—never mind. You think that girl has Stockholm syndrome, and what, fled the safety of the police to head back to whoever it was that had kidnapped her?”

“Remember what the police said? That she had said there were others, but then wouldn’t talk about them. And they think she wanted us to help the others, rather than just her.

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